Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not condone any of the actions depicted in this work. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or find it difficult to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

Author’s Note: I intend for this to be a long story, and so the beginning is a little slow, but I hope you will read it, just to set the scene. As this is my first story I would greatly appreciate any feedback whatsoever, any suggestions or ideas for the continuation of the story or the characters would also be much appreciated. Enjoy.

Chapter 1

  Olivia smiled as she stared into man’s exotic brown eyes, only half listening to him as he spoke to them. She was lost in her own world, mesmerised by the way he seemed to be looking at her, as if she were the only girl in the world. It seemed like hours he was looking at her, though in fact it was only a few moments as he kept the whole group engaged, making sure he gave each one of them plenty of eye contact. Olivia couldn’t really remember why they were here, or how they had started talking to him, but to her it didn’t seem to matter. Her classmates, the trip, her studies and especially the time had all fallen from her mind as she became ever more engrossed by the man, both his stories and, as she looked directly at him, his astonishingly handsome face. She couldn’t help but play with her hair as she stared at his light brown features, his chiselled jaw, his big brown eyes, and as her eyes moved down, onto his bulging biceps, and onto the t-shirt he wore which was stretch to its limits. She bit her lip slightly as she imagined what would be underneath, and as the thoughts of spending the night with him ran through her head. She was not alone either. In fact, all three of the girls sat there entranced by the mysterious man.

  They were quite a sight themselves. The three of them were on a school trip, taking in the sights and culture of Germany for a couple of weeks, and the coach had arrived for a few days in Munich. All three of the girls were 18, and had been given some free time to explore the city before the coach moved on to Berlin. Olivia was sat directly in front of the man. She was a relatively small girl, just a shade over 5 foot, but her lack of height did not make her any less attractive. She had a full head of blonde hair, which hung just below her shoulders, and which contrasted perfectly with her large blue eyes. She was beautiful; a face that could go from innocent to sexy in the blink of an eye, a mouth that always looked like it would break into a broad smile. It was her infectious personality coupled with her cheeky sense of humour which contributed to her popularity amongst her peers, both male and female. Her good looks and body also contributed to her appeal with the opposite sex. She kept in shape by splaying casual sport, and so her body was fit and firm without being muscular. Her breasts were a full C cup, although on her small frame they looked much bigger, and coupled with her petite arse she was always getting attention off men, particularly when she wore shorts, as she was this evening, which showed off her shapely legs. She knew she was attractive, and often used it to her advantage to get what she wanted off boys, earning her the reputation as a bit of a tease. However, she did enjoy sex, although she would keep her private life discreet and very few people knew what she got up to. As she sat in front of the man, her loose fitting top hanging down and giving him a tantalising glimpse of her substantial cleavage whenever she leaned forward, she wondered if tonight by the night for a holiday romance.

  To her left was Lucy, who at 5’10 was the tallest of three girls. She was different to Olivia in almost every conceivable way, from her height to her looks to her personality. Her long black hair was worn in a ponytail, showing off her high cheekbones, her piercing green eyes and her inviting blowjob lips. Whereas Olivia had the face of a cheeky, though gorgeous, girl next door, Lucy’s model good looks were much harsher, and gave her an air of superiority that she liked to play up to. Though she too was popular, she didn’t have nearly the same universal appeal as her friend, though interest from men was much more forthright. She was well known for fucking a lot of people, although they were usually older men who had little in common with the teenagers who knew her, but that didn’t stop them drooling over her. Her height was accentuated by her long legs, which in the heels she wore this evening looked like they went on forever, and though she had rather small breasts she could still make enough cleavage to give herself the whole package. As an accomplished cross-country runner she was very physically fit, and her round arse just highlighted her sex appeal. Indeed, she had already shagged two different men on the trip, and so the attentions of this stranger were more than welcome.

  The final girl was Holly, who with her angelic innocent face and her shortish brown hair, could easily have passed for a girl three or four years younger. However, one glance at her chest showed anyone looking that she was a woman. Even on her 5’7 frame, her Fs looked huge, perfectly symmetrical and without a hint of sag, they were every teenage boys dream. However, Holly did anything but show them off. Wearing sweatshirts and loose fitting clothing she hoped to hide her considerable assets, but this didn’t help avoid the leer of everyone, particularly the younger boys at school who would often spend their break and lunchtimes leering through the windows of the sixth form common room to try and get a glimpse of her much coveted breasts. Given her large bust she knew she had to work hard to keep her figure, and playing in the same hockey team as Olivia as well as spending time in the gym gave Holly a beautiful hourglass figure, making her desire to cover up all the more infuriating. The loose fitting dress she wore out that day was one of her most revealing, showing off much of her legs, although it still kept her chest well covered. Despite her excellent body, Holly’s embarrassment at the size of her breasts plus her natural shyness compared to the other two girls meant that she didn’t have much luck with men. Though she did not consider herself a prude, and was perfectly happy to talk about sex, even with boys, her belief that boys only wanted one thing from her meant she was still a virgin. However, tonight, when there was nobody she knew other than her closest friends, and with this gorgeous man in front of her, her mind began to contemplate changing that.

  Olivia sipped her drink as she listened intently to the man talk to them in a thick European accent, all the while thinking about the body she imagined he had under his thin t-shirt. This wasn’t the first bar the girls had been in that night, but they had decided it looked nice and sophisticated, and in a city they did not know they thought it wise to stay on the main street. Lucy had immediately started flirting with the barman, a dark handsome chap who looked very flattered by Lucy’s attention. Olivia had stood with Holly waiting for their drinks, looking around to see if they could spot anyone interesting, or handsome. When she had seen him at the bar she had not been able to take her eyes off him, and the fact he had looked back at her had made her blush almost uncontrollably. When he had come over and introduced himself to them she could barely contain herself, although her natural charisma had shone through, and when he had offered to buy them a drink and invited them over to a table she had accepted gladly. Unsurprisingly, it was Olivia who was the most talkative of the girls, ascertaining his name (Mehmet), his nationality (Turkish), his age (25) and how long he had lived in Munich (3 years). She knew they ought to be careful how much they told him, given that he was a stranger, but such was his relaxed attitude, not to mention his rugged good looks, had put her instantly at ease, and she had told him more than she thought wise, but nothing that would have put her in any danger. Following that first drink, not the girls’ first of the night, came a second, and after about half an hour of conversation, Olivia was starting to feel it, and was even more enthusiastic than usual about the night in store.

“Hey,” she said, almost interrupting her own sentence, “I just need to go to the toilet, if that’s ok?”

“Yes yes,” Mehmet replied, “I will get more drinks?”

“No,” Lucy replied almost sternly, “we’ll get them when we get back.”

“Ah, smart girl. I am stranger after all.”

“Ok,” Olivia, who had been about to accept the offer of a drink, and was grateful to her friend for being more sensible, “see you soon!”

The girls left to go through to the toilets, and Mehmet sat back with his beer and took a long drink. He then pulled out his phone and began to type.

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  In the toilets, the girls were taking stock of what had already been a good evening for them.

“I’m going to shag him,” Lucy stated flatly, not even breaking a smile as she adjusted her make up in the mirror.

“You’ll have to fight us off,” Olivia laughed, as she came out of one of the cubicles.

“No problem,” Lucy, turning to face her friend, “or…?”

“You mean…” Olivia hesitated, making sure they were on the same page, “both of us?”

“Both,” Lucy smiled, “or all three? Holly?”

“Well,” came the voice from within the cubicle, “when in Rome.”

“Haha, go on Hols!”

“We could see if he has a friend,” came Lucy’s suggestion, “make sure none of us get bored.”

“How would we get them into the hotel?” asked Olivia, still not entertaining the idea entirely seriously, “I’m not sneaking out.”

“Such a swot,” Lucy said with faux disdain.

“Slut.” Holly replied, emerging out of the cubicle.

“We’ll just go back out and see what happens girls. Could be a night to remember!”

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  Mehmet sat back and waited for the girls to come back. He could scarcely believe his luck. He was often in this bar looking for girls, and he usually didn’t have much trouble finding them, or indeed of fucking them. His eastern charm coupled with his good looks and his sculpted body he could essentially have his pick of women in the bars of Munich. But as he ran his hand through his dark tousled hair he thought about what he had found that night. Three drop dead gorgeous English girls who all seemed up for a good time, not in Munich long, and all of them, he could tell, found him very attractive. He knew they were all 18, younger than the girls he usually found, but that was far from a negative. He had enjoyed speaking to them, particularly the one with the blonde hair, and was even more looking forward to fucking them, particularly given how they were all so different, from the quirky little blonde, to the leggy sultry one, and finally the shy one with, from what he could make out from under that dress, very big tits. Having sent a quick text, he signalled over to the barman, who gave him a cheeky wink back, and then stood as he saw his targets move back from the bathroom.

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After another 45 minutes of drinking Olivia felt like she was very drunk, and though this seemed strange seen as she’d only had two drinks, she was still enjoying herself. She could tell Lucy felt it too, as her usual sexy and sultry demeanour had been replaced by a much happier, giddier girl, who was flirting outrageously with the barman who had come over to join them. Holly seemed to have come out of her shell and was talking with Mehmet. Indeed, both her friends seemed to be having a good time, and so Olivia decided to forget about her sense of unease, finished her drink, and then joined back in the conversation.

  “Shit,” Holly exclaimed, “we have to….to…be back.”

“Back where?” Olivia replied, feeling equally disorientated.

“Hotel.”

“Nah we can stay a bit,” Lucy said as she broke off from the barman, who was busy touching her hair and whispering in her ear.

“No Lucy!” Olivia shouted, much louder than she had thought, with people on adjacent tables turning round to look, “otherwise Miss…..Miss…Wallig will…”

“Wallace!” Holly seemed proud to have corrected her friend.

“Hey no girls,” Mehmet said, who seemed coherent apart from his broken English, “we get you into taxi.”

“No no, we want to stay,” Lucy pleaded, though her eyes suggested she was miles away.

“No, we get you into hotel,” Mehmet stated authoritatively, “maybe after we meet you, yes?”

“Ok baby,” Lucy winked, then suddenly stopped as if realising how drunk she was.

  Mehmet and the barman helped the girls into a car that was waiting outside. If the girls had not been so out of it they would have realised that this was not a taxi. The car was like a limo, with blacked out windows, and had they been lucid the girls would certainly not have set foot inside it, especially not with two strange men. But Olivia and her friends could barely support themselves as they were pushed through the door and into the car. Olivia couldn’t sit up straight, her face resting against the leather seats and a strand of saliva instantly running down her cheek. By this time none of the girls could even move, and neither Lucy nor Olivia noticed when Holly was literally thrown on top of them. Closing the door on the girls in the backseat, the two men walked round into the front, started the car, and drove off into the night.

 

                                                                

  Olivia’s head was pounding. She could barely remember anything from last night. The last thought she had was sitting in the bar with her friends…and that strange man. Her mouth was so dry, and as she tried to move saliva around it she found what appeared to be a large piece of plastic. Attempting to spit it out, she found that she couldn’t, and suddenly she began to panic. She opened her eyes, expecting to have to shield them from the light, but found that it was pitch black. She tried to move her arms, but all she could hear was a clinking sound directly above her. In increasing panic she attempted to move her legs, finding they were tied together, and that they were not indeed touching anything. She couldn’t move her hands, and with every movement she made with her body she could hear the same clinking sound above her head. Now Olivia was really panicking. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled whine. Again she screamed, again nothing happened other than her muffled sound, and that clinking sound again. Olivia stopped to think, her head still pounding from the night before, as she contemplated her situation. She could not remember anything after the bar, anything after that man. Maybe she was at his house, maybe she was safe, just so hung-over she could barely move. Maybe this was a dream that she would shortly wake from.

  It was then that she heard another muffled whimper to her right. This too was accompanied by a clinking. Olivia listened intently, and once again she heard the rattle of metal on metal and the sound of a stifled scream. Olivia responded in kind, as if hoping to communicate with whoever was making the sound. Then in a moment of silence, as Olivia’s mouth and throat began to burn, she heard yet another moan, this time to her left, and suddenly a terrible thought popped into her head. She had heard two distinct sounds, one on either side of her, and given her last memories of the night before, and the people she was with, she had a truly awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  With that, there was a creak and the sound of footsteps echoing down. There was for a split second a small chink of light, allowing Olivia just a momentary glimpse of her surroundings, not enough to take anything in at all, but just enough to let her know that this was really happening. The footsteps grew louder and louder, until it became clear there was more than one pair of feet, different types of shoes, until eventually the footsteps grew so loud against the floor that Olivia knew that somebody was standing in front of her. Olivia held her breath, as if by remaining perfectly still she could avoid whatever terror it was in front of her. For a few tense moments there was silence.

  “Lights!”

The sudden sound cut through Olivia just as much as the blinding light that appeared just a moment later. Having been in pitch blackness, this light despite being only moderately bright, enough to light up an average sized room, she felt like she had been blinded, and her eyes took a moment to get used to it. When she was finally accustomed to it, she opened her eyes. Her heart sank.

  Taking in the contents of the room, Olivia was filled with a blind panic. The light didn’t illuminate much of the room, which looked huge, and there were dark shadows in the corners. What she could see terrified her. To her right, just in front and facing slightly inwards was Holly. Though dressed in the same loose summer dress and sandals that she had worn the night before, this was not the same girl. All the joy that she usually had in her wide brown eyes that Olivia loved so much about her best friend was gone. Holly was hanging by her wrists from a chain suspended from a large hook in the ceiling. Her wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick white rope, her feet hovering just a few inches above the floor. Tears streamed from her big round eyes down her cheeks, and dripped onto her dress just above her breasts. In her mouth was a large red ball gag, stretching her jaw obscenely wide. Olivia recognised it as the same apparatus in her mouth, and she knew the discomfort her friend was going through. Turning her head, Olivia saw Lucy to her left, her other friend in the same predicament, the same plunging dress and heels she wore the previous night, her sultry eyes equally devoid of the raw sexuality she usually exuded. Slowly Olivia scanned the rest of the room, what she could see, and tears welled up in her eyes. All sorts of apparatus, equipment, toys and devices seemed to fill the room. What looked like a modified wooden rocking horse, a device she recognised from her history lessons as a rack, a heavy wooden table with metal rings and stirrups upon which a car battery sat, and on part of a rack that was only partly visible in the dim light, a collection of whips. Olivia didn’t even begin to guess what other horrors awaited her in the corners of the room, buts she had never been so scared. She hung her head, staring directly at the floor in front of her, when she saw the tip of a pair of shoes.

In front of Olivia was a woman. She could tell as much as soon as she saw the size feet in the black leather boots that rose steadily up her legs, criss-crossed with laces. Just above the top of the boots was a pair of fishnet stockings, helped up by a pair of leather suspenders. There was nothing covering the woman’s genitals, and her pussy was immediately visible, a thin triangle of fine blonde hair pointing into it. The woman also had her navel on display, before a tight leather corset, done up from the back, which pushed her breasts together to form a very meagre cleavage. Her neck was long, rising out of her prominent colour bone. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the woman’s face. She had the harshest most unforgiving features Olivia had ever seen, cheekbones so prominent that it looked like you cut yourself on them. Her nose was small and thin, and her mouth was pursed, almost into a snarl, although her face gave off no emotion. But it was her eyes which caught Olivia’s attention. They were relatively narrow, but a bright, brilliant green, and emotionless. She looked as if she were dead, so cold and unforgiving were her eyes, and even as they flitted from one hanging girl to the next, Olivia could still feel her piercing hair. The woman was obviously a lot older than the girls, looked late 30s, but she was still strikingly attractive without being beautiful, and her wrinkles were reduced by her hair, which was pulled back tightly into a bun at the back of her head. In her hand she carried a long thin black riding crop. On either side of her were two men, one Olivia recognised as Mehmet, the other was the bartender from the bar they were in the night before. Both were heavy set and tall, wearing black shirts and black trousers, with shiny black shoes, and had the same dull expressionless face. Despite the two men either side of her, easily bigger than her, the woman’s green eyes set against her pale skin and the black she was wearing sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. The woman stood there for what seemed like an eternity, before she spoke.

“Hello girls. My name is Greta Schweinberg. Welcome to my home.”

She spoke deliberately, as if savouring every word. Her accent was obviously European, and by the name Olivia guessed German, but she spoke English with an almost American twang, though that was far from Olivia’s thoughts. She took long pauses between each sentence, making sure to look every girl in the eye several times.

  “You have met my friends Mehmet and Hasan. They saw you in the bar in Munich. They liked you. They thought I would like you. They spiked your drinks and brought you here. I must say they were right. I do like you. I am sure I will enjoy you.”

  This last sentence elicited a whimper from all three girls. During the whole ordeal they had all clung to a faint hope that this was all a dream or at the very least some horrible practical joke. But hearing this woman speak, every word dripping from her mouth like venom, made it all too real.

  “You belong to me now. I will do whatever I want with you. I will hurt you. I will abuse you. I will let Mehmet and Hasan fuck you until you cannot take anymore. Then they will fuck you again. You will also learn to do whatever I want you to. If I tell you to suck their dicks, you will do it. If I tell you to lick my cunt, you will do it. If I tell you to torture your friend, you will do it. Failure to comply will be met with more serious consequences than you can possibly imagine.”

  All three girls were now in floods of tears. The woman did not react at all as her property sobbed around her. Her vulgar choice of words brought home to them just how serious their predicament was, and the monster that stood in front of them. Her English was practiced, impeccable, and spoken so chillingly that even Mehmet and Hasan were a little taken aback. She continued to talk at them, conveying no emotion whatsoever, while her sidekicks stood there unmoving.

  “It will take time to learn your place. You are English. You are arrogant. You are soft. You do not know how to behave. That will not be tolerated here. You will learn self control. You will learn discipline. You will learn how to please both men and women. Learning will be hard. It will hurt. You will go through pain you cannot imagine. Even if you behave I may still hurt you. I enjoy it. Mehmet and Hasan will enjoy it. They are Turkish. They hate Western women. You will call me mistress and them your masters. Welcome to Schweinberg Castle.”

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    There was a moment of silence as Greta allowed the girls to take in what had been said to them. Olivia’s head was swimming, and not just from the night before. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. This woman had kidnapped them, for no reason other than to hurt them. She had read about this in newspapers, in horror films, but never did she imagine it might happen to her, on a school trip with her best friends. However, she wasn’t going to get too much time to think about it.

  “We’ll start with the blonde.”

  Mehmet and Hasan moved forward. Hasan grabbed Holly and pushed her backwards, until she was behind Olivia, the hook obviously on some kind of rail toward the back of the room. Olivia noticed that Hasan had strategically placed his hands on Holly’s chest. Mehmet did likewise with Lucy, until Olivia was hanging there by herself, with the woman staring at her menacingly. The two Turks came back to flank either side of her. She nodded. Mehmet delved into his pocket and pulled out a flick knife and walked toward Olivia, whose eyes had opened wide, her screams stifled by the ball gag in her mouth. Hasan walked round behind her as Mehmet approached, and suddenly she felt two hands on her hips. He pushed her forward, on a similar rail, toward the woman then turned her round, so she could see her two friends looking back at her. Mehmet brought the knife up to her face and brushed it against a cheek, causing Olivia to flinch away from the cold steel, and causing a smile on Mehmet’s face. He brought the knife slowly down her, following the contours of her face, down her neck, and down onto her chest. He paused for a moment, the brought the knife down quickly. The front of Olivia’s loose vest peeled in two, revealing a plain white bra and the cleavage she had been cheekily flaunting the night before. Mehmet winked at her, and then pulled down on the fabric that had been her vest, tearing the shoulders away easily and letting it fall into a pile on the floor. Mehmet brought the knife over the tops of her breasts, tracing the outline of her bra with the tip of the knife, and then brought the flat of the knife down lightly on the top of her breasts. He then traced down her cleavage and put the knife between the cups in her bra, hooking it underneath the fabric. He then pulled the knife towards him. Olivia’s bra parted like the Red Sea, the cups falling to either side, her breasts bouncing into view. They hung perfectly, looking substantial on her small frame, topped by small pale nipples that were place perfectly on each globe, erect from fear. Both Mehmet and Hasan’s mouths dropped open a fraction as they saw her assets freed for the first time, though Mehmet couldn’t help but steal a glance at Holly. Having cut off the shoulder straps to leave her bra in the same crumpled pile as her top, he moved his free hand and up underneath her left breast, holding it, weighing it in his hand. Giving it a light squeeze he bounced it up and down slightly, as if getting used to how it felt. His right hand brought the knife tip to her other nipple, toying with it, pressing the blade against it without cutting the skin.

  “Play with them later Mehmet,” the woman snapped, “let me see the rest of her.”

  The Turk reluctantly moved his hands away from her tits, though continued to trace the tip of the knife down her toned stomach, enjoying the way each muscle flinched away from the metal. Meanwhile, Hasan grabbed at the denim shorts Olivia was wearing and pulled one side out there was space between her hip and the fabric. Mehmet traced the knife into the gap and began to slice through the garment surprisingly easily, making short work of even the thick denim. Quick as a flash Hasan and Mehmet had cut through the other side, leaving only the crotch of the shorts sandwiched between Olivia’s bound leg that kept it on her body. Mehmet slipped his thumb underneath the hem of the shorts, just grazing the top of Olivia’s pussy through her underwear, then tugged hard forward. The coarse fabric ripped across the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and Olivia squealed as her legs exploded in pain. Mehmet and Hasan both smiled as they heard her muffled whimper, and let the ruined garment drop to the floor with the rest of her clothes. Only her white underwear now gave her any semblance of privacy, her tits already bared for all to see.  Once again she felt the cold knife against her skin, and again, as Mehmet made short work of her cotton underwear, and pulled it through her legs again, eliciting another whimper as the fabric moved over her sore inner things. Now Olivia was naked, save for the shoes she had worn the previous night. All her charms were on display, her breasts, her legs, her stomach, her arse and just the top of pussy, in front of her friends, these two strange brutes and that woman.

“Move!” Greta’s snap accompanied by the crack of the riding crop against her leather boots. Mehmet and Hasan moved behind her quick as a flash, their eyes never leaving the limp nude body of the girl in front of them.

  “Let’s see what I’m working with.”

Greta moved closer toward Olivia, who kept her head down the entire time. She brought the riding crop to Olivia’s face, and tapped her chin as if to demand that the girl look at her. Olivia was too scared to defy her, and looked straight up at the woman’s eyes. Greta was very impressed with what she saw. The girl was naturally beautiful, not using too much make up like so many women did these days. As she moved the riding crop down, past her breasts and onto her stomach, she could tell that the girl took care of her body. Greta moved round to inspect the rear of her new toy, her boots echoing on the hard stone floor, her crop trailing across Olivia’s soft skin. The view from behind was just as good from behind. Though she was small, Olivia’s legs were slender and still desirable, and topped by a beautiful peachy round arse. Greta smiled as she tapped each cheek with her crop. Then she brought it down hard on Olivia’s right arse cheek. Despite the gag the scream was just about audible, and brought a smile to all three of the kidnapper’s faces, and a whimper from the two girls.

“Just a little taster,” Greta smirked.

Next she moved a little closer to the girl, and brought her hand out to touch her, just where a red mark was developing. She brought her hand slowly across the girl’s cheeks, her long sharp nails just grazing the surface of her skin. Running her index finger down the cleft of Olivia’s buttocks, she pushed her hand through her legs until she could feel the girl’s pussy. She ran her finger up and down the lips a few times, savouring the way her muscles tightened as she went close to her opening. Greta moved round the front, tracing her long nails across the girl as she did so. She traced up towards the girls breasts, just using the tips of the fingers on her right hand. Olivia flinched again as Greta’s fingers played with her nipple, rolling the sensitive little bud between her thumb and forefinger.  Tossing her riding crop to the side, Greta ran the fingers of her left hand up Olivia’s legs toward her pussy. Whilst her right hand was toying with the nipple, Greta’s left hand began to rub up and down Olivia’s opening, making sure to use her sharp nails on the sensitive flesh. As she slipped a finger into Olivia’s vagina, she began to flick her nipple with her right hand, catching the flesh with the tips of her finger. Olivia moaned with a mixture of shame and pain, this woman doing whatever she wanted with her. The invasion into her pussy was almost unbearable for her, and the scratching on the sensitive walls of her vagina made it even worse. Greta pulled out, and ran her fingers up till she found Olivia’s clit. She toyed with it for a while, just as she toyed with her nipple, before pulling away abruptly.

  “Very nice,” Greta snapped, “very nice indeed. Mehmet tells me you like to talk, Olivia. You will not talk yet. You will see what you are good for. All you are good for. From now on all you do is please us. I am sure you will be very good at it. Now boys, who’s fucking this one?”

  Mehmet looked at Hasan. They both understood that whoever finds the girls should get to go first. Hasan moved over to Olivia and bent down by her ankles, while Mehmet began to unbutton his shirt. She saw the man bent down by her ankles with a knife, knew that she was about to get fucked and tried desperately to move away, the chain above her clinking as she tried desperately to get away, but there was no escaping his grasp. He held her legs firmly in one hand, and then sliced through the rope with the knife. With her legs free Olivia tried to kick her assailant, but he was too strong, and all her exertions had done was cover her body in a thin film of sweat, making her body glisten in the dim light. Meanwhile Mehmet had stripped down to his underwear, and Olivia looked up just in time to see him reveal his manhood. Her eyes went wide when she saw the size of it, springing up as he pulled down the waistband it was at least 9” long, and almost as thick as her wrist. She had had sex before, and so was used to the feel of a cock inside her, but she knew she had never had anything like this. As he approached Hasan went round the back of her and pressed his body against hers, moving his hands down between her legs then yanking them outwards with surprising force, splaying Olivia’s legs wide and displaying her pussy to everyone in the room. She blushed with shame as she saw Mehmet looking at her with smirk on his face, as she saw her friends hanging their heads in shame for their friend, and all the while the penetrating stare of the woman looking straight through her. Mehmet came closer until the tip of his circumcised cock was just centimetres away from the entrance to her pussy. She closed her, trying to shut out what was about to happen. Mehmet slapped her.

  “No pretty baby,” he smiled as he said it, “you look at me.”

  He held his dick in his hand, precum just dripping from the end of it. Olivia looked up at him. She thought back to the night before, when she had thought excitedly about what was underneath his shirt. She had been right, he had an almost perfect body, his abs perfectly defined, his chest and shoulders strong, his arms the stuff of girl’s dreams. But right now all that muscle was terrifying, and the glint in his eyes as he looked at into hers caused to well up in her eye.

  “Don’t cry,” he said, moving one hand up to her left breast and slowly squeezing it, “we are going to have the fun.”

  With his right hand he began to massage her pussy, as if trying to get her ready for him, but he didn’t try too hard. In actual fact he wanted her to be dry for this one. Although it might be a bit painful for him, it would be worse for her. This first fuck was to show her what she was in for, what her life would be like now. The more it hurt the better.

  “MMMMPHHH,” Olivia tried to plead with him, with her eyes and muffled whine, but he was not interested.

  “OK,” came the reply, “just me.”

With that he moved his cock right up to the entrance to her pussy, so that the very tip was just inside. Hasan had been holding her legs open the whole time, and though he loosened his grip, he stayed firmly behind her, so as to give him something to fuck her against, and get deeper into her.

  “Do it.”

  With that order Mehmet rammed home. Olivia was shocked by the brutality with which he thrust into her. There was no easing in, no foreplay.  In one thrust his shaft was entirely buried in her vagina. She had felt the full force of it as well. Hasan was so strong he hadn’t budged an inch on impact, and so all of the power in the man’s thrust had gone straight into Olivia’s dry pussy. He held it there for a moment, savouring the feel of her young tight cunt, and the pulled back, rasping over her walls again. Once he had withdrawn until just the tip of his penis was inside, he slammed forward again. Olivia had closed her eyes, and so he put his mouth down to her tit and bit hard on her nipple.

“Look at me bitch.”

  Olivia stared into her rapist’s eyes as he pulled out and thrust in again. Her pussy felt like it was on fire. She had never felt so full. It was the biggest she had ever had, and the walls of her vagina were stretched to their limits, and without anything to lubricate her it felt like sandpaper was being rubbed inside her. Although she kept her eyes on him, the tears in her eyes prevented from seeing his face as he plunged into her again and again. She could scarcely believe this was the same charming man as last night, now treating like nothing more than a piece of meat.

“Good Mehmet,” came the emotionless voice, “make it hurt.”

Mehmet began to pick of the pace of his thrusts, each one pounding into her like a sledgehammer. The lack of lube meant that each thrust was painful for him too, but he took solace from the fact that his pain was nothing compared to the girl underneath him. This was not the first time he had done this, and his ability to do it was one of the reasons he was in this position now. He savoured the tears rolling down Olivia’s cheeks as he pounded in and out of the poor girl. He looked down at her breasts as they bounced wildly up and down with each thrust. With One free hand he reached and grabbed one of her tits, kneading it roughly, sinking his fingers into her flesh as he pounded in and out of her. The he brought the other hand up and pinched her nipple tightly, pulling it away from her chest.

  Olivia was in so much pain. The piston pounding away inside her pussy felt like it would set her on fire, and if it didn’t do that it would burrow right through her. Her back was aching from being slammed against Hasan, who had remained unmoved throughout the rape. Now Mehmet had turned his attention toward her breasts, and while he painfully mauled the right one, he was tugging so hard on her left that she thought it might rip off. Soon she felt wetness inside her, and for a moment she thought her body might have betrayed her. But she soon realised that was the case, and the fact that she was now bleeding left her panicking even more than before, and she could tell from the look of pride on Mehmet’s face that he knew what had happened as well.

  “She is bleeding,” Mehmet crowed, with what was unmistakably pride.

“Virgin?”

“No no, she has had cock before.”

“Good boy,” Greta barely acknowledged this new information, “don’t stop.”

Knowing how much pain he was causing her only spurred Mehmet on. However, he wanted to do more than hurt her, he wanted to humiliate her. With the hand that had been tugging on her nipple moved up to her head, and stroked her cheek delicately, as if her were making love to her for real. He then moved his hand behind her head and pushed it toward him, until their faces were mere centimetres apart. He then leaned in and kissed her, first on her mouth, with the ball gag still in and protruding, and then on the top of the head, as if they were lovers. The whole time his cock kept pounding into her, showing no mercy. He placed his forehead against hers, held it for a second, and then with his fingers wrapped in her soft blonde hair, pulled back hard.

  The pain from having her hair pulled and her head snapped back was almost a relief for Olivia, as for a split second she didn’t have to look into his eyes. She could scarcely believe what was happening to her, and were it not for the burning pain in her pussy and her tits then maybe she would have tried to convince herself it was a dream. But it was real. She was shocked at how somebody could get so much pleasure from her pain, how her rapist had tried to act so tender, as if to tease her and bring home how far the reality was from her fantasy of the night before. But her relief was short lived as her head was jerked back in front of him.

  Mehmet knew he was getting close, and he jerked her head so he could look into her eyes as he came. He thrust deep into her cunt one more time, pushing as far in as he possibly could, and then felt his whole body twitch as wave after wave of cum went shooting into her womb. He held her head close to his while the last strands of semen shot out of his cock and into her abused cunt. He winked at her then pulled out his softening dick, a pink trail of blood and cum connecting him to her. He milked the last remnants of jizz out onto the outside of her pussy, savouring the juice that was pouring out of her hole and onto the pile of clothes beneath her. Mehmet picked up the shred of cloth that had once been Olivia’s bra, and wiped the mess off his now limp cock, before tapping her on the cheek, pinching her nipple and bouncing her breast up and down a little, before walking off back behind Greta. Hasan promptly dropped Olivia like a sack of potatoes, her shoulders almost wrenching out of sockets as all her wait was once again taken on her arms. The second man also took his place behind the German.

  “Well done Mehmet,” she spoke with the same emotionless voice she had had the whole time, as she turned toward Olivia, “do you think she enjoyed that?”

  “No,” Mehmet replied with a smile, “but I did.”

  “I’m sure you did,” Now she spoke directly to the girl, “and I’m glad you didn’t. If you think that was bad, you have a lot to learn. Look at me when I speak to you!”

  This last sentence was accompanied by an almighty slap that seemed to set Olivia’s face on fire. She had been in something of a trance since her rape, not even thinking about what had just happened to her, but the stinging power of the blow brought her round immediately, and she tried desperately to look at the woman, despite the stars dancing in front of her.

  “I hope you now realise you are no longer who you thought you were. No longer Olivia. No longer a pretty, cheeky little English who does what she wants. No longer do you even have control over your own body. You may do nothing without my permission. You may not speak. You may not piss. You may not shit. You may not cum. Not without my permission. The only reason you are breathing is because I allow it. Is that understood?”

  Olivia was too shocked to even nod her head. Still reeling from the blow to her face, the speech she had just heard would have started her crying, if she had any tears left to give. But she knew that she had to answer. She had to do as the woman said, else the consequences would be more severe even than this. Slowly, meekly, she nodded.

  “Good girl,” Greta tapped her on the cheek lightly, the same cheek she had struck with such force, “soon we’ll take that out of your mouth, and then you can address me properly. But not yet.”

  She turned and strode back towards the two men. The purpose with which you walked was chilling, especially given the fact her voice hadn’t changed at all. Greta had of course enjoyed watching Mehmet rape Olivia. She knew what had been going through the girl’s head, besides the pain of the fucking the shock that the kind gentle man she had met had raped her so brutally. That the man she had thought maybe she would have sex with voluntarily, who she would quite readily given herself to, had taken such pleasure in the pain he had caused her. It was the first in many, many enjoyable steps on the road to breaking these girls. But Greta wouldn’t rush, she would take her time, savouring every moment of pain she and the men inflicted on their new toys. She whispered something into Hasan’s ear, and he nodded.

  “Then hang her back up, we’ve got much more to do.”

  Hasan and Mehmet moved back toward Olivia, who tried to back away in fear. But this time the men seemed more relaxed, less intimidating. They completely ignored Olivia as she tried to move her legs away, acting as if she wore nothing more than an object they had to move. First Mehmet took off her shoes, the last remaining item of clothing though it offered her little protection. They took the rope that bound her wrists off the hook above her and placed her on the floor. Working quickly, they cut through the rope binding her wrists together and without giving her a moment’s respite, pulled her arms down and bound her wrists together behind her back. Mehmet then bent the girls legs back on themselves until her heels were touching her wrists, tied her heels together and then secured her arms and legs to each other. Meanwhile, Hasan took a length of rope and tied it around her stomach, before tying the loose end to her hands and feet, leaving a small loop at the end. Finally, Hasan took the girls hair, tied it into a pony tail and then tied that to the knot in the middle. Between them they then lifted Olivia up and put the loop round the same hook, suspended in the air. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.

  Olivia couldn’t believe how quickly she had been brought down, tied back up and hung back up by the two men. Nor could she comprehend the callousness with which they had treated her, as if she were a joint of meat in a butcher’s shop. Her legs and arms were tied tightly behind her back and try as she might she couldn’t move them. Her head had been tied back so she could only look up, her face pointed straight ahead at Greta. The one thing she was relieved about was the rope around her midriff, which took the strain off her shoulders for the first time. The skill of the binding was illustrated by her body shape, which was perfectly parallel to the ground, save for her breasts which hung down beneath her. Greta pushed her slightly so as to check the bonds, flicked her nipples a couple of times, and then strode back to the other two girls.

  “Ok then,” again she spoke with the same tone, “who’s next?”

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not condone any of the actions depicted in this work. The actions depicted here are to be read only by those who recognise the moral and legal implications of these actions, and understand that this tale is purely fantasy. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or find it difficult to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

Author’s Note: Second chapter of this tale, I heartily recommend you read the first before continuing. Again, I would like to ask for any feedback whatsoever, it would be much appreciated. Whatever it is, be it criticisms, praises, suggestions for the characters or plot, queries or requests I would be delighted to hear them. Enjoy.

Lucy had been hanging motionless throughout Olivia’s ordeal. She had attempted to shut it out, closing her eyes and trying desperately to pretend that none of it was happening. But the whimpers coming from her friend’s mouth and the grunts of the man who was fucking her made it impossible to ignore. Lucy had resolved to watch what happened, to see if she could prepare herself for whatever she would have to endure. It broke her heart watching her friend go through the brutal rape. She was so used to seeing Olivia happy cheerful and cracking jokes, so much so that often her friends incessant positivity occasionally irritated her, but she could see all of that crushed as Mehmet bucked in and out of her. She shed tears for her friend, but she knew that worse was to come. She had always been the most streetwise of the three of them, illustrated by her reluctance to accept drinks in the bar, and she knew that just raping Olivia would not be enough for these people. The more she thought about it the more she cursed herself for getting into this position. How could she have been so stupid!? These were thoughts going through her head as she watched Olivia get trussed up in a bizarre position, and then the glare of that woman fell on her.

  “Lucy,” Greta said it as if she were hosting the world’s most sadistic game show, “your turn.”

Lucy snapped out of her self reflective mood at the mention of her name. Those green eyes were now looking straight into her own. Greta held her gave for a moment, before gesturing to Lucy to come closer. The girl looked confused, wondering how she was supposed to get herself over to this woman in her predicament. However, once she felt the hands on her arse she realised. Mehmet pushed Lucy along the rail until she was halfway between Olivia and Holly’s hanging bodies. Hasan walked in front of her, surveying the lithe beauty in front of him.

  “How do you like Hasan, Lucy?” Greta asked, keeping the same monotonous tone, “You seemed to like him last night. After an hour you were all over him. Typical English slut. Now you have seen what I have done to your friend. I don’t think you will enjoy this any more.”

  Lucy was determined not to give this woman the satisfaction of seeing her upset, but it was very difficult. She had only been trying to enjoy herself, a night out with her girls, meeting some nice European men. How could this possibly have happened?

  “You remember what I said last night baby?” Hasan asked, not even trying to contain his excitement, “I said I would rip that dress right off you, yes?”

  Lucy didn’t remember. She could just about remember the barman, but she didn’t remember talking to him. But it didn’t matter. She saw Mehmet coming up from the side with a large wooden piece of furniture. He placed it down between Hasan and Lucy, and she saw what it was. It looked like a modified wooden horse, with the neck and head removed, and a slightly raised bump at one end. It was heavy, having taking all of Mehmet’s considerable strength to bring it over. It was quite high, about waist height, with straps near the bottom of all four legs.

Mehmet smiled as he looked first at the contraption, then at Lucy, images running through his mind. Hasan stepped over the horse and stood right in front of the girl. He ran his hand down her cleavage, but took less time than Mehmet on Olivia. Watching his friend fuck the cute little blonde had turned him on something fierce, and he couldn’t wait to get started. He grabbed the fabric of her dress and tore downwards. The shoulder straps didn’t give way immediately, digging into Lucy’s skin, but final yank from Hasan and the fabric tore and slid down the girl’s body into a crumpled heap on the floor. Even without her figure hugging dress she still looked gorgeous, barely an ounce of extra fat on her teenage body. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and Hasan couldn’t wait to get her lace panties off and inspect was underneath. Not bothering with the knife Mehmet had used, Hasan simply tore them to shreds in his hands, exposing a fine patch of hair pointing toward her young tight little pussy. Hasan spent little time admiring her. He reached up and behind her and undid her bra clasp, and then without warning yanked forward, digging the straps into her back before the eventually gave way. His strength was impressive, turning her designer clothes into rags in a matter of seconds. Hasan took a moment to admire her breasts. On her tall body they looked small, but as Hasan demonstrated as he quickly fondled them, they were plenty big enough to have some fun with. Lucy hung still throughout the whole ideal, seemingly resigned to her fate. When Mehmet went down to her ankles and cut through the rope, she almost held her legs up waiting for the invasion into her vagina. But Mehmet did not repeat Olivia’s routine. Instead he took her wrists off the hook and let her fall to the floor. The impact woke Lucy up, and the fear of not knowing what was about to happen was suddenly all over her.

  Hasan and Mehmet moved quickly. Mehmet grabbed Lucy by her hips and lifted her onto the horse, while Hasan did the same with her shoulders, lining her up so that the raised bit went just under her pubic hair, and shoulders placed right up at the other end. She was a perfect fit, the length of the horse exactly matching her torso. Hasan then cut through the rope tying her wrists together and brought each arm down to a leather strap on one of the front legs, and tied them tightly. Mehmet then did the same with her legs, securing the straps just above her knee. A strap was then passed over her back, securing her in place, and then further straps on each of the legs were secured to rings in the floor.  Lucy was now bent over the rudimentary apparatus, her arse sticking up tantalisingly in the air, the width of the horse causing her legs to spread wide, giving Mehmet behind a full view of her pussy and arsehole.

  Greta stalked around Lucy, admiring her body from every angle. She ran the crop delicately over her back, teasing her by occasionally tapping her lightly with the tip of the crop. Moving round to the rear of the girl, Greta ran the crop over Lucy’s exposed holes, each time causing the girl to twitch and buck a little. Just as she had with Olivia, Greta grazed the cheeks of Lucy’s arse with the crop, before bringing it down hard, this time twice, both times savouring the whimper that followed. Tracing her crop across the girl once more she moved round to the front, signalling to Mehmet to pull the girl’s head up so she could look her in the eye. Just out of her eye line, Lucy could see Hasan undressing.

  “I am sure you have guessed what is about to happen,” Greta’s unwavering demeanour only grew more chilling, “but it is not the same as for your friend. Given your actions last night, Hasan will punish you in a way more deserving of your status.”

  Greta stepped out of the way to allow Lucy a clear view of Hasan. He stood in front of her, stripped of his clothes, his body sculpted like a Greek statue. But the only thing Lucy could see was his manhood. Hasan held his cock in his hand, spitting on hand and rubbing it up and down. It was huge. Lucy had seen Mehmet’s just before he had plunged it into Olivia, and had thought that the biggest she had seen. But Hasan’s easily surpassed that. It was a foot long, and thicker than anything Lucy had seen, even in porn. She may have had a lot of sex, but she was sure that it would not fit inside her. She also noticed he was spitting on it, as if lubricating himself. But if they hadn’t done that for Olivia, why were they doing it for her?

  Hasan walked up to the bound girl with a huge smile on his face, unable to contain his excitement. He had been waiting for this moment since he had flirted with her at the bar. As soon as he had seen the three girls walk in he had signalled to Mehmet, declaring that these would be the targets for the evening. He had expertly spiked their drinks, giving them just enough so as not to alarm them, but plenty that they could be easily taken back to the castle. He knew he would enjoy fucking all three of them, but it was this stuck up bitch that he had been waiting most eagerly for. As soon as he saw he had known her type, always walking around like they owned the place, sneering down her nose at every man she met. He walked up to her and rubbed the end of his dick over her face, relishing the look of disgust she tried to give him. He then moved towards her rear, trailing his free hand along her back, teasing her. Mehmet moved back behind Greta, as if taking up a better position to watch the show. Hasan stood at the back of the girl, admiring her two holes splayed open for him. Moving into his position, he ran the tip of his cock along the lips of her pussy, leaving one hand on the small of her back so he could feel her body tense. He spat on his cock one last time lined up at the entrance to her vagina, and then, just as he felt her relax as if to accept her fate, he moved his dick an inch higher.

  As she felt the cock rubbing against her pussy lips, Lucy braced herself for the invading cock into her vagina. Her fists were clenched, her nails digging into her palms, her feet curled up as she prepared to be fucked. But as she felt the dick move away from her vagina, and over her puckered arsehole, she relaxed, completely thrown by this new development, and that split second was enough for Hasan to slip just the end of his cock in before her arsehole clenched again. Lucy panicked as she felt this unexpected invasion, clenching as quickly and firmly as she could, trying desperately to force Hasan’s cock back out. Though she continued to shut her sphincter as hard as she could, she could not force him out.

  “Hey baby,” Hasan rested, waiting for Lucy to tire, “I said I would show you good time. It is shame it is not for you!”

  Lucy would have gritted her teeth had it not been for the ball gag wedged in her mouth. She was stretching every sinew in her body to try to shut him out. She may have been with a lot of men, but she had not let any of them into her arse. She had never before seen a reason to let a man she barely knew use her like a porn star, and if she were ever to do it, it would only be with somebody she was serious about. To have this brute do it to her for the first time angered her, but perhaps worse for a girl as proud as Lucy, that a man was treating her just like a piece of meat, and that she could do nothing about it. Soon she couldn’t hold out anymore. Hasan had his full weight bearing down on her, and when she relented for just a split second, he slid in another couple of inches. Again Lucy clenched, but with more of Hasan’s cock inside her, she already knew her task was a hopeless one. She held for as long as she could, but once again she relented, and once again Hasan inched his way forward, before she used her last reserves of strength to tense once again.

  Hasan groaned as he slid a little further into the girl. He was surprised how powerfully she was clenching her hole on his cock, stopping his slid into her virgin arsehole. But it didn’t matter to him. He knew she wouldn’t be able to keep him out forever, and each time she released for a split second he continued his inexorable progress deep into her bowels. But even if it took him an hour to get inside her he wouldn’t care, he just savoured the warm clench of her cheeks against his cock, enjoying the sight of her back twitching as she tried desperately to keep him out. He was halfway buried inside her, and he thought for a moment about forcing his way in, but decided against it. It would be much better if she allowed him in, giving up the rights to her body almost voluntarily. However, he looked up to see Greta scowling at him, obviously impatient. And so, when Lucy next relaxed just a little, Hasan thrust forward with all his weight, and buried his cock up to the hilt.

  Lucy couldn’t believe the size of the dick that was buried inside her. It felt like her entire body would split in two as she felt it slide all the way into her, feeling Hasan’s wiry pubic hair pressed up against her arse cheeks. The pain of his dick just being there was bad enough, and she could barely contain her tears as she thought about what it would be like once he started fucking in and out of her. As he moved his cock slowly back she tried to clench again, but she had no strength left. He pulled out until only the head remained inside her, and then rammed forward, this time all his weight and all 12” of his cock slamming into her rigid body, held firmly to the horse by the straps. The leather rubbed on her back, her wrists and her legs, her nipples and pussy rubbing slightly against the harsh wood. The slap of Hasan’s swinging testicles against her inner thighs reverberated around the basement. He reached out to grab a chunk of her and yanked her head back as he pulled out and the slammed into her again, and again. The walls of her arse chute gripped him harder than anything he had experienced before, but with each thrust Lucy’s resolve weakened, and soon Hasan was able to pump in and out of the poor girl faster and faster. With one hand gripping Lucy’s long black hair tightly, he used the other to grip her left hip tightly as he slammed into her again and again.

  Mehmet watched as Hasan fucked the brains out of the poor girl. In pulling her hair back Hasan had pulled the girls head up and allowed Greta and Mehmet to look into the little bitch’s eyes. He loved watching when they did this, loved watching the fight as it slowly disappeared from their eyes. Looking at the anguish in her eyes as Hasan’s giant prick fucked in and out of her arsehole had got him stirring again, though he knew he would have plenty of time to enjoy himself later. Greta, meanwhile, was enjoying it just as much. In fact, watching Mehmet rape the blonde girl, and now Hasan sodomise the tall one had her pussy on fire. But she had self restraint. There would be plenty of time for her fun later.

  Hasan and Lucy, though, were too lost in their own world to care about their audience. The grip and warmth of Lucy’s arsehole was pure ecstasy for Hasan, whose speed was now increasing with every thrust. His hips pounded into her arse cheeks with frightening force, shaking the heavy horse that Lucy was mounted on. His cock burrowed into her, pushing as deep into her bowels as it was possible to go.

  While the rape was pure heaven for Hasan, it was absolute torture for Lucy. With every thrust forward the straps on her wrist, ankles and back were rubbing her skin raw. Her nipples and pussy were being rubbed mercilessly on the wood. Her hair felt like it was being pulled straight out of its roots, and her jaw ached from hours with the gag in. But that was nothing compared to the pain in her arse. The walls of arse chute were spread impossibly wide, and it felt like at any moment she might tear in two. Every time Hasan’s huge member ploughed into her the pain in her arsehole worsened, his barely using any lubrication causing the burning on the inner walls to grew worse and worse. And as each stroke got quicker and quicker as Hasan moved toward his climax, the pain in Lucy’s arse became unbearable, tears streaming down her face, screaming into her gag. He was now pumping in and out of her at a ferocious speed, grunting fiercely as time and again he slammed his member as far into her as it could her, repeatedly slapping her arse cheeks with his free hand. The horse, though secured firmly to the floor, squeaked and rocked with every thrust, such was the force that Hasan was creating. And he was close. He pulled Lucy’s hair toward him with as much force as he could muster, thrust deep into her and felt his balls tightening as he prepared to spill his seed.

  Lucy screamed her very loudest as her hair was very nearly yanked out of her head. Hasan’s body slammed into her one final time, harder than he had before and burrowing so far into her Lucy felt he would pop out of her mouth. She felt his entire body twitch before wave after wave of cum flooded her bowels. It seemed like the torrent would never end, as Hasan came as hard as he had ever come in his life. He pulled her hair back further again, causing her hole to tighten and milk the last drops of cum out of his softening member. He collapsed on top of her, until after a few seconds he felt his dick go soft and slip out of her arse, now slick with cum and the smallest trickle of blood. Hasan used Lucy’s back to heave himself up, then walked round and crouched in front of his victim, staring her directly in the eye. At this Greta strode toward Lucy.

  “Well done Hasan,” she said as trailed the crop across Lucy’s back again, “I’m sure our guest would love to thank you for all your hard work.”

  Greta passed her crop slowly down Lucy’s crack and over her abused hole, making sure to run the tip over the sore area repeatedly,

  “Listen slut,” she continued, “you are going to thank your master for giving you what you wanted. For this you will need to be able to speak. I am sure you will be obedient. But if you are not, Mehmet will cut off your friend’s nipple.”

  Lucy looked up to see Mehmet stood under Olivia, his fingers pinching her hanging right breast just below the nipple, and holding a knife against her sensitive flesh. Olivia’s eyes were wide with fear, looking directly into Mehmet’s as he smiled back at her. She glanced down at Lucy for a split second, pleading with her friend to spare her.

  “Is that understood, whore?”

  Although she hated every aspect of the situation, Lucy knew she had no choice,. She would do anything for her friend, and even if it meant debasing herself by thanking her rapist, and answering to the names of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ she would do it. Gathering herself she nodded slowly.

  “Excellent, take it off Hasan. And remember,” Greta punctuated this with a short slap on Lucy’s arse cheek, “one word out of turn and blondie loses a nipple.”

  Hasan moved his hands round to the strap of Lucy’s gag, not taking his eyes of hers the entire time. He slowly took the red ball out of Lucy’s mouth, the dryness of her lips causing it to stick for a moment, before it came away. Lucy’s jaw ached so much from the gag that it took her a moment just to close it. Her mouth was so dry, and she started to panic as she realised she couldn’t speak immediately. She desperately tried to get some moisture into her mouth, so desperate was she to save her friend.

  “I thought you had something to say.”

  “Thaaaaa…” Lucy was fighting to get the words out.

  “Go on.”

  “Thaaan..k….y…” 

  “Spit it out bitch.”

  “Thankkkkk yoouuuu…”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something,” Greta teased, then her voice suddenly hardening as she thrashed the riding crop against Lucy’s arse again to draw a whimper from her parched mouth, “address him properly.”

  “Thank you……master.”

   With that Hasan leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, and then planted his mouth on Lucy’s, thrusting his tongue playfully into her. He then stood up, leaving his cock dangling in front of her face. Lucy had never felt so low in her entire life. Not only had she been drugged and kidnapped, she had then been anally raped and had had to thank her rapist, before he had kissed her. She felt like all of her dignity and self respect had completely disappeared. But things were about to get even worse.

  “Good girl,” Greta’s monotonous tone taking on a more patronising edge, before hardening again, “now beg to suck his cock.”

  Lucy was stunned. She tried to look up at Greta to see if she was serious, but couldn’t get her hand round with her restraints. Instead she looked up, at Hasan, who was looking down at her grinning. His cock was inches from her face, and the smell was appalling, sweat, blood, cum and anything else stuck to his dick from her anal rape which didn’t bear thinking about. Lucy closed her eyes, as if hoping that she’d misheard, unable to contemplate what deep down she knew she would have to do.

  “Well if you won’t show your gratitude,” Greta snarled, “then Mehmet will have to…”

  “Please!” Lucy interrupted.

  “Yes?”

“Please….let me ss..ss.suck your…c..cock…” Lucy’s sentence trailed off.

  “Address him properly!” Greta’s cool demeanour vanished for a split second as she barked the command at Lucy, before moving back to the unsettlingly calm woman, “or you know the consequences.”

  “Please master, let me….suck your cock.”

  Lucy didn’t flinch saying it, for she knew she had absolutely no choice. As horrendous an experience as it might be, she could not live with the alternative. No sooner had the words left her mouth Hasan took a step forward until his limp cock was millimetres from her tongue. Lucy had sucked cock before,  a number of times, but never under these circumstances, never when the dick she had to suck was covered in so much grime.

  “Clean me bitch.”

Knowing she didn’t have a choice, Lucy stuck her tongue out and tentatively licked the head of Hasan’s cock. The taste was horrendous, like nothing she had ever experienced before. Using just her tongue, she attempted to bring more of his now limp but still large dick into her mouth. Hasan brushed her hair to one side, and slowly lowered his cock along her outstretch tongue. As more and more of his dick slid into her mouth, so the taste became worse for Lucy. As if getting raped in the arse weren’t bad enough, she now had to clean her own blood and shit off his cock. The taste was appalling, and several times Lucy had to hold back the vomit, knowing full well that would be severely punished. She ran the length of her tongue along his giant shaft, endeavouring to get the job done as quickly as possible. To her relief, Hasan’s cock did not rise again, despite how much he was enjoying her warm soft tongue running up and down his cock. He would loved to have worked up an erection, which he would have given another minute with this girl’s expert work, and skull fuck her into oblivion, but he knew there would be plenty of time to do whatever he wanted, and they had other work to do first. So Hasan just relaxed let his little bitch run her sweet little tongue up and down his cock. After about a minute, and just as he felt like he was getting hard again, he backed out, leaving Lucy with her tongue sticking out, still with her gaping arsehole leaking cum onto the cold stone floor.

  “What do you say?”

  “Thank you master,” Lucy didn’t need a prompt; she knew already that she was in no position to argue.

  “Put her gag back in Hasan,” Greta, after giving her one final spank with the crop, moved round to Lucy’s face, “we don’t want her disturbing us.”

  Hasan obliged, quickly fastening the gag back into Lucy’s mouth, who offered no resistance. He tapped her lightly on the cheek and kissed her on the forehead, which humiliated Lucy still further.

  “Good job Hasan. Now, just one more to go.”

                                                             ------------------------------------

   Greta moved steadily over toward Holly. Holly knew she was coming. She had tried and failed to block out the sounds of what seemed like many hours, but had in fact been less than one. She had heard had been the grunts of the men as they fucked, the whimpers from her friends as they were fucked, the slap of flesh on the flesh and the squeak of wood and clinking of metal, and all the time the voice of that woman, unmoving, showing little emotion. She had heard as Lucy had been forced to beg so obsequiously to her rapist, and then as Greta had announced the inevitable; that she was next. Her eyes slammed shut, all she could do was hear as the shoes that were rapping on the floor came to a halt in front of her. Holly hung motionless, waiting for whatever this lunatic was going to do to her.

  Greta looked the girl up and down. Her innocent little face was streaked with tears, huge wet patches on her dress from tears and saliva that had drooled out of her mouth, spread obscenely wide by the bright red gag. Her long slender legs hung limply beneath her, as if the girl were just a corpse. Indeed, were it not for the rise and fall of the girl’s chest Greta may have been concerned, worried that she might not be able to have her fun with this one. And Greta was staring at this chest now. She could tell by the bulge in the girls dress that hiding underneath the fabric was a pair of huge tits, and Greta immediately hated the girl. As demonstrated by her cleavage, Greta’s breasts had never grown above an A cup, and it had always been a sore point with her. Seeing this little bitch, so pathetic hanging there, being blessed with something she so clearly didn’t deserve. Rage built up inside the usually calculating German, and she lashed out.

  The blow to her chest knocked all the wind out of Holly and caused her eyes to fly open. Greta’s cold and narrow green eyes were as far away as possible from the big brown doe eyes that stared back at her, flush with shock at the sudden violence. Holly gasped for breath, though with the ball gag restricting her breathing for a moment she felt she was going to pass out. Slowly she managed to fill her lungs again, still breathing deeply while Greta looked on with almost a smile on her face. Holly looked pleadingly into the eyes of her assailant, but she would find no mercy there. Greta relished the look of pain and fear in the girl’s eyes. Greta reached out and stroked the girl’s face, loving how she tried in vain to move away from her touch, and then brought the flat of her hand crashing against the poor girl’s cheek. Holly tried to scream, but the gag stifled everything save for a muffled whimper. Enjoying the muffled sounds coming from her mouth, Greta worked her hands down the girl’s torso, as if searching her at an airport. She felt along her sides, then moved her hands quickly over her breasts before moving further down, feeling the girl’s arse and hips. She was pleased to note the girl was fit, her body a beautiful hourglass shape with a small waist and a nice toned arse.

   “Mehmet,” Greta didn’t take her eyes of the girl for one moment, “over here.”

  Mehmet gave Olivia a quick pat on the cheek and moved toward Holly. He didn’t even try to hide the glee on his face. He had been waiting for this one the most. From the moment he had sat down with the three girls he had noticed this one. Shy and retiring, he could tell that she had little experience with men, and he had been instantly drawn to the girls breasts. And as he approached with his knife in hand her could not wait to cut her dress to ribbons and play with her.

  “Ok,” Greta stated matter of factly, “let’s get her ready.”

  Mehmet moved quickly toward her and pressed the knife against her cheeks. He looked deep into Holly’s big brown eyes, grinning as he drank in her fear. Holly was absolutely terrified. She had seen the brutality of these people with her friends, and she didn’t even want to think about what they might do to her. She couldn’t believe that she had thought about this man the night before as potential for her first time. Now the cold steel pressed against her flesh she knew it was real, and that this wouldn’t be the first time she had always dreamed of.

  After caressing her cheek with the knife, he moved it down her torso, until it came to rest on her waist. Mehmet grabbed the belt that held the dress at the girl’s waist, and cut through it with one swift jerk of his hand. The belt fell to the floor, the dress now shapeless and hanging off the girl’s shoulders. Mehmet trailed the knife up again, making sure to trace the tip over Holly’s breasts. He brought the knife under one shoulder strap, and sliced through the fabric, allowing a portion of it to fall and expose her bra, and the top of her magnificent cleavage. Mehmet could barely contain his excitement as he moved the knife across her chest to the other shoulder and cut through the strap. The dress fell down and caught on Holly’s chest, revealing the tops of her breasts beautifully encased within a black bra. Mehmet pulled down on the fabric and the dress fell to the floor. Mehmet could now gaze on the full majesty of her cleavage. Her huge tits were not meant to be on display, but even Holly’s modest bra couldn’t hide her assets from Mehmet’s hungry gaze. He stared down open mouthed at her breasts, even within the confines of her bra they were magnificent. Mehmet could have looked at that cleavage all day, whether it be in a magazine or now, right in front of him. But there was more to come.

   Holly closed her eyes as she felt her dress slide down her body. She could feel Mehmet’s eyes burning into her as he stared deep into her cleavage. She felt an overwhelming feeling of shame, although she knew deep down it was going to get so much worse. Mehmet’s fingers moved gradually across the top of her cleavage, pushing slightly into her flesh with his nails. He could feel the stirring already, and decided to press on. He pulled the shoulder straps together behind Holly’s back, pulling the back strap with them until it looked like her breasts were going to explode through the fabric. He cut through the shoulder straps, but kept hold of them, keeping the cups of her bra pushed deep into her tits. With one hand still pulling on her bra straps, Mehmet put the knife underneath the fabric connecting the two cups, and cut through it. Holly’s bra disappeared in an instant. Her tits bounced wildly into view, bouncing back from the strain of the bra much to Mehmet’s delight. He stepped back level with Greta, and looked down on her still jiggling assets.

  Holly’s breasts were perfect. They were huge, bigger than Mehmet had ever seen in the flesh. On her medium sized frame they hung perfectly on her chest, with not a hint of sag. They were perfectly symmetrical, high up on her chest, and from what he could see, exactly the right balance of soft and firm. They were topped by large pale nipples, hardened by her fear at her situation. With each breath the Holly took her tits moved up and down slightly, her hanging body causing them to sway very lightly. Mehmet could have stared at her chest all day. It was as if Mehmet had chosen the perfect breasts and put them on this girl. He could not wait to get his hands all over them, to play with them, to torture them. His cock was hard thinking of things he would do to her, and the pain that it would cause her. Greta stepped forward.

  Holly was filled with shame as her bra was cut away. For a girl that was so self conscious about her body, this was an absolute nightmare. Even though she had shut her eyes, she could feel both pairs of eyes burning into her chest as both Mehmet and Greta leered at her tits. Greta had once again been filled with rage upon seeing the girl’s bra fall away. Not only had she been blessed with a huge pair, but they were perfect, not a blemish on them. She stood just inches away from them, and brought her hand up to Holly’s left breast, just cupping it gently. She weighed Holly’s flesh in her hand, surprised by how heavy her breast was. Then without warning she slapped hard against her tit. Holly’s eyes shot open, in time for another savage blow. Greta struck Holly’s left globe five times, each time the flesh wobbling violently, and a whimper emanating from the girl’s mouth. Without saying a word, Greta brought her other hand up and gave the same treatment to the other breast until both of Holly’s tits had crimson patches growing on them.

  Having let out her initial rage, Greta slowly regained her composure as she trailed her long nails across Holly’s heaving breasts. Holly flinched even at this tender touch, expecting worse. But for now Greta remained soft, tracing along her tits with the tips of her fingers, circling her index finger slowly around Holly’s erect nipple, before pinching it softly, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. Holly knew what she was going to do before she did it, Greta’s soft and teasing touch only making it worse for the girl.

  “Look at me.”

Greta accentuated this by sharply twisting Holly’s right nipple, causing her to cry out, a muffled scream all that made its way out of the gag. She threw her head back, as if this would alleviate the pain, but to no avail, and Greta continued to apply the pressure. It didn’t take long for Holly to obey, looking straight at her tormentor. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mehmet’s big cock standing fully erect. Greta stopped increasing the pressure on the poor girl’s nipple, but did not release. With her free hand she began to play with Holly’s other tit, squeezing and slapping it.

  “Good bitch,” Greta retained her eerie monotone, “let me tell you a story.”

  With each she paused she delivered another slap to Holly’s breast, or increased the pressure on her nipple just slightly.

  “When I was in high school, there was this one girl in my class. Daphne. She was very popular. Everybody loved Daphne, did anything for her. Even she and I were friends, would often talk and tease one another. One day she teased me about my breasts, just friendly, no harm intended. But you see, I am not as blessed as you or her.”

This last syllable was coupled with another sharp twist of Holly’s sensitive nub, drawing yet another whimper from her. Greta continued to softly maul her other breast, before tightly pinching that nipple too.

  “So I pretended to laugh and forget about it. I spoke to some people my father knew, and one day, after school, we took her. She struggled so much, much more than you or your whore friends. And once we had taken her where we wanted, we tortured her.”

  This time Greta fiercely twisted both of the girl’s nipples, and Holly’s whole body shook with pain, though she kept her eyes firmly locked on her tormentor’s, partly as she was scared what might happen if she didn’t, partly as she was too scared to move.

  “Oh you should have heard her scream. It was like nothing I had before. So beautiful. To see her pretty face in such pain. Of course, the men, they raped her, over and over. That is what men do, as you will soon find out. But me, I just wanted to hurt her. And I did. I hurt her all over. But most of all, I hurt these.”

  Once again Greta brutally assaulted Holly’s sensitive nipples. She then stepped back, and gestured toward Mehmet, who disappeared into the back of the room, came back and handed something to Greta.

  “She didn’t understand why I was doing it to her.  But it was all her fault. Just because she had those ridiculous big tits. But don’t worry. I won’t let you miss out on anything. I don’t care who you are, your name, your hobbies, anything. All you are is a cunt, an asshole, a mouth and tits. Just tits. That could be your new name. All of you are the same, looking down on anyone who doesn’t have those obscene melons on their chest. That won’t be the case when I’ve finished. You will wish you’d never had them. I will make you wish you were flat chested like a little girl. But nothing can save you now.”

   Holly had looked into Greta’s eyes through a wall of tears. She had wanted to scream at Greta, to tell her how everything she was saying about her was wrong, how she did not look down on any girls. Certainly not because of the size of their breasts. But it wouldn’t have mattered. Greta didn’t care. All that Greta wanted was to hurt her. And she was about to do just that.

  “Mehmet, take the bitch’s panties off and that gag out,” Greta snapped, before turning her attentions toward Holly, “And remember, slut, what will happen if you say anything out of turn.”

  Holly looked across to Olivia, and saw Hasan standing next to her, toying with her nipple with a long curved knife. Holly knew exactly what Greta was threatening. She felt Mehmet’s knife against her skin again, as he made short work of her underwear, exposing her pussy to the room. Quick as a flash, Mehmet had moved towards her head, and unclipped her ball gag. Holly’s mouth was so dry it was painful, and she desperately tried to fill her mouth with saliva. Before she had a chance to let a sound out of her mouth, there was a loud crack, and her right breast exploded in pain.

  Greta brought the leather strap down hard right onto Holly’s right tit, and it hit with a loud crack that echoed around the room. It was followed a split second later by an equally loud scream from Holly. Immediately Greta swung again, this time catching Holly’s left breast right on the nipple, causing yet another howl of pain louder even than the first. Already a large red stripe was appearing on Holly’s right breast, and it was soon joined by another as once again Greta swung down viciously with the thick strap. Standing slightly to one side, Greta brought the strap down diagonally across both of Holly’s tits, each time eliciting a blood curdling scream from the girl. Mehmet and Hasan both watched in delight as Holly writhed and twisted in her bondage to try and escape the strap as it rained down on her luscious tits, but to no avail. Greta showed mercy as time and time again she brought the thick brown leather crashing down on Holly’s pale tits, which were rapidly turning a crimson red. Greta moved round to the other side of Holly, giving her just a moment to catch her breath and take in the searing pain from her boobs. But it wasn’t long before Greta started swinging again, her face twisted into an angry snarl as she landed blow after blow with the strap across both of Holly’s tits.

   Holly writhed in pain as she was struck with savage blow after savage blow across her tits. She screamed at the top of her lungs each time the thick leather thudded into her chest. It felt like her breasts were on fire, each vicious strike only worsening it. Greta struck hard with the strap again and again, trying to cover every inch of the girl’s tits until they were painted a bright scarlet red. Greta brought the leather down a few final times on Holly’s poor abused nipples, and then allowed her arm to fall by her side. Thrashing the girl’s tits had been tough work and she had to stop for a rest, though that hadn’t stopped her enjoying every single second ever of it. Wielding that strap with such venom on those globes had been pure bliss. The way they had jiggled with each strike from the leather had been tantalising, and when coupled with her shrieks of anguish Greta had lost herself in a world of rage and ecstasy. Now she dropped the strap and stared at the damage she had caused, the girl’s perfect chest was throbbing; so many strikes across her tits had painted them a crimson red which was growing angrier by the second. Holly’s nipples seemed to have swollen slightly under the assault, and Greta could tell they would be exceptionally sore. She though about covering the girl’s whole body with the strap, until every last inch of her felt like it was on fire, but decided that could wait. There would be plenty of time for that in the next act.

  Mehmet and Hasan had stood throughout the ordeal in their respective positions completely mesmerised by the sight that befell them, both their cocks rock hard as they watched. Even Mehmet had been surprised by the ferocity that Greta had struck the girl with each blow looking like it would flay her skin away, although he knew Greta would not have allowed that to happen.. They had both savoured the sounds of the girl’s screams of agony echoed around the stone walls of the basement. The girl’s scarlet tits moved rapidly up and down as she tried desperately to catch her breath, tears streaming down her face. Hasan had been toying with Olivia’s hanging tits as he had watched, desperately resisting the temptation to play with himself. Each time the leather had bitten into Holly’s skin, Hasan had twisted Olivia’s nipples, enjoying the squirm of his hanging captive each time. Mehmet had no outlet for his desires, and so just stood and watched, drinking in the sights and sounds as Greta brought the strap down again and again.

  Both Olivia and Lucy had closed their eyes tightly as Greta landed blow after blow on Holly. But they could not shield their ears from the crack of the leather on her skin or the screams of anguish from their friend that followed them. Whenever they did catch a glimpse they were shocked by the savagery with which the German swung the weapon, the force with which she connected with the poor girl’s breasts. With each swing of the strap that landed squarely on those big tits, Olivia let out a squeal as Hasan gleefully twisted and pulled on Olivia’s tits, who was already aching from her uncomfortable hogtie, as well as the pain her pussy had been subjected to during her rape. Meanwhile, Lucy kept her eyes closed, the pain in her arsehole still throbbing, and hung her head down, trying not only to forget her own anal rape, but to block out the sounds of Holly’s torture. As the sound of leather and skin ceased, she dared to look up, and was horrified to see Holly’s breasts, so perfect usually, be painted with red welts one on top of the other, and she feared about what was to come for all of them.

  “Mehmet,” Greta continued as if nothing have happened, “time.”

  Upon Greta’s instruction, Mehmet moved swiftly over behind Holly, and ran his hands up her torso until he reached her tits. Gleefully he took them into his hands, drawing whimpers from Holly, as he slowly squeezed her globes. He moved his fingers up to her sore nipples and toyed with them, rolling them between his fingers, pinching and twisting them. Holly was too exhausted to cry out as he subtly abused her, only managing to whimper softly as his rough hands buried themselves into her tits. Mehmet was in heaven as he took her massive globes in each hand as best he could, feeling radiating off her skin as he slowly began to knead Holly’s tits from behind. His semi trance was quickly broken though.

  “Quickly”

  Mehmet took quick notice of Greta’s stern words and quickly unhooked Holly’s arms from the ceiling. Quick as a flash he cut through the ropes that held her hands and feet, and brought her arms behind her back, quickly retying them again before she even had a chance to react. Then, holding her up by her stomach with one hand, he adjusted the hook above her head, lowering it a couple of feet. Mehmet then lifted Holly up and hooked her wrists onto the chain, holding her there for a second before slowly bringing his hands away. Holly’s torso was slowly lowered while her hands maintained their position on the hook. Slowly but surely her entire weight was taken onto her shoulders, and in a way far more painful than before. She was being put in a classic strappado position, her arms pulled painfully upwards behind her back, her entire weight placed on her shoulders. Holly squealed as it felt as though her arms were being pulled out of their sockets, and coupled with the pain in her tits it felt like her whole body was on fire. Mehmet reached through the girl’s arms, pushing his erect cock between her legs at the same time, and pulled back on her hair, forcing her head up and her eyes to look at Greta.

  Greta moved toward Holly. As she walked the stared deep into those big brown eyes, now filled with a look of pure terror, and her pretty, innocent little face that was now covered in streaks from her tears. Greta drank it all in, revelling in the suffering she had already caused these three sluts. And she had only just started. Having reached Holly with the girl’s face below her, Greta knelt down so she could look directly into her eyes. With one hand she reached out and snatched at one of Holly’s abused tits, drawing a moan of pain from the girl, while with the other she held her face so the babe couldn’t look away.

  “I hope you enjoyed that,” Olivia almost broke into a smile, “because that’s not the last time I’ll be torturing those udders of yours.”

  Holly tried to close her eyes and look away as Greta spoke to her, but a sharp slap soon put paid to that, and she was forced to look straight at her tormentor.

  “Now now slut, behave yourself,” Greta talked to Holly as if it were a student-teacher dynamic, rather a sadistic torturer talking to her captive, “or I’ll get the strap out again. Now I think it’s time you showed us just how good a little whore you are. Mehmet is going to fuck your tight virgin cunt. You can scream and shout all you want, the more the better, but it won’t matter. He won’t stop until he’s filled you with his cum. Enjoy.”

  With that Greta gave her tit one last squeeze, stroked her cheek and moved away, taking up her position to watch the show.

  Holly was stunned. She couldn’t believe this woman knew she was a virgin, that she knew this most intimate fact about her without ever having met her before. In fact Mehmet had known the moment he’d met her, as had Greta, so good were they at reading these girls. But more than that, she could not believe that this was how she was to lose her virginity. Although deep down she had known the moment she had woken up in this hell hole, but now it was upon her. All the times she had thought about how she would lose it, but this was nothing she had ever countenanced. But she had little time to get used to it.

  Mehmet didn’t need a second invitation. Quick as a flash Mehmet had pulled Holly’s legs apart, and had lined up his dick with the entrance to the girl’s cunt, until the tip was resting at her opening. His hands moved round and rested themselves inevitably on her tits, hanging so tantalisingly below her aching body. His rough palms squeezed her globes into her chest, digging in his finger tips so as to get as much purchase as possible. He inched his dick slightly inside her, feeling the heat of her sex on his cock. His shaft was still slick from the rape of Olivia, but he could already feel that it was still going to be a tight fit. He pushed his dick further in, until he felt the tip come into contact with her cherry. With barely an inch inside of her, he squeezed her luscious tits as hard as he could and thrust forward.

  Holly screamed as hard as she could as she felt her virginity torn apart. The pain ripped through her crotch with an intensity she couldn’t believe. The brutality of his thrust had tore through her cherry like it was wet paper, and just like that he had taken her virginity. The invading cock buried itself into her virgin pussy, Mehmet’s hips thudding into her arse cheeks. The impact sent her swinging forward, straining her shoulders even further, so much so Holly was certain her arms would pop out. Finally there was the searing pain in her breasts, compounded by Mehmet’s hands mauling them, digging his fingers into her tender flesh. It was the worst possible way to lose her virginity.

  Mehmet pulled his dick almost all the way out, looking down to see streaks of red covering his shaft. Taking time to squeeze her tits again, he drove forward, slamming into her firm arse once again, his scrotum swinging forward underneath her. She had tried to bring her legs back together again in an attempt to close her pussy off to him, but he kicked her away with disdain as once more he thrust into her like a jackhammer. With each thrust he squeezed her tits as hard as he could, burying his fingers into her soft pliable flesh. Leaving his right hand firmly locked on her breast, he moved his left hand down to the nipple on her left tit. Still continuing his pounding of her cunt, his fingers began to pull hard on her swollen nub, pinching and twisting it harder and harder with each drive forward. He was in heaven. Not only did he have those giant tits to sink his hands into, but her pussy fit around his cock like a glove. It was so tight it felt as if she were squeezing it herself, but with the fluids from Olivia’s rape combined with the results of taking the girl’s virginity, he was able to pound in and out with as much force as he wanted.

  Greta watched Mehmet as he rutted with the girl from some way back in the room. She smiled as he grabbed brutally at her tits, drinking in the look of anguish and agony on the girl’s face. She had taken up a position behind Lucy, who was still secured to the wooden horse directly in front of Holly, her arsehole still dripping with the evidence of her rape. Greta gestured to Hasan, who upon hearing the woman move had looked to see what her plans were. Leaving Olivia hanging in her bondage, Hasan moved over to Lucy, all the time with the sounds of Holly’s rape continuing in the background. Without having to hear another word, Hasan set to work. He bent down and undid the straps holding the legs of the horse to the ground, and turned it 90° so that Lucy was now perpendicular to Holly, rather than looking straight at her. It had taken all his strength to move both the girl and the horse, but now it was done he secured the legs to yet more rings in the floor, and looked up at Greta.

  “Take off the gag,” Greta said to Hasan, only just audible over the commotion in the corner.

  Greta had picked up the leather strap she had used to beat Holly’s tits with on her way back to Lucy, and now held it firmly in her right hand, hovering just above Lucy’s pert arse. Hasan bent down and quickly whipped the gag out of the girl’s mouth, who gasped for breath but didn’t say a word, too aware was she of the consequences. Greta stared down at her, and as Mehmet bucked forward into Holly’s cunt, Greta brought the leather crashing down on Lucy’s rump.

THWACK!!!

  Lucy screamed at the top of her lungs as the strap made thunderous contact squarely across both her arse cheeks. The pain ripped through her like a fire, totally consuming her. But before she had chance to regain her composure another lusty blow connected, just below the curve of her arse. Two more strikes quickly followed, each in time with one of Mehmet’s thrusts. Lucy screamed almost continually as her arse and thighs glowed with pain after the four strikes, and Greta looking down could already see large red stripes appearing across the girl’s bronzed skin. The German paused, looked across at Hasan, and nodded.

  Hasan looked across at Greta once more, and upon seeing her nod her head, moved his fully erect cock inches from Lucy’s tear stained face. After taking a second to regain her composure as best she could, Lucy stared up at the man’s face, pleading with her eyes, but she saw nothing but lust. She brought her head back down, looking into the eye of his cock, the same cock she had sucked her own shit off just minutes earlier. Already resigned to her fate, Lucy opened her mouth. Hasan needed no second invitation, and slid his cock into the girl’s mouth along her tongue, savouring the heat on his bell end. Greta bent down and pulled back on Lucy’s hair, moving her face right next to the bound girl’s.

  “Now you will suck his cock,” Greta whispered in Lucy’s ear, her voice even more sinister when it was hushed, “and the quicker you make him cum, the sooner I will stop beating your ass. And if you even teeth so much as touch his dick, I will slit your throat.”

  Greta stood back up, and seeing that Lucy hadn’t moved since her chilling message, she brought the strap down with all her might. The tip caught just between Lucy’s cheeks, right on her abused hole. Were it not for the dick that was resting in her mouth, Lucy’s scream would have almost deafened the entire room. As it was, the vibrations in Lucy’s throat were pure ecstasy for Hasan. Lucy wasted no time in trying to appease Greta, by wrapping her lips around the man’s cock and bobbing her head up and down as best she could. Just a moment passed before Greta landed another brutal blow to the top of Lucy’s thighs, and again Lucy’s piercing scream was blocked by the cock that stuffed her mouth. Lucy used all her expertise trying to pleasure Hasan, using her tongue deftly around his head, running her lips up and down his shaft, trying to get as much of his dick down her throat as she could.

  Hasan stood relaxed as he watched the girl’s head bob frantically up and down on his long shaft. Though he could tell she was trying to get as much of his giant cock into her mouth as possible, but there was still a good few inches of his cock protruding from her gorgeous lips. For a good while her just relaxed, savouring the sensation of Lucy’s desperate blowjob, watching as Greta brought the strap down time and time again on the girl’s arse and thighs, and glancing across to see his friend brutally pounding in and out of Holly, and mercilessly mauling her tits. It was like a scene from a perfect dream for him. But he knew he could make it even better. With one hand he reached down and wrapped his fingers in Lucy’s hair. Then, taking a firm grip on the back of her head, he began to push forward.

  Lucy had been trying desperately to get the man off, trying all the tricks she had picked up over the years. But as soon as she felt the hand on the back of her head she had known what was coming, and tried to prepare herself. Slowly but surely she felt the head of his cock push its way further down her throat. She tried to adjust, tried desperately to let it slide down without gagging, but it was too big. Hasan felt the convulsions in the girl’s throat as she tried desperately to accommodate his member, and Hasan knew that he could go no further, at least not for now. He pulled out just a little bit, and then moved his hips forward quicker this time. Gripping her hair even harder he thrust forward again, just as another blow landed squarely across her arse cheeks. Soon his hips were bucking forward and back almost as vigorously as he had fucked her arse. His pace sped up, and with it, his pleasure.

  All three of them were now in sync. Each time Mehmet drove into Holly’s virgin pussy, Greta brought the strap down hard on Lucy’s arse, and Hasan fucked deep into her throat. Watching in Olivia was sickened as she watched both her friends being horribly abused. Even in her own discomfort and pain, she could feel the pain of her friends with each thrust and swing. She watched as Mehmet brutally pounded into Holly, brutally abusing her tits as he did so. She watched as Greta brought the strap down repeatedly on Lucy’s rear, and while Hasan thrust three quarters of his cock down her throat. It all brought home to Olivia the hopelessness of their situation.

  Mehmet looked across at his friend and smiled at him. The two Turks had synchronised their fucks so that each time they thrust into their respective girls they could watch the pain on the face of the other, which only spurred them on more. The metronomic pace set by the strap’s incessant pounding of Lucy’s cheeks helped them keep to a steady pace at first but as both neared an inevitable climax the pace began to quicken, until both were pumping in and out as fast as they could, buoyed by the sounds of pain and anguish they could hear. Mehmet in particular could hear the effect of his assault on Holly, and as his pace increased and plunged further and further into her now pliable cunt, and twisted and mauled her tits increasingly brutally, and by extension the agony in her whimpers and screeches became more pronounced. A few last brutal strokes and he plunged his hips forward, burying himself right up to the hilt in the girl’s abused pussy, and, mauling her tits so brutally Holly felt like he was going to pull them clean off her chest, he spurted his load inside her.

  Hasan was not far behind. Seeing his friend climax into the hanging girl brought him right to the very edge, and after pounding the back of Lucy’s throat with frightening speed just a few more times he too came, feeling his cock pulse in her mouth as load after load of his cum flooded the girl’s throat. He bent down and held the girl’s nose tightly. He watched as she paused for a second, and then began to fight for breath.

  Lucy felt like she was going to throw up. The head of Hasan’s cock was battering her throat, and she was trying desperately to supress her gag reflex, knowing that it would only be bad news if she were to vomit. She felt as he began to tighten, his grip on the back of head increasing and his cock pushing further and further down her throat. As for her arse and legs, the pain was indescribable. She must have been beaten with the strap thirty times, and it felt like someone had literally set her rear on fire. Indeed the pain was so great that it was almost numb, and so the cock in her mouth was brought even more sharply into focus. Then with one brutal thrust forward he buried almost the full ten inches of his cock down her throat, pushing her nose so hard she felt it might break, and she could feel load after load of his spunk coating her throat. Before she could react he had pinched her nostrils tight, and suddenly she realised she couldn’t breathe. Her mouth was blocked not just by the cock, but was now coated in his sticky cum. Desperately fighting for breath she knew exactly what she had to do, and so, as disgusting as it made her feel, she put all her energy into swallowing his cum. After a couple of gulps, and just as she felt she might pass out, she tried again and was just about to able to breathe through her mouth, his softening cock taking up much less space. Knowing full well what he expected of her, and not wanting to receive further punishment, she skilfully used her tongue to clean of the remnants of his cum from his cock.

  Holly was in a whole world of pain. Her shoulders were screaming at her. Her tits felt like they were on fire. And her pussy was red raw from the jackhammer thrusts of the man who had taken her virginity. With each powerful stroke he not only almost ripped her arms from her sockets but also viciously mauled her tits, his sole intention to cause as much pain as he possibly could. His fingers dug into her flesh, squeezing and mauling her sensitive and tortured globes maliciously with each thrust. Occasionally he would switch his attentions to her swollen nipples, pinching, tugging, twisting and pulling them, seemingly oblivious to the agony it was causing her, but in fact more than aware. Holly couldn’t believe any man could be so brutal, so disregarding of another’s pain, who could take so much pleasure in making somebody else suffer. Suddenly the force of his thrusts increased violently, as did, though she hadn’t believe it possible, the malice with each he tortured her breasts. He thrust forward as hard as he possibly could, very nearly dislocated her shoulders, pushing his cock so deep into her cunt she felt like she might split in two, and with one almighty pull down on both her nipples, he came. Wave after wave of cum flooded her womb, the hot sticky liquid making her feel even more full. He pressed his body on top of hers, his hands not moving from her sore tits, as he allowed her vagina to milk the last drops of jism out of his cock. Allowing his cock to go limp inside her, he pulled out, leaving long strands of pinkish liquid between him and the girl, and went over to join Hasan and Greta.

  Greta marvelled at the sight of the girls. All of them seemed broken already. Olivia looked so full of horror hanging in her bondage, Holly was completely desolate, and Lucy looked exactly what she was, a proud woman who had lost so much self respect in such a short period of time. She admired the vivid red of both Holly’s tits and Lucy’s arse, mostly by her own hand. She couldn’t wait to play with her toys herself now they were a bit more pliable. But that had to wait. She had to let what had happened to them sink in.

  “Clean them up boys,” she said, almost cheerily, “I’ll be back down later. And it’ll be my time to have some fun.”

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not condone any of the actions depicted in this work. The actions depicted here are to be read only by those who recognise the moral and legal implications of these actions, and understand that this tale is purely fantasy. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or find it difficult to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

Author’s Note: I would like to ask for any feedback whatsoever, it would be much appreciated. Whatever it is, be it criticisms, praises, suggestions for the characters or plot, queries or requests I would be delighted to hear them. Enjoy.

 

   Greta’s shoes echoed on the stone floor as she walked slowly and purposefully down the stairs. She had showered, eaten and rested, and now was ready to continue. It had been only a couple of hours since she had been down in the basement, but she was already itching to get back and play with her new toys. And this time, she was going to have some fun. She liked to show as little emotion as possible at the beginning, but now she was going to enjoy herself. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed herself before, whipping those giant tits had given her so much pleasure. Watching Mehmet and Hasan brutally fuck the three girls had been equally satisfying. But things were about to be stepped up a notch. She had incredible discipline, and had managed to resist the urge to cum throughout the previous session, but it was finally time for her relief. She continued down the stairs, already knowing exactly what she was going to do.

  Olivia perked up as soon as she heard the rap of the heels on the floor, knowing exactly who was coming back. The poor girl could still scarcely believe what had happened to her and her friends in a space of just a few hours. However, despite having only been in the basement for a handful of hours, to Olivia it felt like years. She had been raped herself and had watched her friends raped and beaten, and for an innocent girl like her it had been a terrible time, and there was absolutely no sign of it stopping any time soon. Since Greta had left their ordeal had not ended. Hasan and Mehmet had wasted little time in carrying out Greta’s instructions. One at a time they had roughly taken the girl’s out to a room adjacent to the basement, starting with Holly. Mehmet quickly unhooked her arms and with one arm under her massive tits he carried her off. Ten minutes later the men returned with Holly, and hooked her back into the same position, before doing exactly the same with Lucy. Finally it was Olivia’s turn. Hasan and Mehmet brought her down to the floor, before undoing her complicated bondage, leaving just her wrists tied behind her back, and between them carrying her weak body off. Once inside, Olivia was greeted by a very bright light, which lit up a brilliant white room. On one side stood a steel lavatory, there was a hose coiled on one wall, and two bowls in one side of the room, one filled with water the other with a thick brown stew like dish, which looked suspiciously like dog food. Olivia already knew what she would have to do, but still waited to be prompted.

  “Hurry,” Hasan snapped, and gave the girl a small shove in the back.

Olivia staggered over to the steel toilet, and after staring at it for a moment, sat down. The metal was freezing on her bare skin, as she tried to do her business with the two men towering over her. Once she had finished, Hasan lifted her off the seat from under her arms and lifted her into the air, tying her wrists to a hook she hadn’t noticed hanging from the ceiling. Meanwhile, Mehmet had uncoiled the hose and held it out pointed at Olivia. The jet of water was powerful and freezing as it slammed into her chest, and Olivia tried to shriek through her gag. As Mehmet moved the stream of water up and down her hanging body, Hasan, carefully avoiding the jet of water, moved over her body with soap, spending particular time massaging her now wet tits with the soap. He moved his hand down and worked it into her pussy, washing away the physical evidence of her rape. Mehmet moved in and directed the jet of water at her genitals, cleaning both her pussy and her arsehole. Moving round he made sure to wash every inch of her body, so that she was ready for the next session. Having finished washing her he turned off the hose, the two men took the dripping girl down from the ceiling, and undid her gag. It was the first time Olivia had been free to talk in her entire time, but she knew there was no point.

  “Eat.”

  Olivia had not realised how hungry she was, and so immediately after being told, she did just that. Getting down onto her knees, and moved her face over the bowl of slop, and then went straight down and began to eat. It was yet another degrading experience, one of many in these few hours, and with many more to come. She was bent over eating like a dog in front of these men, with her arsehole on display as they stood behind her. It didn’t take her long to finish her meal, and once she’d drunk the water, and no sooner had she finished, then the two men had picked her up and carried her back into the room. Once again with frightening speed, the two men tied Olivia back into her hogtie, and quick as a flash, all three girls were washed and relieved, and tied back in place. Mehmet and Hasan then left, knowing they couldn’t do anything else to the girls until Greta got back, and turned out the light.

  It was like this, plunged into darkness and silence, that the girls were until Greta came down the stairs. Just as in the first time they had awoken in the basement, the girls could hear only the slowly encroaching sound of Greta’s heels on the stone floor, and they shuddered in anticipation at the horrors that awaited them. They could hear now that Greta had come up beside them, and a moment later the lights came up. Once again Greta stood, with Mehmet and Hasan just behind her, directly in front of Holly, with the other two to either side. Greta waited a moment, relishing the fear she could sense emanating from the girls, and then she spoke.

  “Hello again whores,” again with the same monotonous and terrifying voice, “I hope Mehmet and Hasan cleaned you up nicely. I enjoyed watching them fuck you girls earlier, but now I will have some fun. You will make me cum, and I will torture you. You will, English sluts, provide all three of us with much pleasure. So let’s begin. First, some fun with these.”

  Greta reached out and grabbed each of Holly’s nipples with her fingers. The swollen nubs had not recovered from the brutal assault earlier, and Holly winced in pain as Greta roughly twisted them once again. Holly wriggled once again as Greta’s long fingers once again squeezed and twisted Holly’s areolas, exciting her nipples until they were slightly erect. She turned round, and Hasan handed her a couple of small devices. Greta brought them up to Holly’s big round eyes so her captive could see what was about to happen to her. What Greta held were nipple clamps. The jaws were held centimetres from Holly’s face, so she could see the sharp, brutal looking teeth that were about to sink into her flesh. At the end of the clamp was a ring, and so these small devices looked menacing to the poor girl. Greta kept one clamp close to her face, whilst with the other hand she continued to massage her nipple to erection. When it was sufficiently hard, Greta brought the jaws down over the sensitive nub, and after teasing her for a moment, then allowed the teeth to bite into Holly’s tit.

Holly tried to squeal through her gag as the metal teeth of the clamp bit hard into her sensitive nipple. The jaws clamped onto her nub with ferocious force, the tips of each tooth imbedding itself in her flesh, though not breaking through her skin. Tears welled from her big doe eyes as she tried to deal with the intense pain that coursed through her from her nipple. Greta didn’t give her an opportunity to get used to it, taking her other nipple and clamping down the jaws of the clamp on the sensitive flesh. Once again Holly tried to squeal, as now both her tits screamed with the pain of the teeth. Greta took each clamp in her fingers and pulled down on them, relishing the whimpers her victim emitted. She tugged the clamps this way and that, pulling Holly’s huge tits around just by the nipples, and causing even more pain for the poor girl, and looking her in the eyes the whole time.  Once again she turned around and collected something from Hasan, and turned back to her toy. Giving her right nipple a tug, Greta took the weights that had just been handed to her and clipped them onto the clamps, before letting the tit fall. Holly once again squealed as her boob visibly lengthened as the weights pulled down on the nipple. Greta quickly did the same with the other nipple, until both of those luscious breasts had heavy weights hanging from them. To compound Holly’s pain, Greta gave her a quick push, so she swung slightly, and the weights on her breasts pulled down, making the girl’s pain worse and worse. Greta played with her tits for a few moments, yanking down on her nipples, knocking the melons from side to side and generally enjoying her pain.

“There you go, slut” Greta said to Holly, “those udders look much better now. I’ll be back to play with you later.”

  Greta now turned around and gestured to Mehmet who quickly set to work, whilst Greta took up a position further away. Mehmet moved over toward Olivia and unhooked her from the ceiling, easily carrying her womanly body to the floor, undoing her hogtie, leaving her wrists and ankles tied. He reached round to undo her ball gag, taking it out of her mouth, before dragging her, by her hair, toward Greta, kneeling her in front of her. Hasan emerged from the back of the room with a chair, and a strange stick device, which he handed to Greta. She sat down on the chair, and pushed her crotch so her cunt was about eye level with Olivia, who was currently staring at the floor. Greta waited a moment, then took the stick, pressed the end of it against the girl’s cute little nipple, and turned it on.

  The shock from the cattle prod coursed immediately through Olivia, throwing her back onto the floor. The contact was only for a split second but the explosion of pain continued, pulsing out from her nipple. Olivia’s body went through a quick spasm on the floor, drool running from her mouth as Mehmet bent down to right her, and supporting her whilst she regained the use of her legs. Olivia’s eyes stared straight at the prod, then moved over to her torturer.

  “Do as you’re told,” Greta snapped, “or you’ll get an even worse shock. Now beg to lick my cunt.”

  Olivia was still trying to recover from the shock, when she was hit by this. The pain from the prod had torn through her instantly, a pain worse than she had ever experienced. And now, whilst still trying to recover from the violent shock, and whilst her nipple still throbbed where the contact had been made, she had a job to do. Said so flatly and without emotion, it took a split second for Olivia to register what was being asked of her. The sheer vulgarity of the language used by Greta threw the young girl, as much as the act she was being asked to preform shock her. It was not something she had ever considered doing previously, but everything under these circumstances was different. She already knew she had no choice, that she would have to comply, but upon seeing Greta raise the prod again she didn’t hesitate.

  “Please,” Olivia began, pausing for a moment while she tried to come to terms with what she was about to say.

“Go on.”

  “Please let me…..l-l-l...l-l.”

“Spit it out bitch.”

  “P-p-please let me l-l-lick your c-c-cu-unt…”

As Olivia trailed off, thinking she had done what was asked of her, Greta moved quickly to raise the cattle prod to the girl’s other nipple and once again released a powerful electric shock. Once again Olivia was thrown to the floor, but this time Hasan gave her no chance to writhe on the floor and picked her still jerking body up immediately.

  “Address me appropriately, cunt.”

Olivia didn’t think she could take another shock, and so didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“Please let me lick your cunt, mistress.”

“You have my permission.”

Desperate to avoid further punishment, Olivia wasted little in time in attempting to appease her tormentor. Shuffling forward on her knees, she positioned her innocent face just centimetres from the woman’s crotch. Tentatively, Olivia pushed her tongue out of her mouth until the tip just rested on Greta’s lips. Slowly, Olivia moved it up and down, gradually allowing more and more of her tongue to touch the woman’s pussy. Greta lay back, savouring the sensation of the hot tongue on her cunt, but also to allow the girl to pleasure her all by herself. Olivia worked slowly, still trying to get used to what she was being forced to do. Although she had never done it before she was almost pleasantly surprised, for given Greta’s personality her sex was very clean, and so as the girl moved her tongue up and down faster and faster, it was not the horrendous experience she had initially envisaged.

  Greta, however, was becoming bored. The girl’s tentative forays onto her lips were dull and only mildly arousing, the girl’s nerves and inexperience manifesting as a lacklustre effort to stimulate her. More than that, she wanted this to be a bad experience for the girl, for her to suffer during it, and she was quite sure that wasn’t the case now. She signalled to Mehmet, who quickly disappeared into the back of the room. Then she pulled Olivia’s head up from her crotch.

  “Your attempts to please your mistress are insulting,” Greta snapped, anger seemingly present in her voice, “and so you must be punished. What Mehmet has here is an extremely hot chilli sauce. That may not sound very scary to you, but it is far too hot to be eaten safely, especially by you weak English girls. And this isn’t going in your mouth. Mehmet will shove a great big handful right up your cunt. It will burn. It will burn so much you will want to scream in pain. But you won’t. Instead you will lick me. You will make me cum. The quicker you do that, the quicker the pain in your pussy will be relieved. Do you understand?”

  Olivia nodded, tears streaming down her face.

“Answer properly.”

“Yes mistress…,” she sobbed.

“Now ask Mehmet nicely.”

Olivia could scarcely believe she had to beg to be tortured, but she knew that from what she had seen already that this was no joke. Looking over toward Mehmet, she could see him smearing a handful of the red mixture onto one gloved hand, and smiling as he did it. Swallowing yet more of her pride, Olivia accepted the inevitable.

“Please, master,” Olivia whispered, not quite sure what words to say next, “put the chilli on my vagina.”

“No, no, on your cunt.”

“P-p-please, master, put the chilli on my c-c-cunt.”

Mehmet obliged instantly, bending down with his gloved hand and quickly smearing the paste onto the girl’s sensitive lips. He worked his hand around, making sure to cover her entire pussy, working his hand up so he got as deep into her pussy as possible. Already Olivia could feel a tingling feeling over her pussy lips and with each passing second the sensation grew stronger and stronger. By the time Mehmet had finished working in the paste, the tingle had turned to a steady pain, and within a few more seconds it felt like her pussy was on fire. As the paste around her clit and inside her cunt began to take effect, and the burning sensation took on a new level of intensity, Olivia screamed in pain. Almost instantly Greta thrust her face deep into her cunt.

  Olivia was still trying to scream as she was thrust forward at Greta’s crotch. The pain in her own pussy was unbelievable; it felt quite literally that somebody had set fire to her sex. Wave after wave of burning pain shot through her body from her crotch, like nothing she had ever experienced before. All the while she knew that she needed to bring her mistress off in order to stop the searing pain, and so even through her screams she sought to pleasure her. Darting her tongue out much more frantically now, licking like a woman possessed. She moved her tongue up and down Greta’s pussy lips, darting it inside occasionally to try and find her clit, working slavishly to try to elicit a response. It didn’t take long before her work paid off, as soon Greta’s pussy was covered in a thin film of moisture. But that wasn’t what was on Olivia’s mind. Her hips were bucking desperately as she tried everything to alleviate the pain in her pussy, unable to spread her legs at all or reach around there was little she could do. All she could do to end the burning was to make her mistress cum.

Greta shut her eyes as she savoured her little slave’s efforts on her pussy. The frantic darting of her tongue over her sex was heaven, and coupled with the vibrations every time the girl screamed it was absolute ecstasy. Greta pushed her head as far into her cunt as it would go, trying to force the girl to penetrate as deeply as possible, only occasionally letting go to allow her a moment to breathe. With one hand firmly locked in her hair, the other moved down to the girls nipple, and with each scream from Olivia or dart with her tongue, Greta would pinch and tug o it, trying to cause as much pain as possible. For it was not merely the mechanical motion of Olivia’s mouth on her pussy that was bringing Greta off. Knowing that she was in a world of pain herself, that the burning sensation in her pussy was almost unbearable, was enough to make Greta wet all by itself. Coupled with the scenes of the rapes and whippings from earlier, and a quick glance at Holly’s pained face and clamped udders, Greta barely required Olivia’s attentions.

“That’s it whore, lick your mistress.”

As her pussy grew wetter and wetter, Greta began to thrust her hips forward into Olivia’s face, forcing her tongue even deeper. Olivia was licking furiously now, as if the pain in her crotch were directly driving her mouth’s movements. Greta continued to shower obscenities down on Olivia, calling her every name under the sun, but her senses were too overloaded to hear any of them. With each passing moment both women grew more animated, Olivia’s hips bucking wildly as her tongue worked frantically, Greta fucking the girl’s face with increasing force, as well as tugging harder and harder on Olivia’s sore nipple. The sucking and muffled screams that came from Greta’s cunt were soon being drowned out by the moans from Greta’s mouth, as she wrapped her legs tightly around Olivia’s head forcing the girl’s tongue ever deeper into her, and so her whole world was Greta’s cunt and the fire in her own.

  As her orgasm approached, Greta flung herself forward, sending Olivia spiralling back toward the floor and landing painfully on her wrists. After a moment to readjust, Greta was now straddling the girl’s face, bouncing her pussy up and down on the girl’s tongue, both hands reaching round to painfully abuse the girl’s nipples. Olivia could barely breathe as the woman’s full weight descended on her face, and her tongue worked feverishly as she tried desperately to bring the woman off and end her own torment. Greta’s pussy was so wet now that her juices were cascading over Olivia’s face, making breathing even more difficult. Greta lifted her cunt off the girl for just a second, allowing her to regain her breath, then plunged down for the final act. Bucking her hips frantically up and down on the girl’s face, and with her finger’s torturing the girl’s nipples, Greta moved to the edge of her orgasm. Pulling up with her hands to give Olivia as much pain in her tits as possible, Greta leaned back as her hips bucked wildly with the throes of her climax. She shrieked loudly, bellowing out a stream of German, as a stream of her juice squirted out all over Olivia’s face. Pushing her pussy down as hard as she could on the girl’s face, Greta acted out the final spasms of her climax on Olivia’s poor tortured nipples, pulling, twisting and pinching them with tremendous force, until when she finally released, the girls gorgeous full tits were topped by two very angry red marks.

  Even now that Greta had cum all over her face, Olivia’s torment had not ended. She was still finding it difficult to breathe, with the woman’s crotch pressed tightly over her mouth and nose. Her nipples were throbbing with pain, still not recovered from Mehmet’s assault, the shocking and then Greta’s brutality had turned her sweet little nipples into sensitive nubs of pain. But all this was nothing compared to the pain in her pussy. It had only grown stronger and stronger as she’d licked Greta’s cunt, and even now the ordeal was over her hips were still bucking frantically, although all this achieved was banging her arse cheeks against the stone floor. Her entire crotch was absolutely on fire, and now that she didn’t have Greta’s cunt in her face her screaming could resume as before. Her cries filled the room, drowning out the whimpers of Holly with her clamped nipples, and Greta’s panting. The German had hoped to make the girl thank her and beg to be relieved, but she could tell that was impossible. Quickly she signalled to the two men, who lifted the hysterical girl up off the floor and onto the heavy set wooden table. They sliced through the rope that held her ankles together and quickly, fighting against her instincts to lash out and relieve the pain, secured her legs to different legs of the table, displaying her red raw cunt. As Mehmet smeared another gloved hand with a soothing and cooling cream, Greta held up her hand and walked over to the girl’s face. She stared down at it for a moment, relishing the obvious and excruciating pain on her features, before clamping her hand down on her mouth, muffling her wailing.

  “For doing such a good job, whore,” Greta spoke loud enough for everybody in the room to hear, “I will reward you. You may choose which of your friends gets tortured next. I won’t tell you what it is; just that it will be tremendously painful. Only when you have chosen will you be relieved. So choose.”

  Olivia could only just hear what Greta was saying to her, and could only just about process it over the screams of her pussy and inside her head. Both her friends had already undergone terrible punishment, Lucy being raped anally and orally, as well as having her arse thrashed, whilst Holly had been whipped brutally across her breasts, which now had heavy clamps on them, whilst she had also had her virginity taken in the most obscene and brutal way possible. She couldn’t believe she would have to choose which of her best friends she would have to elect to receive whatever terrible punishment was next. And yet she already knew her decision. She knew one of the girl’s was stronger, and that whatever the torture was she would be more able to take it. Reluctantly, she looked up at Greta, signifying she had made her choice.

  “Since you are unable to talk, I will say the names of your fellow slaves, and you will nod your head. So, will it be Tits?”

  Olivia stared blankly at her torturer, still unable to comprehend exactly what was happening to them.

  “No? Well then it will have to be Whore?”

  Olivia closed her eyes as she nodded her head slowly, unable to look at either her captor or her friend.

  “Very well. I hope you enjoyed your reward. Now you may be relieved.”

With that Mehmet and Hasan applied the lotion to Olivia’s pussy. They worked as thoroughly as they had when applying the chilli in the first place, working it in to every nook and cranny, both around her clit and deep inside her pussy. Much like the original paste it took a while to work, but when it had started it worked quickly, and soon the relief washed over Olivia’s body like pure ecstasy. After a few minutes the burning in her pussy turned into a slight tingle, barely uncomfortable, and Olivia was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. Tears still slipped from her eyes onto her face, but the screams had stopped and just for a moment Olivia felt everything would be just fine. That was until she was awoken by a swift slap across her tits.

  “What do you say, bitch?”

  “T-t-thank you, m-m-masters.”

“And?”

“T-thank you, mistress.”

“Show your appreciation.”

Olivia turned to one side to see Greta’s still dripping pussy inches from her face. Without having to be told what to do, she stretched her head and shoulders over and gave the lips a little tender kiss, as if she were kissing a lover. It, more than being face fucked by the very same cunt, made her feel nauseous.

“There’s a good little whore,” Greta said, patting her on the head as she did it, “Now let’s get her stretched and gagged and move on.”

  Mehmet and Hasan worked quickly, not giving Olivia any chance to react. The two men undid her feet from their bondage and pulled them even further, stretching them so much that it hurt. Once again, they moved up to her hands, ignoring her whimpers for mercy, and stretched them obscenely as well, so she thought her shoulders would pop out of her sockets. She was then gagged, and for a moment left completely helpless. Then Greta suddenly turned round and looked at her.

  “Maybe it isn’t fair that this slave,” she pulled down on one of the clamps on Holly’s tits, “has some jewellery on her melons and that cunt has nothing. Clamp her.”

  Mehmet went immediately into the darkness, while Hasan went straight over and began massaging Olivia’s tortured nipples. Smaller than Holly’s, they were difficult to get erect, and so perhaps too satisfy his own lust as well, Hasan bent down to suck them, kneading her tit flesh as he did. Meanwhile Mehmet returned with an identical pair of vicious clamps, and as soon as Hasan had brought one cute little nipple to erection, clamped the sharp teeth onto it. He quickly repeated the process with her other tit, until both her nipples, atop her fulsome tits stretched against her body, were white from the vicious clamps. Hasan and Mehmet gave both a little wiggle to ensure they were firmly in position, as well as to torture Olivia some more, and then turned round to carry out Greta’s next instructions.

Whilst the two men had been affixing the clamps to Olivia’s boobs, Greta had been playing with Holly. She found nothing more satisfactory in the world than torturing these big titted babes, and she was going to very much enjoy doing it to this one. Indeed of all of these three girls, this was the one she wanted to feel the most pain. Luckily for her, she could already sense that Holly was the weakest of the three sluts, and so she would be able to easily carry out her will. While she wouldn’t let any of the girls feel left out, these udders would be bearing the brunt of her wrath. She tugged down on the girl’s nipples as these thoughts ran through her head, relishing the whimpers from her little whore mouth. She had said she was going to torture the slender whore first, but she just couldn’t resist hurting this one first. She gestured over to the men, who were almost immediately over to her.

  “Don’t worry Whore, don’t feel left out,” Greta spoke to Lucy, kicking her hard on her rump to make sure she was awake, “but Tits here is going to help us decide something.”

  Upon hearing this Hasan and Mehmet knew exactly what to do, and quickly moved to unhook her arms, still locked behind her back in her strappado, and Hasan held her against his body, his hands resting under her tits. For a time, the clamps were taken off of Holly’s tits, and there was a moment of relief as her nipples were free from the assault of the jaws. However, a split second later the blood began to flow back into her nipples, the pain came back almost as bad as before, and only Hasan’s tight grip around her chest kept her from writhing on to the floor. Mehmet turned round and took two modified clothes pegs, with a ring on the end just like the clamps, and waiting very little time, clipped the pegs onto Holly’s swollen nipples. Working typically quickly, Mehmet then tied a thin length of strong string to the rings on the pegs. Mehmet then took two more pegs, and with Holly’s curious doe eyes looking on both terrified and intrigued, he bent down at her cunt. With her legs still tied to prevent her from kicking out, Mehmet loosened the rope slightly so he could access her pussy. Taking a lip in one hand, Mehmet clamped the peg onto the soft sensitive flesh, drawing a tortured whimper from the girl. He repeated the procedure on her other lip, so that her pussy was slightly splayed, but more crucially her lips were pinched hard. With Hasan’s help, lifting Holly mostly by her tits, Mehmet passed the string over a beam that was suspended from the ceiling. Mehmet pulled hard on the string from the other side, in the process lifting Holly up by her nipples. Bending down, Mehmet then passed the string through the pegs on the girl’s pussy lips, and pulled them till they were just right, and tied them tightly. Once he’d done, both he and Hasan stepped back. Holly’s weight was now almost entirely supported by her tits and her cunt lips, with only the very tips of her toes touching the floor. Holly squealed as instantly the pain in her nipples grew worse, and it was accompanied by the new pain on her sex. Greta moved up to the newly bound girl, and pulled lightly on the string.

“Very nice,” Greta continued to play with her toy as she spoke, “just what these udders were meant for. Here’s the game whore. Whichever clothes peg falls off first, we will pierce you there. If when we’ve finished with your friend, all four are still attached, we shall spare you, for now. Though I think you’ll look good with some more permanent jewellery. Enjoy cunt.”

  Giving the string one more tug, and stealing one more glance at the girl’s giant stretched tits and her elongated pussy lips, and then moved over to Lucy. She walked around the bent over body of the young woman, running her long fingernails over her womanly back and arse. Moving back the other way, she moved right alongside her head, and yanked her up by her hair.

  “Now, it’s your turn,” Greta relished the venom with which she spoke, instilling the proud girl with fear, “and don’t worry, you won’t feel left out. Seen as your fellow slave chose you, we wouldn’t want to disappoint you. And seen as you are such a whore, I have something very appropriate for you. All you English girls love to fuck and cum, but your hedonistic ways end here. Prepare her.”

  Hasan moved over to Lucy and began to undo her bondage, whilst Mehmet moved into the background, obviously fetching another heinous device. Having undone her legs first, and the strap across her back, Hasan finally undid her arms and then pulled her up from under her armpits. Meanwhile, Mehmet had returned with the next torture device. It was another heavy set piece of wooden furniture, this time a mighty looking chair. As expected, it was resplendent with buckles and straps, obviously designed to hold the unfortunate victim tightly. There were a number of wires and clips that came off the chair, but the biggest feature was just below the seat. Connect by wires and what looked like a hydraulic mechanism, was a giant dildo, at least as thick as Hasan’s massive cock. It looked to be made of plastic, but it was hugely detailed, covered in fake veins. Just behind it was a smaller phallus, but still substantial, that made it clear what was about to happen. Lucy writhed frantically away from Hasan, but he was just too strong. Once Mehmet had positioned the chair directly between Olivia and Holly, he aided Hasan as they strapped Lucy to the chair.

  Lucy tried as best she could to struggle away from the two men, but they were far too powerful for her slender body. Handling her roughly, the two men slammed her down on the hard wood, and quickly set about securing her in place, with straps running round her wrists, her ankles, across her stomach, around her head and over her thighs. Strapped in she looked like she were going to the electric chair, a scenario that was not lost on Lucy. She continued to panic as Mehmet and Hasan adjusted the device under the seat, making sure to line it up with both her holes. Whilst Lucy couldn’t look down to see what they were doing, she could feel the gap in the wood underneath her two holes, both of which were exposed as her legs were spread to each of the legs. She felt the larger dick come into contact briefly with the lips of her pussy and flinched at the prospect of what was to come. Whilst Hasan was making just a few more minor adjustments, Mehmet positioned himself in front of Lucy, smiling at her the whole time as he brought two thin wires into her eye line. Showing her the crocodile clips at the end of each one, he slowly brought them down to her pert little tits, and clamped one onto each nipple. Lucy, the only one of the girls who hadn’t been clamped yet, yelped in pain, but any sound was muffled by her gag. Having finished setting the poor girl up for whatever ordeal lay in store, the two men backed away.

  Lucy could do nothing but look straight ahead. She had been tightly strapped to the chair in much the same places she had been strapped to the horse, her wrists and ankles were already sore, and so she was in pain just sitting there. Also sore before this had been her nipples, the pounding Hasan had given her arse had ground them into the wood. But now the pain was more intense. The jaws of the clips bit down into her tender flesh savagely, although she could not tell if they had broken the skin. What worried her more though were the wires emanating from them. Her arse cheeks throbbed from the beating they had taken, and the part of them that was against the wood hurt even more. But the part without any wood, the part that was exposed to those two giant cocks below, that was what worried Lucy. As this was running through her head, Lucy could see Greta move toward her. Her practiced strut toward the bound girl immediately instilled terror into her, and this was exactly the effect the German had hoped for.

  “Very nice,” Greta looked up and down at Lucy, seemingly pleased with what she saw, “very nice indeed. Now at first you might find this pleasurable, for you are such a little English whore. But trust me, soon you will not. Soon you will be in delicious agony. I hope you are sitting uncomfortably. Yes? Then we shall begin.”

  Lucy was perplexed and had no idea what was going on as Greta nodded to Hasan, who flicked a remote in his hand. Almost instantly the cock that was just touching her pussy lips arched violently upwards and buried itself in her cunt. Simultaneously, the smaller but not insignificant dick behind it pushed into her abused arsehole. Lucy had not time to adjust to the sensation of both her holes being filled though, as both of the cocks started to buzz frantically. Within seconds Lucy was lost, the pleasure emanating from her crotch almost overwhelming. Her whole body began to shake as the two cocks whirred inside her, her pussy lips already moistening, her hips trying to buck against them to no avail. Lucy tried to throw her head back but couldn’t, but for some reason she was oblivious of her situation, all she could feel was the buzzing of the dildos inside her, as she closed her eyes and bit down on the gag. With little over a minute gone, Lucy began to approach her climax. Moaning from behind her gag, Lucy could feel nothing but the pleasure of the violent vibration in her cunt and arse, and the onrushing climax of pleasure that was about to wash….

BBBUUUUZZZZZZ!!!!

  Lucy’s pleasure turned in an instant into pain. The sudden electric shock seemed to course through her entire body, from the clamps on her nipples through to her hands and feet, positioned on small electrodes that she hadn’t seen. The chair was so cunningly designed with wires and contact points so as to make sure the current bypassed any vital organs, but Lucy had no idea. The two cocks had whipped themselves out of her orifices immediately, but Lucy couldn’t even notice. She was convinced she was going to die, as her whole body went into spasm. Almost as quickly as it had ended, the shock stopped, and the two dicks were thrust back into her again. Once again a pleasure filled her crotch, but it was a pleasure tinged with pain, her whole body still screaming from the shock. Her natural instincts made her respond once again to the pleasurable sensations, but now her mind was almost certain what was to happen when she reached her climax once again. As much as she wished to resist it though, her body gave in, and soon she was right on the precipice of another fierce orgasm.

  Greta watched with glee as the second powerful shock ran through Lucy. Though she had found the first shock the most enjoyable, knowing as she did how surprised the girl would have been, she also knew that with each cycle the pain grew more intense. Each shock was of the same intensity but it had more effect each time, and also made the brief interludes of pleasure more and more painful. Greta couldn’t help but allow her fingers to drift down to her pussy as she saw the pain in the girl’s eyes after the third shock. She looked across at Holly, just to check how she was getting on. All four pegs were still in place for now, but Greta would make sure that wasn’t the case for long. She looked across at Olivia, who was still clearly suffering from the clamps on her nipples and the residual heat from her pussy. Everywhere Greta looked she could see a girl in pain at her own hand, and just the very thought of that almost brought her to climax.

  Meanwhile Lucy felt like she was going mad. Five times she had almost reached her climax; five times she had been rudely pulled out of it by a savage electric shock. Sweat cascaded off her body, her pussy was so wet it was dripping into a huge puddle on the floor. Once again the two cocks rammed themselves into her, and Lucy groaned as she knew what was coming. There was no pleasure any more, just pain as they buzzed viciously in her cunt and arse, and as much as she tried to resist, her body still responded. Once more she was taken to the very edge, and then came the inevitable shock. Each time the pain increased, and Lucy was pretty sure she couldn’t take any more without going insane. Her body was permanently shaking, her eyes were held wide open in sheer terror, not knowing when this was going to stop. As the dildos forced themselves back into her gaping holes, the tears rolled like waterfalls down her cheeks.

   Greta took another look at the suffering Lucy, and turned her attentions to Holly. She knew Lucy couldn’t take much more without going insane, and that would be useless, as it was no fun torturing a girl who had lost her mind. She knew that from experience. And so as she allowed Lucy just a couple more goes on her own electric chair, Greta moved over to Holly. The girl was clearly in pain. Her eyes were wide with the strain of trying to balance her weight perfectly between her tits and her pussy, her whole body shaking slightly from the effort it took. She had done rather well to go this long, but Greta had already decided what she wanted to do. She moved her hands over the girl’s back, feeling the muscles beneath the skin twitch with the exertion. Her hands continued, moving up her neck and onto her face, her touch as gentle as can be as she circled the girl. Finally she stood in front of her, and Holly couldn’t help but try to look at her, terrified as to what she might do.

  “You’re doing very well. Much better than your friend over there.”

  Greta gestured with her hand, and Holly’s eyes followed, flinching as she saw the pain etched on Lucy’s face. She did not know exactly what was happening to her, but to see her strong friend so reduced was crushing.

“But alas it is for nothing. You should know by now I don’t play fair. I want to hurt you, and I will. I’m sure by now you can guess where.”

  Greta leaned forward and stroked Holly’s right breast, and almost immediately Holly knew what was coming. Taking a moment to relish the look of realisation on the girl’s face, Greta took her hand back and brought it crashing into the soft flesh, just below the nipple. At once the clothes peg flew off, immediately followed by the one on the other nipple. Holly was sent to the floor, the clothes pegs still locked on her pussy lips, her hands still tied behind her back, her tits still aching all over, her nipples exploding with pain as the blood rushed back to them. Greta stood over her, and kicked her hard in the stomach. As Holly tried her best to double up and protect herself, Greta’s boot cannoned into her tits. Yet more tears streamed down Holly’s face, and Greta booted her boobs a few more times for good measure. Leaving the girl sobbing on the floor, the German went over to Lucy.

  “One more?” Hasan asked, knowing full well that Lucy was near the end of her tether.

  “Yes.”

Lucy was just reaching the climax of yet another orgasm, with no pleasure whatsoever this time, just pain. As she reached the crest and the shock cut in again, and Hasan flicked a switch. The shock continued, and the sheer agony had Lucy screaming as hard as she possibly could into her gag. But, fully expecting another two pronged assault from below, Lucy was relieved beyond measure to find that the machine had been cut off. Her body was still in spasm and dripping with sweat, and she had aches and pains all over, but at least that particular ordeal was over for now. It was only a couple of seconds after the machine had stopped that she realised her cunt was on fire, desperate for release, and so she tried desperately to bring herself off. But it was to no avail. There was a pool of her juices underneath the chair, and every part of her sex was throbbing, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“Horny slut,” laughed Mehmet.

“Look at all her juices, whore,” Hasan joined in, making Lucy feel even more worthless. Greta came up to her, once again getting right in her face, tugging on her nipple clamps to get her attention.

“You see, whore, this belongs to me,” she spat, her hand reaching down and roughly grabbing the girl’s cunt, just for a moment, “and only I decide when it can cum. Your days of whoring for pleasure are over. The only pleasure you get to have is that which you give us, or that we allow you to have.”

  Greta left Lucy in her chair, and gestured to the two men. Taking a quick look around the room, they knew instantly what they were being asked to do. Both went over to Olivia lying prone on the wooden table, and undid her bonds, carrying her into the middle of the room. Fixing her wrists behind her back, though leaving her legs free, they hooked her into the same position Holly had been in for so long, with her weight being held on her shoulders. Olivia had been in something of a daze since her ordeal, but this manhandling quickly woke her up, and the pain in her shoulders ensured she wouldn’t be dozing off again. Once she was in position, Mehmet took the weights that had been hanging from Holly’s nipple clamps and hooked them onto Olivia’s, stretching her beautiful breasts painfully. Now the two men turned their attentions toward Holly. She had hardly moved since she had been sent crashing to the floor by Greta, and she was picked up with ease. Hasan grabbed the girl’s legs, while Mehmet’s moved his hands under her arms, and of course, rested them underneath her tits. She was carried over to the table, and dropped onto it like a piece of meat. Mehmet took a knife and reached under her body, cutting the rope which held her arms, and then pulled them up to the top of the table, stretching her and securing her in place, the whole time staring at her bouncing, but still sore tits. Meanwhile, Hasan did the same with her legs, spreading them wide to display her newly penetrated pussy, and painfully stretching the girl as if she were on a rack. Mehmet couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the girl’s chest, her mounds still sticking up high even on her stretched, prone body, with only the tiniest hint of sag to the side. He gave them a swift but vicious slap, one on each globe, admiring the way they wobbled from side to side. Greta marched toward the table.

  “Fetch my kit,” she snapped as she looked down at her victim for the next few minutes. She too was mesmerised by Holly’s tits, so pert despite their size, though with her the main emotion was one of anger. Without seeming to expend any effort at all, Greta got onto the table, and straddled Holly across her stomach, looking directly into her eyes. Holly was terrified, not knowing for sure what was going to happen next, though she had heard it a couple of times. She looked into the woman’s piercing eyes, the lack of emotion even scarier. Greta almost smiled at her, before bringing her open right hand down hard on her right breast. Holly had been expecting it, but the savagery of the blow on her tender globes was still exceptionally painful. More followed, the slaps echoing around the room, as Mehmet and Hasan, who was carrying a small leather bag, looked on. Having delivered five blows to each breast, Greta turned her attention to the abused nubs that topped them, twisting pulling and pinching them painfully whilst Holly squirmed underneath. After just a couple of minutes, Greta paused for a moment, looking down at Holly’s big pleading eyes. She then bent over slightly, squeezing Holly’s tits together, before taking one of her sore nipples into her mouth. Tenderly she began to suck it, using her teeth lightly against it to stimulate the sensitive nub. Soon the nipple was standing to attention, against the wishes of its owner, and Greta moved across to the other tit, sucking that nipple hard as well. Moving back up again, Greta rolled both nipples between her fingers, keeping them hard, while she looked across at Hasan.

  Hasan brought up the leather bag and placed it down on the table. He opened it out, for it was similar to one a doctor or butcher might carry their tools in, and showed it to Greta. Holly leaned across hoping to get a glimpse of what was in there, but both her tits and Greta got in the way. Greta reached down and took a long thin needle, and two silver rings in her hands, before turning back and looking Holly right in the eyes, smiling at the pain she was going to inflict on her. She brought the needle up so that Holly could see it, and her reaction was immediate. Frantically she moved from side to side, desperate to shake Greta off and stop what she was going to do, but her bonds were too tight, and all she succeeded in doing was wiggling her body slightly. Gleefully Greta brought the needle to Holly’s right nipple, toying with the nub slightly as she drank in the fear in the girl’s big eyes.

“Stay still cunt, or this will hurt a lot more.

  Greta grabbed hold of Holly’s right tit so her nipple was pointing straight up, and then pushed the needle through it slowly, increasing the pain as she moved it forward painfully slow. Holly wailed into her gag as Greta pierced her flesh, quickly and skilfully pushing the metal all the way through and quickly replacing it with a small ring. Greta gave her no time to get used to her new jewellery, and roughly clamped her hand on the other globe. Once again the German passed the needle through the poor girl’s nipple, and quick as a flash inserted another metal ring. Greta leaned back slightly and admired her handiwork, those luscious mounds topped by two shiny silver rings. She tugged hard on them, enjoying the tears running down her slave’s face as her newly pierced tits were abused further. After abusing her tits for a good five minutes, twisting pulling and squeezing them brutally as she savoured the look of anguish on Holly’s face, Greta suddenly stopped and stood up on the table. Reaching up to the ceiling, she pulled down two thin wires with little hooks attached, and brought them down to Holly’s chest. Carefully she clipped each one onto one of the rings, then released slowly. The wires, on little pulleys, moved back up toward the ceiling, stretching Holly’s tits up by the nipples. Whilst there was no danger of the rings tearing through her nipples, Greta had made sure of that, her globes were now painfully stretched into a sort of cone shape. Greta admired her handiwork for a moment then signalled to Mehmet and Hasan.

  The two men sprang into action. Mehmet disappeared into the back of the room, while Hasan walked over to where Lucy still sat in her chair, still desperately trying to get herself off. Hasan smiled as her undid first the clamps from her nipples, then each of her bonds in turn, before finally undoing those that held her wrists. Once he had untied her he took hold of her wrists and dragged her over to the table before forcing her onto her knees, keeping her wrists firmly in his grasp. Meanwhile Mehmet emerged from the darkness, and Holly looked over to see what implement was going to be used to torture her next. She winced when she saw. Mehmet held in his hands a long thin cane, a short paddle, and a huge strap on. Holly panicked, but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop whatever they had in mind. Greta seemed to ignore Mehmet’s delivery, and walked straight over to Lucy.

  “Look at me,” Greta snapped, and when Lucy didn’t respond immediately she slapped her hard across the face, the sound echoing around the room. Lucy immediately looked up at Greta, her eyes immediately filled with tears, her hips still gyrating fruitlessly.

  “I see you’re still horny, whore,” Greta continued, “Well maybe if you’re good we can do something about that. If you do exactly what I say, exactly, then you will have your release. And if you try to relieve yourself before time, you know the consequences.”

  Greta forced Lucy’s head round so she was looking at Olivia, whom Mehmet had moved over to and now held his knife in the familiar position by her nipple, ready to slice it off at a moments notice. Lucy gulped, knowing how hard it would be for her to resist touching herself, yet knowing she must. Greta stared at her, then nodded at Hasan, who reached down with one hand and unclipped Lucy’s gag. Lucy took a second to acclimatise, before looking straight back up at Greta.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes mistress.”

  “Good, follow me.”

Greta moved round to where Mehmet had laid down the toys, and picked up the long thin cane. She brought it swishing through the air a few times, making sure everyone, including Holly, knew what was about to happen. She brought it to Holly’s upright breasts, brushing it up and down her soft flesh so she was in no doubt of the pain she was in store for. Greta clicked her fingers toward Lucy, who shuffled toward her on her knees obediently. Once there, Greta positioned the girl between her and the table, making sure she was staring directly into her crotch.

  “Now whore, you will lick my cunt while I thrash your friends udders.”

  Greta looked down at Lucy, who stared up at her wide eyed, before doing what she knew she had to do. Like Olivia she had never done it before, but she knew there would be so many firsts down in this basement that she simply got on with it. Not wasting any time she pressed her tongue against Greta’s pussy, her lips still slightly open and moist from Olivia’s attention. As soon as she felt Lucy was getting on well with her task, Greta brought the cane swinging through the air and straight into Holly’s tits.

  The sound of the wood on soft flesh echoed loudly around the room. As soon as it made contact a long red stripe emerged on Holly’s abused mounds. To go with the crack of the cane, a muffled tortured scream rang out from Holly’s mouth. Lucy heard what was going on, and felt such shame that she was pleasuring this woman as she tortured her friend, but she knew she had no choice. Greta smiled as she brought the cane down once more on Holly. She had two beautiful girls with her now, one taking the full force of her sadistic pleasures, the other tonguing her pussy. She thought for a moment of having Olivia over so all three were pleasuring her, but she decided to leave that for another day. As she brought the cane down once more, Greta allowed herself a slight groan of pleasure as Lucy’s tongue worked surprisingly skilfully on her already moist sex.

  Lucy tried her best to ignore what was happening above her as she focused entirely on Greta’s cunt, hoping that by making her cum she could end her friend’s suffering and hopefully receive permission to cum herself. Her sex was still throbbing with desire and her hips were gyrating involuntarily, but she knew the last thing she could do was to touch herself. Instead, whilst the sounds of the cane thrashing Holly’s chest again and again rang out around the room, Lucy used every trick she could think of to pleasure Greta. She ran her tongue up and down the outer lips, buried it inside, sucked the woman’s clit into her mouth. Whatever she could think of she did in a desperate attempt to end this nightmare. As she worked she felt Greta’s free hand, the one that wasn’t horribly thrashing Holly’s tits, move to the back of head and slowly force her deeper and deeper into her cunt. Allied with this, Greta began to thrust her hips into Lucy’s face as the pleasure began to build.

  Meanwhile Mehmet was having his own fun. Standing next to Olivia in case of Lucy’s disobedience he decided it was a little unfair for her to be left out, and so decided to hurt her as well. He pulled back on her hair so that she was looking straight into his eyes and began to slap her perfect perky tits with his free hand, first softly and the progressively harder, until the sound of his hand crashing into her was just about audible, even with the cane. Greta looked over at Mehmet to see what was happening, and smiled as she watched him abuse her slave. She had definitely taught him well. As well as slapping her tits, Mehmet also played with Olivia’s clamped nipples, pulling and tugging on each one alternately, all the time making sure she was looking directly into his eyes.

  This went on for several minutes, each girl being tortured in a different way, sounds of slaps, cracks and muffled screams ringing around the room. Soon Greta’s juices were flowing freely, and she decided it was time to move to the next stage. Abruptly she stopped thrashing Holly, tossed the cane to Hasan, and dragged Lucy up by her hair till she was at eye level. She dragged her away a few paces, just as Hasan continued with the cane torture. Once she was far enough away, Greta whispered menacingly in Lucy’s ear.

“Now if you wish to be relieved you must continue to obey me. Now it is you who will torture Tits. You will be given a strap on, with which you will fuck her cunt. You will also be given a paddle, with which you will beat her tits. You will not say a word to her. You will not mouth a word to her. You will remain stone faced. She will be licking my cunt, but I will be watching your actions carefully. If you cum before I allow it, Blondie loses a nipple. If you do not beat those tits enthusiastically, Blondie loses a nipple. You have seen how we have tortured you. Now you will do the same. Understood?”

  Lucy was stunned and shaken, but her answer was immediate.

  “Yes mistress.”

The two women walked back to the table, where Hasan had just dropped the cane and fetched the rest of the equipment. Tears welled up in Lucy’s eyes as she saw Holly. The underside of her tits were now a vibrant red, covered with streaks all across them, in some places almost drawing blood. Lucy was sick at the idea she would have to cause her more pain. But she would. Hasan moved over to her and quickly attached the strap on, fitting it tightly over her cunt. It was only now it was on her that she could see how big and thick it was, and she felt even sicker. Hasan handed her the paddle, which she took grudgingly, and then moved over to untie Holly’s legs. She lay still even without the bonds, too scared even to move. Hasan also undid the belt across her stomach, meaning her whole bottom half could be manoeuvred into any position. He next moved to her tits and unhooked the pieces of wire, which shot upwards, and her breasts fell back into their gorgeous natural position. Finally Hasan moved to her head, and with one finger on his lips telling her to stay quiet, he undid her gag. Holly remained quite, all too aware that any sound she made would only worsen her plight. Greta gestured to Lucy.

  It was all Lucy could do not to burst into tears, or to shout her apologies to Holly. But she knew she mustn’t. She approached the table slowly, only delaying the inevitable. The room was strangely silent, even Mehmet had stopped toying with Olivia to watch the show. As she neared the table Hasan patted it, signalling her to get onto it. This Lucy did. She was on her knees between Holly’s legs, the tip of the dildo swinging slightly to and fro. She looked at Holly’s face, and Holly looked back. With Hasan watching her closely she knew she could not even mouth what she wanted to say, but with her eyes she tried to convey how sorry she was. As she edged closer, Hasan grabbed Holly’s legs and lifted them into the air. When Lucy was close enough that the dildo was just inches away, Hasan rested Holly’s legs on Lucy’s shoulders, and gestured to Lucy to get on with it. Lucy obeyed. She shuffled forward quickly so that the dildo rested at the entrance to Holly’s pussy, and taking one look at Greta, she looked down into Holly’s eyes she pushed forward.

  Holly groaned as the long thick shaft of the dildo pushed into her tight cunt. It was slow going, for though she was no longer a virgin her vagina was still exceedingly tight, and gripped the plastic of the strap on like a vice. Lucy knew she had no choice but to bury it as far as it could go, so she leaned forward and forced it in, inevitably hurting Holly in the process. It wasn’t long before she realised it could go no further. She was now leaning over Holly, bending her legs back on her, the paddle in one hand. Lucy’s hips pulled back, drawing the shaft of the dildo out, before pushing back in again slowly. Steadily Lucy began to thrust in and out of Holly, trying to cause as little pain as possible. Greta walked up to the table, and stared menacingly at Lucy, showing her displeasure. Lucy gulped, knowing that the time was now, and she raised her right hand.

  The sound of the paddle crashing into Holly’s breast sickened Lucy to her very core, though not as much as the cry of pain her friend, no longer inhibited by the gag, let out. What made it worse was that she knew she would have to do it again. Pulling the strap on out as far as she could, so just the tip remained inside, Lucy’s next strike was accompanied by a hard thrust. The cry was even louder this time, but Lucy knew she could not stop. This time she moved her hand over to Holly’s left breast, and with her next thrust brought the paddle down hard right on her newly pierced nipple. Holly’s scream was piercing as her incredibly sore tits received yet more torture. Lucy though didn’t stop. The pace of her thrusts began to increase steadily, as did the frequency of her blows with the paddle. She remained oblivious to Holly’s screams, even when she begged for Lucy to stop, for she knew she had no choice. All her anger at the situation, every bit of hate she held for Greta and her two assistants, she poured into her assault on Holly. Before long she was pounding in and out of her friend’s pussy, and raining down blows on her sensitive tits with a ferocity that took even Greta by surprise.

  Holly screamed at the top of her voice as the paddle struck onto her sore left nipple. The pain she had endured over the last hours had been dreadful, especially the abuse to her tits, but as her best friend brought the paddle down on her much abused chest she was brought into a new world of pain. She looked up at her friend as another blow came crashing down and her pussy received another pounding. Lucy stared down into her eyes, and Holly was shocked by the maliciousness in her face, and the viciousness of her blows and thrusts. She had initially assumed Lucy was being told to hurt her, but now it seemed as if her friend wanted to torture and abuse her. Through the physical pain, the emotional pain as she watched her friend seemingly revel in her suffering. She had no idea how much this was hurting Lucy, to be the one inflicting this on her best friend. But to Holly each strike on her sensitive globes was just as much a blow to her heart.

  Now Lucy had taken to her task so well, Greta decided she could finish herself off on her toy’s face. She walked round to Holly’s head and moved her hands either side of her innocent face. Holly looked up to see Greta’s smiling face looking down, obviously thoroughly enjoying both girl’s suffering. Having drunk in the sounds of Holly’s whimpers, she had lost the energy to scream, Greta moved effortlessly onto the table and without warning forced her cunt right into Holly’s face. Whilst grinding her pussy into her face Greta looked up and winked at Lucy, as if both of them were enjoying the rape and torture of her friend. Holly could barely breathe as her mouth and nose were covered by Greta’s cunt. Holly kept squealing as Lucy continued to pound into her pussy and beat her tits, but she didn’t lick or do anything to bring Greta off.

“Whore,” Greta spoke to Lucy as if they were on the same side, “tell Tits to lick her mistresses cunt.”

  Lucy couldn’t believe what she was going to have to say to Holly, for she knew from the look she had seen in Holly’s eyes that she thought it was for real. And yet to save all of them, she would have to obey. She stopped fucking her for a moment, and reached down with her left hand to twist Holly’s sensitive nipple, trying to get her attention.

  “Tits,” Lucy almost gagged on the words as they came out, “lick you mistress’ cunt.”

Holly couldn’t believe her ears. Lucy had twisted her sore nipple, called her Tits, and then commanded her to lick the pussy of a woman who had been torturing her for hours. Tears streamed down her face at the ultimate betrayal of her friend, but she knew she had no choice. Must like Lucy had to do as she was told to save herself and her friends, so Holly now began to lap her tongue against Greta’s dripping lips. Whilst she had none of the skill Lucy had shown, the fact Greta sat atop her allowed her to grind into her face, and so it wasn’t long before waves of pleasure began to course through her. She signalled to Lucy, who began to fuck again, but as her hand was raised to bring the paddle down again Greta stopped her, asking for the paddle herself. Lucy handed it over, slightly relieved that she would not longer have to beat her friend. However, it meant the paddle was now in the hands of a sadist, and a sadist that loved torturing Holly.

  As Greta grinded her pussy into Holly’s face, she wielded the paddle menacingly, before predictably bringing it crashing into Holly’s flesh. She beat Holly’s tit mercilessly, not pausing for even a second, whilst with her other she pulled and twister her newly pierced nipple. Her cunt juices mixed with Holly’s tears as Greta got closer and closer toward her climax. She ground her pussy into Holly’s face as if she were trying to force it down her throat, and if it were possible the speed and violence of her assault on those delicious mounds intensified. Lucy looked on in amazement as Greta’s whole body began to shake with the waves of pleasure that coursed through her. Greta dropped the paddle as both her hands squeezed Holly’s tits as hard as they possibly could, while her juices visibly cascaded down the poor girl’s face, threatening to drown her. She let out a huge shriek of pleasure, filling the room with the sound of her climax. After what seemed like an age the climax subsided and Greta slowly released Holly’s breasts from her vice like grip, and shuffled back to allow Holly to breathe properly. Holly spluttered as she desperately filled her lungs with air. Greta stepped off the table and put her hands either side of Holly’s face, bent down and shoved her tongue into her mouth. The invasion of her tongue into Holly’s mouth was a perfect metaphor for the whole situation the girl’s found themselves in. Greta then stood back up and looked into Holly’s pleading doe like eyes.

  “What do you say cunt?”

For a moment Holly had no idea what she meant, and she was filled with panic as she feared the backlash. Then it popped into her head, the thing Lucy and Olivia had been forced to say following each of their terrible tortures. Quickly Holly prepared herself, ready to utter the first words she’d said during this whole ordeal.

  “T-t-than-an-n-k y-y-you, m-m-miss-tr-tress.”

“Properly Tits.”

“Thank you mistress.”

“Now, lick her.”

  Greta pointed at Lucy, who was still crouching with the dildo inside Holly’s pussy, having stopped fucking as soon as Greta had begun her spectacular climax. The shame of what she had had to do to her friend had somewhat distracted her from how horny she was. Suddenly it all came flooding back, and as Hasan moved round to undo the strap on her hips began to gyrate again. Lucy knew she had no choice, that the only way she could get herself off, as well as hopefully end Holly’s suffering. Slowly she edged over Holly’s body, carefully putting her legs back down, before inching up her torso toward her friend’s face. Once her knees were either side of Holly’s face, Lucy slowly lowered her pussy toward Holly’s mouth, still taking care not to show any emotion which might get them even more hurt. She looked down into Holly’s eyes as her pussy lips came into contact with her lips, and she felt sickened at the shame written all over her friends face as she flicked her tongue out. Holly reluctantly but obediently ran her tongue over Lucy’s moist cunt, struggling to believe what she was doing. And as uncomfortable as Lucy felt having her pussy licked by her best friend, she began to let her primal desires get the better of her, and as her juices dripped down onto Holly’s face her hips began to gyrate, and she began to emit a low moan. Steadily Lucy’s hips began to move down until she was virtually grinding on Holly’s face, lost in her own world of pleasure. She could feel the waves of climax building up, about to wash over her whole body. Then suddenly she realised what she had to do, and looked up at Greta who was stood staring at her. It took a moment for Lucy to realise what was expected of her.

  “Please mistress,” she began, still desperate to relieve herself, “may I cum?”

  “Beg.”

“Please mistress, please please may I cum?”

“Yes whore, you may cum.”

“Thank you mistress.”

  With that Lucy grinded down hard on Holly’s face and came instantly. It had been building for so long that when it came it was the most intense orgasm Lucy had ever had, as once again Holly’s face was covered in pussy juice once again. Lucy shook as wave after wave of unbelievable pleasure washed over her, her cunt grinding into Holly’s face. It seemed to last forever, despite being only thirty seconds, but as it subsided Lucy looked down at her friend and was filled with shame as she saw her juices cascading down her face. She stared at the misery she had caused Holly and knew that if they ever go out of this predicament their friendship would never be the same again. She didn’t have long to mull over what had happened though, as Greta quickly snapped her back to the present.

“What do you say whore?”

“Thank you mistress.”

“Thank you for what?

“For letting me cum mistress.”

“Good whore,” Greta said, before looking back down at Holly, “and what do you say?”

Holly was unsure what she was supposed to be saying, but she knew it would be something degrading that she would have to grovel and say thank you for.

“Thank you mistress.”

“Thank me for your tit rings,” Greta was loving the degradation she was putting her through.

“Thank you mistress,” Holly said through a veil of yet more tears, and then as she looked up and saw Greta obviously waiting for more, “for my….tit rings.”

  Greta smiled and stroked Holly’s damp hair patronisingly, before turning to Hasan and nodding. Hasan moved toward Lucy and lifted her off Holly’s prone figure, and set her down on the floor, holding her hands tightly behind her back. Quickly he tied a rope quickly around her wrists, making sure it was tight, and then threaded the loose end of the rope between Lucy’s legs. Greta walked over to where she stood, and looked her up and down.

   “Very impressive whore. I see you’re learning well. Tonight you will stay elsewhere, with Hasan and Mehmet keeping you company. Take her.”

  Hasan led a very confused and apprehensive Lucy up the stairs by the rope end, walking quickly enough that Lucy struggled to keep up. The sounds of their footsteps on the stone steps slowly died down, and on hearing the door at the top slam shut Greta sprang into action.

  “Truss these whores up Mehmet.”

  Mehmet wasted no time upon hearing his orders. He quickly unhooked Olivia’s arms from her strappado position and with his arms hooked just under her breasts he brought her over to the table. Almost effortlessly he lifted her up and on top of Holly. Before she could make any sort of adjustment he manoeuvred her so that her face was right over Holly’s pussy, took the gag out of her mouth then pushed her head down. Olivia’s mouth was now being forced directly on to Holly’s pussy, her nose just centimetres away from her arsehole. Mehmet took another of the straps on the table, and put it around Olivia’s head, preventing her from moving away. He next moved up toward Holly’s head, and forced Olivia’s pussy into Holly’s slick face, and took another strap and secured it in place. He stepped back and smirked, looking at the two beautiful girls secured in a 69 position, as they would be the entire night.

  Greta gave Olivia a firm slap on the arse, and then turned around and started up the stairs, with Mehmet in tow. Holly and Olivia could do nothing as the footsteps slowly petered out, and then with the shut of the door, they were plunged into darkness.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not condone any of the actions depicted in this work. The actions depicted here are to be read only by those who recognise the moral and legal implications of these actions, and understand that this tale is purely fantasy. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or find it difficult to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

Author’s Note: I would like to ask for any feedback whatsoever, it would be much appreciated. Whatever it is, be it criticisms, praises, suggestions for the characters or plot, queries or requests I would be delighted to hear them. Enjoy.

Editing Credits: D.M

Quickly dragging Lucy up the stairs to a large oak door, Hasan held the rope in one hand and pressed his thumb to a brick in the archway.  With a click, the huge wooden door slowly opened and Hasan moved through, tugging the rope sharply and making a fear-filled Lucy half-run to keep up.  As they moved through a long corridor, dim orange lights in medieval style sconces flicked on, until they came to a large door flanked by two smaller ones.  Hasan again placed his thumb against a seemingly innocuous stone in the wall and, with a click, the small left door opened.

Inside a solitary light bulb swung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the dank room.  In one corner was a solitary blanket on the cold stone floor, in the other a metal bucket.  One wall had a large mirror and an alarm clock.  Lucy looked into the room and then at Hasan who placed his hand in the small of her back and pushed her sprawling onto the floor.  He then moved to the other room across the hallway, and came back with a long thick dildo.    “You are lucky, girl” Hasan hissed, leaning through the door, “you will sleep here free while your friends are tied up.  But you have job to do.  Every hour you must fuck yourself.  In front of the mirror.  You use this.”  tossing the dildo in front of Lucy.  “But very important, you cannot cum.  You must get right to edge but stop before you cum.  We will watch you.  Every hour, remember.  I show you how.  Pick it up.”

He came through the door and stood, waiting, while the still prone Lucy was wondering how she could pick it up with her hands tied behind her back.  She stared up at him, his horse-like cock at half mast in her eye line, and shuffled onto her knees.  Her eyes moved to the giant phallus on the floor.  Suddenly she realised what she had to do and was disgusted by how low they wanted her to sink.  Slowly she bent and, with some difficulty, grasped the thick shaft of the black rubber cock in her teeth.  Once secure, she offered it up to Hasan.

“Good girl,” Hasan said, pairing the patronising compliment with a pat on the head, just as he would a dog.  Then, kneeling behind her, he grabbed a chunk of her hair and twisted her face to the mirror.  Lucy now saw herself for the first time.  The hand pulling her hair moved to delicately brush her hair behind her ears so she could see clearly.  Her hair was a mess, she noted absently, her face was the same but her eyes lacked life.  She brooded over the totally different person looking back at her.  Then her assailant’s handsome face loomed over her right shoulder while his left hand reached round and put the massive dildo up to her pussy lips, still open from her recent orgasm, guiding the monster into Lucy’s hole.  She moaned slightly as the cold tip of the phallus passed through her lips and into her vagina, part in pleasure and part in helpless shame that she couldn’t stop being abused yet again.  Using one hand to slowly inch the shaft into her cunt, Hasan ran the other up her torso to grip a pert tit and whispered in her ear.

“Fuck yourself, bitch.”

The contradiction between his gentle touch and harsh order momentarily shocked Lucy, but she quickly recovered, remembering how cruelly he had raped her arse and mouth.  With his right hand securing the dildo in place, she spread her legs and slowly slid down the veined rubber till her pussy was so full that even Hasan knew it couldn’t go any further.  Then, as his hand continued to softly maul her breast, she used her strong thighs to push herself up the shaft  before sliding down again. 

Hasan smiled as he watched Lucy in the mirror strain herself to get up and down the shaft, his fingers toying with her nipple to make it hard.  The grimace of pain on her face from her exertions was softening with pleasure, the friction of the black cock irresistible despite her humiliation at how she was forced to use it.  As the heat built inside her, she felt Hasan’s other hand massaging her tit, her nipple still sore from being clamped in that terrible chair.  Though the strain of pushing herself up and down burnt her thighs, she continued, her pace even slightly increasing as Hasan’s hot breath on the back of her neck and the throbbing cock she felt pressing into her arse cheeks, drove her toward another orgasm.  She was close and began moaning louder with each penetration until her juices coated the dildo’s shaft, praying he would let her finish before he left.

Hasan could see she was on the verge of climax but waited a little, watching her face when she was so close to cumming.  She really was incredibly beautiful and before he met Greta, he would have tried to fuck her legally and with her consent.  But he knew his job and he wasn’t going to let any passing fancy for this whore get in the way.  Abruptly the hand massaging her left breast squeezed and twisted her nipple hard as his right hand whipped the cock from her aching pussy.  Lucy desperately stretched forward to finish herself off but Hasan kept it well out of reach.  The unfulfilled look on her whorish face proved he had perfectly timed his exit, her hips still bucking as she searched for that climax.  He waited until she had calmed down before untying her hands and stood up, leaving her crumpled in a heap on the floor.

“Remember,” he said, watching her hands move towards her pussy, “you cannot cum.  If you cum, we kill one of your friends.  See you tomorrow, whore.”

With that, he shut the door, leaving Lucy lying in the bulb’s dim light.  Her eyes had opened wide when he said he would kill her friends.  As terrible as it had been, the magnitude of her situation kept getting ratcheted up, this just the latest of a steady stream of shocks in this terrible ordeal.  She looked around and realised that all she had was a blanket to sleep under and a bucket.  Crawling to the corner, she wrapped herself in the blanket, the first time she had been covered in hours.  Finally alone with her thoughts, Lucy thought about what she had done with Holly so many long minutes before.  She knew she had had no choice but to obey, but it had still broken her heart as she pounded in and out of her friend, each time crashing the paddle onto Holly’s chest.  A crushing hopelessness filled her.  The long corridor, the sophisticated gadgetry and practiced moves of these people indicated a serious intent.  Both she and her friends were in deep trouble.  She looked at the dildo in front of her and then to the alarm clock.  It had no hour hand but the minute hand showed another half hour until she had to humiliate herself for their pleasure.  She felt at a complete and utter loss, her pride now reduced to nothing.  But, having realised that, with characteristic strength, she just curled up in the blanket and closed her eyes.

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He almost cried as the woman in the sharp black suit told him, sternly and with little compassion, that he no longer had a job at the bank.  She’d tried to be compassionate, although she suspected she hadn’t convinced him.  After detailing his severance package, she apologised, shook his hand and invited him to leave.  After he left, she sank into her chair and looked over the monthly accounts, checking for any glaring discrepancies.  Though nominally the bank’s chairperson, she really only came in when it suited her.  Today was just such a day, for she felt having her face seen would be useful even if she was sure she was under no suspicion.  In truth, her mind was elsewhere.

Greta’s thoughts were focused on the three young women she had in her basement.  Flicking her mouse, she brought up the news article she had been reading where those same girls stared at her, their beautiful faces accompanying the latest news of the investigation to find them.  As she read what their family and friends in England said of them, she smiled and her hand drifted to her crotch.   Continuing to browse, she not only relished the pain she had and would cause but sought to track the investigation whose last information was that they were in a bar.  But neither Mehmet or Hasan were mentioned.  She would send Hasan to his bar job that evening to give a statement to any police sniffing around.  Avoiding suspicion required keeping up normal appearances.  In time, she could muddy the investigation, updating social networking sites, sending text messages and the like.  But it was too risky just now and she was too preoccupied with the best part of her job, breaking in the fresh talent.  In truth they were desperately needed.  Her stock was becoming stale and she knew her clients would soon think the same.  Her employees hadn’t been pulling their weight either, having not procured anything decent since those Czech bitches three months ago.  It had all been a bit depressing and these new additions had breathed fresh life into her.  So, since she wouldn’t be picked up for another hour, Greta looked at the computer screen and settled down to enjoy herself.

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Olivia woke from what could barely be described as sleep, her face still buried in Holly’s pussy.  She had no idea how long they had been bound like this because she had been constantly slipping in and out of consciousness but it had surely been hours.  They’d tried to talk as soon as they were alone but it had not worked.  Her face had been forced so deep into Holly’s sex that all she could do was move her tongue against her lips.  A similar response from Holly had created muffled sounds not resembling speech at all.  So they remained silent, their bodies stretched tight along the table.  Olivia tried to sleep but it was impossible not to remember the scenes of the previous hours.  Her nipples were still sore from the clamps that had bitten down on them, her pussy was still sore from her chilli torture, and her whole body ached from every blow inflicted during her ordeal.  Since they had lined her up on Holly despite her shorter frame, her body, arms and legs were stretched tight.  And with each passing hour, the pain grew greater and greater.

But whatever Olivia’s pain, Holly’s was worse.  She too was stretched on the table, her arms and legs pulled to their limit.  She too was sore all over from her captors’ tormenting handling.  But the main source of pain were her breasts which felt sore enough to fall off.  Her nipples throbbed with pain, the silver rings pressed into Olivia’s body causing her exquisite agony.  With every subtle movement of either of their bodies, an explosion of pain coursed through Holly’s globes.  It wasn’t just her nipples either, for the entire surface of her breasts had been beaten so hard that just the pressure of Olivia’s body caused terrible pain.  Moving further down, her pussy ached as well.  After Mehmet and Lucy had fucked her previously virgin cunt, a dull throbbing pain emanated from her sex which even Olivia’s soft lips resting on her pussy couldn’t solve.  If Holly had any tears left she would have shed them.  Instead she stared blankly into the dark and tried desperately to sleep.

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The ringing alarm echoing loudly around the small cell woke Lucy instantly.  For the third time since she had been in here, she stood up and walked over to the large wall mirror.  Sitting down before it, she spread her legs, exposing herself entirely, and stared into her pussy as she picked up the dildo in her right hand while her left slowly rubbed her clit.  Slowly she lifted the heavy toy and put it at the entrance of her pussy.  Despite being well on the way after two rounds of this, she still rubbed her clit to lubricate herself and then steadily pushed the dildo into her vagina.  As she inched the shaft up her hole, she continued to rub her clit and soon felt her sex tingling, hardly surprising given how warmed up she was.  But she kept her eyes fixed on what her hands were doing, not wanting to look herself in the eye while she humiliated herself for their pleasure.

The heat in her loins grew stronger as one hand pumped the toy in and out while the other rubbed her sensitive clit with greater intensity.  Despite her situation, she hadn’t changed much and still enjoyed the pleasure washing over her.  As the speed of her hands increased, her body remembered  playing with herself, so much so that she almost forgot where she was or what she had to do, closing her eyes and making increasingly passionate moans and groans, imagining herself home as if nothing had happened.  But she knew it couldn’t last and as she reached for her climax she slowed down, the fingers on her left hand moving reluctantly away from her clit while her right slowly withdrew the dildo from her hole.  She had made sure she sounded convincing, as if she had brought herself right to the very edge of orgasm.  Lucy’s hand shook as she took the dildo from her body and placed it on the floor beside her.  Taking a moment to compose herself, she looked down between her legs at the large puddle on the floor, evidence that she was doing what was ordered.  Her eyes slowly moved from the floor to the mirror, looking first at her open pussy lips before checking her body and her face.  Her face was still beautiful, her features sharp, even if the puffiness of her eyes and cheeks showed she had been crying.  One thing had changed; her eyes now stared back with a certain hardness.  She knew her captors thought they had broken her by turning her on her friend but the opposite was true.  She was as determined to get out or to mentally resist as she was at the beginning.  But as the most intelligent of the trio, she had realised very early on that she could only do so by appearing cooperative.  She was convinced that she would not break no matter what they did, biding her time until an opportunity came.  So she kept up her humiliated persona as she crawled over to the blanket, part acting frustrated at her lack of climax.  As she tried to get comfortable beneath the inadequate cover, she gave a little hidden defiant smile.

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Greta stared blankly through the window as her car drove through the first of the castle gates.  She had been thinking about her toys all day and the ride home was no different.  Although she seemed  to be in total control of her actions and of planning out the entire scenario beforehand, in truth she  made up much as she went along.  She knew the basic steps and psychology of how to break girls but it was more fun to improvise on the process.  This was especially true given how different the girls were.  It was almost beyond belief that she had found three such beautiful girls who were so different, physically, emotionally and mentally.  She knew how she would break each one for she knew each one’s personality and limits, but what she didn’t know was how far along each of them was.  She had been doing this too long to be fooled into second guessing these things.

Waiting patiently for her driver to open the door, she smiled politely as she stepped out, briefcase in one hand, like any other businesswoman in the world.  She thanked him and walked deliberately toward the entrance.  It really was a magnificent residence, and Greta had an army of people keeping it in tip top condition, although most had finished for the night.  She walked to the door and the porter opened it immediately, Greta thanking him with a small smile as she continued into the house.  She wasted no time going upstairs, to shower and prepare for her girls.

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Olivia woke quickly when the blinding light pierced the dark, burning her eyes through her lids.  Though she had only half slept during the night, the sudden burst of light made her feel woken from a deep sleep.  When Olivia heard the dreaded clack of high heels on the stone steps, Holly began squirming beneath her, the poor girl obviously terrified by what would be done to her next.  The blonde was tied so tight that all she could do was roll her eyes up to look straight ahead.  Greta was coming down the last few steps to the stone floor, walking deliberately toward the table, each menacing step chilling Olivia to her soul.  Behind her was Mehmet, dressed in the same shirt and pants of their first meeting.  That felt so long ago, as if she had been here for weeks rather than hours.  Moving to Olivia’s front, Greta ran her hand down her face, stroking her cheeks with her long fingers.  But Olivia was reminded that the tender touch on her face was only temporary since she was level with Greta’s crotch and could see the woman’s pussy under her corset.  Greta gestured  Mehmet to undo the strap around Olivia’s head, releasing her mouth from Holly’s pussy.  Cupping Olivia’s chin, she stretched her head painfully until the girl looked up into her tormentor’s eyes.

“Wakey, wakey,” Greta said in a thoroughly unconvincing cheerful voice, “we have a busy time ahead, so let’s get you fed and watered.”  With that, Mehmet undid the buckles holding Olivia on top of Holly and unceremoniously dragged her to the floor.  With her arms still tied behind her back,  she was forced to simply kneel on the cold stones.

“Feed the bitch, Mehmet,” Greta snapped and walked toward Holly who shuddered when she saw her.  Greta trailed her long fingers up Holly’s body from her pussy to her stomach and then between her battered tits, softly over her neck and then her face, stroking her cheeks and hair like a loving mother with a child.  After a few moments, Greta moved back to her toys, enjoying Holly’s winces at each touch of her sensitive flesh.  The cruel hands then moved to her extremely sensitive pierced nipples and, after a moment,  tugged hard on her silver rings.  Holly wailed.  Without a gag she could scream although her sore throat could make no really loud sound.  Greta wiggled the rings and revelled in the hoarse shouts of pain erupting from the girl’s pretty little mouth.  Tears once more fell from those beautiful big eyes, refreshing the dried pool of tears from her previous tortures.

“Those rings look very pretty, Tits,” Greta said, “but we’re going to replace them with something smaller, just for the next few games.”  With that, Greta retrieved the same kit she had used to pierce Holly’s tits, placed it near her face and effortlessly leapt onto the table to straddle the girl’s midriff.  Once again her hands went to Holly’s tits, slapping them with moderate force a few times just to hear her howls of pain.  Greta closed her eyes to better listen to the sounds, now dying down to a mewling whimper, as she alternated between slapping the soft flesh of her breasts and pulling or twisting her nipple’s tender nubs.  After a good few minutes, Greta stopped and looked down at her plaything’s face, her eyes shut as if that would make the pain go away.  The German then opened the leather kit, taking out two small rods of metal with tiny balls on each end and small bottle of antibacterial gel.  She thought about getting Holly to open her eyes but decided it was pointless so she grasped Holly’s right tit and rubbed the nipple a few times before unclipping the silver ring.  Holly felt the removal of her piercing and immediately sprang to life, obviously terrified of what would happen next.  Greta squirted some gel onto the nipple and rubbed it in, preventing infection not for Holly’s sake but because she didn’t want to look at an infected nipple.  Next she pulled Holly’s nipple up to see the hole which made the girl enjoyably cry.  Taking the small rod in the other hand, she pushed one end through the hole, the ball marginally too big to go through. 

Holly squealed as the rod pushed through her abused nipple, the ball not fitting in the hole without a lot of force.  Both Greta’s fingernails pulling up her nipple and the new piercing being forced through created a new pain, doubled by the psychological torment of seeing her torturer smile at her hurt.  After what felt like minutes of pain but was only 15 seconds, Greta released her nipple with its new piercing and the sharp pain subsided into a dull ache.  But Holly now knew what was coming as Greta’s hand moved to her other nipple and pulled it up sharply.  As the pain ripped through her tortured tit, she again whimpered as the small metal rod was pressed against the hole, this time squirming as it was agonisingly pushed through her raw nub.  Greta was irked.

“Keep still, you little bitch,” she snapped.  She could have pushed the new piercing through much quicker but she just couldn’t resist the little sounds Holly made or her look of anguish.  The thought of what she would be like later made Greta so wet that her juices dripped onto Holly’s stomach.  Finally she popped the little round ball at the end of the rod into the nipple and  leaned back to admire her handiwork.  The piercings were barely visible in Holly’s swollen nipples, allowing a mouth to get fully around each aureole without too much metal in the way.  Greta tested it out, grasping the right tit firmly before putting her mouth down and sucking in as much nipple and tit flesh as she could.  Holly squealed as the powerful suction again made her breasts to throb with pain, and squealed again as Greta repeated it on the other tit.  Giving each globe a few quick slaps and a kiss to show she was satisfied, Greta jumped off the table.

As Greta worked on Holly’s tits, Mehmet fed Olivia.  Going into the back room, he returned with two bowls which he put before her, one filled with a porridge-like sludge, the other water.

“Eat,” Mehmet snapped, “drink.”

Olivia was hungry and so, abandoning all dignity, immediately began eating the porridge the only way she could with her hands tied, bending forward and scooping the cold sludge with her tongue.  Initially she tried to keep her face away from it but soon realised she had no choice but to eat like a dog and plunge in.  She ate noisily, the contents of the bowl disappearing quickly, and was soon licking the bottom to get every last morsel, finally running her tongue round her mouth.  She paused, warily waiting for any new commands, before doing the same with the water.  She was so thirstily  engrossed in drinking that she didn’t notice Hasan saunter in until he stood beside Mehmet.  She was humiliated at having to eat and drink like an animal in front of these rapists.  When Greta whistled, Hasan went over to receive instructions.  While Olivia knelt waiting for what would happen  next, she looked down, seeing how red her swollen nipples were, still aching from being clamped.  Further down, the redness round her pussy witnessed both her rape and the burning chilli oil.  Then she heard heels click on the stone floor.  Her next commands and tortures were upon her.

“All better after that, girl?” Greta said in gleeful non-question, “Now for you to do some work.  You may be all clean but Mehmet isn’t, so you need to clean him up.  You better be thorough as well.”

As Greta walked away, her clicking heels fading, Mehmet stepped in front of Olivia and when she didn’t look up immediately, grabbed her tightly by the hair and forced her to look at him.  Staring down into her eyes, a smirk etched on his face, he used his free hand to undo his belt buckle and then his trousers before letting them to fall to the floor, exposing his flaccid cock, and waited.  When Olivia didn’t move, he pulled her head toward his swinging dick, giving her hair a quick and painful twist.  She didn’t need telling twice.  Tentatively she poked out her tongue until it touched the head of his cock, the salty taste immediately apparent.  With Mehmet pulling her into his crotch, she could run her tongue over the whole head, feeling it jump each time.  His cock steadily hardened as her soft warm tongue flicked his sensitive glans, and he watched as she strained to catch up with it.  Olivia was sure she knew what he wanted next and so she opened her mouth and wrapped it around his cock, preparing to suck him off.  But although Mehmet enjoyed feeling her cute little mouth wrapped around his dick, as well as appreciating her willingness to obey, he knew that wasn’t her role for now.  So, tugging her head off the end of his dick, he forced the shaft along her mouth.   Olivia obediently stuck her tongue out as Mehmet passed first one side of his cock along it and then the other.  When he pointed his cock down, Olivia ran her tongue up the top of his dick and then back down again.  She did the same as he angled himself up.  Then Mehmet pushed his cock against his stomach and thrust his crotch into her face.  Confused, the girl looked up at him, meeting a stern scowl, before realising what she had to do.  With his grip on her hair not loosening at all, her face was forced against his swinging ball sack and so, with no choice, she began to bathe his scrotum with her salvia, her tongue almost toying with his balls.  Mehmet threw his head back, savouring her darting tongue over his sensitive sack, and let her do her work, the girl obviously trying to do well and avoid further punishment.  Desperate to please her master and be treated more leniently, Olivia attempted to suck a testicle, a move she had seen in some porn.  She knew she was pleasing him when his fingers twisted in her hair, and so continued to toy with his balls.  Unfortunately for Olivia, this was not all she had to do and Mehmet knew it.  Despite his enjoyment, he pulled on her hair to move her head away and, letting go, turned round and bent over slightly.  Olivia was puzzled for a moment then almost screamed in horror as she slowly realised.

“No please … don’t make … please,” Olivia begged.

She stared at Mehmet’s arse cheeks, his arsehole just visible in the dark of his crack, sobbing as she desperately begged, willing to take a beating or rape to avoid this ignominy.  But he was having none of it.  Reaching round, he gripped Olivia’s hair, pulling her hard towards him.  Olivia’s nose was buried deep in the cleft between his cheeks, the smell overpowering.  She retched as she tried to breathe through her mouth as Mehmet bent over further and forced her face further into his crack.

“Clean, bitch,” he snapped impatiently, “get that tongue out and lick.”

Olivia sobbed as she tentatively stuck her tongue out, the foul taste immediately enveloping her being.  She closed her eyes and traced the tip of her tongue along his crack until she found his hole and then, with every fibre of her being screaming for her to stop, she began to lick.  Thankfully he hadn’t just relieved himself so there was nothing to swallow, only taste.  But that was small comfort as she tongued away, her head always being forced forward by the powerful hands gripping her blond hair.  It seemed like hours of licking until, just as she was about to faint, Mehmet released her and she collapsed.  Going into the back, he returned with a bottle of pink liquid, picked Olivia up by her hair and pressed the liquid against her lips, forcing her to drink.  It tasted foul at first, then Olivia recognised the mint coolness as mouthwash, no doubt to wash the taste of shit out of her mouth.

“Good,” Mehmet said coldly.

Greta had watched Olivia’s efforts from over by the table while feeding and watering Holly.  With her lying tied down, it was an even more undignified force feeding.  Greta had forced a tube down Holly’s throat, enjoying her nascent retching, and was now pumping both food and water through the tube via a funnel.  This mechanical task was quite boring and so Greta had amused herself watching Mehmet force Olivia’s face into his arse crack, enjoying the girl’s continuous muffled gags and retches.  She’d had it easy so far, Greta thought.  Well, that was about to change.  Greta brought her hand down hard on Holly’s stomach, eliciting a little yelp and signalling that it was time for the next act.  Hasan moved swiftly, undoing the straps holding Holly in place and the ropes binding her ankles.  Keeping her wrists tied together, he carried the limp girl over to where she had first woken in the basement, using all his considerable strength to lift her up and hook her wrists onto the hook hanging from the ceiling.  Leaving her hanging, he moved back to assist Greta.

“Mehmet, bring her here,” she snapped.  Mehmet picked up the shivering Olivia and almost threw  her onto the table, both men securing her hands and feet.  Hasan then tied a strap over her forehead and secured it, ramping up Olivia’s fears.  Which increased when Greta clambered onto the table and straddled her, much as she had Holly but this time sitting down on Olivia’s tits.

“Ok, Blondie,” she began, almost cheerful in her voice, “Mehmet was very pleased with your cleaning; you will certainly be doing it a lot more.  But there are a few changes we need to make first, I think, just to make you better at it.  Mehmet, go tend to Tits over there.  Hasan, forceps.”

Olivia was almost frothing at the mouth at the mention of forceps, the poor girl terrified of what was in store for her.  She saw Mehmet leave the table out the corner of her eye with something large in his hand.  Meanwhile Hasan had reached into the kit and pulled out some forceps with a flat edge at the end of each arm.  As he held them menacingly over Olivia, she tried shaking her head violently from side to side, her loud screams echoing around the room.  Greta shook her head above her.

“You might want to hold off on the screaming or it’ll be so much worse for you.”

Olivia was panicking too much to hear what Greta said and continued her desperate but ultimately futile struggle.  Annoyed by the girl’s pathetic attempts to avoid her fate, Greta bent round, grabbed Olivia’s pussy lips and gave them a sharp and extremely painful twist.  Olivia’s struggles ceased as the pain in her sex overpowered her immediate panic and she stared up at Greta, pleading with her beautiful blue eyes for some compassion.  But there was none.

“That’s better, bitch.  The better you are the quicker this will end.  And if you don’t do as you’re told, I will slit your throat.  Now stick your tongue out, cunt.”

Tears streamed down Olivia’s face as she tried to balance the pain in her pussy, the threat on her life and impending torture.  She slowly opened her mouth and timidly began to stick her tongue out.  Hasan didn’t wait for her to comply.  When she opened her mouth, he reached in with the forceps, gripped her tongue and pulled it out to full stretch.  Olivia tried squealing again but without her tongue could only desperately gurgle.  Now Greta was ready.  Reaching into her kit, she took out a long thin needle and a small decorated stud, relishing how Olivia’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared when she showed them to the girl.  Wasting no time, Greta positioned the needle a third of the way along her tongue and pushed straight through, the needle easily emerging on the other side.  Pushing the needle all the way through, she immediately followed it with the stud which she secured in place.  The whole thing seemed to take a second and Olivia barely had time to register the pain until it was all done and even then, such was the precision of the operation, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she had feared.  Greta took a small piece of cotton wool from her kit and dabbed at the trickle of blood caused by the new piercing, before relaxing.  But Olivia’s ordeal was far from over.

Once again, Greta reached into the kit and showed Olivia what she took out.  This time the girl went absolutely wild, frantically trying to escape from her bonds as she saw what her torturer held.  But her struggles were useless, only serving to hurt her wrists and ankles where they were strapped in.  The scalpel glinted in the basement’s bright light as Greta held it aloft.  She could feel each movement of the girl’s body as she straddled her chest and watched the girl’s face as she panicked more than she ever had in her life.  Olivia was convinced she was about to die, the threat Greta had made earlier about to be realised.  Greta let the girl stew for a while, twisting the scalpel around in front of her eyes before making it disappear quickly behind Hasan’s hand.  Suddenly Olivia felt an explosion of pain followed by the copper taste of her own blood filling her mouth and she felt certain she was going to die.  Greta reached over and grabbed more cotton wool to stem the blood flow from Olivia’s cut frenulum.  Motioning Hasan to pull the tongue up so she could stop the blood flow at source, the German worked with a hospital’s surgeon-like efficiency, not a torture chamber dominatrix.  Once Olivia’s mouth was stuffed with cotton wool, Greta relaxed and looked down at her handiwork.  She had just nicked the frenulum beneath Olivia’s tongue so that the girl could now  extend her tongue much further than she had before.  While she had enjoyed Olivia licking her pussy, she couldn’t wait to give her a test drive with the stud and the new modification.  But, since it would take at least a few hours to heal, that wouldn’t be for some time.  In the meantime, she enjoyed watching Olivia’s wide open eyes, tears yet again streaming down her face.  With that, Greta gave her a little slap on the cheek and climbed off the table, over to her other toy.

While all this was going on, Mehmet had been focused on Holly.  The busty girl was hanging from the ceiling, her head resting limply just above her battered and bruised tits which still stood proud even with her arms extended.  Mehmet looked her up and down, admiring how beautiful she was, even with her tear stained face and puffy eyes, not to mention the welts from the beatings that covered her body.  He stared at her magnificent breasts which despite being battered, bruised, whipped, clamped and pierced, still stood up on her chest and were still every man’s dream.  Her whole body had not an inch of unnecessary fat.  If he could fuck her normally he would have done so in a heartbeat, even letting her go afterward.  Doing this to her was almost a shame but, once he got going, he knew he enjoyed it too much to stop.  He opened his bag and took out the contents.  Taking a few of the smaller items, he walked behind Holly and, setting other items down, took a small hair tie and grabbed her hair, pulling it back hard and making her squeal, before tying such a tight ponytail that it hurt, giving her forehead a permanently surprised look.  He gave a quick hard tug to make sure it was secure, before moving to Holly’s front.

He still had a couple of strange items in his hand which fixed Holly’s attention.  Effortlessly lifting one leg high into the air, he hooked it over his shoulder, exposing her cunt.  Holding what looked like a sanitary pad with adhesive round the edges, Mehmet carefully placed it over her pussy lips, ensuring it stuck firmly to her skin.  He continued to press the pad into her crotch all the way through, pulling her arse cheeks apart so it would cover her arsehole and making sure each hole was well covered before letting her leg drop.  Holly had no idea what was about to happen but she feared the worst.  Emotionlessly continuing to work, Mehmet took the next item, a pair of goggles used in sunbeds, and fitted them to completely cover her eyes, again fixing them with adhesive.  Plunged into total darkness, Holly now couldn’t see what was coming and was even more terrified by what was in store for her.  Finally he placed a piece of duct tape just large enough to cover Holly’s mouth over her lips.  He looked the girl up and down, once again admiring her beauty before beginning the next task.

Delving into his bag, he took out a paint brush and a can, and went back to the hanging girl.  Opening the can, he dipped the brush into a viscous black substance and then, dripping paint brush in one hand and can in the other, he stood and with one steady stroke painted a long line of liquid latex down Holly’s side.  The jet black latex contrasted beautifully with Holly’s white skin as yet another stroke was applied from her armpit to her hip.  The down strokes continued, turning her toned stomach from white to black, his methodical approach ensuring no skin was left unmarked.  He moved further down, covering the tops of her thighs and down to her knees  while just covering the outside of her legs for now.  Kneeling, he continued to paint her legs, moving to her dainty feet and covering them completely like little black shoes.  He moved round, painting the backs of her shapely legs, leaving only those parts that touched each other unpainted.  The brush snaked its way up her legs until he reached her toned arse, still largely unmarked by whips, belts or hands.  That wouldn’t last long, thought Mehmet, smiling a bit as he licked Holly’s peachy cheeks with the brush, making sure to hug the curves and dig the end of the brush into the cleft of her arse.  With great skill and dexterity, he worked the brush to accentuate Holly’s curves, ensuring the finished article would have the same curves as she did now.  Finishing her arse, Mehmet brushed up and down her back, and went on to paint her arms and armpits on both sides up to her bound wrists.  Then, standing in front of her once again, he prepared to paint her magnificent chest.  He began by crouching down slightly, lifting one of her spectacular tits and painting around the bottom, allowing it to dry slightly for a minute before doing the same with the other.  Drawing an outline around each of her luscious mounds, he then covered the rest of her torso in paint, going across the top of her chest and up her neck.  Then he gave his captive her mask.

Holly shivered as the cool paint was applied to her body, all the more concerning given that her eyes were covered.  She felt the bristles brushing her soft skin over and over, feeling it covering her entire body, the cool feel of the paint as it touched her skin disappearing as it covered more and more.  She flinched as Mehmet probed her sensitive arse crack with the brush and could barely control herself as he brushed her sensitive armpits and the soles of her feet.  Holly was convinced that whatever he was applying would soon cause her untold pain but even as he brushed up her neck there was still none.  Then Mehmet brushed up onto Holly’s cheek, coating her face with the same substance so quickly that within a minute her entire face was covered.  Holly suddenly realised she couldn’t breathe and immediately began to panic, but it didn’t last long as he whipped off the bandage covering her mouth, giving her precious air.  Mehmet took his little finger and just touched the coating at each nostril, giving her two tiny holes with which to breathe.  The next thing she felt was him brushing her head, covering her ears and hair completely in the thick paint, save for the pony tail which was allowed to hang free.  Even through the latex she could hear a commotion going on in front of her and was glad she couldn’t see what was happening to Olivia.  Now the only skin that could feel any cold air was the inside of her legs but Mehmet soon saw to that, the brush running first up one leg to the top of her thigh and then the other.  Holly now knew she was completely encased in whatever was on her body.  Not knowing what it was made it all the worse. 

Walking over from the table toward Mehmet and Holly, Greta was pleased with Mehmet’s work.  The girl was completely encased in liquid latex and needed just a few final touches before she was ready.  Greta bent down to Mehmet’s bag, took two items and walked up to Holly.  Reaching out, she ripped off the pad protecting Holly’s cunt and arsehole from the latex, enjoying her startled squeak.  Next she removed the goggles hiding Holly’s beautiful brown eyes, which flickered at the sudden exposure to the bright light.  Not wasting any time, Greta took a sponge and shaped the holes around her eyes to give a more professional finish, doing the same for the mouth as well.  Next she took the second item and sprayed it over Holly’s new bodysuit.  Immediately the latex dried, shrinking just slightly onto her body as well as taking on a shine that accentuated the few exposed parts of her body beautifully.  Her tits in particular looked magnificent, spectacular white bruised cliffs jutting out from her now shiny black body.  Looking at her, Greta was pleased at how the once innocent young woman had been turned into a slutty fucktoy and couldn’t hide her smile, even as Holly looked with pleading eyes at her.

“Take it down, Mehmet,” Greta said, unable to control her glee despite her best efforts to maintain her stern demeanour, “and then we can get started.”

Holly had heard Greta referring to her as ‘it’ which, in the context of the ordeal, didn’t  concern her greatly.  What preoccupied her, as Mehmet unhooked her hands from the hook, was what the German had planned for her next and exactly what role this new suit had in it.  She could already feel and hear the effects of the latex, the rubber squeaking slightly as her arms rubbed briefly against her sides, her body already feeling hot.  She could feel the suit had contracted slightly as it now felt tight all over her sore body.  Her tits still throbbed painfully, their base now constricted slightly by the edges of the suit.  When Mehmet cut the rope binding her wrists and walked back over to the bag, she weakly fell to her knees and had to support herself on her unbound hands.  When she saw him return with a pair of gloves the same material as her suit, she almost offered her hands to him, knowing what he planned and not wanting to risk disobeying him.  The gloves didn’t exactly slide on but her cooperation, enforced by a menacing look from Greta, they were soon firmly in place, the cuffs so tight against her wrists she could barely see where the suit ended and the gloves began.  Now that she was completely encased in the latex, Mehmet stood up and walked behind her, pulling hard on her ponytail to force her to look up at Greta.

“My, my,” began the German in her typically callous manner, “what a sight we have here.  Do you remember that innocent girl we brought in here, Mehmet?  Now look what kneels before us.  A cheap little fuckslut.”  That last phrase sounded faintly ridiculous in her European accent but Holly was in no position to laugh even if she had wanted to.  “Only its useful parts are on display; its three holes of cunt, ass and mouth; its big udders to be played with and tortured; and those big brown eyes so we can see its pain and suffering.  See, Tits, there is no ‘you’ anymore, only it.  Whatever it was before, now it is just a whore, good only for taking pain and giving pleasure to its masters.  It is a slave that will do nothing without the permission of its superiors.  It is a worthless toy that will obey without question, that lives only to give pleasure.  It is a slave that will do nothing without the permission of its superiors.  Does it understand?”

A tear fell from Holly’s eye, speeding up as it rolled over her latex covered cheek, as she listened to the horrible lecture on her new role.  Even after what she had so far experienced, even as she was raped and beaten for no other reason than for the pleasure of these sadists, this was a step further.  She had been treated, albeit with incredibly cruelty, at least like a human being.   Now Greta spoke  as if she were an animal with no free will whatsoever, a dog that was only alive to please its masters.  She thought of herself clad in this ridiculous latex suit like a cheap porn actress in a low budget European film, so far removed from the girl she had been on that fateful night.  She looked into the woman’s eyes and was astonished by the anger and rage she saw there.  She had done nothing to these people, why had they treated her and her friends so horribly?  Why did they take so much pleasure in pain?  Regardless, she had no option now but to submit.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.  Now show it understands its purpose.”

Holly was confused as to exactly how she was to do this when she felt Mehmet release the grip on her pony tail and walk in front of her, unbuckling his trousers as he went.  Standing before her, he dropped his pants to the floor, revealing his cock swinging almost completely flaccid in front of her face.  Now she understood what was expected and, fearing the repercussions if she did not comply immediately would be worse than what faced, she reached out to touch the dick in front of her.

WHACKKKK!!!!

Holly’s ears rang as the right side of her face exploded in pain.  Mehmet’s flat hand thudded into her cheek with ferocious force, the sound ringing round the basement, and she sprawled onto the floor.  As Holly composed herself, hauling herself to her knees, she could barely hear her mistress’ anger.

“Stupid fucking slut!” came the cry, Greta’s rage almost breaking through her practised façade, “What did we tell it!? It must ask permission! Quickly!”

Holly’s cheek throbbed from the impact as she prepared to do as she was told.  She had accepted her position of vulnerability and was prepared to be subservient to save herself further punishment, but she still had a lump in her throat as she prepared to degrade herself further, begging to service a man she wished dead with all her heart.

“Please, master, may I suc…”

WHACK!!!!

Once again Holly was sent to the floor with her ears ringing loudly.  She had not recovered from the earlier blow when this one was delivered with the same ferocity to her other cheek.  The pain was intense and Holly’s head was spinning as she took a moment to regain some kind of composure.  Once again the bark from Greta was only just audible.

“It must not use that word! It is not an ‘I’ a ‘you’ or a ‘me’! It is a worthless toy! Again!”

As Holly battled to her knees with her head pounding and tears rolling down her latex clad cheeks, she wasn’t sure which was worse, the physical pain or her mental torment.  This new degradation had reduced her self esteem to virtually nothing.  Perhaps soon, she thought, she would actually accept that she was indeed an it.  The thought terrified her even as she spoke the degrading word.

“Please, master, may … it suck your cock.”

“Better, “ Greta said, dropping her menacing tone, “not perfect but better.  From now on it is to refer to itself as ‘this whore’, ‘this slut’, ‘this cunt’ or anything similar.  Now it may please its master.”

“Do it, cunt.”  Mehmet chimed in harshly.

Holly paused to collect herself and then circled the base of his limp dick with her gloved right hand.  At least she’d had some experience of this, for she had given some handjobs growing up, as well as two blowjobs.  Although she had been a virgin, she was not as frigid as her captors thought and she tried to imagine that this was just like the other times.  That of course was impossible, for as she moved her hand along his shaft the shine of the latex told her how far from home she really was.  Wanting to avoid further punishment by pleasing Mehmet, Holly shuffled forward and then sat on her heels, freeing up her left hand to play with his scrotum.  She moved both her hands softly and almost skilfully until she felt his dick swell in her grasp.  At that, she leaned forward slightly and gently licked the head.  The lack of chastisement told Holly she was doing the right thing and so she continued.  Keeping her hands moving, Holly took the head of his stiffening cock into her mouth and ran her tongue along the sensitive underside as she felt Mehmet’s hand move to the back of her head.  His cock was still only semi erect but when Holly began slightly bobbing her head up and down, and increased fondling his scrotum, it was only  seconds before he was fully erect, his huge dick stretching away from Holly as she rubbed her hand up and down its shaft.  Mehmet pulled down firmly on her ponytail and Holly understood the message, looking up as she bobbed her head on his cock, her innocent eyes seeing a face oozing lust. 

Mehmet stared down into Holly’s eyes with a mixture of lust and no small amount of surprise.  Given how innocent she had been, not to mention a virgin, he had expected her to be completely hopeless at sucking his cock.  She wasn’t great, of course, but she had clearly done this before and most likely had practised or had read some guide to it.  The feel of her latex covered fingers on his shaft and balls had been fantastic for Mehmet, who had always had something of a thing for it.  It hadn’t taken long for the blood to rush to his cock, something he had been fighting for the last half hour.  He savoured her hot wet mouth around the head of his cock for a moment, the feel of her tongue running slowly up and down.  Now, with the girl bobbing up and down nicely on his cock seemingly carefree, he decided to remind her where she was.  He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and before she had a chance to react, he thrust forward whilst pulling her head into his crotch.  Her hands suddenly stopped moving and he used his free hand to force her left hand back onto his balls and move it around as he pumped out then back into her open mouth.  He only buried half of his shaft in her mouth but it was enough for him to hear her gagging and to see the strands of saliva  escaping from her mouth and stretching down onto her tits.  She moved her head down slightly to accommodate the intrusion but Mehmet was having none of it, pulling both down and forward on her head so she was forced to look up at him as he thrust even deeper.  He sensed almost a betrayal in her eyes, as she felt she was being punished for only doing what was asked of her.  But it didn’t matter to Mehmet.  He pulled fully out, giving her a moment to catch her breath, before plunging back in with great force.  It didn’t matter what Holly did with her hands and tongue now.  He was fucking her face as he would a pussy.  After a few brutal thrusts, he plunged his cock all the way in, forcing her to gag loudly as he pushed her nose right up to his crotch.  She obviously couldn’t take it and so, just as he felt she was about to vomit, he pulled all the way out to give her time to breath. 

Holly was partly shocked when the almost tranquil blowjob she had been giving gave way to a brutal porn style face fuck but deep down she had suspected it was coming.  Even so, she struggled to cope with the sudden intrusion and gagged hard as his cock head slammed the back of her mouth.  She tried desperately to breath as his shaft pumped in and out liked a piston but her air supply was severely limited with only two small holes by her nostrils.  She felt saliva escaping in long strands from her mouth and then drip onto her tits.  Her hands had stopped moving when his assault started and she quickly felt his anger when he painfully gripped her left hand, forcing it to cup and massage his balls again.  But Holly’s mind was now focused on managing her mouth rape.  She inhaled desperately and tried her best not to gag, but she had never experienced anything like this.  As more of his shaft entered her mouth each time, she felt as though she was going to throw up as his cock repeatedly struck the back of her throat.  Holly held the base of his cock tightly with her right hand  to stop herself being thrown backward with the force of his thrusts, although the hands now tightly gripping the back of her head were not going to let that happen.  Then, just as she felt she had developed a technique to deal with his cock, Mehmet forced her head forward and buried himself in her mouth.  Holly’s eyes widened as he forced his dick deep down her throat, tears again streaming down her face and joining the puddles of saliva pooling on her breasts.  Her face was forced hard into his crotch as she gagged on his dick, her nose pressed so hard against him she was sure it would break.  She couldn’t control her gag reflex anymore and felt her stomach lurch.  Just as she was about to vomit, Mehmet released his grip on her head and slowly slid his still very erect cock out of her.  Panting hard from the lack of air, Holly felt relieved as he released his grip on her head and moved his cock from her mouth, ending that particular ordeal.

Mehmet savoured the feeling of having his cock buried in the girl’s throat then reluctantly pulled out.  He could have fucked that cute little mouth of hers until he came but that was not his job now.  He looked down at her kneeling beneath him, looking so fuckable in that tight latex suit.  What his eyes focused on, though, were her magnificent tits, jutting out proudly from her chest.  The contrast of the black latex of the suit with her white – albeit slightly bruised – tits was sublime and Mehmet knew just what he wanted to do next.  He reached round and grabbed her ponytail, angling her head to look up at him with those big doe eyes, like dinner plates piled high with pain.  Gripping her hair hard, he pulled up so she was up on her knees, her mouth level with his navel and, crucially, her tits with his crotch.  Although not part of the plan, Mehmet simply couldn’t resist.  He was sure Greta wouldn’t mind anyway for he would not take long and it would ensure the girl would still be humiliated.  But it would be remiss of him not tit fuck the bitch now, while her globes looked so luscious, glistening with a mixture of saliva and tears.  Keeping his left hand firmly in her hair, Mehmet took his cock, still dripping with her saliva, in his right hand and moved it across the top of her perfect mounds.  He could see in Holly’s eyes that she knew what as coming, so he saw no reason to keep her waiting.  He pressed his cock into her soft flesh a couple of times then ran it in between her tits a few times.  Enough playing, he thought, time to get down to business.

“Push those tits together, cunt,” he spat, looking right into her eyes.  He could see her flinch as he said it and took his hand away from his cock as if he were about to strike her.  Immediately obeying, she brought her little black hands up to squeeze her big jugs together.  Mehmet bent over a little and buried his cock deep in her cleavage.  His eyes kept moving from her eyes to her tits and back again, enjoying the “deer in the headlight” look in her eyes almost as much as he enjoyed seeing his dick between her globes.  He moved his cock in and out a little with small thrusts, just watching the head poke out briefly before disappearing back into her flesh.  Now to make her take the reins.

“Titfuck me.”

The command was succinct but Holly momentarily had no idea what she was supposed to do.  She may never have done it but she knew what a titfuck was.  Only, wasn’t he supposed to fuck her breasts whilst she held them?  Or was she supposed to do something?  One thing she did know was that if she just knelt there, he would beat her.  So she tentatively began to move her breasts up and down his shaft, while looking up to check she was doing it correctly.  Apparently she was and so she  began to speed up, squeezing her tits together tightly as they threatened to pop out of her grasp.  Using her whole upper body, she attempted to please him by moving all the way up and down his shaft by moving her hips, moving her tits from where his bell end poked out between her mounds until only his head was between them and back up.  This way, she reasoned, he would be pleasured and hopefully would cum soon and this would be over.  If she could just placate these monsters long enough for help to arrive, perhaps they could all get out of here in one piece.

Mehmet couldn’t believe it; the little slut was really going for it!  He watched as she put her whole body into titfucking him, moving those giant udders up and down his shaft as if all she wanted to do was please him.  He reminded himself that this was a girl who had fucked just once, by him no less.  Now she was putting every muscle in her body into jerking him off with her melons.  Mehmet pulled down hard on her ponytail to see if she would stop but though he could see the hurt in her eyes, she carried on, stimulating him both physically and mentally.  Mehmet released her and instead began to unbutton his shirt, ready for the next stage in this little game.  Still she kept going, ignoring him as he tossed his shirt to the side and grabbed her hair once again with one hand.  Then suddenly he felt it, the tingle in his balls signalling he was not far away from his climax.  It was way ahead of schedule and he had to forestall it.  So he suddenly pulled away from Holly, enjoying how she initially reached out with her chest.  He moved over to the bag and took something out, holding it tightly in his hand,  then lay down on the floor not far in front of Holly, putting whatever had been in his hand under his body.  He put his hands behind his head and relaxed, his cock poking up into the air like a sundial.

Greta walked toward Mehmet, having stood to the side and quite far back through the first part of this scene.  She had been very pleased with the performance of the toy, though she had been surprised with Mehmet.  Usually he stayed very much on message, but the titfuck had not been part of the script.  While she would have to reprimand him later, she had in fact enjoyed it.  Watching Holly desperately move her fat tits up and down to please him had been quite amusing, and in no small part arousing.  Now, though, the script had been restored and as Mehmet lay on the floor with his cock pointing skyward, Greta approached Holly, the riding crop she had used earlier now back in her hands.  She tapped it in her hand lightly and watched Holly’s eyes follow its every movement before she brought it crashing down on Holly’s latex clad rump with a giant smack.

“Good, cunt,” Greta said, ignoring the yelp of pain from her slave, “it is learning its place well.  Now it must beg for its master’s cock deep inside its worthless cunt.”

Holly’s arse stung from the blow but there was no time to nurse it now.  Having decided obedience was her best chance of staying alive and avoiding pain, she threw herself into it.  Not wanting  another crack of the crop on her rump, she didn’t stand but crawled on her hands and knees like a dog toward Mehmet, stopping just in front of his feet.  Just hours ago, that would have caused her to cry with embarrassment but she was hardened now, willing to do what it took.  She steadied herself, then spoke.

“Please can you fuck this…this slut?” she asked, only belatedly aware of the heels rapping on the floor.  Another loud and painful smack on the arse followed.

“Is it deaf!?” screamed Greta, “It was told to ask for its master’s cock deep inside its worthless cunt!  Again!”

Holly ignored the constant degrading message and instead mentally prepared herself to be penetrated for only the second time in her life, so the next words were just a formality.

“Please, master,” she began, “this slut would like your cock inside its worthless … cunt.”

“Ride it, whore,” came the reply.

Holly knew immediately what she had to do and wasted no time.  She crawled further, spreading her legs farther apart so as to straddle Mehmet, inadvertently giving Greta a great view of her puckered arsehole.  Once level with his cock, Holly moved onto her knees and positioned her hole directly above Mehmet’s erect dick.  With one hand she held Mehmet’s cock upright and slowly lowered herself down until he just brushed her pussy lips.  The contact with her previously virgin cunt brought back immediate flashbacks of her first brutal rape not far from where she was now.  She desperately tried to forget those horrible memories, but as she positioned the cock head at her entrance, all her feelings of worthlessness came flooding back with a vengeance.  Trussed up like a  cheap porno actress and being forced to ride the dick of a man who had raped her, made her feel like shit.  But she slowly eased herself down the shaft.  Though still dry, this time his cock was not, coated as it was with her saliva, and the much slower speed compared to their previous encounter meant it was now much less painful.  It didn’t take long to slide as far down his shaft as she felt able, well over half of his thick cock buried in her tight snatch.  Slowly she began to move up and down his shaft, moving so tentatively it was as if she were scared she would detonate a bomb if she moved faster.  Meanwhile Mehmet removed his hands from her arse and up toward her prized assets.

Mehmet didn’t mind Holly bouncing on his cock like a decrepit old woman.  She would speed up soon enough; Greta would see to that.  All he could see were those stupendous breasts swinging before him.  He brought his hands up from her arse, admiring how the latex tightly hugged the curves of her shapely hips, and rested his hands just underneath her magnificent breasts.  His eyes glared at her menacingly as he gently bounced her tits up and down in his hands.  He looked deep into her eyes as she continued to move up and down his dick at a funereal pace, and his hands continued to gently bounce her funbags up and down.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Greta move toward her and he knew the time for her to fuck him properly had come.  He only half watched as she raised the riding crop high and brought it down with a loud crack on Holly’s arse.

“Does it not want to please its master!?” Greta yelled, the anger in her voice even scaring Mehmet, “Well, cunt!?”  Another vicious blow landed on Holly’s cheek, red beneath the black latex skin.

“Yes … mistress,” Holly replied, the last syllable an afterthought delivered just in time.

“Then it must fuck its master properly!” Greta shouted, giving one final blow from her crop.  She noted Mehmet give her tits a vicious slap to coincide with hers and the bitch immediately reacted,  finally beginning to make some effort.  Greta stepped back and allowed the scene to unfold.

Mehmet had felt electrified when his hand slapped the side of her tit, especially since it was immediately followed by a significant improvement in the whore’s performance.  Now that she was fucking him properly, he could play with those tits.  He waited for a moment, watching her melons bobbing lightly up and down as she rode him with renewed intensity.  They were mesmerising but he needed them closer.  He needed to taste them.  Roughly he tightly grabbed both her tits and pulled them toward him.  Surprised, Holly lurched forward but she knew better than to stop and her hips continued to move her pussy up and down his long shaft.  Mehmet was in heaven, his cock gripped by one of the tightest cunts he had ever been in and his face buried in an equally magnificent pair of tits.  He took a long deep breath through his nose.  Even after a few days down here, she still retained her most feminine smell, perfectly preserved between her breasts.  Next Mehmet took one nipple into his mouth and sucked it violently whilst both his hands squeezed her soft bruised flesh over and over.  Mehmet could hear the groans of pain from the girl but they merely spurred him on as he sucked hard at first one nipple then the other, all the time kneading her tits as if he were making bread.  As he immersed himself entirely in her tit flesh, her pussy continued to stimulate him as she moved it up and down at speed, her hips tiring from the effort but her mind too scared to allow her to stop.  For the first time, Mehmet began thrusting back, plunging his cock deeper into her tight cunt as he grew more and more aroused.  A particularly deep thrust created a wave of pleasure and he bit down hard on her sensitive and swollen nub, his teeth grinding until he felt the small piercing in her tit, all to the musical accompaniment of a loud wail from the latex slut.

Holly shrieked as the man’s teeth sank into her much abused nipple.  It was a jagged contrast to the rough and uncomfortable yet relatively gentle treatment of her breasts she had felt over the last few minutes.  But she continued to move her pussy up and down his shaft, but with her bent forward, it was less up and down and thus harder for her to do.  Her thighs burned from the strain, her arse still throbbed from the crop and the pain in her bruised tits came flooding back, as Mehmet squeezed them roughly between his fingers.  Yet she daren’t stop.  Instead she resolved to continue, however much it hurt, until she’d made him cum.  Hopefully, she would then be allowed to rest without pain for just a little while.  That wasn’t all that was going through her head though.  Her body was starting to betray her as she felt a wetness seep over her pussy lips.  Despite being forced to bounce up and down on his dick and his rough treatment of her breasts, she was still a woman and her body was beginning to respond.  She felt slightly ashamed but at the same closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the feeling.  It was then she felt another set of hands.  At first she thought they were Mehmet’s but  immediately dismissed the idea as she could feel those clawing at her tits.  She looked up alarmed, to see Greta standing in front of her smiling, leaving only one option.  As she realised whose hands had gripped her hips, she felt something slide down the cleft of her arse.  She stopped bouncing on Mehmet’s cock and turned around to see Hasan grinning at her, his cock resting at the entrance to her arsehole.  She tried to fight him but the grip on her hips was too strong and even as she tried to buck her hips away, he pushed the head of his cock hard against her tightly shut hole.  Mehmet had obviously seen Hasan and, reluctantly moving his hands away from Holly’s tits, was spreading her arse cheeks apart.  Holly fought hard to keep her arsehole shut but as Hasan pushed harder and harder forward, eventually she couldn’t hold it any longer.  With a satisfying pop, Hasan’s glans slipped past the tight ring of her sphincter and nestled in the warmth of her arse chute.  Holly was filled with shame even as she tried to expel the invader.  She had never thought to be taken like this, even by a man she wanted to give herself to.  Now she was being sodomised against her will.  Worse, she had two cocks in her, one deep in her pussy and one slowly but surely creeping into her resisting arsehole.  Its progress was inexorable despite the tightness and as Mehmet once again began to thrust in and out of her pussy, she felt as low as she possibly could.

After cleaning as much of Olivia’s blood as he could and covering her wound with more gauze in case it bled again, Hasan went over to the two.  While he enjoyed causing pain to the girls trapped here, he didn’t enjoy procedures like Olivia’s.  What he liked was what would happen to Holly very soon.  He could already see her bouncing up and down on Mehmet’s cock, the crop whipping her arse ringing round the room.  Watching Mehmet bury his face in her fantastic tits, he stepped back and stripped, ready to play his part.  He spat on his hand and jacked his cock off to bring it fully to attention then walked over to stand directly behind her.  His dick rose to attention as he looked down at her cute little arsehole moving up and down with her pussy.  Creeping as quietly as he could, Hasan crouched lower so he was only centimetres away, already feeling the heat radiating off her smooth black body.  Kneeling, he positioned his cock level with her hole.  With the head of his cock bobbing in the air in anticipation, he grabbed the girl’s shapely hips with both hands and thrust forward slightly, allowing his dick to run down the cleft of her cheeks and rest against her opening.  He could feel her try to buck away but held her firm, keeping her steady as he pressed forward.  Mehmet’s hands came up to her arse and pried her cheeks apart, making Holly strain even harder to shut his cock out.  He could feel her muscles quivering as she tried desperately to keep him out but when she couldn’t hold it any longer, Hasan slipped his cock past her sphincter into her hot chute.  He kept pressing forward, slowly sinking further and further into her arse, the walls gripping his shaft like a glove.  Still holding her hips tightly, Hasan pushed forward with renewed vigour and watched half his cock slide into her virgin arse.  As the girl whimpered, he pulled back slightly before pushing forward again, only moving an inch but giving the girl a taste of what was to come.

Tears streamed down Holly’s cheeks as Hasan forced himself further and further into her arsehole, stretching the walls of her virgin arse painfully.  As his cock moved deeper and deeper inside her, she whimpered with each small movement.  She couldn’t believe how full she felt, her two holes both stuffed fuller than she could ever have imagined.  She felt certain the cock sliding inexorably further into her arse chute would surely tear her in two on its own, but coupled with the cock once again pounding in and out of her pussy, Holly was certain she would never be the same again.  She could now feel Hasan’s crotch against the curves of her arse, indicating he had buried his entire length inside her virgin hole.  And when she felt him pulling back, the pain of her stretched hole wasn’t lessened at all as he readied himself to fuck her.  She felt him withdraw until just the head of his cock was inside then he gripped her hips tightly and slammed forward with tremendous force.  The impact of his body into her behind shook her whole body, her tits swinging forward till they almost hit her in the face.  As suddenly as he had thrust forward he pulled back, rested for a moment with just the tip of his cock inside her before driving into her again.  As her whole body again rocked forward, Holly was hit by a wave of pain from her arse, his barely lubricated cock scraping the sensitive walls of her stretched chute.  She was being fucked hard by two cocks at the same time like some cheap crack whore, all her previous innocence now completely gone. 

With Hasan now almost fully inside her, Mehmet moved his hands back to her tits, squeezing her soft melons roughly as he fucked her tight cunt faster and faster.  He could feel Hasan’s cock through Holly’s cunt walls, the size of his dick making the girl’s hole grip his cock even tighter.  He was in seventh heaven as he buried his face in her succulent chest, biting and squeezing her soft flesh, all to the luscious accompaniment of her whimpering and mewling, her wet tears cascading onto his face.  It wasn’t long before he could feel his balls tingle and he knew he was almost ready to cum.  Pounding in and out of the girl as fast as possible, he took the nipple of one tit into his mouth and ground down hard.  The girl’s scream spurred him on and pushed him over the edge.  Squeezing one tit so hard she thought he might tear it off, and grinding his teeth into her swollen nipple, he plunged his cock as deep into her hole as hard as he could.  His whole body shook as he shot jet after jet of his hot cum deep into her womb, coating her insides with a thick layer of jizz.  His hand kept squeezing her soft tit as the girl’s tight cunt milked his last drops of cum as Hasan’s fucking kept her rocking back and forth.  As the ecstasy of his powerful orgasm subsided, he released her tits from his grasp, watching the nipple he had ground his teeth into throb a violent red, his teeth marks still visible on her pink flesh, a small trickle of blood where he had broken the skin.  He watched her now as Hasan fucked her, her tits swinging just above his head each time Hasan slammed into her.  Mehmet watched mesmerised as her breasts danced in front of him, his cock softening inside her, the cries of anguish from the girl like music to his ears.  After what felt like an eternity staring at her, his cock, slick with cum, slipped out of her pussy.  It was time for the next stage.

With her breasts still swinging pendulously above him, Mehmet reached beneath his back and took out the objects he had taken from the bag; two thick black rubber bands.  Stretching one with both hands, he reached up to catch one of her swinging mounds within it, shimmying it to the base of the breast before releasing it with a snap.  Immediately Holly’s bruised flesh turned crimson as the blood was trapped in her tits, the rubber band constricting the flesh at the base.  He looked up at Holly to see her reaction to this new torture, watching the girl still being sodomised, her eyes wide with fear.  Smiling a little, he repeated the procedure with her other breast until both bulged obscenely from her chest.  The violent swinging with each fuck was now replaced by each solid bulging tit bobbing slightly with the force of Hasan’s thrusts.  Although not squeezed enough to turn purple, they were sufficiently constricted that each magnificent tit throbbed red, bulging beautifully from her latex suit.  Mehmet ran his hands over her taut skin, relishing how she flinched at his touch, the constriction making her much abused melons even more sensitive.  His eyes fixed on hers as he slowly shimmied out from beneath her and walked back into the shadows.

Holly screamed as Mehmet bit into her nipple like a piece of meat on a dinner plate.  Her entire chest throbbed with pain as he ground his teeth into her soft flesh while mauling her other breast so roughly she thought he might tear it off.  All the while, both her holes were stuffed full of dick,  making her feel as though torn in two.  Her wails of anguish filled the room as Mehmet plunged deep into her pussy.  Then, for only the second time in her life, Holly felt the spurt of hot cum inside her.  There was no relief though, for even as Mehmet’s dick softened, Hasan’s relentless pounding of her arse continued, throwing her forward with each thrust.  Such was the intensity of his fucking that Holly didn’t notice what Mehmet was doing until the first band closed around the base of her breast.  Still being fucked hard in the arse, she looked down and saw her breast bulge outwards and turn red, the constriction causing her bruises to ache once more.  There was nothing Holly could do as Mehmet moved onto her other tit, drinking in her worried look as he repeated the process.  There was nothing she could do as he once again shimmied the band up her tit before stretching it and letting it slap painfully onto her flesh.  And when Mehmet raised his hands to only lightly stroke her crimson skin, Holly whined as pain ripped through her chest.  As he kept just brushing his hands over her taut skin and the pain continued through her breasts, she realised they had done this just to further abuse her now even more sensitive tits.  Through the pounding of her arse she could just about feel Mehmet’s limp cock as it slipped out of her pussy and she watched as he wriggled out from under her.  No sooner had Mehmet gone than Hasan pulled back on her ponytail, forcing her to look straight ahead.  In front of her, Greta stood, weapon in hand.

Greta had watched the whole scene unfold with glee.  Watching her new toy as she bounced up and down on Mehmet’s dick made her pussy tingle.  The girl’s clear distress turned her on almost as much as watching those luscious tits bouncing around.  Greta moved quietly closer as she saw Hasan approaching her whore from behind, hoping for a good look at her despair as she realised what was about to happen.  As her assistant lined his massive dick up to her virgin arsehole, it was as sweet as she had hoped, the girl’s eyes going wide and her body thrashing around as best she could.  She kept moving around them, seeking a good view of the scene.  Without thinking, her hand moved to her crotch and as the tears fall down the slut’s face, she began to gently rub her sex.  She looked on, still rubbing her pussy slowly, as Mehmet  reached his climax, relishing the wails coming from Holly as he mauled her abused tits.  It was time to prepare the next stage and so, while Mehmet finished inside Holly, she moved to the wall and picked up her chosen implement, a black electric charge box and in the other a long black cable, frays of copper wire fanning out from the end.  Greta swung it through the air a few times just to get a feel of it.  It was time.

As Greta turned, she could see Mehmet had done his job well.  Holly’s huge tits bulged obscenely from her chest, just waiting to be abused further.  Although she preferred those udders swinging  freely from the whore, she knew that bound like this, they would hurt so much more.  As she switched the machine on, a sadistic smile crossed her face as she anticipated the screams from her toy when the current coursed through her tits.  The machine whirred slightly and as she turned to face her victim, Hasan pulled hard on her ponytail.  The girl’s eyes looked up and her eyes went wide as she saw Greta standing before her.  Greta thought about taunting her, telling the little bitch why she deserved everything she was going to get but decided against it.  The cunt had probably thought she was pleasing her masters enough to be spared further punishment but she was wrong.  Greta didn’t care what the bitch did, she just wanted to hurt her, to pile all her smouldering rage on this innocent girl.  As Hasan pulled harder on her ponytail, forcing Holly virtually straight up and all the while still pounding in and out of her arse, Greta snarled and swung the cable hard into Holly’s tit.  The girl’s scream echoed loudly around the room as the thin wires of the cable bit into her bulging tit and the electric current ripped through her chest.  Greta savoured the sound of her torment, listening and smiling as her screams rebounded off the walls.  Looking  down at her toy, Greta readied herself for another swing, Hasan still pounding relentlessly into her arse.  The girl was forced to look straight at Greta, her wonderful big brown innocent eyes pleading for this ordeal to be over.  But seeing the girl so desperate and helpless only spurred Greta on, her entire being overcome with a desire to hurt her as much as possible.  Gleefully she swung the cable into Holly’s breast again,  smiling broadly as the poor girl’s anguish resonated round the basement.

The pain ripped through Holly’s entire being as the cable touched her skin.  First she felt the pain of the frayed wires smacking her swollen tit but though painful, it was nothing to the moment later, the electric shock hitting like a freight train and coursing agonisingly through her breasts.  It was the worst pain she had ever experienced and her scream reflected this.  She had not recovered from the first blow when a second slammed into her sensitive flesh, the pain even greater than the first.  The tears fell down her face and her head was filled with pain and screams.  The sting from Greta’s weapon bit into her again, a pain so intense she almost forgot about the constant pain of Hasan buggering her arsehole.  Each time Greta swung the electrified cable into her tits, an explosion of agony ripping through her and her entire body filled with pain.  She screamed again as the current red flashed through her and tried closing her eyes to pretend to be somewhere else.  But it was no use.  Hasan slapped her arse as he plunged his cock into her, then the sting of the wires and the agony of the charge jolted her back into the real world.  Holly wished with all her heart to die.

Holly’s tight arsehole gripped Hasan’s dick even tighter each time Greta swung the cable into the bitch’s bound tits.  He pulled hard on her hair, knowing the more pain he caused the tighter she’d become.  With his dick pounding in and out of her so quickly, he noticed he wasn’t far away from his climax, the bitch’s screams pushing him closer and closer to the edge.  His free hand rained down on her arse as he pounded in and out of her tight hole, his balls beginning to tighten as he neared the end.  He tried to hurt her as much as possible so she would milk his big dick, tugging her hair and spanking her arse as Greta continued flogging her tits with the cable.  It was imminent and he forced his dick as far into her as possible.  Pulling her onto him hard one last time, he buried his dick in her tight arsehole, his whole body trembling as he pumped her bowels full of hot sticky cum.  Hasan threw his head back as the pleasure of his orgasm washed over him, his hand still gripping her hair as hard as he could.  He opened his eyes and watched Greta swinging the cable again and again into the bitch’s chest, the rage etched on her face surprising even him.  He slowly released the grip on her hair and she slumped to the floor, his slick cock slipping out of her.  He looked at Greta and she smiled back, knowing she had gone a long way to breaking the cow’s spirit.

Switching off the machine, Greta put the cable on the floor, her arm aching from swinging it, and  looked at the crumpled black sobbing mess on the floor, smiling.  The big titted bitch looked totally broken, her arse in the air and her face pressed against the cold stone floor.  Walking over, her high heels echoing around the basement, she stood over the girl, feeling so powerful, knowing she could kill her if she wished.  Bending down, she rubbed Holly’s arse, the girl barely registering this new contact then thrust her right index finger into Holly’s stretched black gaping arsehole.  She could just reach some of Hasan’s cum with a long nail before withdrawing and spanking Holly hard with her left hand.  Enough of her moping.  Greta yanked her hair up, forcing Holly to alleviate the pain in her scalp by weakly coming to her knees and using her hands to support herself.  She looked down at her toy and those big brown eyes looked up at her.

“Not finished yet,” Greta snarled, her eyes flitting between Holly’s eyes and her battered bulging tits, “open wide.”

Pulling Holly’s hair to tilt her head up, Greta placed the cum dripping finger over her mouth.  Her angry stare convinced the girl to open it, and Greta pushed in, forcefully fingered Holly’s mouth, enjoying the metaphorical rape of her toy.  Holly’s tear-stained black-masked face looked up at her tormentor with no emotion.  When Greta took her finger out, she motioned Hasan to stand in front of Holly, his cock hanging level with her face and stained with all manner of fluids.

“Clean him.”

Although she felt sick at the thought of putting that stained dick in her mouth, Holly knew she had no choice.  Greta pushed her head into Hasan’s crotch and the acrid smell hit her like an avalanche.  She knew she had to end this and stuck out her tongue.  The taste was foul.  Moving her tongue around the tip of his cock, she tried not to think about what she was licking but worked quickly and  thoroughly to clean his dick, running her tongue rapidly up and down, only just managing not to gag on the awful taste.  After what felt like hours with the foul taste of his stained dick in her mouth, Greta pulled sharply on her hair, yanking her away from Hasan so quickly her tongue still stuck out.

“Does it know its place now?” Greta asked.

Holly still had the taste in her mouth but she worked to answer as quickly as possible

“Yes, mistress,” Holly managed, the words now coming so alarmingly easily.

“Worthless cunt.”

Greta clicked her fingers and Mehmet emerged from the shadows with a knife and a dog collar.  He gave the knife to Greta before attaching the dog collar to Holly’s neck, tightening it uncomfortably.  Once he had finished, he pulled hard on the leash, forcing Holly to once again kneel upright.  Greta brought the knife up so Holly was forced to look at it, her eyes widening frantically as she saw its sharpness.  Gleefully Greta traced the tip of the knife down Holly’s body to her bulging tits.  As she brought it across the girl’s battered globes, she savoured Holly’s groans at even the slightest pressure on her tits.  After enjoying it for a while, Greta slipped the knife under the rubber band constricting the girl’s left tit and cut.  The fleshy mound quickly returned to its original shape, the colour slowly turning normal — and Holly shrieked as feeling returned to her breast, all the pain inflicted over the last hours returning with a vengeance.  When her shrieks died to a soft whimper, Greta cut the other band and stepped back, admiring those luscious tits as they bounced freely on her chest once again and enjoying Holly’s renewed cries of pain.  Greta gave one tit a quick squeeze, drawing another whimper, before grabbing the lead.  As the two Turks again disappeared, Greta didn’t say another word before marching forward, forcing the poor girl to crawl quickly to keep up.

The men had rolled out two large wooden items and placed them down just as Greta arrived with Holly.  Hasan opened the first item, a very heavy set of stocks, and before Holly appreciated what was happening, she was forced into it, her head and hands locked in place.  Mehmet then lifted up her hips and the second item, a large wooden block with attached straps, was slid under her stomach.  Quickly he tied a strap over her back then used others to tie her thighs.  Holly was now unable to move and could only look forward while listening to the activity behind her.  Then something pressed against the entrance to her pussy.  Although she tried to evade it, the unknown invader was forced up her hole, its width slightly painful as it was forced deeply in then whatever it was slowly slid out before slamming back in.  Initially Holly thought one of the men was fucking her but the monotonous nature of the phallus indicated something else.

Greta looked on as the two men manoeuvred a wooden frame holding a simple piston with a large black dildo mounted on the end into position behind Holly. A thin duct ran along the top of the rubber cock out of which a lubricating fluid slowly seeped out. Working the dildo into Holly’s pussy, the men stepped back and watched it move inexorably in and out.  Greta smiled slightly as Holly was fucked by the large black cock, its rectangular base slamming hard into her arsecheeks each time.  Greta moved round to a side and watched Holly’s bobbing tits, swinging each time the dick forced its way in.  Moving to Holly’s head, she bent down, her lips just inches from the girl’s ears.

“As it is a filthy slut, I have rewarded it,” Greta whispered menacingly, “it will be fucked constantly until I decide to play with it again.  This is its life from now on; it is a worthless sex toy, a cunt that serves only to please its masters.  It should try to enjoy it, for this is all it is good for.”

With that Greta stood up and walked over to Olivia, tightly stretched on the table, the gauze still stuffed into her mouth.  Greta tapped the side of her head until she looked up.

“As for you, I have been very merciful,” Greta said with faked warmth, “When that pretty little tongue heals, I’ll be playing with you just as much.  Something for you to look forward to.”

After pinching Olivia’s nipple and wiggling her tit, Greta then turned and walked up the stairs, followed by Mehmet and Hasan.  As the sound of her heels slowly faded away, darkness plunged into the room.

                             ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking with a start from her half sleep, Lucy felt something change in the room.  She looked up to see a large screen had emerged from the wall in front of her, split into different individual cameras showing the basement.  One view showed her two friends tied together on the table.  She already knew what she was going to see but knew she had to watch.  And so she watched as Greta and the two men came in, wincing as everything occurred.  As she watched Greta and the two men torture the girls, Lucy was disgusted but she also found her own boredom lessened by a fascinated horror at the sight and sound of their acts.  She yelped as the procedure was done on Olivia, the pain of her friend obvious even through the screen.  But just as Holly began to suck Mehmet’s cock, the alarm went off again, jolting Lucy out of her semi-catatonic state.  For a moment she was not sure what to do but quickly remembered what it meant and reached for the dildo.  Continuing  to look at the screen, she inserted the now familiar phallus into her pussy.  As she moved it in and out, Lucy found the rape of her friend strangely arousing.  As Holly lowered herself onto Mehmet’s dick and her tits were roughly played with, Lucy discovered the images created an impending orgasm much quicker than previously.  She continued till she was right on the edge and then, extremely reluctantly, pulled the dildo out of her pussy.  Still watching the screen, Lucy thought about what had happened.  Although filled with sympathy and desperately sorry for what her friends were enduring, a small part of her somewhat enjoyed it as Hasan sidled behind Holly.  She was filled with shame as she found herself aroused by the suffering of her best friends.  It was as if they had broken her already, everything Lucy had thought true of herself being steadily eroded away.  With her eyes still fixed on the screen, Lucy brought her legs up to her chest and started to weep.

   The smoke from the stubbed out cigarette curled into the air in thin blue wispy tails. As he pored over the documents, the greying detective's sweaty brow furrowed slightly. Years of working on this case had consumed him, costing him his wife, his family, his house and most of his friends. All he had left was work and work was this case. Despite repeated calls from the top to leave it and move on, he kept coming back, obsessively intent on solving it. He woke thinking about it, went to sleep thinking about it, even thought about it while taking a shit. He knew he was a stereotypical detective consumed by a case but the cliché was lost on him. For years it had been a dead end, mysterious disappearances inevitably ending as cold cases, allegations of people trafficking and high level corruption, as well as a distinct lack of interest from his superiors who he thought were supposed to care about cases like these. His drinking and smoking had spiralled out of control in the last couple of years and the few people who still cared about him had been very concerned about his health.

   And now it was back again. That afternoon, Detective Daniel Hanneman had received a call from Berlin about three British schoolgirls missing in Munich. Britain was pressuring German law enforcement to find them and catch those responsible. Given how similar this disappearance was to his many others, his superiors had given him the case, though his district commissioner had seemed curiously uninterested in such a top priority case. Before him were all his files from the previous cases, his laptop open with the files he had just been sent. Lighting another cigarette, he gazed absently at the pictures of the three missing British girls. They fitted the profile of the others he had been looking for; young and gorgeous. He was riled that it took a few precious English bitches to go missing before his superiors were even slightly interested in his work. Still, at least it was finally being taken seriously. Cradling his coffee cup, he took a long drag and contemplated the display in front of him. Another night of very little sleep, searching for some crucial elusive clue.

    There must be something, he thought, to connect the victims. Maybe they had gone somewhere where they were spotted and taken. Ten girls had gone missing in the last two years, all in the same area. Daniel looked at the map he had created, red circles showing the places tourists and young people might go; bars, nightclubs hotels, parks. Looking at the girls’ files and then his map, he spotted something. When the faces of the three girls were published, they had received few calls, mostly from perverts saying what they hoped happened to them. But one claimed to have seen them walking down a street lined with a dozen or so bars, very close to their hotel and in the right area. Daniel cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, probably a result of his lack of sleep over the last few days. He looked at the time – 01:20. If he hurried he could canvass a few places before they closed. It would be more useful than sitting here staring at the same documents for hours on end. Feeling old and a little worse for wear but with a slight spring in his step, Daniel prepared to leave.

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  Examining the two women like cuts of meat or prints of wallpaper, Greta frowned in concentration. Her customer was of many years standing with very specific and very high standards. Though this was one of his less eccentric requests, she was still keen to get it absolutely right and wasn’t rushing her decision. Looking from one female body to the other, she sized them up, her experience picking up details the untrained eye might miss to compare how they stood, their facial expressions, the tone of their muscles, even their nails and haircuts with the requirements. One woman especially troubled her, a tear rolling down its cheek. Without the two naked women, this could have passed for just a normal business meeting, a sharply dressed women in an expensive suit addressing two similarly well dressed men in an office both unremarkable and expensive. But this was clearly a very different encounter. The two men firmly held their charges upright as the stern blonde woman, her  eyes fixed on the body of the woman troubling her, came around the desk for a closer look.

  “Stand her up properly,” Greta snapped at the man holding the woman. He immediately pulled up the woman's arms, forcing her to straighten even more. As the woman stood trembling before her, Greta’s piercing stare traversed every inch of black skin. With a brusque stride designed to instil fear, Greta stalked round her, checking her curves and skin for any blemish that made her unsatisfactory for her client. She ran her hand down the cleft of the woman’s buttocks, her white hand sharply contrasting the deep mahogany of the smooth skin. Her client had requested minimal touching but she had to feel this girl's rump. To almost anyone, the girls were stunningly attractive; slender yet curvy, with toned bodies, proud and pert breasts, unblemished skin and soft but sexy and feminine features. But Greta saw girls like this every day and had to look deeper. Giving a buttock a firm squeeze, she appeared satisfied for she returned to her chair and looked at the paperwork. On receiving the request several weeks ago, she had immediately moved to procure the items for her client. Some extensive searching had delivered results and Greta had narrowed the shortlist to just these two, a black from the Parisian suburbs and an Asian from a boarding school in Macau. In truth it didn’t matter to Greta where they came from, only that they were up to scratch. These two were.

  “Yes, they’ll do just fine,” Greta said without looking at the two men, “send them on.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the two repeated in unison before frogmarching the two women out of the office.

  Greta sat back and relaxed. The stress of this assignment had weighed heavily on her and finally resolving it was a huge relief. She had done her job brilliantly, meeting the request exactly. Admittedly the two she had chosen would have made a welcome addition to her own collection let alone his much smaller but growing one. The girls she had supplied him over the years had been almost exclusively white Europeans and she knew from experience that some diversity was always good. In fact, when her thoughts turned to her own collection, she realised it only had one properly dark one and a few mixed raced ones, though it was well stocked with Asians. To that end she made a diary note to send her scouts to look for some suitable specimens. Returning to the present, she brought up the webcams surveilling the basement and looked with pleasure at each of her new toys. The last few days could hardly have gone better but she was still worried. In a few days she had some very special guests coming, very loyal customers who would expect quality. While the new acquisitions would be perfect for them, Greta was worried they would still be too raw. It was a race against time with none to lose so she switched off the monitor and gathered her things. Another long day. Though not as long as it would be for her new slaves.

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  Lucy was woken this time not by the dreaded alarm clock but by a mechanical click and a whir as the electronic door slowly swung open. The dark corridor meant Lucy couldn't clearly see the figure standing at the entrance. It wasn’t Mehmet or Hasan and though it looked like a woman, something about its elegant posture made her think it wasn’t Greta. She strained to make out the details but soon didn’t have to try when it stepped into the half light of the room. Moving her eyes slowly up from dainty feet to silken black hair, the prone girl’s face was a picture of both surprise and wonder mixed with some fear. Before her was a classic Oriental beauty. The nails of her feet were beautifully maintained and painted a dark shade of vivid red, mounted on a pair of stupendously high heels which shaped her long golden brown legs fabulously or at least the one visible through a long black patterned cheongsam hanging to just below her knee, a large slit in one side running up almost to her hip. Lucy’s eyes continued the long journey up the woman’s elegant body, the figure hugging dress accentuating the athletic body beneath, the tight fabric tantalisingly tracing while concealing the woman’s bosom. Her neck seemed to go on forever, adding to the grace oozing from every pore. Her face was like the most exquisite figure on some priceless Chinese porcelain, her features soft and nuanced but emotionless. With her jet black hair tied delicately, a single jade pin holding the luscious black locks in place, the woman's beauty and sheer presence was mesmerising.

  “Come.”

  Matching the face perfectly, her voice was practiced and graceful, almost concealing an accent just hinted at. Then in one fluid movement, the woman turned and left, only her perfume lingering in the dark room. Lucy hesitated. She and her friends had experienced nothing but horror in this wretched place and she expected this to be no different. That she hadn’t yet been personally tortured by this woman didn’t mean that she would not be. But despite misgivings, Lucy knew disobeying gained nothing. So, staggering to her feet, the lack of sleep and physical exertions of the last few days making her weak and stiff, she followed the exotic visitor's perfumed trail. Her walk was ungainly, the prolonged masturbating of the last few hours making her pussy lips red and sore. She crossed one arm over her chest and placed the other at her crotch, trying to protect what little modesty she had. Turning the corner, Lucy saw the woman standing at the end of the corridor, amazed at how fast she covered the ground, her eyes beckoning the stumbling girl to hurry. And Lucy did, her long legs feeling like lead weights as she pushed herself down the stone hall. When she caught up, the oriental beauty silently opened a door to her right and glided through, Lucy silently following. As the woman moved effortlessly up some stone steps, Lucy paused then wearily climbed, hoping for only a short flight given her stiffness. Still covering herself and with a bowed head, Lucy's mind swam in an ocean of memories of what had been and fears for what was to come.

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   Tied in very different positions, the two girls in the basement felt their hours go very slow indeed. The stone walls echoed with the rhythm of the machine oscillating in and out of Holly, punctuated by the two victims' intermittent groans of pain and shame. Like a beast grumbling in its sleep, the mechanical sound made the total blackness even more terrifying. But the girls weren’t interested in how their torture chamber sounded, focussed as they were on the pain racking their bodies and the fear and depression consuming their minds.

   Olivia tried to keep quiet to avoid irritating her new wound which, though she didn’t know it, had been so expertly done as to heal quickly. Unluckily for her. The original sharp excruciating agony was now just a dull ache that only sharpened when she involuntarily moved her mouth. And it wasn’t just her mouth that ached. The abuse of the last few days had made her whole body so sore that she  groaned each time it twitched. Her breasts were bruised from being squeezed and twisted, one nipple in particular a swollen red. Her pussy was in continual pain. Her brutal rape when they first woke had been painful enough but each time she had been tortured there made it worse. But what hurt more than the physical pain was the psychological torment of knowing there was no immediate escape. She had already been forced to degrade herself and, being somewhat streetwise, knew very well the reason for her latest mutilation. She had watched enough porn, seen enough pictures on the internet and heard enough people talking to know why Greta wanted her to have a longer tongue. Olivia tried her best not to think about what the future held but she simply couldn’t shake the terror gripping her. Only by blanking her mind could she hold back the tears.

   Across the room Holly was an even more sorry case. She could only whimper even if the machine's  mechanical clunking, rhythmically pounding her red raw pussy, drowned out the sound. Having not been fucked at all in her first eighteen years, she had now been fucked almost continuously for the last four hours. In truth she had lost track of time, the sound of her automated rapist fading into the background. For what hurt most was not the constant battering of her buttocks which bruised her  with every impact but, oddly, that she had cum many times. She had tried not to but having been roundly fucked for hours she was completely unable to stop it, each orgasm coming quicker and quicker, her pussy now as slick as an oil spill from both the lube being squirted out the top of the rubber dildo and her own juices which were pooling on the floor beneath her. Her whole body shook with each climax, the wave of pleasure receding to be instantly replaced with the underlying pain of her much abused body. Each orgasm was only minor, the monotonous fucking stimulating her slowly and methodically, but the constant stimulation was as emotionally draining as the subsequent pain. At first she had almost enjoyed it as a rare moment of pleasure in an ocean of pain. Although a virgin  before entering this basement of horrors, Holly was no stranger to an orgasm. But the machine's constant brutal fucking while bound and restrained was very different to the tender touch of her own fingers in her comfy bed at home. She soon dreaded each orgasm as it steadily forced her to associate pleasure with pain. Worse was the throbbing agony of her mountainous breasts, now just globes of pain, so bruised that they hurt even without being touched. But with her head and arms firmly clamped in heavy wooden stocks, her heaving breasts were forced to slap the hard wood, causing even more pain to her magnificent chest. Although the sound of her giant mounds thudding into the stocks was quiet compared with the other sounds in the cellar, her whimper at each impact was audible and now did nothing to relieve her misery. And the intense heat she felt inside her latex bodysuit caused so much sweat to pour off her that, combined with her tears and pussy juices, it had shrunk slightly, adding yet more discomfort. Racked with pain, Holly felt like an animal in an intensive farm just waiting to be slaughtered. And, she suspected, her torment wouldn’t end soon.

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     An amber glow lit the metal forest of bowing machines stretching to the distant horizon of a desert landscape. The white haired man knew the view but it still made him smile as he rubbed his swollen belly. Jeremiah spent little time there now but having the photograph on his office wall  reminded him how his fortune had started. All that black gold beneath the surface allowed him to sit here in $10,000 snakeskin boots in a room furnished with the most expensive trappings money could buy. It wasn’t the best thing about his wealth and influence though. With a groan of pleasure, he looked down at the blonde head bobbing up and down on his erect prick. Placing his right hand on the back of her head, he pushed down, forcing the girl to gag as his cock slipped down her throat. Despite her training she still needed work, her struggle at deep throating him needing more practise. Three weeks he’d had the clever little college girl and despite his best efforts she still wasn’t pleasing him as he expected. It would take time but he was sure he’d get her there eventually. Certainly with Greta Schweinberg’s help, he would turn her into a good little sex slave in no time.

  Still, he had to admit she had come a long way from when he had first got her. All those trips to Germany had whetted his appetite and with Greta’s instructions he had set about getting his own little plaything. When he’d seen this one, he’d known she was perfect. It had been easy to give her the internship. When she woke in his basement, her face had been a picture, her shock and fear a permanent memory. He had thoroughly enjoyed taking the little slut down, her Harvard education doing nothing to stop his whips, his restraints or his dick. He’d fucked her every which way, using her in ways she couldn’t possibly have imagined, causing her pain beyond her wildest nightmares. Of course there’d been an investigation, a trivial matter since his army of lawyers did not allow the police anywhere near him. So while people still looked for this bit of skirt, she had her mouth full of his engorged prick, his glans slipping deep into her throat. Six minutes in and he felt restless, the feeling of her hot moist tongue on his sensitive penis one of life’s great gifts. Standing up, he grabbed her head with both hands as the girl continued to bob up and down his shaft. Without warning he slid his cock from her mouth, enjoying how she still reached out, eager to please him or at least to avoid punishment. With just the tip of his dick inside the cavern of pleasure that was her mouth, Jeremiah thrust forward, slamming his cock against the back of her throat. If her technique was better he would have let her finish him off by herself but he wanted to fuck her pretty little face.

  “Look up, you stupid whore,” the Texan bellowed at the girl, “Remember I wanna see those eyes.”

  Continuing to thrust forward and back, he swept her hair to one side to gaze into her eyes as he face-fucked her. The girl looked up, her mouth open like an obedient dog, her long eyelashes perfectly framing some stunning sapphire blue eyes that glinted in the light, silently crying for help.  Looking down, he was sure she knew by now he wouldn’t show her any mercy, pounding his dick forward and back, his big round belly occasionally obscuring that picture perfect face. Tightly gripping her hair in his hands, he threw his head back in pleasure, the brutal mouth rape filling the room with gagging as he pumped his dick in and out of her.

  Having done everything to give him pleasure, Melissa now just knelt and allowed her mouth to be used as a sex toy. She had experienced this a lot over the last three weeks but was still not used to it. It was impossible to believe this could happen to anyone in the 21st century, especially in the United States. Thinking back further, she tried to remember her life before this suffering. On her application for the generously paid internship, she had felt her life was fantastic. A high achieving student at a prestigious college with a great group of friends, a loving supporting family, a clever boyfriend who was also a very good looking varsity track and field athlete - and then she had got a sought after position in a major corporation, her future life the envy of many contemporaries. Yet all that was gone. One moment she was having coffee with the head of the company and the next she had woken bound and helpless in a dark basement. In the days since, he had raped, tormented, tortured, humiliated and destroyed her, taking away all sense of self worth. Though determined to escape, she knew she would have to bide her time while obeying him as much as possible to avoid his various tortures and punishments. What depressed her most, though, was how arbitrary his torments were. Even complete obedience, doing everything he asked, did not stop him causing her unimaginable pain, her screams of agony and tears of anguish seemingly music to his ears. Being very attractive, she could at least understand why this fat old man would want to fuck her over and over but that did not explain the terrible tortures he gleefully inflicted or why he spoke to her like she was vermin. She could only wait, hoping someone would eventually rescue her from this living hell.

  Jeremiah didn’t care what the little bitch thought as he rammed his dick down her throat. All he cared about right now was how her mouth around his dick pushed him closer and closer to climax. With a large groan, he forced his cock down her throat until it was buried right up to the hilt, enjoying the sound of her choking on his dick. His whole body shuddering, both hands forced the girl’s face hard into his crotch as he came, moaning loudly, shooting wads of his jizz down the girl’s spluttering throat and feeling her muscles convulsing around his cock as she tried desperately to breathe, swallowing what she could of his cum just to get some air. He listened as she coughed and spluttered on his cum, laughing as she fought desperately for air. He waited until he was sure she would be frantic with panic before he moved his hips back and allowed the girl some precious oxygen. A thick strand of cum stretched from the tip of his steadily softening cock to her dainty little mouth and more seed dribbled out of her mouth and onto her chin. She coughed again, bringing up more of his viscous discharge from her throat into her mouth. But Jeremiah was not happy.

   “Don’t you dare cough that up,” he snarled, the pleasure of his orgasm now replaced by the pleasure of watching her degrade herself, “swallow every last drop. And be grateful, you little bitch.”

   Melissa averted her eyes as she swallowed the semen, barely able to hide her disgust. She knew by now that she could only avoid further punishment by swallowing every last morsel of his cum. With her hands tied behind her, she had to use her tongue to swish around her chin to collect all she could. But even when she had, her ordeal did not end. The stubby finger of her tormentor ran across her face as if she were a child in a high chair, collecting all the spunk she couldn't reach and scooping it into her mouth. Humiliatingly, Melissa had to suck his finger clean of the cum he had collected, trying not to cough as he forced his index finger and then his middle finger deep into her mouth. He squeezed the end of his dick to milk the last of his cum onto his fingers then once again forced them into her mouth, thrusting them back and forth like a pseudo phallus.

    “That’s it,” Jeremiah smirked, “I bet you’ve developed quite a taste for cum now, you filthy whore. Show me that it’s all gone.”

   With a heavy heart, Melissa steadily looked up at her captor, unsuccessfully attempting to hide her shame. Reluctantly she opened her mouth until eventually she stared up at him with her mouth gaping, her tongue stretched down to her chin. She felt like a dog performing for her owner, an analogy that wasn’t at all erroneous. She stared up at the man’s wrinkled lecherous face as he brought his hand down and tilted her face from side to side, checking every last crevice of her mouth. Seemingly satisfied, he stood up, still looking down expectantly at the kneeling girl.

  “Come on, bitch,” he said with a flash of anger on his face, “show your fucking gratitude!”

   Melissa closed her eyes, ready to feel yet another act of humiliation. She couldn’t decide which was the worst; the frequent sexual abuse he inflicted, the constant physical pain he caused or the psychological torment he used to steadily erode her self esteem. They were all terrible beyond imagining and yet she didn’t need to imagine, they were happening. What made it worse was his appetite seemed to have no end for he continued to plumb new depths of despair that Melissa was constantly surprised she had. Her steely resolve to escape and bring him to justice was eroding under the chilling thought that the rest of her life might be spent as this lecherous fat man’s captive.  Back in the present, Melissa mentally sighed and said what he expected as if reading from a script.

   “Thank you for your cum, master.”

   “You’re welcome, slave,” Jeremiah replied, “Have you forgotten something?”

  With another mental sigh, Melissa leant forward and with a delicacy that never failed to please Jeremiah, kissed the end of his cock, now hanging limply against his sagging scrotum. In her previous life, she would never have gone anywhere near this man’s dick but now she had little choice but to virtually worship it. It was scarcely believable how far she’d fallen in just a short time, from a successful and ambitious young woman to nothing more than a sexual slave.

  “Good girl.” Jeremiah said patronisingly, patting his slave on the head to reinforce her subordination, “Stand up!”

   He barked this last command at her, the transition between his tones shocking despite Melissa  having grown to expect such raw anger from him. She obeyed immediately, struggling to her feet despite not being able to use her hands by spreading her legs slightly and putting out one high heeled foot. Pausing to compose herself, she pushed up, rising quickly but unsteadily to both feet, using all her strength to raise herself off the floor. Tottering violently from side to side, she tried to stand up straight and still, desperate to avoid his wrath. The ridiculously tall high heels he had her wear were incredibly difficult to stand still on and she teeter-tottered like a new born gazelle as she stood in front of him, waiting nervously for what he would have her do next.

   Jeremiah watched his captive struggle to control herself on the stripper heels he made her wear. Six inches high, they made her slightly taller than him but only because he let her. Anything she did was only because he allowed it. He couldn't believe he had lived so long without such direct physical power over another person. Moving back to sit on the edge of his desk, his eyes never left the girl standing uncertainly before him, trying to recall another woman so gloriously attractive. Everything about her was a teenage boy’s wet dream; long shapely legs, a tight arse, a toned flat stomach, dainty hands and feet, a face to melt hearts and eyes that, for Jeremiah at least, were made to be filled with fear. But her crowning glories were her breasts. When she had entered his office a month ago, his eyes had been irresistibly drawn to the mounds her crisp white shirt tried in vain to conceal. It had been all he could do not to leer at them while the stuck up bitch talked shit and it was the first job interview he had ever done with a raging hard on. After she left, he knew he would have to get his hands on those luscious tits, jacking himself off as he thought about squeezing his face between them. He had been ecstatic when seeing them free of their fabric prison, each one almost an archetype of  the perfect breast. Although from a distance her tits seemed only slightly above average on her tall slender athletic body, hands-on inspection proved this untrue. Checking her bra size confirmed that he had his very own pair of DDs to play with. And play with them he had. Over the weeks, he had slapped them, twisted them, bound them, flogged them, slid his dick between them and inflicted on them all manner of other tortures and torments. Anything he could think to do with those globes he had done, the more pain he caused the better. And now he had another idea.

   Although she had tried not to think about the pain she was in, she was acutely aware of the old man’s lecherous stare as it angrily focussed on her. Despite her blank face attempting to deny her tormentor pleasure, he was certain her body was screaming in pain, especially her much abused tits. With her arms tied behind her back and her elbows tied tightly together, her tits were thrust out invitingly and he had adorned them appropriately. Running along the length of her torso were two leather straps passing on either side of her tits, forcing them together and culminating in one strap at her belly button. A thin strip of leather emanated from there between her pussy lips and along the crack of her arse, up her back before connecting with the rest of the mankini style outfit at her back. Each perfect pink nipple sported a vicious clamp, biting each  sensitive nub with serrated teeth and the rest of her sensitive globes were pinched by many specialised spring-loaded "clothes" pegs. Melissa’s tits had long since gone numb so they didn’t cause her pain but there was a tingling undertone to the painful clamps on her nipples. And she had been forced to walk round with the strap rubbing her sensitive sex all day, the leather rubbing her pussy lips raw. The current tortures added to the aches and pains of the previous few weeks, keeping her whole body in constant pain.

   “OK, bitch,” Jeremiah said as he dressed, “go stand in the fucking corner. Just a few more things to sort out then we can head off. We’ll get you properly trained over there.”

   Melissa didn’t know what he meant when he mentioned over there. Everything was still a shock and she tried to keep her thoughts from running away from her. Slowly, carefully, she stumbled over to the corner, facing the wall so as not to distract her captor from his work. She used to pride herself on being strong and independent but now this intelligent beautiful young woman stood in a corner, naked, bound, tortured ... and began to weep.

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    The smell hit Lucy as she walked through the door behind the elegant Asian. Having smelt little but sweat, tears and fear over the last few days, the overpowering aroma of incense and sensual oils was very welcome, the strength physically taking her aback. In front of her was a vivid red curtain emblazoned with a golden dragon. Behind it Lucy heard the sound of Eastern music overlain by the occasional sounds of both men and women howling in apparent ecstasy. As her senses were overwhelmed, she stopped in her tracks, causing the woman in front of her to turn and narrow her sultry hazel eyes. It was enough to stir almost fear in Lucy who without thinking started walking again, hobbling slightly, behind the black cheongsam. With amazing elegance, a long olive arm reached out and brushed aside the silk curtain hanging from the ceiling.

  As she followed, stumbling through the room, Lucy could scarcely believe her eyes, the pace of her tour seemingly slowed to allow her to take it in. On all sides were colours she had almost forgotten when in the basement; red, gold, green, blue and royal purple. The scent she smelt on the other side of the curtain was now far more powerful, burning candles on all sides filling the room with the sweet smell of a Turkish bath house. But what got her attention the most was not the smell or the candles. In alcoves along the corridor, sheer curtains of fabric scarcely hid scenes straight out of an adult film, all manner of sex was in plain view: one man and one woman, two men and a woman, two, three, four women and a man; all possible variations seemed on offer. The variety was extraordinary too, from plain sex to astounding combinations of domination and submission, especially given the apparent willingness of the participants. Clearly it was not merely a crazed trio who had taken the three girls but some much larger and much more sinister operation. A click of the woman's fingers stopped her from gawping too long, snapping her from her dazed almost trance like state and making her stumble quickly to keep up. Seeing the end of the corridor, she wondered what new bizarre scenes lay beyond. As the woman brushed it aside, Lucy was almost disappointed.

   Beyond was another dark corridor, much less impressive than the room of sexual delicacies she had just traversed. So engrossed in the sex scenes all around her, Lucy had failed to spot this main entrance despite its grand nature, a heavy set crimson wooden door again emblazoned with a large golden dragon which the clients exited and entered from. But behind the scenes was a dark and dingy space more like what she had experienced in captivity. Silently the elegant figure leading Lucy continued walking then turned left to open a heavy wooden door. Lucy had to scamper to get through for she knew it would not be held open ... and was taken aback by what she saw. Bathed in the light of many candles whose smells wafted exquisitely toward her, she could see deep red walls flickering in the candlelight. In the centre, a large porcelain bath was plumed in steam. It was an unbelievable sight and her instincts told her not to expect that the freshly run bath was for her. She stood, awaiting instructions. The dark-haired woman turned to face Lucy, her eyes expressing no emotion at all and a piercing stare captured Lucy’s attention as she stooped low, attempting to cover her body, a far cry from the proud confident girl of just a few days before.

  “You are very lucky,” she spoke, her practised English oozing grace and elegance. The woman could see the young English woman distrusted a statement she believed so obviously untrue, so she continued, “Mistress has chosen you. You will not be like many of the girls that come through these doors; a piece of meat for all those old men to fuck and torture.”

   Lucy knew the woman was talking about her friends. Clearly what she had seen on television when forced to fuck herself with the dildo had been a glimpse into their future, especially given the scale of the operation that had captured them. Far from being kidnapped for the sick twisted enjoyment of a deranged woman and her obedient lust filled sidekicks, she realised they were the newest additions to some underground international sex slave ring. It was like something in an airport novel  or some sick and twisted movie. Except that Lucy knew it was totally real. She listened to what she was hearing but her mind wandered, bleakly grappling with their hopeless situation.

   “Instead you will work here,” the woman said with a clinical coldness, “with others who have been chosen. Your job is to please clients any way they like. You will also have the opportunity to assist Mistress and the clients as they have their fun. You will learn everything you need to be successful.”

  Lucy was staggered by this but was relieved at what she was avoiding. As bad as she felt for her friends, she was relieved not to be perpetually subject to what she had felt and seen in that dungeon. It was almost as if, even this early, she was accepting her fate and learning to enjoy her new surroundings. She felt terrible thinking it but felt some pride in being picked out as special. And though she felt guilty about her friends, she was pleased to escape the dungeon. She was so relieved she wouldn’t be bent over and fucked with clamps on her nipples or whatever that she completely missed being expected to help  torturing girls just like them.

  “First you must be bathed and scented,” the woman continued, “then we can begin.”

   With that, the elegant woman ushered her toward the steaming tub. Looking at it, Lucy's mind raced, feeling as if she were betraying her friends by accepting this hospitality, giving her captors a legitimacy they didn’t deserve. Yet the water was so inviting and the stench she gave off as well as the smell of sex from her genitals was obvious. One tentative step at a time, she inched toward the bathtub, each step feeling like a silent betrayal. Closing her eyes, Lucy thought about what she was doing, the magnetic attraction of the water part of accepting the situation she was in. But the combination of her discomfort and fear of refusing made her move inexorably towards it. The scent of jasmine wafted tantalisingly as she approached the side of the white porcelain tub, her eyes opening enough to see rose petals littering the water's surface. It was a luxurious ablution Lucy hadn’t been used to even when free. Approaching the first step, she slowly raised her foot and put it down. Her legs ached something ferocious and the water pulled her irresistibly. Moving faster, she scaled the steps until level with the water's surface then took a deep breath and stepped forward.

   As the water lapped her ankle, Lucy sighed. She had almost forgotten how wonderful warm water caressing her skin felt, the added bath oils giving her skin a silky kiss. She felt positively orgasmic as she sank into the water, the heat so intense she only just tolerated it. Just magical. Lucy could only  smile at the pleasure she felt in steadily lowering herself into the steaming water. For a moment she tried to forget the situation and just enjoy the bath, knowing it could disappear back into a world of shame and pain at any moment. Sinking deep into the bath, the water lapping around her neck, Lucy slid down and closed her eyes then slid further and submerged her head, floating away into a dream world and momentarily escaping from the hell she was in.

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   Greta’s steps on the staircase signalled the beginning of the next session of torture for the other two victims. But over the din in the basement, neither Holly nor Olivia heard the click clack of the heels on the hard stone steps and did not realise their next session of pain and humiliation was imminent. Greta chose to keep the lights off, preserving her entrance to maximise the girls' surprise and fear. Despite the dark, she knew the number of steps, surefootedly striding down. As much as it was essential to run her operation as a business, she enjoyed spending time down here the most. It would be fantastic to see how her little pets had endured the night. Already she could hear the rhythmic clunking of the mechanical dildo pounding into the abused pussy of the big titted cow she had so much enjoyed torturing. Seeing her broken little bitch locked in those stocks would be fantastic, as would squeezing those ridiculous melons with her talon like claws. Then there was the delight of the soon to be expert cunt licker who she had let off lightly so far. There was plenty of time to have her fun with the pint sized princess though; it wasn’t as if she lacked for toys. So while it was a chamber of horrors for the two English schoolgirls, it was a palace of pleasure for Greta. Stepping off the final step, she walked slowly across the floor.

  The sounds were as magical as the sights that would soon greet her. As she drifted slowly across the floor, she listened intently to the room's myriad noises. The loudest noise was a rhythmic bumping that sounded like a washing machine. But the real music to Greta’s ears were the quieter sounds, the moans and whimpers of the two abused girls as they suffered the indignities she had forced on them. Olivia’s muffled groans were the pick of them and Greta stood listening, her ear right next to the poor girl’s mouth, smiling as she savoured the audible evidence of her pain. Greta’s practiced persona was to express no emotion and smiling was a rare treat. In the darkness she could have a bit of fun, the element of surprise adding another twist to the girl’s torture. Fingers primed, Greta reached out and with a wide smirk, gripped Olivia’s left tit hard, digging her talons into the soft pliant flesh and listening as her whimpers grow louder. Like a conductor with an orchestra, Greta experimented, trying to change the sounds coming from her muffled mouth. With her fingers pinching the soft pink flesh of her sensitive nipple, Greta listened to a muffled yelp which grew louder and higher pitched as the nub was roughly twisted, her sharp nails digging in relentlessly.

   Were her mouth not full of bandages, Olivia would have screamed her lungs out as Greta’s long nails bit into her nipple. At first she had thought she was having a heart attack such was the sudden and ferocious pain in her chest. It wasn’t until fingers twisted her areola that she realised one of her tormentors had returned to increase her misery. As her nipple was twisted like a perverse dial, Olivia squealed like a pig, the gauze in her mouth allowing only a whine. Though she had tried to keep her noises to a minimum for hours, she could do nothing now since the pain was so intense. Wriggling did nothing as she firmly strapped in and she could only squeal again as Greta’s other hand assaulted the teen’s other breast, violently twisting both nipples with relish. Olivia arched her back in pain as Greta tugged on her tits in the darkness. As she tried to muffle her screams, Olivia heard unmistakeable laughter coming from the figure above her. It was still shocking that somebody could get so much enjoyment from the pain of another human being. As her tits were brutally pulled and twisted, Olivia squealed once again, her nipples feeling like they were being pulled off her chest. Then as suddenly as it had begun, the abuse of her tits ended.

   “Lights!”

    And now Olivia saw the face of her tormentor, a woman who not only had her raped and tortured but had cut and physically maimed her, standing above her in the same leather dominatrix outfit from the first time she had woken in this hell hole. It was all so horrible and, as she looked helplessly at the grinning face of evil above her, Olivia couldn’t help but weep.

   “Quit crying,” Greta spat, her smile replaced with violent rage, “or I’ll cut your fucking clit off.”

    With that chilling threat, Greta walked round the table, inspecting Olivia’s slight but shapely frame. She had a great figure and Greta knew she would explore it more over the next few days, especially that lovely long tongue of hers. And her firm bouncy tits were exquisite, she thought, unusual on such a small girl. Although Holly’s melons took the prize for the trio's best boobs, the bouncing tits on this cute bubbly cunt were certainly worth an honourable mention. Plenty of clients would go crazy over them, making excellent toys for them to play and punish her with. Giving them a squeeze, she trailed her long nails down her victim's toned tummy, eventually reaching her crotch. Feeling a rough stubble, she made a note to order her toys shaved. Finally she reached the girl’s pussy, still red and looking very sore. Her fingers ran over the delicate pussy lips of the suffering girl before slipping inside the tight chute of her cunt. Greta wanted to make very clear how helpless the little bitch was and how she could do anything she wanted to any part of her body. It was a beautiful little cunt as well, pink but with pronounced lips and a lovely tight hole. Greta had really struck the mother load with this haul; three tight babes, each gorgeous in their own individual way. And English speaking was a big bonus. Just thinking of what she would personally do to their young lithe bodies over the next few days made Greta wet. Continuing to work her fingers in and out of Olivia’s snatch, she thought about it, barely registering the grip of Olivia's pussy on her long well manicured fingers. But when she felt the girl’s natural reaction to secrete her juices over her fingers, Greta stopped;  she did not want Olivia enjoying herself. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she licked them clean, savouring the taste of her young pussy juices. It was time, she thought, to attend to the other victim.

   “Hasan,” Greta shouted up the stairs, his footsteps clattering on the heels of her voice, “sort out her bandages, have her fed and clean her up.”

   Leaving Olivia to Hasan, Greta walked slowly to the helpless girl in the stocks. Her hatred for what  Holly represented was visceral and watching the cunt humiliated was fantastic for the bitter German. Hearing footsteps, Holly looked to see if Greta had anything to cause her more pain, her doe like brown eyes filling with tears, both from the pain she was in and from anticipating more horrific torture. Greta knew her innocent little slave's thoughts and acted to intensify them, fixing her gaze with a menacing and rage filled stare which made her vengeful smile even more alien. Walking slowly, she made Holly rigid with fear, her utter helplessness only intensifying the situation. Holly couldn’t tear her eyes away from the approaching dominatrix. Greta knelt, her face inches from the helpless girl's tear stained latex cheeks, and inquired with faux sympathy.

   “How did it enjoy its night of being fucked?” Greta asked, as sympathetic as a mother speaking to her child and stroking Holly’s face, “did it cum again and again?”

   Greta waited, unsure whether Holly realised her mistress expected an answer. Holly looked straight into her tormentor's eyes, trying in vain to see anything she could use to appeal to the woman’s humanity. As her mouth was ungagged, she thought briefly about pleading for clemency but quickly dismissed it; this woman had no mercy. Numb, Holly could only stare vacantly at the woman who took so much pleasure torturing her and who now spoke to her as something lower than an animal.

  SMACK!!!!

  “Answer me, cunt!” Greta snapped, striking a fierce blow to Holly’s latex clad cheeks, the sound and her piercing screech ringing around the room, “Did it enjoy itself?”

   “Yes, mistress,” Holly said after composing herself, not daring to wait for another vicious slap.

  “Did its cunt get wet as it got fucked?”

  “Yes, mistress.”

   “Did it cum over and over?” Greta persisted with the patronising tone.

  “Yes, mistress”

     “What does it say then? Or is it an ungrateful cunt?”

   “Sorry, thank you, mistress.”

    “Better,” Greta said, shaping as if about to stand before acting as if she had forgotten something and squatting back down again, “Hold on. Remind me, did I say it was allowed to cum?”

  Holly’s eye shot open wide at this question as she tried desperately to remember exactly what had been said to her when she had been left. She remembered how roughly she had been put into position and that Greta had said something about her being a ‘filthy slut’ who was to be rewarded. Did that mean she had been allowed to cum? It wasn’t like she had had a choice; being fucked like that for so long would have forced any girl to an orgasm regardless of how they resisted. Surely Greta hadn’t expected her to not cum at all during the ordeal?

  “I…,” Holly stammered as she flicked it over in her mind, desperate to find words that would spare her whatever the punishment was for disobeying, “I don’t kn… remember mistress, I…”

  The sound of slapped latex again filled the room and again Holly screeched.  Scrunching her face into a snarl, Greta bent closer to the shiny black rubber of Holly’s face to interrogate her further.

   “No!” Greta screamed at Holly from inches away, “It is not ‘I’, ‘me’ or whatever its fucking name was before anymore! It is a worthless fucking cunt! So answer my question; did I say it could cum!?”

  Holly knew she had no choice but to give in to Greta’s ridiculous demands. She had not been given explicit permission to cum, of that she was now sure, but she was also sure she had had no choice but to. She had forgotten that Greta was not interested in what was fair or even physically possible. Instead, Holly realised, she would invent arbitrary rules the girls would inevitably break just so they could be punished for the enjoyment of these sick bastards. Knowing now that irrespective of what she said, she would have to endure yet more terrible pain, Holly braced herself before answering.

  “No, mistress,” she spluttered, trying to fight back tears.

  “No?” Greta asked with faux surprise, “But it said it did cum. Many times. Did it forget it must ask permission before it can cum?”

   “But…mistress it…”

  “Did it forget that it doesn’t own its own body anymore?”

   “No, mistress. But…”

  “So if it knew it hadn’t been given permission to cum, why did it cum so much?”

   “Mistress, it was imposs…”

   “Is it that much of a whore it can’t control whether it cums or not?”

   “Sorry, mistress, please it wasn’t…” Holly said, tears streaming down her black cheeks as she tried desperately to avoid the now inevitable punishment. She was cut off by another vicious blow to her face, flooding her vision with stars. Standing, Greta walked round the restrained girl, exploiting the dizziness she had created to confuse her victim. She inspected the rear of her toy, enjoying the pool of pussy juice on the floor beneath the bitch’s battered cunt. Seeing her tits slam against the wooden stock holding her head and arms, she hoped it had made those big udders even more sore and sensitive. When Greta switched off the dildo causing Holly’s forbidden orgasms, the phallus eased slowly to a halt, finishing half embedded in her pretty pink cunt. Swinging one leg over Holly's straight back, Greta sat down directly above the wooden block supporting her lower body, riding her like an animal and reinforcing the idea of the girl as not human. Bending forward slightly, Greta reached beneath Holly’s torso and eagerly grabbed the hanging globes. Squeezing the mounds of soft flesh, she pressed her own cunt into Holly’s back, feeling a shudder of pain run down her  spine. She had known the bitch’s melons would be sensitive but the reaction enthralled her and she couldn’t wait to inflict yet more punishment on those fat tits.

   “Right, cunt,” Greta said, her fingers still kneading the pliant flesh of Holly’s tits, “as it is a whore which cannot be trusted to control itself, it must not be rewarded with any more stimulation. What should be done about your disobedience, cunt?”

  Greta emphasised the need for answer by almost immediately sinking her nails into each breast, almost breaking the skin with her sharpened talons. Holly whined in pain but managed to squeeze out what she thought Greta wanted to hear.

  “It should be punished, mistress,” she said through gritted teeth, not just at the humiliating nature of what she had to say but from the searing pain ripping through each bruised breast.

   “Say ‘this cunt should be punished, mistress’,” Greta said, relaxing her grip slightly as Holly obeyed her commands.

  “This cunt should be punished, mistress.”

  “I agree, Tits,” Greta said, the name she had given the bitch early on just coming back to her, “but how should such selfish disobedience by such a worthless slutty whore be punished?”

     “I…it should be…,” Holly struggled to get something out. How was she supposed to choose her own punishment? How could she choose which part of her body would suffer what pain next? Not only could she not imagine choosing to suffer from pain but she was certain that whatever she suggested would be dismissed and be a cause of further punishment. She couldn’t win and with her body already racked with pain, she was numbly reluctant to heap yet more misery on herself.

    “Hurry, cunt,” Greta said, once again sinking her nails into those luscious mounds, making Holly whine once again, “or does it not want to please its masters?”

   “Yes mistress,” Holly said quickly through the pain, knowing that was exactly what Greta wished to hear, “but it doesn’t know how to be punished.”

  Holly thought this answer would appease Greta as it accepted that her role was to please her masters at all times. But she was still far too proud to fully please her evil mistress. Perhaps if she had asked her punishment to be chosen for her, if she had said how worthless she was and how she was not worthy to choose her own punishment. Perhaps if she had begged to have her tits beaten with thin wooden rods, if she had begged for her pussy to be stretched by the most gigantic dildo or clamoured to have all her nails ripped out one by one while she screamed at the top of her voice, she would have been given her wish and spared any surprises. But nothing Holly could do would  spare her any pain for Greta was having too much fun even though her time with these wonderful girls was much shorter than she would have liked. It was the same with every new catch and unfortunately it always seemed too short. Once she had them working for her, she would get precious little time to play with them; when their clients had finished with them, they would likely need a rest period and even when available she would be busy with new toys. A pity but that was  how it had to be if she was to keep this rare bastion of the depraved up to her high standards. But as she squeezed the fabulous soft flesh of Holly’s suffering tits, she knew it would be particularly difficult to give up this one. Many had breasts as big as this, indeed some even bigger, but few if any were as symmetrical, round, bouncy or perfectly formed as this little English bitch. She had thought to keep this one as her own personal toy but needed her for a very special client. Perhaps later she’d have the big titted slave for her own. Meanwhile she would squeeze as much sadistic pleasure out of these mounds as possible, mentally recording the screams and screeches to remember later.

   “That is a shame, Tits,” Greta said with a broad smile as she roughly massaged the heavy globes in her hands, “if it had devised its own punishment, its generous mistress would have carried it out, even if it was lenient. Even if it had only asked its mistress to tickle its toes that is what I would have done. But because it is a lazy useless cunt, I will have to decide on a punishment. It will not be pleasant, cunt. First though we need to do something to these fucking udders.”

   With that, Greta looked at Hasan who had finished examining Olivia's mouth. Obeying silently, Hasan yelled out something the girls didn’t understand, the bark of Turkish words echoing harshly around the room. Shortly after, Mehmet entered, dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and carrying a small refrigerated box. Saying nothing, he approached the sobbing girl and the gleeful dominatrix. Placing the box beside Holly with his eyes fixed on the pendulous breasts encased in Greta’s grasping hands, he felt very lucky to have had those massive tits in his hands just once. And yet more chances to squeeze them and plunge deep into her various orifices were in the offing.

   As Greta opened the small container, a layer of cold air fell over its sides into the basement's slightly warmer air. When Mehmet handed her some thin latex gloves, on a whim, the German stretched them and flicked Holly’s tits a few times, just to draw a small wince from the girl she sat astride. With them on, Greta reached into the icy box and pulled out a large plastic syringe, frosted on the outside, with a long metal spike through which the cloudy liquid inside would be injected. Putting  the syringe at the base of Holly’s right tit, Greta was set to plunge it in when she paused. What was she thinking? How could she not panic the bitch by showing her the needle that would be pushed deep into her tit flesh? With a wry smile, Greta swung her leg over the girl’s back and walked to her front again. Bending over and still smiling, she slowly showed Holly the terrifying syringe dripping with a mysterious liquid. When she saw it, Holly screamed and shook violently from side to side, drawing laughter from her three tormentors, her wriggling doing nothing to loosen her restraints. Not knowing what was in it made Holly more scared of the syringe than the other implements she had been tortured with. Forgetting its previous futility, she began to plead.

   “Please, mistress,” Holly cried desperately, tears streaming down her face, “please don’t hurt…use that thing…please mistress this…this cunt begs…”

   A familiar sound filled the room as Greta again slapped Holly hard. The blow was so powerful it almost knocked her unconscious, her eyes rolling briefly into the back of her head. Even Greta was surprised by the force of the strike even if she was glad to have caused such pain. In truth the slap was backed by real anger, for she was growing tired of the pathetic mewling that was all the tied up cow seemed capable of. At least before when they had been gagged she hadn’t been forced to hear the self pitying crap these stuck up English girls constantly spewed.

    “Shut the fuck up, cunt,” Greta said, her anger spilling into her voice, “it never tells me what to do. It only begs for what I tell it to. Now it better hold still whilst I stick this into its tit.”

   Constantly looking into her captive's eyes, Greta then slowly slid the needle into the meat of Holly’s right tit, knowing how painful the thick needle would be. Once buried to the hilt, she injected the liquid deep into her tit flesh. Her eyes never leaving those beautiful brown saucers encased in shining black, she removed the needle and handed it to Mehmet who gave her another. Repeating  the process with Holly’s other breast, Greta jiggled her toys once more, just for fun. She loved how those bouncing boobs felt, knowing the slave was tormented with shame by each caress, pinch or squeeze of her massive tits. Reluctantly giving each globe a final hard squeeze, she stood, her cunt level with Holly’s face, its wetness allowing her to see how much Greta had enjoyed hurting her.

   “Have Tits fed, watered and then set up her punishment,” Greta said as she walked back across the room, “I’ll be back to play with it later.”

     Greta strode back to the table where Olivia was still spread out. The blood stained bandages had been removed from the girl’s pretty little mouth and a small plastic ring inserted to hold it open to prevent her from speaking and making her tongue take longer to heal. It had also made feeding her easier, Hasan currently putting the apparatus he had used back into the gloom. Olivia’s skin glistened with the water he had used to wash her, her dripping blonde hair slicked back against her head and down onto the table. Further down, Greta saw the stubble around her pubes had been  shaved smooth by Hasan’s skilful hand. Olivia had been neglected as Greta dealt with her big titted friend but that was about to change as she picked up a small bottle Hasan had left on the table.

   “All nice and clean, baby,” Greta whispered as she stroked the bound girl's stretched stomach, “now let’s get that cunt smelling beautiful and fresh.”

   Greta pumped the bottle to spray a fine mist on the freshly shaved lips of Olivia’s splayed pussy. It took a few seconds but the reaction was worth it. The first sign of the spray's effect was Olivia going almost bug eyed in a combination of surprise and pain. Then came the squeal. Even with her cut tongue, Olivia’s piercing screech filled the room and she pulled violently on the straps securing her to the workbench, her pelvis jerking up and down and her torso writhing in agony as the acidic spray excruciatingly stung her newly shaved privates. Mehmet and Greta enjoyed watching her squirm  futilely against her bonds, her struggles failing to assuage the agonising pain tearing her sensitive cunt. So intense was the pain and unable to see what the spray had done, Olivia felt sure her skin was being burned away, vivid images of dissolving flesh flicking through her mind. Greta knew otherwise; she would never do permanent physical damage to one of her toys. Why would she want to ruin such a beautiful cunt? Instead the only evidence for Olivia’s writhing anguish was a slight reddening of her groin, the devilishly painful spray leaving no other mark, her desperate squealing and struggling notwithstanding. Greta laughed at her desperate writhings, her beautiful breasts bouncing around as she moved as best she could. With her legs and arms immobilised and her head strapped in, all she could do was shake her torso from side to side and push her pelvis up before slamming her firm little arse back onto the hard wood, the actions all magically combining with the girl’s beautiful features contorted into a grimace of sheer agony.

   “What are you screaming for?” Greta asked, still laughing, her voice dripping with faux incredulity, “I spray a little fragrance on your pretty little pussy and you act as if I’d tortured you. What an ungrateful little bitch whore you are!”

   Of course both Greta and Hasan knew why she was screaming. True, Greta had sprayed Olivia’s vulva with fragrance, making it nice and fresh after its ordeal over the previous few days. But the burning pain Olivia felt went far beyond anything a man spraying an after shave on a cut might feel. For Greta had mixed an irritant into the fragrance which did not dissolve skin like a strong acid but did cause significant pain even to fresh unbroken skin. But for Olivia’s freshly shaved, abused and naturally sensitive sex, it was agonising. Her thirst for violence not sated, Greta stroked the sensitive skin with her gloved hands, knowing this would only increase Olivia's pain. Sure enough, her delicious screams increased a few decibels, much to Greta’s delight. With smiling anticipation, Greta again picked up the bottle and, with her gloved hand directly over Olivia’s burning crotch, carefully sprayed just her gloved fingers with the liquid. The glove now dripping, Greta rubbed it down Olivia’s midriff, coating yet more of her skin in the acidic fragrance, spreading the liquid all over her stomach and sides. Although this skin was largely untouched, the irritant was so strong it still stung, spreading the pain up from her pubic region to her torso, following the trail of the latex glove as it snaked even higher. With both hands now on the girl’s body, Greta rubbed her torturous fingers up the girl’s succulent breasts, pushing hard against the mound of flesh, squashing them against her ribs and bringing her slippery digits up over Olivia’s tits. Massaging the spray onto the supple globes, she took particular care to rub the torturous nectar into Olivia's proud nipples.

  As the intense pain in her crotch tailed off and a less stinging pain in her breasts took hold, Olivia's violent struggles lessened, knowing it was impossible to avoid the woman now gripping her breasts. Olivia felt relieved as the severe pain lessened for it meant that little damage had been done to her precious sex. But as Greta's hands again moved down Olivia's lithe back to the newly shaved area, the rush of pain returned with a vengeance. With another scream, Olivia’s frantic squirming began again. But the cloudy white hands of her tormentor had a terrible intent. With her fingers covered in liquid, Greta slid her middle finger down between the lips of Olivia’s delicate slit. Continuing her descent, the German listened to the ear piercing screeching of the captive girl, smiling as she slid the tip of her middle finger into the hot passage of Olivia’s cunt.  Olivia could scarcely believe the pain could increase, greater than before. A fire shot up her as Greta slid her long bony finger further into her hole and her thrashing was now so intense that the strong bonds binding her to the table began to creak, the leather rubbing her wrists and ankles painfully. Greta didn’t care. Instead she moved more of her hand down to Olivia’s two holes, her index finger joining her middle finger inside Olivia’s pussy, pushing as far into it as she could until it was buried up to the knuckle while her ring finger slipped along Olivia’s perineum until it pressed against the tight and as yet unpenetrated rosebud of the girl’s arse. With her thumb rubbing the liquid straight onto Olivia’s protruding clitoris, Greta’s hand was stretched like a pianist’s when she pushed into the bound teen’s virgin arsehole.

    “AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!”

      Olivia’s screech was so intensely loud and piercing, it was almost otherworldly. Greta looked up to check the girl hadn’t passed out; in all her years she had never heard a scream like it. Perhaps it was the ring gag, her newly lengthened tongue, a low pain threshold or just a love of screaming but Greta could scarcely believe what she heard. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. When she heard gorgeous babes like Olivia scream in sheer agony like that, she simply could not understand why so few people did not do what she did. Greta was stretching every sinew just to keep delivering the exquisite pain to this most sensitive part of Olivia’s body. With the table rocking with the force of Olivia’s struggles, Greta had to bend over to keep her fingers plunged as far into the schoolgirl as possible. With two fingers up her pussy and one in her arse, Olivia looked like a human puppet, her violent wriggling making her puppet master appear to be in the throes of some violent epileptic fit. Olivia’s recently cleaned body cascaded with sweat but as one of the fittest  athletes at her school, the girl still tried to throw her torturer off and bring some blessed relief. Greta was amazed at the little girl's strength, never imagining such a small frame could exert so much effort. The little cunt even impressed her for she had expected these three English girls to immediately roll over and obey. But although she had broken the slutty one’s will to resist almost straight away and the big-titted sobbing cunt wasn't far behind, this spunky blonde fucker was more competitive. Being such a determined little bitch didn’t disappoint Greta though. Not in the slightest. It just made breaking the bitch even more fun. And if it didn’t happen by the time her clients came, they would get an even better deal, playing not just with a docile toy but one that resisted their heinous punishments.

   “Plenty of fight in this one,” Greta said to Hasan, the strain of her own effort showing in her face.

   “We must change that,” he chuckled, relishing what that would mean for both him and Olivia.

   “Lovely tight ass for us to play with as well,” Greta continued, “You hear that, cunt? That pretty little ass of yours is going to be ripped apart real soon.”

   The thought of Olivia’s pretty little virgin bud being painfully stretched open gave Greta an idea. Reluctantly pulling her ring finger from its cosy little home with a small pop, Greta lined it up with Olivia’s already stretched vagina and slowly worked it inside. The slippery liquid coating her fingers helped ease the new intruder into the moist snatch of the still wriggling girl who barely noticed the fresh pain of her overstretched pussy over the searing pain of the irritant. Pushing hard as she met plenty of resistance, Greta buried a third finger up to the knuckle inside the tight passage then placed the little finger of her right hand against the entrance. Pushing out with her three fingers, she created a gap just big enough to slip in the tip of this last digit but that was all the cunt’s cunt could take for now. She had been hoping the girl would be loose enough to slip her fist inside (causing plenty of pain of course) and fuck the bitch with it. She knew how much pain she could cause as she rammed her knuckles into a woman’s cervix. But as much fun as it would be to stretch this cunt until she could do just that, it would tear her apart and ruin her for future clients. There would be plenty of time for that for she had no intention of letting her toys go anywhere any time soon. Indeed Greta envisioned a time when both girls would be bent over with both her arms buried in their young cunts. In the meantime she would have to be content with using the four fingers already inside Olivia to fuck her. Moving just slightly in and out, she began to oscillate inside the girl’s moist cunt.

  Far from enjoying this new sensation, Olivia squirmed as vigorously as before, desperate to escape  the woman’s clutches. Unlike the rest of her body where the pain had dissipated as the liquid  evaporated, her warm moist holes retained the moisture and the pain still stung. Added to this was the incredibly painful stretching of her vagina as the fingers pulled it apart so much Olivia thought she would tear in two. She had put many things in her vagina over the last few years: cocks, fingers, sex toys and even the odd vegetable. But Mehmet’s giant cock had been the biggest thing she'd had and that was merely a day or so ago. Now she was feeling even more stretched and the pain was excruciating. Mercifully for Olivia, Greta decided she had stretched the girl’s cunny enough for now; the couple she was saving Olivia for would love a nice tight hole to play with. As she removed her hand, she gave the girl's nether regions one last smear of liquid to cause her suffering captive more pain and, after firmly slapping Olivia’s cunt, stood up.

   “My my, Blondie,” Greta marvelled, genuinely surprised as she walked round the still thrashing girl, “you are a feisty one. But don’t worry, baby, I’ll soon knock that out of you. By the time I’m done, you’ll be as obedient as that proud slutty whore upstairs and that pathetic cow over there. You’ll be a good little sex slave who only thinks about pleasing me. But unfortunately I must now deal with Tits. But don't panic, girl, I’ll be back.” Greta then turned to where Mehmet and Holly were waiting.

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      Gazing at herself, Lucy was utterly transfixed. She could scarcely recognise herself. Dripping with water, her long thin body was covered with evidence of her difficult time. Running her eyes down her body, she brooded over each individual mark. Her brown nipples were swollen and reddened atop her small pert breasts. The tanned skin of her toned stomach was covered in reddened patches where they had rubbed against something hard. Between her legs, her pussy was also slightly red. As she turned, Lucy saw her rear and thighs crisscrossed with red lines and welts from being repeatedly whipped. She stared at her reflection for a long time, scarcely believing what those three maniacs in the basement had done to her or what they had made her do to her friends. But it all paradoxically seemed far in the past as she stood before the mirror freshly washed, her whole body smelling beautifully of jasmine. Her room wasn’t luxurious but it was no dungeon, with a single bed in one corner, a toilet and sink in another and along one wall the mirror she was looking into now. The lighting was soft, the décor minimal but not unpleasant, the smell from candles burning on the bedside table luxurious. Looking back into the mirror, Lucy saw what had been done with her hair and face. Dark black lines framed her hazel eyes, making them look even more sultry than usual. Her hair was bound into a tight but still dripping ponytail. Her skin was kissed with a light foundation, her nigh on flawless skin needing very little assistance. Lucy knew she always looked good but the work the Asian woman had done was very impressive. Just as she thought this the door opened.

  The  woman who had attended her after her bath entered, wearing the same long black cheongsam she wore when she had taken Lucy out of that dingy room. Looking a radiant picture of elegance and class, her face still showed no emotion, her swift entry without knocking tacitly indicating that Lucy no longer had privacy. In her hand she carried a long blue silk garment which glistened in the soft light. Keeping her eyes fixed on Lucy's, she walked swiftly towards her in a seemingly effortless glide, and handed her the garment. Lucy took the soft material eagerly. It had been days since she had been covered and though proud of her body, she longed to recover just a modicum of modesty.

  "It is not becoming of a high class whore to be on display all the time," the woman said as Lucy eagerly slipped into the sky blue robe, "Instead she must allude to her treasures, showing just enough flesh to entice and no more."

  After Lucy did up the robe, the woman adjusted it. The slightly darker lapels were positioned over her chest to just conceal her pert breasts. The sides were pulled over to expose  Lucy's right leg up to the top of the thigh. The shoulders were pulled away to just hung on the girl's athletic body who currently resembled a human mannequin. Looking into the mirror, Lucy met her dresser's gaze but got nothing from the beautiful but cold face staring back. She had barely even noticed she had been called a whore, the derogatory word a small thing compared to what she had already experienced.

  "Come," the woman said, turning away abruptly, "there is much still to show you."

  "Excuse me," Lucy called rather hoarsely, her screaming still effecting her, "what is your name?"

  With an irritated intake of breath, the woman stopped and almost tangibly composed herself.  Turning around, she looked at Lucy with such menace that a shiver rippled down her spine. With frightening serenity, the woman walked back, exuding total control. She may have been only an inch taller but she towered over the cowering Lucy who stooped out of fear. Her answer was precise.

  "My name," her slightly accented voice speaking slowly and methodically, "is unimportant. As is yours. What you were called before you came here, what you were, is no longer relevant. All that matters now is this. Whatever you did before you must forget. This is your life now. You will be taught to use your body to please your masters and that is all you are to care about. If you do it well, you will be comfortable; if not, you will be severely punished. Now follow me, there is work to do."

  Feeling like a told off child, Lucy paused then slinked with bowed shoulders after the woman, out  the door and down the corridor.

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     As Olivia still mewled, writhed and thrashed around on the table, Greta calmly walked over to Mehmet who was just finishing with Holly. Bound in the same position, the girl had certainly heard Olivia’s torture and knew that hers was coming. Greta approached slowly to prolong the agony of suspense. Simply hurting the girls physically was insufficient, both for her business and her sadistic nature. Greta needed to torture every facet of their being until they had nothing left of their old selves. To watch a human go from being proud and defiant to an obedient and compliant husk was her greatest pleasure, and there was something about pretty young girls that made it all the sweeter. Whilst she had seen men the same, Greta enjoyed nothing more than torturing a woman until they thought of nothing else but how to please her. Then Greta could enjoy the results.

   As she approached Holly, she noted that despite what she had said to Olivia, the girl was actually far from fully trained. Right now she might respond, when prompted, as Greta expected but it was only to escape further punishment. The bitch did not fully understand her situation or realise that she would continue to be painfully tortured while she had any sense of self; in Greta’s experience such a process would take many long highly enjoyable months. Looking at the latex clad body, Greta couldn’t help but smile at how pathetic and helpless she looked. Having an arrogant big titted bitch like this so completely at her mercy pleased Greta greatly. To see girls like her walking around as if they owned the place made Greta burn with rage; parading down the street with their ridiculous melons on show, on the covers of magazines and newspapers and all over the internet squeezing them together to form massive cleavages. Every time she got her hands on a decent sized pair, even a pair like Olivia’s, Greta felt she was torturing all of them. And it felt so good. With a look, she sent Mehmet into the darkness before bending once again in front of the bound girl's face.

   “Now it is fed and watered, is it ready for its punishment?” Greta said cheerfully.

  “Yes, mistress,” Holly said without delay, her throat no longer as dry and thus her voice less hoarse.

  “Good. Does it remember why it is being punished?”

  “For cumming, mistress.”

  “Why is it being punished for cumming?”

  “Because…it was told not.”

  “’This cunt was told not to cum’,” Greta said impatiently, “say it!”

  “This cunt was told not to cum.”

  “It must learn how to speak properly or it will be punished again and again,” Greta said, looking up to see Mehmet returning from the darkness, “Now, we’ll begin.”

    With that she nodded to Mehmet who carried various apparatus. Holly couldn’t see what it was  but it didn’t matter; he didn't want her consent before torturing her. When Mehmet put it on the floor, Holly heard a clunk. The suspense of waiting to see how she would be hurt next was now the norm with the added fear of what had been injected into her breasts nagging her. Although she tried not to rationalise it as some kind of antibiotic to stave off infection or a hormone to stop pregnancy, she couldn’t stop feeling something awful was about to happen. It may have been her imagination but her breasts felt ... tingly. Irrespective, she had to focus for she knew that agony would be next.

   Reaching around the stocks holding Holly, Greta grabbed one of her hanging breasts, squeezing the sensitive mound of flesh with characteristic roughness but now almost probing as if to discover something hidden within. Seemingly satisfied, Greta gave the tit a habitual punishing slap before repeating the process on her other tortured breast, looking up abstractly to concentrate on what she was doing, her long bony fingers digging into Holly’s breast flesh hard as if checking the ripeness of a melon. Giving this breast a harder slap, Greta moved her gloved hands to cup Holly's sweet innocent face, the sting of the spray she had used on Olivia having dissipated.

   “They’re almost ready,” Greta said, knowing her words would only puzzle the girl more, “Mehmet.”

   Suddenly Holly felt a sharp surge of pain from her pussy. With Greta still firmly cupping her face, she could only muster a muffled wail which didn’t lessen the pain. As she teared up, another painful pang shot into her body. Not knowing what caused it terrified her and not being able to see what was being done to her most sensitive feminine area only increased her fear. With her torso strapped onto the wooden block, she couldn’t escape Mehmet's actions and her attempts to wriggle away were futile. All she could do was look into the cold unforgiving eyes of her sadistic captor.

  Mehmet looked at the girl’s pussy that just a few hours ago he had filled with cum. Just remembering her riding his cock, those big tits almost smothering him, made him almost feel her cunt's tight grip around his shaft. It did not look so tight now. She had already taken him twice up  her virgin cunt, no mean feat for a cock his size. But hours of the machine battering her pussy had splayed open the delicate flower of her sex. Such was the beauty of young flesh, Mehmet knew the girl’s supple labia would soon close with time. But now was not that time. He had attached two large crocodile clips whose teeth brutally bit into the flesh of her sensitive lips. Each clip had a thin rubber coated wire running to two metal boxes the size of a car battery. If Holly had seen it, she would have known what was coming but she could only feel the pain of the biting teeth. With her outer lips now pulled apart, Mehmet ran his finger along her inner pussy, feeling her flinch at his touch. His middle finger scooted up the slit until it brushed the nub of her clit. With a tenderness belying his intentions, he gently massaged it, knowing that despite herself her body would react.

   The pain from Holly’s crotch began to lessen for the clips attached to her pussy lips reduced the blood supply to her sensitive cunt. All she felt now was a dull ache. Until she felt the finger running along her sex from the bottom to the top where the hood housed her clitoris. The finger was quite sensual, as if it bore no relation to the man who had abused, raped and tortured her. In contrast to  past treatment, the light touch was almost pleasurable and if her body were not racked with pain, she would certainly have enjoyed Mehmet’s gentle massage of her sensitive clit. As the rubbing continued, Holly closed her eyes and tried to enjoy it, knowing these brief moments of pleasure were few and far between. She had thought this feeling no longer existed for her, the warming tingle spreading from her crotch and eventually filling her entire body. She had felt it many times by her own hand when lying in bed and for just a moment, even with all this suffering, she could picture herself back there. Yet even in this chamber of horrors, Holly could not have imagined how swiftly this pleasure would turn to pain. In a heartbeat the soothing glow at her crotch turned into a cauldron of white hot searing agony as the hands stopped cupping her face, her eyes opened wide and her screams echoed from the stone walls.

  Mehmet smirked as the vicious teeth of a tiny crocodile clip bit into the girl’s engorged throbbing clit. He had massaged it until it stood proud at the top of her sex, peeking out from beneath its hood with its usual dumb expectancy. He had aroused many women, seeing this very sight often, but it was not until recently that he had used his skill to hurt those he pleasured. Yet he certainly liked it, the scream of the bitch music to his ears. He had not always been this way. Growing up, he had always tried to respect women although of course his good looks had kept him constantly in demand. It was only on coming to Munich, scraping by at that godforsaken bar with drunken bitches crawling all over him that his terse attitude toward them as well as his ability to attract them had first caught the eye of this strange woman. He recalled his first experience at this castle, watching a young woman's beautiful face contorted not in pleasure but in agony. It was a grotesque, stomach churning sight. Yet he could not take his eyes away. He hadn’t slept for days after, tossing and turning as the images ran riot through his mind. He had considered going to the authorities to tell them about the terrible things he had seen but in reality he knew things would never be the same. He not only could not forget the girl’s beautiful pain filled eyes but wanted to see them repeated. In the tortured scream of this new bitch, he felt he had found his true calling in life.

   Holly found no such epiphany but only a screech of anguish as her clitoris was bitten viciously by the clip's biting metal. This new torture surpassed the last, each new pain seemingly designed to eclipse what had gone before. She struggled against this new assault but even as she thrashed around, she knew it was useless. Despite her efforts, the clips biting her flesh were immovable, their grip seeming to tighten with each passing moment. Unable to plea for a mercy she knew would not be given, Holly’s hopeless eyes looked into Greta’s and the German stared back with little emotion save a flicker of amusement at her captive's pain. It was still alien to Holly how somebody could enjoy another's pain especially an innocent teenager's who had done nothing to them and whose whole life was before them. Something in the woman’s life must have twisted her, for she could not believe anybody could be so cruel without deep motive. Then, through the pain, Holly felt another touch at her rear, one now painfully familiar. The pressure at the tight bud of her anus was no clip but warm and throbbing, the unmistakable touch of Mehmet’s cock bearing down to sodomise her. She tightened the muscles in her arsehole instinctively, before sense returned. She could not stop her chute being penetrated and trying to do so would result in further torture. Reluctantly and with heavy heart, relaxing as much as she could, Holly submitted to the inevitable.

  Mehmet didn’t need a second invitation as he pushed his cock steadily inside her tight arse chute. That Hasan had already sodomised the bitch didn’t matter to Mehmet. This second hole was as tight as when he had fucked her virgin cunt. As he inched forward, the walls of her hole gripped his dick tightly, increasing its warm embrace. He had already used the girl’s flowing juices to liberally lubricate his cock so he had no problem sliding even further inside, his hands grabbing her wide hips as he pulled himself deep into her until he was pressed right up against her hot latex-clad buttocks. With his cock fully inside, he paused, his hands roaming all over her midriff, tantalisingly close to her hanging breasts. He looked at Greta to signal he was right up her and the next stage could begin.

   Greta’s eyes never left those of the bound girl, only seeing Mehmet’s signal peripherally. Her long fingers reached behind Holly and pulled the battery along the ground to better access to its controls. Positioning it just behind the stocks, Greta prepared to deliver more pain to the poor girl. But first she had some choice words.

  “Is the cunt’s ass tight, Mehmet?” Greta asked, looking directly at Holly but seemingly ignoring her.

  “Like a glove,” Mehmet replied with a broad smile, “but could be tighter.”

   “Does it wish to please its master?” Greta asked Holly, the girl taking a moment to realise she was spoken to.

   “Yes, mistress,” came the reply.

  “Then we must make sure its ass fits even better,” Greta said, flicking a switch on the battery.

    Holly's scream would have woken all Munich were the room not soundproofed. Her entire body went stiff as a fierce current ran through each clip, the effect not of electrocution but sheer pain. Her cunt felt on fire . Each clip carried its own current, searing through the thin but sensitive flesh it bit into. And it had the desired effect, every muscle in her body tensing, the slick walls of her arse chute closing fiercely around Mehmet’s shaft inside her, the pressure exerted almost painful. He chuckled as he tried in vain to piston in and out. Then he leant over, his dick still embedded deep within her, until he lay almost flat on her back. It didn’t take a genius to guess where his hands were going. Like moths to a flame, his large hands grasped the girl’s massive tits, gripping them as tightly as her arse gripped his prick. If Holly could have screamed further she would have but all her screaming was taken up with the pain from the battery which showed no sign of lessening. She could scarcely believe that, despite no torturing attention, her breasts felt even more sensitive. With Mehmet’s vice-like grasp gleefully squeezing her tits, his cock plunged deep into her arse and her cunt painfully electrocuted, Holly was in a world of pain. And those around her enjoyed it greatly.

   “How is its ass now?” Greta asked as if she were servicing a car, not torturing a human being.

    “It grips so tight I cannot fuck,” Mehmet said, his smile suggesting he was not unhappy about it.

     “Well, we wouldn’t want that would we, Tits?” Greta asked, knowing she would get no reply, “it will have to loosen that ass so it can be buggered properly.”

    As Greta reduced the current, Holly’s relief was small but tangible, the fiery pain from her crotch decreasing enough to loosen her arse's tight grip on Mehmet’s shaft. Finally able to move, he immediately did so, his hands digging into her tit flesh with renewed vigour, twisting each globe violently in his palms as he pulled his cock out of her arse till only the glans remained inside. Holly realised too late what was about to happen, not that she could have stopped it. Mehmet thrust forward with all his power, shaking the wooden restraints as his thrust slammed into her. Once begun, his toned arse became a blur, slamming back and forth against the firm buttocks of the girl beneath him. Knowing nothing would stop him and with her own desire for pain far from sated, Greta increased the current again, raptly listening with closed eyes to the inevitable scream, a bellowing almost hoarse effort this time as Holly again unintelligibly screeched to the heavens, her body stiff with pain. The current burned through the clips gripping her pussy and Holly, unable to see, had no idea of the damage. For all she knew, her lips and clit were being literally burnt away. Gripped by panic and pain, all she could do was scream, scream as loudly as her lungs allowed.

   Greta allowed herself one quick look at Mehmet as he pounded the girl. He was obviously far from finished which allowed more time to enjoy the exquisite sounds of her toy as she screamed. But it could not continue. The girl had suffered greatly and would continue to do so at her hand but she needed time to recover. There was no fun making a girl insane, at least not too quickly. But until Mehmet had spilled his seed inside her, she would not stop torturing the helpless girl for she could never tire of hearing that scream. She looked around the stocks at Mehmet's hands, knowing she would be pleased. They did not disappoint. The bitch deserved the punishment he was inflicting on her huge melons, the German smiled broadly at his rough treatment of those massive tits. It was a glorious sight, one Greta hoped to see again and again while the cunt was still useable.

    Mehmet’s roared in pleasure at the tight grip of Holly’s arse around his throbbing cock. He had not yet sodomised the girls and though it wasn’t his only motivation, the unique grip of this tightest of holes was something to be savoured whenever the opportunity presented. Having her resist him only made it more pleasurable, taking her against his will swelling his cock to a size he had never thought possible. Close to release, he yet did not slow his pace to prolong his pleasure but instead continued to plough Holly’s battered arse in a complete frenzy. Giving the screaming bitch no respite, he again twisted and pulled her heaving breasts in one final roar of pleasure, plunging deep into her, tugging her hanging tits as he spasmed in climax. His cum shot deep into her bowels, his body twitching while hers was still stiff with pain. As the wave of pleasure receded, he opened his eyes and looked at Greta, both of them smiling. Reluctantly Greta switched off the battery, ending most of the pain burning Holly's crotch. Equally reluctantly, Mehmet released his iron grip on her tits and slid his softening cock from her slick arse chute. Removing the clips biting into her flesh was not easy but he did, first the larger ones clipping her lips and then, with just a little flick of her clit, the last. His cock still dripping with cum, Mehmet stood, gave Holly's arse a last slap and returned into the shadows with the apparatus.

   “Its punishment is complete,” Greta said, stroking the side of Holly’s cheek like a loving owner with  a pet, “will it ever disobey its mistress again?”

  “No, mistress,” Holly said, fighting back tears of shame but equally relieved it was over.

  “Good,” Greta replied before motioning Mehmet to give her something. Holly had obviously not suffered enough since the German wished to inflict one more punishment. Mehmet gave it but, her head secured, Holly could not tell what it was. She soon knew. Greta held up two familiar items, a thin needle and a golden ring, similar to those Holly had seen when her nipples were pierced.

  “Does it remember what these are for?” Greta asked, ignoring Holly's wide eyed surprise and shaking head, “from when it had its big tits pierced?”

  “Yes, mistress,” Holly just about managed to get out, more tears welling in her round brown eyes.

  “Well, since it has such big udders,” Greta continued, “it should look more like the cow that it is. Its mistress has decided to put a ring through its nose so it can be dragged around. Does that sound like a good idea, cunt?”

   Holly had to agree and accept this latest punishment but she mentally paused, still incredulous at being talked to like this by someone who didn’t know her, had no cause to hate her and no cause to torture her. That she seemed largely motivated by Holly's big boobs was even more bizarre. She had never asked for them, indeed quite the opposite. She never flaunted her assets, frequently covering up and wearing baggy clothes to conceal her magnificent pair. When the younger boys in her school  peered through the sixth form common room windows to glimpse her tits, they were pissed off to be rewarded with nothing but a tantalising bulge. Indeed Olivia whose tits looked so good on her petite body, showed hers off far more often, giving boys plenty of cleavage to feast their eyes on. From the story of the girl who made the throwaway comment, Holly understood Greta was jealous of girls with bigger tits but that was no reason to torture her. But the consequences would be severe if Holly did not praise her new mistress and so, adopting her obedient slave persona, she did so.

  “A very good idea, mistress,” Holly said, visibly surprising Greta by responding with more than just her standard ‘yes, mistress’.

  “Good. Now hold still or this will look very messy and its mistress won’t be pleased. And remember, all it must think about now is pleasing its masters.”

  Pressing the needle against Holly’s septum while her other hand gripped Holly’s chin hard, Greta was obviously prepared for her to struggle. Closing her eyes as if that would somehow lessen the coming pain, she felt the needle's cold point press against the sensitive area, wincing and gritting her teeth. As the needle pushed through, Holly felt more pain but resolved to give this woman as little pleasure as possible by not showing it. When it pushed all the way through, her nose was very painful but it was less than she had felt before, her previous tortures hardening her to things which previously would have been pure agony. The needle was removed and quickly replaced by the surprisingly heavy ring and Holly was afraid it would tear her septum. But Greta knew what it could take; she would never make such a basic error. She looked at her handiwork. Holly looked fantastic: her black latex face with the nose ring made her look the perfect fuck toy. And that was before her tits and cunt were displayed. Pleased, Greta slapped her face hard and leaned in slightly.

  “There we go,” she whispered, “its starting to look like a perfect little slave cunt. What does it say?”

  “Thank you, mistress,” Holly said, the pain in her nose now having lessened.

  “Good cunt. Now its time to put Blondie over there to some actual use. Soon you’ll both know your place is to please your masters. Mehmet, string it up by its tits. Oh, I want it blindfolded and gagged as well. I don’t want to hear its pathetic noises while we play with the other one.”

   Greta stood, her legs stiff and painful from crouching for so long in front of Holly but she had not shown even a flicker of discomfort. She had to appear totally powerful so these girls knew she was in charge. Her whole persona had to be carefully thought out and executed when she was down here. Of course she was often tempted to get carried away, often made things up on the spot and frequently suffered discomfort, usually from prolonged periods in positions or time spent using the same muscles when whipping or caning a girl. But she never let it show. To Holly and Olivia, she seemed always in control, all powerful and merciless and that was exactly how she wanted it.

   As Greta went to Olivia, Mehmet started securing Holly in the desired position. He first decided  to gag and blindfold her so she wouldn’t distract Greta from what she was doing to Olivia. Walking to a chest in the cellar shadows, he opened it to reveal a feast of bondage apparatus heaped together like a den of snakes, all black leather and silver buckles, blindfolds, gags and cuffs, corsets, hoods and gloves. Mehmet rummaged briefly, found what he wanted and returned to Holly with a ball gag like the one used when she was first brought into the dungeon, and a leather blindfold with a buckle to tie tightly around her head. Moving behind Holly, he straddled her back and leant over the stocks.

  “Open,” he commanded and Holly quickly obeyed. She had heard Greta order her ‘strung up by her tits’ but though terrified by how painful it would be, she could not stop it and obediently opened her mouth to let him slide the rigid plastic ball in. Tugging her head hard back against the wooden board, he fixed the gag by tightening the buckle below her ponytail, repeating the process with the leather blindfold. Finished, Mehmet looked at the girl’s face. Bending in front of her as Greta had done, he looked at the almost completely masked face of the thing in front of him. It was less of a sight without those big brown helpless eyes but with her face covered in black rubber and leather, he enjoyed seeing the girl dressed as the archetypal gimp. He had little time to admire her, though, for he knew Greta would be displeased if he didn't work fast so he stood up and continued.

  Although he knew she wouldn't resist even if free, he took no chances, deciding to secure her partly in her new bondage before removing the current one. Going to a control box in the corner, Mehmet pushed a few buttons, causing a motor to whir somewhere and a bar suspended by two chains to slowly inch from the ceiling until it was level with his chest, just above the stocked Holly. Bending down, he picked up some white rope as thick as his thumb and, with a skill that some sail-ship navy would have appreciated, tied the rope around the bar, leaving a long trailing section which he brought over to Holly. With a brusque disregard, he sat on her back, pushing her hard onto the wooden block supporting her lower body. Working with customary speed, Mehmet passed the rope under Holly’s torso, just below her breasts and pulled it tight, lifting her up towards him. Still pulling the rope taut, Mehmet made two nooses with plenty of length at the end and brought the rope back round and under Holly again. Lining up the nooses with each of Holly’s giant breasts and wrapping the free length of the rope round his arm to keep the rope tensioned, he used his free hand to work her left tit into the noose, sliding it down to the base of her fleshy mound till it just gripped her breast. He then repeated the process on her other tit, the rope only lightly constricting each breast. That would soon change though. With the rope still wrapped around his arm, he brought both hands down and slowly tightened the noose at the base of her left breast, leaning slightly to the side and watching as the rope tightened around her tit. At first there was no noticeable change but as the rope tightened and cut off the blood flow, her breast began to swell and change colour. Continuing to tighten the noose, Mehmet watched with brooding delight as Holly’s massive tit turned from the pale tan of her natural complexion to an angry red as the blood pooled in her distended breast. Repeating the process with her right tit, he listened with glee to the gagged girl's muffled whimpers as the pain of her tightly constricted breasts began to bite. Although her bulbous swollen tits could have been bound tighter, Mehmet knew she would be in some pain. As she was supposed to be.

  Having tied her to the bar she would soon be suspended from, Mehmet now released her from her previous bondage, undoing the tight leather strap tying her to the wooden block. Although Holly felt her lower body free, she knew the futility of struggle and remained motionless as Mehmet walked round the stocks holding her neck and wrists. Flipping a few catches holding the two halves of wood in place, he lifted the top away, freeing Holly’s neck and arms. Fairly sure she wouldn't try anything, he disappeared briefly and returned with some large zip ties, tying Holly’s wrists tightly behind her back with characteristic roughness, and using the second zip to tie her elbows together, causing her back to bend slightly and thrusting out her swollen tits. Finally he removed the wooden block holding up her lower body, causing her crotch to collapse to the floor and almost throttling her on the stocks. Everything secure, Mehmet moved to the control panel and began winching up the bar.

   Mehmet could not see Holly’s face as the latex covered it but he knew it would be contorting in pain as the winch slowly pulled the bar into the air. The first thing she felt was the slight tug as the rope went taut above her and tightened around her torso, slowly but inexorably pulling her up. Worried by the unknown that lay in store for her, Holly fought to stay in her current position. It was no use and soon her neck was pulled from the stock's head-groove. With her hands bound behind her, Holly could not stop rising and though she wriggled from side to side, the rope around her body tightened, heaving her up toward the ceiling. Her toes still touched the ground but each time she was pulled up her binding tightened, both around her torso and the base of her breasts. Mehmet winched the bar up until her dainty latex clad toes just left the ground and stopped to inspect the suspended girl. Hanging from the ceiling like a piece of meat, her slender toned legs wriggled frantically, much to his amusement. But what was really eye-catching were Holly’s bulging melons. Although her entire weight wasn’t supported by her bound globes, the ropes exerted plenty of pressure, tightening them into an angry red bulge of blood trapped in her spectacular mounds, her  tiny bright nipple piercings standing out against the dark swollen flesh. She dangled helplessly from the ceiling, her legs and body twitching slightly, as Mehmet looked her up and down. What a pathetic little bitch she was, he thought; strung up, blindfolded, gagged, bruised, pierced. He moved closer and stroked her rubbery flank, her body hot to the touch. As he looked at the girl, dressed head to toe like a gimp in a fetish club, he knew her ordeal would not get any easier; far from it. During all this, Greta had approached Olivia and the patiently waiting Hasan.

    “Hello again, baby,” Greta said warmly as her hand grasped Olivia’s tit, “let’s see how that new tongue is doing.”

   With her mouth forced open by the ring gag, Greta easily reached in to pull out the writhing flesh of Olivia's tongue to inspect both its length and how it was healing. Greta smiled at her handiwork. She had lengthened it enough to enhance the pleasure it would give as it lapped Greta’s pussy but not so much that the girl couldn't talk or that it would flop out of her mouth. And the cut was so clean it had almost healed. But not quite and Greta didn’t want to risk reopening the wound. A minor inconvenience but good things come to those who wait. Still, things hadn’t gone entirely to plan and Greta considered what additional torture to inflict on her in the meantime. Though she had suffered much pain, Greta knew she had been let off lightly compared to her big titted friend. Her mind cycled through all the toys at her disposal, one being the strapping man with the huge cock.

   “That’s coming along very nicely indeed,” Greta said, taking her fingers out of Olivia’s mouth while  the other still squeezed her tit's soft flesh, “soon you’ll be able to lick pussy like a pro. First though Hasan here hasn’t had a chance to fuck you, which is hardly fair is it? And your pretty little ass hasn’t been fucked yet. We wouldn’t want you to miss out on what your friends have had, would we?”

    Without needing to be told exactly what Greta intended, Hasan moved enthusiastically, spurred on by knowing he would soon have his cock buried deep in the girl’s arse. But after undoing the strap holding her right leg in place, momentarily freeing her, Olivia showed she still had plenty of fight in her by kicking out violently. Its force surprised Hasan. Greta stood back and chuckled as Hasan wrestled with her bucking leg, using both muscular arms just to hold it. As much as she enjoyed the fight Olivia showed as it made breaking her all the more enjoyable, Greta couldn’t let the little bitch fight too long for there was still much to do. So while Hasan struggled to control her, Greta disappeared into the shadows for something Olivia was already familiar with. Focussed on throwing Hasan’s grip off her leg, Olivia didn’t realise what Greta was doing until too late. When the twin prongs of the cattle prod pressed firmly against the babe’s nipple, Greta waited just a moment for Olivia’s eyes to open as she worked out what was about to happen before squeezing the trigger.

   As a jolt of electricity coursed through the cattle rod and into the sensitive tit flesh, a piercing squeal filled the room, Olivia's entire body jumping as all her muscles contracted at once. Her leg straightened so quickly Hasan didn't anticipate it, catching him squarely in the jaw and almost knocking him off his feet. Greta couldn’t stop laughing, the combination of the shuddering body and Hasan holding his face after being hurt by an otherwise helpless girl. It was even funnier knowing that Hasan was humiliated and would now be especially cruel to Olivia even though it was completely involuntary. Although a momentary loss of face, an admission that she was indeed human, she found the suffering of this feisty little bitch amusing. So while Hasan composed himself and spat out the blood, Greta leaned over and whispered into her ear.

   “Stop your struggling, little cunt,” she said with a small smirk, “you exist to please us now. If your master wants to move your legs you will let him. You will let him do whatever he wants to you and you will be grateful for it. And because you’ve been such a naughty little whore and attacked him, you’re going to have be punished especially harshly. Fucking bitch.”

   So saying, Greta stood and with all the drama of a religious ritual, held the cattle prod vertically above Olivia, placing it once more against her nipple as if plunging a knife into her breast. Looking into her eyes, Greta drank up their fear and pain and pulled the trigger. Again the girl spasmed, the unbound leg again violently kicking out. When her spasms calmed, Hasan walked back to her, his face a picture of anger and lust, and grabbed her leg. With her now limp limb over his shoulder, he  bent it back until he met serious resistance, Olivia’s limber and athletic body struggling to take the strain. Wanting to revengefully hurt her, Hasan continued pushing and Olivia squealed in pain as he forced her foot to touch the table by her ear. He could tell from her contorted face how extreme the pain was but after what she had done to him she deserved everything she got. Leaning on the leg with his body, Hasan reached down and grabbed another leather restraint at the side of the table. Still holding her leg back with his body, he tied it into its new position before stepping back to look. The pain from her stretched groin must have been agony as her inarticulate mewling, scrunched up eyes and tears showed. Hasan made her torment even worse by fingering her widely splayed pussy up and down. Olivia involuntarily flinched at his touch, making the pain worse, her obscenely spread legs causing so much agony she was almost certain he had caused irreparable damage.

   “What a pretty pink pussy that is,” Greta said, putting the cattle prod on the table and extending her own bony digits to touch Olivia’s cunt, “you look so inviting spread like that, slut. Sadly Hasan won’t be able to ram his cock deep into your ass if you’re like that.”

   Olivia was in so much pain she couldn't take in her tormentor's taunting patronising words. Luckily  her current position was not permanent since keeping her like this for long would damage the little plaything more than Greta wanted. So though she enjoyed that pained face and that gorgeous body contorted in pain, she had to allow it a more endurable position. Looking at Hasan, she nodded him to continue. Reluctantly he tore himself away from inserting his finger into Olivia’s snatch and moved round the table. Knowing she would be too scared to fight again, he had no problem undoing her other leg. The pressure on her groin meant that when her leg was released, Olivia voluntarily raised it, doing part of Hasan’s job for him. He duly did the rest, bending her leg up and securing it at the other end of the table. Olivia’s lower body had been bent upwards, thrusting her pert arse into the air. With her legs still spread wide, her cheeks  parted enough to reveal the puckered ring of her virgin arsehole. Stripping off his shorts to reveal his huge throbbing erection, a small drop of precum at the end of his glans, Hasan quickly clambered  onto the table, obsessed with feeling the grip of her arse chute around his cock. Standing on the wooden table, he reached forward and ran his hands over Olivia’s arse, admiring the toned tightness of this little bitch's bottom.

   Before being employed by Greta, he had not much of a taste for these petite girls, preferring Lucy's sort of elegant beauty. This was why while Mehmet had been chatting to other girls, he had seen the raven haired temptress first, her high cheekbones and arrogant demeanour attracting him like a moth to a flame. Had he not been there to identify and capture potential victims, he would have tried hard to seduce and fuck her. He had been lucky that the object of his lust was part of the group they had kidnapped, for though the other two girls had fit the bill perfectly, Lucy was not the kind they usually targeted, being too self-assured, confident and street smart. But she too had been duped, drugged and defiled like the other two. Hasan’s luck had got even better when she had been chosen to go upstairs. It had been a long time since a girl they had ‘recruited’ had been sent there but then Lucy was special. Whenever he had used the goods up there, he had only seen women who had been raised in third world hovels, never a wealthy English girl. They were treated differently up there, meaning she would not be as broken as the other two bitches and he could still enjoy the pleasure of fucking a woman as enthusiastic about sex as he. But he had come to appreciate the charms of a girl like this, the cutesy girl next door look so adored in the West. He particularly enjoyed how quickly they submitted so meekly to his will, enjoying how much more powerful he was than them and how sexually inexperienced and therefore pleasurable their bodies were. That this bitch showed more fight and was more used than some other girls was irrelevant. He had a cute little blonde’s virgin arsehole to sink his cock into, a prize which any man would pay a lot of money for. With his hands on her hips and squatting slightly, he lined his dripping prick up to the inviting rosebud spread before him. He knew it would be painfully tight to begin with and he momentarily thought about rubbing the girl’s pussy to get her juices flowing, so as to lubricate her arse and his cock but thought better of it. As much as it might hurt him for the first few strokes, it would hurt her much more and that knowledge would help overcome his own pain. He spat on his hand and rubbed his cock just enough to actually get inside her then looked up, waiting for his cue to start.

   The German knew Hasan wanted to get started and she didn’t blame him; indeed she too was growing impatient at being unable to use her new toy properly. But she made him wait for two reasons. One was her overwhelming desire for control. Though working with her employees, she didn’t want them using too much initiative or doing things without her explicit consent. She had been doing this far too well for far too long to allow some upstart immigrant to dictate what was done to her slaves and when. The other reason was that she hadn’t decided what else to do to Olivia. Having Hasan sodomise her would be extremely painful and humiliating but at this stage of the process she needed something more. She had not planned for this, hoping instead Olivia’s tongue would be healed and could be used for its intended purpose, and the feeling of not having everything under complete control frustrated her immensely. She tried not to show it lest the two Turks see her as anything other than the calm and collected persona she tried so hard to project. Her practised stride masking her inner frustration, Greta stalked the darkened edges in the room, searching for inspiration. Her dungeon was lit so that those in the middle, her victims, couldn’t see beyond but there was sufficient light once beyond the bright glare to see a glorious and terrifying sight. Along the walls were racks of torture devices; whips, crops, manacles, cuffs, dildos, etc. Anything one could imagine in a dungeon was there, mounted along the wall or in boxes on the floor. Greta searched through her mind for the ideal device to inflict the requisite level of pain or humiliation on the poor bound girl. As she looked at the various items, she had flashbacks to each time she had used them on some slut, their faces twisting in agony as they endured Greta’s wrath.

    Hasan ran his cock head along the cleft of Olivia’s cheeks, her puckered hole just begging him to force his massive prick inside her. His dick twitched in anticipation and it was all he could do not to ram himself into the pretty little bitch. Greta really was taking the piss, making him hover over the girl without being able to penetrate while she chose some implement of torture. In truth he didn’t care if Greta was hurting Olivia, all he wanted was to feel the tight grip of her arsehole around his cock as soon as possible. But it was all part of Greta’s routine, to show her total control of both him and the girl. It was a transparent ploy and while it might strike fear into the pathetic girls they bought in here, it didn’t effect him or Mehmet. Yet he owed the woman who owned this place a great debt, given the unholy enjoyment he got out of her generosity. So though frustrating to have such a tight hole in front of him and be unable to plough it, the price was worth paying.

   Greta could sense the frustration radiating from the table but it didn't perturb her as she searched for the perfect accompaniment to Hasan’s buggering of Olivia. Although Olivia’s new tongue couldn’t pleasure Greta, seeing her slave's pain filled eyes would give her plenty of joy. And now she knew  what would be perfect for the spoilt little bitch. A corner cupboard had exactly what she needed and Greta now relaxed; with a plan, she was back in control. With her trademark purposed stride, the leather clad woman opened the cupboard, revealing inside a large candle, a small glass vial of oil, matches and a small metal pan. Impatient to begin, Greta took the matches and lit the candle.

   In the central bright light, Olivia did not know what Greta was up to in the corner. When the lights suddenly went out, Olivia panicked, oblivious to the fact Greta had merely turned the lights off. In her heightened state of fear, she suddenly felt as if these awful people had blinded her. She would put nothing past these monsters given how they had already treated her and her friends. But then she saw a faint light edging its way towards her, flickering like a flame and sending shadows onto the ceiling above her. Still terrified, Olivia shuddered as she felt a thud near her head, closing her eyes for some small relief from what was about to happen. She didn’t dare to open them, knowing from her position, the touch of Hasan’s hands on her hips and the tip of his dick resting against her virgin hole that she was about to be fucked in her arse and with Greta back that this would be accompanied by some heinous torture.  Her ordeal was about to start.

   “You may begin, Hasan,” Greta said, her eyes intent on the terrified girl's face, “start slowly.”

   Hasan didn’t need a second invitation. Greta scarcely finished talking before he pushed the tip of his cock hard against Olivia’s sphincter. Unsurprisingly he met with much resistance; this one had plenty of fight in her. But Hasan wasn't going to lose a battle with a little cunt like this. Continuing to push forward with his cock, he used his body weight to increase the pressure on her arsehole. With his right hand, he stroked along the outside of her thigh and cheek, before bringing it down hard with a sickening slap which echoed around the room. He smiled as his large hand once again struck her powerfully on the rump, knowing from her high pitched yelp that it caused a great deal of pain. He slapped her another three times with his right hand and twice with his left, all the while pressing forcefully with his cock. As his left hand came down again, he heard another sound and looked up to see Greta’s hand resting against Olivia’s already reddening cheek.

   “Let him into your ass, Blondie,” Greta whispered almost tenderly into Olivia’s ear, “remember you exist only to please. Your master wants to fuck your virgin ass and you don’t have a choice. So can you relax for your master, baby? Or if you prefer you can do it for me, your mistress?”

   Behind Olivia’s closed eyes, tears welled and dripped down her face. What had she done to deserve this? She had always tried to be good, to treat people as she would like to be treated, even people she didn’t particularly like. She had even been civil to that creepy guy in the year below who had sent her those obscene pictures. She rarely said a bad word about anybody and yet here she was, strapped to a table about to be anally raped while a sadistic woman prepared to torture her. Though she had only been here for what she guessed was a few days yet it felt like a lifetime, her life before the dungeon just a mirage. And as if being at the mercy of these three here wasn’t bad enough, Greta’s patronising and faux loving tone made it worse, only reminding her of her helpless  situation. Talking to her as if she were a child, a pet or even someone complicit in this whole thing made Olivia feel less than human. Determined to resist as much as possible yet she would gain nothing now, only yet more pain and torture. So despite herself and with an almost overwhelming sense of shame, Olivia relaxed her rectum and reluctantly allowed Hasan inside her.

   It wasn’t much but that momentary relaxation of Olivia’s sphincter was enough for the tip of Hasan’s cock to slip past the tight ring of muscles and into her hot and inviting chute. Almost immediately, Olivia reflexively clenched around his cock as if it were possible to force it out but it was too late. This small incursion inside her would soon expand under his inexorable pressure. But it was so tight he half questioned whether he would even fit, though of course it wouldn’t be for a lack of trying. Readjusting his feet on the table to get a better position, he then gripped underneath her legs and tried to force himself inside her. Pulling up with his arms and using his legs to push his body into her, he began to move like a slow glacier further inside her. Olivia moaned as the massive invader painfully stretched her taut hole far beyond any constipation she had ever felt. It was painful for him too as with no lube, her dry walls caused a great deal of painful friction but it was worth it to feel the tightness and for him at least the pain would soon give way to pleasure. With his unstoppable entry already begun, Greta decided to have some fun.

    “There’s a good girl,” Greta once again whispered, “don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it, you little whore. Don’t fight it; just enjoy pleasing your master. Now open your eyes.” The last sentence was punctuated by another firm slap on Olivia’s cheek as Greta’s other hand reached round and squeezed a breast. Reluctantly, tears streaming down her face, Olivia opened her eyes. As she blinked away tears, she looked up at the man forcing his cock into her arse. In the candle's flickering light he looked terrifying, his face contorted into a twisted snarl of lust. Above her, Greta looked down with no emotion, not reacting at all as both of them intermittently groaned in pain and, in Hasan's case, pleasure. She didn’t take her eyes off Olivia’s pretty face as Hasan, taking almost three minutes, finally buried himself to the hilt in Olivia’s arse. He savoured it for a moment, not moving  but just relishing the firm warm grip of her arse chute on his throbbing shaft.  Greta once again leaned in, her sharp features made all the more intimidating by the flickering light.

   “Now, girl,” Greta said, her hand leaving Olivia’s breast and grasping the vial of oil she had brought over to the table, “you’re pleasuring your master nicely but you’re doing nothing for your mistress. You don’t want that, do you? And what does your mistress enjoy most of all?” Greta left a long pause, as if expecting Olivia to answer. While waiting, she poured a small amount of the oil into a metal pan and held it above the candle. “What pleases me most is watching my toys in pain. And considering you live to please me, you’ll enjoy the pain, won't you, slut?”

   Olivia had known some kind of torture was coming so Greta’s words didn’t shock her. Indeed her  arsehole was so painful she could barely concentrate on anything else. Given the tears and the pain of Hasan slowly pulling his cock out of her bum then plunging back in, Olivia couldn’t think about what Greta intended. So she didn't notice Greta heating a small pan of oil just inches from her face. She had been told to keep her eyes open and did, watching Hasan pull out his dick until just the tip was inside her and pushing forward again to her accompanying yelp, then repeating the action, each time forcing himself inside quicker and deeper. And now Olivia heard the sizzling near her ear. Her eyes flitted across to see the candle with the pan hovering just above it just in time to see Greta take up the sizzling metal plate and hold it directly above her chest.

   “I can assure you this will hurt, baby,” Greta said patronisingly, “but it won’t leave any lasting damage. We wouldn’t want to ruin that beautiful skin just yet, would we?” With that, she smiled at Olivia and tipped up the plate.

    When the oil touched Olivia's soft skin, her scream rang out around the room. Partly anticipating  the pain and from the pain itself, Olivia wailed loudly, her eyes scrunched up as if to block the searing heat. Her breast felt as if it had been set on fire, demoralising her with the feeling of  being forever horribly scarred by burns. She was caught in a maelstrom of pain, the agonising penetration of her anus combining with this boiling assault on her tit. Which Greta turned into a perfect shitstorm by covering both breasts in the burning oil, turning them an angry red where it touched but causing no lasting damage. Olivia didn’t know that. All her existence had become a sharp burning pain in a burning ocean of friction as Hasan quickened his strokes against her anal ring.

   As Greta prepared to torture her upper body, Hasan’s progress into her had become easier. A combination of his precum and her walls loosening slightly allowed him to now thrust further into her tight hole. He did just that, his hands tightening their grip on her hips as he leant over to get the best possible angle. Fucking almost vertically now, Hasan sped up even more, the vice like grip of her virgin walls sending him wild with desire and pleasure. Olivia’s scream as the oil hit her tit was a further aphrodisiac, as was the sheen it gave her perky chest as Greta rubbed it over both  breasts.

     “Lovely screaming,” Greta said, both hands pawing Olivia’s glistening mounds, “now let’s get these tits nice and oiled before I pour some more on. And I want you to scream just as you did before. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

    Olivia was far too distracted to hear Greta's words. Even if she had, she could not have answered the demeaning question for the pain she now felt blocked all thought. When Greta’s hands stopped roaming over her breasts, Olivia knew exactly where they were going and tried to mentally prepare for what was coming. This time Greta hid nothing from her victim, pouring the oil onto the plate right in front of her. As much as she did not want to see, Olivia knew Greta wanted her to and it would be prudent not to anger the hovering monster. As she moved the plate over the candle, Greta put the vial down and with her free hand traced one of Olivia’s wet nipples with a long finger. A few minutes passed while Hasan pounded in and out of Olivia until Greta heard the oil sizzling and moved it away from the flame. She closed her eyes to savour the next phase, waiting some time before once again dribbling the oil down. With a twisted smile, she gleefully listened to the tortured scream beneath her. She could listen to such screams till her dying day especially when she caused them. As the wailing turned to whimpering, Greta looked up to see Hasan nearing his climax.

   Olivia’s last scream sent Hasan almost over the edge. As the pain hit, she clenched every muscle in her body, the walls of her arse chute gripping him so tightly it almost hurt. Pulling up on her legs and  painfully arching her back even more, he buried every last millimetre of himself in her hole. Looking down at the shimmering reddened globes bouncing lightly on her chest, he couldn’t hold back. With an inarticulate roar, Hasan shook with pleasure, his prick shuddering and filling her bowels with a huge load of cum, his cock continuing to twitch inside her, each time squirting a thick wad of spunk deep into her tight rectum. Even as he softened, he enjoyed the friction heat of her arse around his dick. As the last spasms ended, he looked guiltily at Greta, detecting her annoyance at his finishing so soon. It was soon gone and Hasan hoped she would realise that Olivia’s arse was so tight he had lasted as long as he could. Greta beckoned him forward with a slight nod and Hasan slid his cock out of Olivia’s now slick arsehole with some reluctance and waddled, his legs either side of the girl,  toward her head, a trail of white and flecks of red sliming her midriff. As he knelt across her chest, Greta placed her hands either side of Olivia’s head and leaned in once again.

   “Sorry your ass fucking is over?” Greta whispered menacingly, “I know whores like you love that. Now it’s time to clean your master and to use that brand new tongue of yours. Don’t worry though, it’ll be easy. All you need to do is stick it out and let your master clean himself.”

   Olivia didn’t have time to do anything for when Greta finished, Hasan leaned forward and dangled his limp cock in her wide open-gagged mouth. Immediately she tasted his salty cum as the tip of his dick slid along her tongue, recoiling in part because of the taste and in part because she knew where it had been, trying to keep her tongue from Hasan’s prick as much as she could. But both the pain her tongue gave her and her bonds meant she couldn’t.

   “Stick out your tongue, bitch,” Greta screamed and slammed the table, “or I’ll cut it out!”

    With no choice, Olivia stuck out her tongue. It hurt but she could handle it and it was certainly preferable to whatever they would do if she didn’t obey. So she stuck it out - and discovered what Greta’s little operation had done. Opening her eyes for the first time since Hasan had come out of her arse, she was saw his dick dangling down to her mouth like an elephant’s trunk. At the back she could see her tongue snaking up, long enough to touch the base of his dick. It had been lengthened, not obscenely but enough to be noticeably different for the rest of her life. Yet more tears filled her eyes as he wiped his cock up and down her tongue.

   Hasan groaned at the soft touch of the bitch’s mouth on his prick, the sweet sensation making it twitch despite having just blown his load. He shuffled forward to bring his cock directly above her face then leant back and supported himself on her chest. As he moved his crotch up and down to clean his dick, his hands squeezed her slippery tits, knowing it would hurt. She couldn’t do much with her tongue yet so he moved his cock around, making sure to rub the grime off every inch. Now clean, he looked at Greta who nodded, indicating his work was done. Slowly he released his grip on her tits and levered himself off the table to the floor. When he had, Greta once again leant over Olivia’s face, the candle in her hand just centimetres from the girl’s head.

    “You did well, whore, “ she said, turning the candle round in her hand, “soon you’ll graduate to pleasuring your mistress like a proper cumslut. Now I’m going to leave you here to heal some more. That hanging piece of fuckmeat doesn’t need any light, it doesn’t deserve to see. But you’re a good girl so I wouldn’t want to leave you in the dark. Only problem is, if I leave the candle on the table,  the wax will drip and ruin it. So we'll have to find somewhere else to put it.” As she said this, Greta’s finger ran up her leg, across her cheeks and into her arsehole. Olivia knew immediately where it was going and briefly struggled, stopping in exhausted futility. Greta handed the candle to Hasan who began shaving the bottom into a cone with a knife while ensuring that Olivia saw what he was doing.

   “Here’s an idea!” Greta exclaimed with faux excitement, “we can use your newly popped ass as a little candle holder. You’d like that wouldn’t, you slut, having your ass stuffed with something nice and big?” With that Hasan took the candle, its flame still flickering, and gleefully worked it into Olivia’s still weakened arse. The tapering made it easy and he was buoyed by her mewling as he jammed the candle butt into her gaping hole. Hasan took a step back to admire his handiwork and Greta, still hovering over Olivia's face, looked over to see the candle jutting up out of the girl's arse.

   “My, my, you look so beautiful. You really are a good little girl, aren’t you? A perfect cumslut and now a perfect human candle holder. That red wax will drip over your pretty pink cunt, making it look lovely. Now you must rest for a bit but I’ll be back and we can put you to work. Sweet dreams.”  After kissing Olivia's forehead, the three sadists left. Behind them, a lonely figure, blind to the candle, occasionally kicked and twisted in the air like some cocooned prey in a spider's web and another lonely figure could only see between her legs as the large candle got lower and lower, its hot wax overflowing onto her shaved cunt and making her buck fitfully at the burning pain. And when the candle flame guttered out, there were only two blind girls mewling in the dark .

   

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    By the sixth bar, Hanneman felt like giving up. It was well past 2am and he could barely think straight, his head spinning from booze. Looking behind the bar, he could see the staff preparing to clear up as the night wound down. This would be his last attempt for the evening and he had little  optimism about the results. Like all the other establishments, he went up to the bar and asked the staff if they had seen the girls. A combination of the time and his dishevelled appearance meant the answers he received were unsurprisingly short and impatient, causing his despondency to grow. He put the girl's photos back in his folder, the area he’d hoped would be full of clues depressingly bare. Just as he was about to leave the bar for home, a lone man propping up the bar caught his attention.

   “Looking for those three English bitches?” he slurred, looking even less presentable than Hanneman.

   “The kidnapped girls yes,” Hanneman replied, slightly put out by how he’d referred to them, “do you know anything?”

   “Set of stuck up cunts they looked,” he continued, “gorgeous though. I wouldn’t have minded playing with them for a while if you know what I mean?”

   “Did you see them the night they disappeared?” the detective asked, his interest captured by the drunken man’s apparent knowledge of his targets.

  “Oh I saw them, sat in that booth over there. They were sat with two Turkish lads, all three of them really drunk. Can’t handle their drink, can they, the English.”

   “Turkish men?” Hanneman continued to press, getting excited that he might finally have a lead.

     “Yeah,” the old man slurred, a booze filled hiccup erupting as he spoke, “brown anyway, looked like Arabs. Those sluts were all over them, got drunk so fast. One minute they were just sitting there teasing, the next they were being carried out.”

       “The Turkish guys carried them out?”

     “Oh yeah, about to fuck their brains out I should think. One little one, tell you what…”

   “Did you see where they went?” Hanneman interrupted, not wanting to hear what the old pervert wanted to do to the girls.

    “Afraid not, they just carried the whores outside. I’ve seen one of the guys in here quite a lot. Come to think of it, I’m sure I’ve seen him working here before.”

   Hanneman turned to the barmaid with a quizzical look that asked if she knew anything about it. But the woman was in no mood to help. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the girls, indeed quite the opposite. When she had heard that three pretty 18 year olds were missing, she had shuddered at what they would now being going through, knowing there was only one reason somebody would take girls like that. Nor was she reluctant to talk to him in fear that the man who had taken them did indeed work at the bar. She was just a student working in a bar to pay her way through university, owing no allegiance to the establishment. The only reason she wasn’t being  helpful was that as the bar was closing, she had no time for the ramblings of two drunk middle aged perverts. That one had a police badge made no difference for she saw her fair share of washed up cops drowning their sorrows. Instead she looked with pity at the detective and rang the bell behind the bar.

   “Time!” she shouted and watched the last patrons stumble toward the door. Hanneman stood for a moment. He was close, he knew, but his only lead was a drunken old man who didn’t seem to care  about the girls he was seeking and if he was to find who was behind this and rescue his career he had to get as much information from him as he could. So as the man struggled to his feet Hanneman did the same, trying to look in control despite the amount he’d drunk. Both men staggered to the door, the barmaid sweeping up behind them, virtually pushing them out. Stumbling out of the bar Hanneman looked at the man as he swayed from side to side.

   “I’d love to pick your brains if that’s ok?” Hanneman asked, although he wasn’t sure if the man had heard as he stood staring down the street.

    “I gotta get home now,” the drink addled man replied, “But I’ll be here tomorrow, same time. You can buy me drinks all night and I’ll tell you everything I saw that night.”

   “You’ve got a deal,” Hanneman said, both men then leaving in opposite directions. He walked with a spring in his step or at least thought he did, the drink making him stumble along the pavement. But he had a lead! Which he couldn’t go back to the station with; the word of some drunken old man was hardly enough to revive his career. But it was a start. If he could just get more information, identify who these Turks were and follow that up then maybe, just maybe, he might break this case and give his sorry excuse for a life a modicum of meaning.  

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   Having bathed and allowed to rest, Lucy no longer struggled behind her guide but strode, if a little sheepishly, in her wake. Being reminded of her situation after merely asking the woman's name was a blow. Her horrible memories of the dungeon and even the horrors her friends were still enduring had dimmed. She had been brought back to earth with a bump, so despite being refreshed and rested she was emotionally drained. And the corridor seemed to stretch on forever which made her  wonder just how big this complex was or even where it was. The more she saw, the more sophisticated it became and her hope of escape corresponding shrank. Shaking her head to banish that thought, she tried to focus on looking straight ahead at the barely lit corridor.

  Reaching a door, the woman pressed a part of the wall and the door slowly opened. Wordlessly Lucy entered, her guide following, the door closing slowly behind. On a click, the room lit up and the far wall suddenly became transparent, revealing a sight which shocked and appalled her.

  The wall was obviously a one way mirror for the people didn't react to the lights coming on. Even if they could have, they were likely too distracted to notice. Lucy stared open mouthed. On one side was a woman wearing the same robe as Lucy with some differences. Her robe was a bright blood red, open all the way down, with a black-trimmed red corset tied very tightly around her stomach. Her large breasts were very obviously fake, standing up off her chest like two beach balls, the nipples impossibly erect. She wore long red leather thigh boots, widening at the top and reaching to just below a thick bush of black hair obscuring her pussy. She looked in her late thirties with a slender build, although her vampish makeup made it hard to tell. Three things struck Lucy immediately. One was how pale she was, her blue veins clearly visible in the room's dim light. The second was her shock of bright orange hair, clearly not her natural colour but so vibrant it was almost blinding. The third and by far the most striking thing, was the two metre long bamboo shaft she held.

  Opposite her was a figure equally frightening, a man holding an identical bamboo shaft whose entire body was covered in tattoos. Only his head and hands were not inked. Even his erect cock had a grotesque artwork of a spear whose end dripped blood, tattooed even onto his foreskin. Disgusting and shocking images adorned his body including a terrifying image on his stomach which Lucy assumed was the devil that roiled and twisted with every move the man made. His clothing was as bizarre as the woman's. Two studded leather straps criss-crossed his chest with small rings around his pierced nipples. The two straps connected to a leather jock strap running around his waist with a small loop pulled so tight around his scrotum that it was swollen purple. He wore a thick leather choker studded with metal around his neck. In contrast to the woman's stony expression, a twisted grin contorted his face, his forked tongue sticking out and dancing with delight. Lucy physically gasped when she saw him; even through the glass the man terrified her.

  Such was the man's grotesque nature that Lucy did not immediately see the room's third person.  Once seen, her heart sank. Two thick brown ropes hung from the ceiling, suspending a girl by one leg and one arm. Her face was misery incarnate, so streaked with tears and contorted in agony that Lucy could not clearly see her features. But she could see her battered body, her richly tanned skin covered in long red welts, no doubt the work of those vicious bamboo staves. Barely an inch wasn't marked, evidence of a sustained barrage of sadistic blows. Her crotch in particular was red, her labia having turned from a deep brown to a vivid throbbing red. Although her breasts hung horizontally across her chest due to how she was suspended, they were clearly large and pert, indicating a girl in her late teens or early twenties. But countless stripes also covered them. A thin rivulet of blood flowed down the girl's suspended leg, her attempts to escape the scything blows obviously causing the ropes binding her to chafe her skin painfully. It was a scene out of an extreme BDSM porn film but Lucy knew that these were no actors and the suspended girl had given no consent.

  As Lucy looked on, the action continued. Behind the girl, the man raised the stick and then, with an animalistic roar, eyes wide and mouth contorted into a grotesque smile, cracked the thick cylinder of bamboo squarely between the girl's throbbing pussy lips. A banshee like wail filled Lucy's ears and completely drowned the sound of the blow and the man's cackling laughter. As the scream died, the woman in front of the girl raised her staff and smashed it onto her stomach. The blow's force made the girl jerk in her bonds and give another spine tingling scream, bringing a small smile to the face of the scarlet clad woman. As the man raised his staff again, Lucy turned to the woman behind her.

  "Please," Lucy pleaded with a tear in her eye," don't make me watch."

  "You must watch," the woman replied, completely unmoved by the brutal beating, "for soon that will be you."

  Lucy's eyes opened wide. She couldn't believe what she had just been told. The woman had said she had been chosen, that she wouldn't be tortured of raped by men or women; now she was being told otherwise. If she was beaten like the girl in the chamber, Lucy was sure she would either die or go insane. Nothing she had endured at the hands of those sadists in the dungeon had been as bad as what she saw now. With her eyes still pleading, Lucy began to beg.

  "No, please, you can't let them do it!   I can't take that! Please I'll do anything! Please..."

  "Quiet!" The woman snapped, visibly irritated at Lucy's pleas, "You will do what you are told. I said it would be job to please your masters. Your masters do not just want you to fuck. They can fuck any of the cheap whores in here as easy as they like. They want you to fuck them. You will learn how to truly please a man or woman with your body. But your masters will want more than that which is  why you have been chosen. You already showed you can do it when beat your friend. Soon you will be aiding your masters when they torture girls. Soon you will enjoy it. Just like her."

  Lucy looked back to the chamber as another blow hit the girl's back. She had got it wrong. She was not intended to be the girl suspended from the ceiling. Instead she looked at the woman in red, laughing at the tanned girl's agonised screeches. She couldn't believe the evil woman so savagely beating a helpless and innocent girl had once been like her. Surely they didn't expect Lucy to take pleasure from somebody else's suffering? How could a normal girl like her enjoy putting somebody through so much pain? Then she remembered what she already done. How she had beaten Holly's breasts with the paddle as she fucked her. How she had ground her pussy into her friend's face just so she could cum. How she had got carried away and almost cum as she watched Holly being double penetrated and whipped. Lucy's heart sank, realising that she was already part-way to being that woman. She was no longer who she had been when she had been abducted. As she watched the  woman viciously hit the screaming girl's tits, Lucy knew she was looking at her future.

                                                    ---------------------------------------------------------

      Stepping into the small passport office, Jeremiah tried to look confident but didn’t feel it. He knew this second part of the journey could go badly wrong with severe consequences for himself. But, smiling broadly, he prodded the woman in front, nudging her toward the squat little man behind the desk. Coming in on his own personal privately chartered plane meant no crowd to wade through, no clamouring masses who might give him away. In truth this was far less dangerous than when he had left the States with his precious cargo but he was still apprehensive. He watched nervously as the blonde handed her passport to the man behind the glass who studied it intently, looking from the girl to the document numerous times. Unable to see her face, Jeremiah had no idea if she was secretly telling him something was wrong. His heart skipped a beat as the man looked over her shoulder at him, his beady little eyes behind his spectacles seemingly filled with great distrust. When the man eventually smiled and handed the passport back, he was relieved. Tentatively the girl took the document and walked to the side, leaving Jeremiah next in the queue.

   “Wait for me there, darling,” he called out in his Texan drawl, stopping her in his tracks. It had been a magnificent flight, truly the best he had ever had. It hadn’t started like that. Moving through the airport hadn’t been easy. If having a private jet meant he avoided the busiest part of the airport yet plenty of people could have rumbled him at any time. He knew the case of the missing college girl had received national attention and as he walked with the stunning blonde he had kidnapped, he had been terrified somebody would recognise her. He had her dressed in a low cap to obscure most of her face from a glance but when she had handed in her passport he had been almost shaking with fear. Of course he had warned her of what would happen if she tried to reveal who she really was but he knew that if she did he could do nothing about it. Thankfully she hadn’t known that and had gone along with it. Just fifteen minutes later they were on his plane; Jeremiah, Melissa and his bodyguard Tyrus with six hours to kill. Of course they had not wasted much time. While Tyrus made his employer a stiff drink, Jeremiah had Melissa strip which she had done many time since he had taken her. Knowing he would punish her severely if she didn’t obey, the girl instantly whipped off the baggy layer of clothes he had forced her to wear to reveal the skimpiest little vest and hot pants combination. He quickly put on some cheesy strip tease music and she began to gyrate, knowing it pleased him if she moved like a skanky stripper. Of course it wouldn’t be Jeremiah without some physical pain, the thin wooden cane he always kept on the plane encouraging her often. While her hands roamed over her young athletic body, he laughed each time he smacked her. She had yelped at each blow but had continued stoically, first lifting up her tight top to reveal her glorious breasts before removing the hot pants and spreading her legs wide to show her two tight holes. To the uninitiated she seemed to enjoy it, seemingly completely broken in just three weeks, but not so. Instead she was simply seeking to avoid further punishment, her survival instincts hoping that pleasing the man would spare her his most savage wrath.

   When Tyrus returned, they had not been kind to the girl, spanking her arse till it was red, pinching and twisting her nipples till they were puffy and swollen, tying her up in various uncomfortable positions, pulling her hair so hard they had nearly ripped it out and inserting all sorts of objects, their dicks among them, into her various holes. A personal highlight for Jeremiah had been her choking on Tyrus’ huge black cock while he fucked her with a champagne bottle, stretching her pussy further than he ever had. Of course she had screamed and squealed through their hours of abuse but it didn’t matter; the two pilots were paid handsomely to say nothing. After a whirlwind few hours of assaulting the poor girl, they decided to sleep, bending her body into a tight bow and leaving her like that while they rested. Then just a few minutes before touching down, they set upon her again, handling her as roughly as before. Then Tyrus held her down while Jeremiah dressed her ready for the journey. He towered over her, holding a pair of black shorts with two thick dildos sticking up on the inside. Despite Melissa’s struggles, he eventually inserted both into her arse and cunt. After dressing her, he then sat her down in her seat, pulled out a remote control and switched it on. As the two dildos began vibrating vigorously inside her, she immediately jumped up as much as her seatbelt allowed. The two men laughed as she squirmed to escape but she had strict instructions not to. Her first orgasm was perfectly timed, her knees going weak just as she stepped off the plane.

  Of course he had turned it off as she approached passport control but as she passed him, he reached into his pocket and flicked it back on, smiling as he watched her shake with the sudden vibration. He had gotten his prize through the difficult part of his journey, although for her the hardship was just beginning. Confidently he strode to the booth and handed his passport to the man who examined it. This time Jeremiah wasn’t worried at all. With a forced smile that sat badly on his rubbery face, the man handed the passport back.

   “Zere you go, Herr Johnson,” the man said, his broken English delivered in a thick German accent, “I hope you and your daughter enjoy your stay in Germany.”

  “Oh, I intend to.”

   Flickering on the wall in an eerie intermittent glow like some bizarre puppet show, a dark figure twisted and jerked in mid-air, dancing a strange jig as the candle’s light moved with every draught. The room’s almost dead silence, save for the occasional creak or whimper, made the movement  even more odd, disjointed and unhuman. And in a sense it was. The shadow was no inanimate puppet or flickering light show but outlined what had been an innocent and beautiful young woman. Now still, the latex clad object dangling limply from the rafters looked no more human than its shadow, a grotesque husk of what she had been. If she could have seen herself, Holly wouldn’t have recognised the girl who walked into the bar that fateful night.

   With a face just a sheen of black barely hinting at features and eyes covered in a thick black leather blindfold, Holly’s black blindness mirrored her fractured mind. A blessing perhaps for in a pitch black world, she could not see what had been done to her body. If Holly’s mountainous chest had always attracted male leers, now it was not just the size of her huge breasts that caught the gaze. Battered, bruised and swollen, her pale luscious mounds were now bulbous globes of pain, the soft white flesh now scarlet as the ropes below each tit bit hard into a flesh overlain by a patchwork of variegated bruises whose colours and shapes resembled countries in a nightmarish red atlas. Most striking were her swollen pierced nipples which leaked a white fluid like marbled fat in meat, running zig-zag down her boobs to saturate the rope wrapped around her chest and dribble further down her gleaming jet black body. Following her smooth contours, converging into two white rivers running down her black legs and over her encased feet, they dripped drop by drop off her toes into a growing puddle on the floor. The supply was constant, the viscous liquid resembling a solid line of chalk. But Holly had no sense of this, unable to distinguish her nipples’ discomfort from other pain. Blind and in an almost silent room, she could almost have rested – except that all of her was in pain, ranging from mild discomfort to a constant deep throbbing agony of her battered tits. And her head was filled not just with pain but a terrible fear that she would never escape this living hell.

  

   Across the room, Olivia was equally tightly and uncomfortably bound. When Greta left, it was just  bearable but her position forced Olivia to look up at the candle jammed into her arsehole and so, when the first drop of hot wax ran onto her perineum, she was not surprised. After many minutes, it ran onto her sensitive labia, covering her crotch in wax. But when the flame heating the wax burnt level with her arse cheeks, she suddenly felt an area numb since her anal rape. As it melted in her newly ravaged arsehole, she began to whine in pain and as it melted even deeper into her rectum, her noises soon turned the basement from near silence into a chamber of pain filled screams. After hours of pain in the flickering light, the candle finally burnt out and the girls were in darkness. But now, after lying on a hard wooden table with her legs bent painfully up by her head for hours, Olivia was getting frequent excruciating cramps. Being bound in such a position for so long took its toll despite a flexibility allowing her to endure longer than most women. Each time the agony exploded along her legs, she squealed through the open gag, her inarticulate piercing screeches shattering the basement’s dark silence.

                                                                    -------------------------------------

   White gravel crackled beneath black tyres as a heavy car rolled up a magnificent driveway of a stone castle rising above, back-grounded by mountains. It almost seemed the movie-set home of a villain from a James Bond film and was certainly equally malevolent. As the car stopped at the stone steps of the entrance, Jeremiah smiled in pleasant recollection. This time though was different for, unlike his previous visits, he had not come empty handed. This time he had a sweat covered toy.

    After the exhausting journey from the airport, Melissa now lay on the car’s luxurious leather seat, her large chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. A soft humming sound came from her crotch as Jeremiah twiddled his thumb on a small black box and she jumped as the sound increased and vibrations shuddered through her body. Squeezing her legs together to stop the dildos from vibrating so powerfully, she sat upright and forced her feet into the floor. In vain. She had tried to stop it before and couldn’t, her efforts belied by her sweat covered body and saturated clothes. To her right Tyrus mockingly laughed. Closing her eyes as the vibrations took effect, Melissa tried to think about something, anything else but it was impossible. Hours of near constant stimulation and lubrication had made her pussy incredibly sore, the vibrations causing far more pain than pleasure. But still her body responded, again lubricating her already wet. Accepting the inevitable, Melissa tried to enjoy the brief respite from pain as yet another orgasm began to build.

  She still wore the baggy clothes of the airport so her body would not keep Jeremiah from sleeping. A bonus was seeing the crotch of her light grey tracksuit bottoms turn a wet soggy black from all the  stimulation and it took great willpower not to rip the bitch’s clothes off and drive his cock into her dripping cunt. But in the next few days he would cum so much that he had to pace himself. When young he had used his wealth to just bang girls, his taste pure vanilla. Even after marrying a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader 20 years ago, he had only done some light bondage. It took time to find  the side of him that now bought him halfway across the world. As his wife’s libido fell, he discovered at 38 his rather unusual preferences through internet bondage porn, BDSM books and literature and an occasional illicit meeting with submissive sexual partners.  Escalating quickly, delving deep into the dark web to view more extreme torture porn, he then visited Greta Schweinberg’s infamous castle. Where he was right now, reviewing his journey to what he now regarded as a sacred place. Fiddling with the black box controlling the vibrators stuffed into Melissa, he smiled as she jumped and tried to stifle her unwanted climax. Then he heard footsteps on the gravel outside.

   Melissa had been close to reluctant orgasm when Jeremiah dialed in its highest setting, her body shaking so violently that she could not stop her teeth chattering. And then after a moment of O-ing  silence, her swollen clitoris and pussy pushed her into a flailing form writhing on the limousine’s leather seat, screeching her strongest orgasm of the day. Just then the door abruptly opened and a shaft of daylight sliced into the car. As the vibrating bullets inside her mercifully stopped, Melissa looked at the open door where she saw a face and then that it was female. Seeing a woman for the first time in her captivity filled her with hope. Which lasted a second before being taken away.

     “Welcome back, Mr Johnson,” the Asian woman said, completely ignoring the sweaty panting woman across from the fat American, “would you like help with your cargo?”

   Melissa was stunned. A woman was helping the man who had raped and tortured her! And had even referred to her as ‘cargo’! Even as she lay there panting and sweating from multiple forced orgasms, aching from weeks of sustained torture, this woman showed no interest in helping her. She looked helplessly around but clearly nobody here, wherever it was, would help her.

   “No, thank you,” Jeremiah replied, “she’ll do as I say. Come on, girl, out!”

   His sharp tone required Melissa to obey or face his wrath. Her body ached but she steadied her buckling legs with her hands and, bent over, staggered like a newly born foal slowly to the door. Since the vibrators made extending her legs difficult, she paused there to work out how to step down. Given her weakness, the sudden firm slap on her arse made her legs collapse and, unable to hold on, she sprawled out of the car onto the stony gravel.

   As the two men cackled in laughter, the blonde lay on the drive, hurt and humiliated. The Asian woman looked on. She didn’t enjoy odious foreign men treating women in an infantile way just to get off and often pitied the women who were sadists’ playthings. Still she did nothing. Blood trickling from a cut on her forehead, Melissa struggled up, looking at the woman for aid. But the Asian knew that helping her would earn a one way ticket to a torture chamber and ignored her. The blonde did not know this, viewing her as just another cruel person who loved inflicting pain. But the elegant woman, dressed in black, knew where she had come from and what she had left behind.

   As their laughter died, Jeremiah began the significant task of hauling himself out of the low riding car. Gripping the rim with thick sausage-like fingers, he slowly swung his legs out, his cowboy boots crunching the gravel. Now came the hard part. First steadying himself, he swayed back and forth  then took a huge breath and used his momentum to pull himself out of the car. Though red with the exertion, the woman didn’t help; he was be far too proud to accept and would immediately report her to the castle owner. Like an elephant raising itself in the morning, he hauled himself up, his groans and creaks from the car’s suspension filling the air. Finally standing, he paused to catch his breath and readjust his belt before smiling at the woman, totally unembarrassed by his struggle to get out of a car. Behind him, slim and athletic, Tyrus patiently waited.

   “This way please, Mr Johnson,” the woman said as she turned and started toward the castle, her long high heels requiring intense concentration to walk fluidly on the loose gravel.

   Stiff from the journey, Jeremiah stretched and looked at his surroundings, the towering peaks of this stunning valley far different from the barren desert of his Texan oilfields or the drab cityscape around his Dallas office. Jeremiah was not awed by it. He was not a student of culture or nature and his tremendous wealth had not changed that. For him the real sights of this place lay inside. He had been waiting long enough and it was time to do what he enjoyed most.

   “Quickly,” Jeremiah snapped to his captive, “there’s a lot in store for you inside.”

   His chuckle after the comment made Melissa’s skin crawl as she stumbled toward the castle’s massive stone steps. Turning her head as much as she dared, she took in the jaw dropping scenery.  She normally enjoyed looking at mountains and sweeping valleys but these only inspired dread. Even if she escaped, there was nothing around to help. What’s more, it was hardly inconspicuous and yet she already had a sense of what went on here. How could such a place exist in 21st century Europe? But her musings did not solve her problem and her dawdling now drew her captor’s ire.

   “Move, cunt!” Jeremiah barked so loudly he clearly wasn’t worried about being overheard.

   With her legs still weak, she took uncertain small steps and, her confidence shot, was unsure where to put her arms. Her self-esteem was so low that she now meekly decided to hold them across her chest. Acutely aware of eyes boring into her back, crossing the massive driveway to the steps took an age. As the dribble of constant orgasms dried on her legs and her wet underwear started to chafe, she kept her head down and climbed, the clicking heels of the Asian woman always before her. At the top, the woman waited at a huge wooden door and she also stopped, desperate not to go in. As her tormentor wheezingly approached, his inability to even climb stairs easily only worsened her disgust and shame. With a tremendous sigh, he arrived and Melissa shuddered.

   Behind her, Jeremiah paused for breath. On first coming here nearly twenty years ago, he had bounded up these steps, excited at what lay in store for him. Now he could barely crawl up. But it didn’t bother him for regardless of how he got here, when he did he would enjoy its delights just the same. Still wheezing heavily, he waddled over to Melissa and placed his hand on her arse.

   “Pretty darn impressive, isn’t it?” he asked, speaking to her as a father might a daughter, though of course not wanting an answer, “Just wait till you see what’s inside. I can’t wait to see what you make of everything, baby. And I promise, if you pay attention, it’ll be very educational. Shall we go in?”

   Giving her firm rump a squeeze and a slap, he walked on. With no chance of escape, she  reluctantly started forward as the Asian woman pushed against the stone archway of the door and the great wooden panel swung open. As the four of them went in, her heart sank.

                                     ----------------------------------------------------------------------

   Lucy blankly stared at the wall, transfixed by images of what she had seen and her own disturbing thoughts. It was like repeatedly watching a movie where the thwack of staves on the hanging girl’s body and her piercing screams were the soundtrack to images of the red haired woman and the grotesquely tattooed man gleefully smiling as they brutally beat the girl. But it was not a mental patient’s stare, blankly seeing troubling images. When the woman had returned her, she had tightly hugged the blue robe to her slender frame and sat, thinking. Surviving here clearly meant obeying orders or suffer terrible punishment, not only to her but her friends whose whereabouts and fate she knew nothing. More disturbing than captivity or being fucked everyday was that she, a cold but ultimately kind hearted girl, was expected to inflict terrible pain on innocent people. As she considered how she could ever bring herself to do that, the door suddenly opened.

   Scarlet filled the gap and Lucy physically recoiled, backing up to the wall. The woman she was thinking of was even more intimidating in person than seen through the glass. Despite ludicrously high leather boots, she still stood over six feet tall and her appearance terrified the teenager. With orange hair so bright it almost gave off light, a heavily made up alabaster complexion and tightly cinched-in corseted waist she looked almost other-worldly. And if now her red robe was not open but tied, little was left to the imagination as her obscene breasts pushed against the thin silk and her nipples looked like bursting through. But her green eyes looked at Lucy impassively.

   When the woman threw down a pair of heels, Lucy slid off the bed to sit next to them. It felt like forever since she had anything on her feet and as one who loved fashion, she was quite excited. The shoes were nice, almost ones she might have picked herself. Sliding her feet in, she wasn’t surprised at the perfect fit; this operation was well organised and getting this detail right was easy. As she tied the straps, she tried to enjoy the small familiarity before being again forced to do, witness or endure something horrible. Finished, she stayed seated, passively resisting whatever was next.

   “Get up,” the woman said in a strong Eastern European accent, “you come with me.”

   Unlike last time, this woman didn’t turn and expect her to come but just waited. Standing up, Lucy found the heels higher than she usually wore but not unmanageably so. Slowly and a little ungainly, she walked to the door, expecting the woman to turn and lead on. When she didn’t, Lucy nearly walked into her massive chest. Unsure of what to do, she meekly waited for her next order.

   “Stand straight,” the woman barked, “let me look at you.”

   Standing up, Lucy raised her head and chin, trying to look confident and avoid further humiliation. The red headed woman looked at her then circled, examining her body with eyes and hands. When she grabbed her arse, the girl flinched but stayed composed, the grab nothing to what she had already endured. Continuing to poke and prod, the long nails easily felt through the thin silk gown, she moved to Lucy’s front and used both hands to clasp her breasts, tracing the outline and then slightly squeezing them as if inspecting fruit. Then, seemingly satisfied, she put her hands down.

   “Not bad,” the woman said and Lucy was strangely relieved to have passed the test, “nice tight ass, good legs, thin. Tits small but I don’t think for long. Let’s go.”

   As she turned and strode off, hair and robe flowing, Lucy followed, feeling strangely ungainly on the heels and shocked by the penultimate sentence. She had always been proud that her breasts were decent enough for a cleavage, big enough for men to love playing with during sex and small enough to wear any dress without a bra. She didn’t envy her friends their more ample chests but now this bizarre woman was talking about making her a freak like her. But with nothing to do about it now, Lucy just followed, looking and thinking. Where the Asian woman had been in total control of herself and situation, this one looked different, her walk far less graceful, her control artificial, really not one who decided her own fate. If not comforting, for the first time Lucy felt a sense of power.

   Acting on this new inner strength, Lucy moved faster to catch up. The corridor seemed longer than before but then she realised they were going in the other direction. Adjusted to the heels, she now strode confidently behind the red robe, almost appearing to be the one in control, her grace and poise far exceeding the woman in front. Lucy couldn’t know it but that thinking was intended. When the woman came to a heavy wooden door, Lucy instantly noticed she knocked, unlike her previous guide who had pressed her hand to the stone. When it opened and they walked through, Lucy expected to see someone at the door but there was nobody. But people were there.

   This room was neither a dark cell nor filled with the sight and sound of sex but draped in purple velvet. Wearing different coloured robes of the same design as Lucy’s, women stood or sat on chairs or couches, all silent and oblivious to the others with only the eerie chiming of some gentle Oriental music breaking the quiet. When the two entered, no-one even looked to note the woman’s bizarre appearance. Fearing reprisals, Lucy didn’t ask what was going on and so merely waited for some cue.

   Leaving Lucy, the woman strode to the end wall and sat on a couch. As the door clicked closed, for the first time Lucy was free of threat but had no idea of what to do and just walked after the woman, trying to project control. It was like walking into a prison yard where how she acted determined her standing. On the wall was a small ticket dispenser and despite no idea of its purpose, she took a number - ‘64’ - then made for a velvet chair and sat down. Suddenly there was a loud beeping and Lucy looked up, convinced she had done something wrong. Everyone was looking at a screen above the door which displayed a bright red ‘42’. As the other women looked away, a woman from the back approached the opening door and left. Since taking a ticket was no mistake, Lucy relaxed and settled down to wait with a mix of fear and some small curiosity for her number to appear.

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   As he looked at the man swaying in his chair, Daniel Hanneman began to think it all a complete waste of time and money. The first drink he bought him was clearly not his first and sipping his own double whiskey, he thought about how to get anything from this sad excuse for a man.

   “So,” he said, edgily annoyed, “do you have ANY information about those three girls?”

   “Oh yeah,” the man slurred, his purpose in the bar coming back to him, “those three off the news. I did see them in this bar a few nights ago now you mention it.”

   “Yes,” the detective was exasperated, “you said that before. You also said they sat with two Turkish guys, do you remember that?”

   “I do!” the man exclaimed,  “sat in that booth over there. All three were drunk, falling about….”

   “Yes!” Daniel’s bark made others at the bar look at them. He was far too busy and the case far too important to repeat the same material over and over. If what he had learned last night was all the man knew then this was another wasted day. Which he’d had far too many of recently. “Can you tell me anything new? Have you seen the two Turks here before? You said one worked at the bar?”

   “Ah yes,” the man said, unperturbed by his irritated tone, “one does work here. He’s quite  unfriendly, only interested in the women who come here.”

   Finally, Daniel thought, he was getting somewhere. Of course this man’s story needed checking  but having one potential suspect was a start. But he needed more to take to his superiors. Over the next hours he tried, buying him drink after drink. It was largely fruitless, the man’s drunken ramblings often having no information at all. But just occasionally an useful snippet prompted Daniel to continue. One point was intriguing. The man recognised three of the women missing over the last few years, each time saying the same bartender and friend spoke to them. But after so many drinks, Daniel saw he would get nothing more. It was time to see what the bar staff could tell him. Thanking the man and leaving change to pay for the drinks, he headed for the bar.

   Behind the bar, the same short haired girl of the previous night watched the haggard detective approach. She had seen plenty of police officers down on their luck, drinking then making horrible leers and comments. She knew she had to take some customer abuse but when it came from those in authority it was worse. Still, she knew her job and as he came over she stopped drying the glass.

   “Can I help you, Sir?” she said with a professional smile.

   “Good evening, Miss,” the detective said, trying not to sound intoxicated, “as a matter of fact you can. I was wondering if I might have a few moments of your time?”

   The woman sighed before answering, knowing that since barely anybody was in the bar she could hardly claim to be busy. And men like this gave her most of her tips so it paid to be pleasant.

   “Of course,” she smiled.

   “Oh thank you,” Daniel was surprised she gave him any time at all, “I’d like to know if you knew anything about these three missing English girls?”

   The pretty girl’s eyes widened and she looked around uneasily. She had hoped the man had moved on from last night’s subject but clearly not. After going home she had thought about the girls while struggling to sleep. The more she thought the more she was convinced she had seen them and the more she realised how suspicious it was. She remembered them being taken outside too drunk to stand, by a guy she worked with and his friend. He’d started about eighteen months ago, seemingly out of nowhere and gave her the creeps. But what really worried her was that after taking them out, not unusual in itself, he hadn’t come back. After checking nervously, she leant over the bar.

   “Yes,” she said, “I think I do.”

   “Ok,” the detective said softly, “tell me everything you can.”

   Taking out his notebook and pen, his excitement was so great he had to stop himself from shaking but he tried to remain calm, the girl’s nervousness very clear. The testimony of some old drunk helped but his superiors would ridicule it. This was far more believable and for the first time  he might actually be taken seriously. As she nervously looked from side to side, he prepared to write.

   “Well,” she began, “I’m not 100% sure.”

   “That’s OK,” he said, desperate for any information, “Any information could help find these girls.”

   Encouraged, the girl told him what she knew. When he showed her pictures of other missing women, amazingly she recognised some and talked further. But soon she stopped.

   “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, “I have to close up now.”

   “Ok,” he said, “but write down your contact details so we can be in touch if we need  more help.”

   After she did, Hannemann gathered his stuff and left. In the cold night air, he felt braced by his progress and decided to go in tomorrow with his findings. Of course he needed more time to speak to this girl and perhaps do some recon but he couldn’t ignore the urgency. The chance of finding them after three days was slim to non-existent and help had to come now. So he readied himself for his biggest moment. That night, drifting off to sleep, the thought of being a hero filled his dreams.

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   Olivia had no idea how long she had been bound in the dark but she did know that every second was agony, her legs screaming in pain as the tight bondage kept her in throbbing stillness. Certain  irreparable damage had been done, her tortured mind was filled with images of being crippled, her legs stretched beyond recognition, her whole body a grotesque mess. Her other pains, her burnt crotch or bruised breasts were nothing to the burning pain in her lower body. Exhausted by her screams, all she could do was occasionally cry out, her ring-gagged mouth allowing only the most pathetic wails and mewls, the sounds adding to the creaking at the other side of the room. She was so desperate to escape this hell that on hearing heels click on the stone steps she felt relief.

   That the arrival of the girls’ chief tormentor evoked this emotion was no accident. Walking down the stairs, Greta knew what they felt, her control of her captives so great she could make them feel any emotion she chose, having often done so to many other women. Reaching the bottom, she strode into the room, her high heels very clear in the dungeon’s near silence. Counting her steps till level with the table, she then moved up to listen to the anguished sounds coming from the doubled up girl who whimpered even knowing her captor was listening and enjoying them. Silently smiling, Greta touched her taut hamstring. The blonde gasped and Greta chuckled as the muscle quivered uncontrollably. Rubbing her hand up and down the agonised limb, she leant in.

   “Does it hurt yet, baby?” she whispered, knowing full well the girl had been in agony for hours, “I bet even those beautiful toned legs are cramping up terribly by now. But do not worry, you will soon  be up and getting down to work. First though, I seem to remember I gave you a little something to keep you company but it seems to have gone out. Shall we have a look?”

   On that, a spotlight suddenly turned on. Olivia shut her eyes to lessen the light’s intensity but her eyelids still flashed painfully. Knowing it was coming, Greta had turned away. Now she looked at the remains of the candle jammed in the girl’s arse. A storm ravaged red sea covered her crotch and arse cheeks, bumps in the wax rising and falling like dunes in a barren desert. From the main body small rivulets ran down her back and beneath her breasts. Running a long finger down Olivia’s leg and onto the wax, Greta pressed it. Its firmness showed it had been cool for hours but the ring of pink skin round that sea of red was evidence that each drop of wax had burned, if only momentarily.

   “Ahhh,” Greta said as if genuinely excited, “that looks so pretty! Look at it!”

   Pulling her golden mane, Greta forced her head up, bending her body still more. Olivia opened her eyes. She had not looked at the candle jutting from her arse and hadn’t seen the full extent of her wax panties. Now she had to watch Greta move a finger to her arsehole, now completely corked with wax, and onto the red mound of her encased pussy. Tapping a long nail on the hardened shell, she then crashed Olivia’s head onto the table. Briefly blanking out, Olivia’s eyes flashed painfully.

   “Very pretty,” Greta whispered, “but sadly it cannot stay like that. You will not be much good with two holes blocked, will you? So I must get rid of it. But first, that horrible gag needs to come off.”

   Feeling for the buckle at the back of Olivia’s head, Greta undid the tiny clasp to release the leather strap. After working the metal ring out of Olivia’s teeth, she watched her react to her mouth’s newfound freedom. As always, the struggle amused her. Acting as if she had just woken from a night of drinking, mouth dry and lips wrinkled, the teenager tried to wet her mouth then remembered what had been done to her tongue and hesitated. Discovering the surgery still allowed almost normal use, she tentatively ran her tongue round her mouth as Greta clicked her fingers loudly.

   “That is much better.” Greta didn’t expect an answer as she held out her hand for Mehmet to give her a small plastic baton. Wrapping a hand in Olivia’s golden mane, she again pulled her head up as she weighed the baton and swished it slowly, tantalisingly through the air.

   “I will not insult your intelligence and lie,” Greta said, slowly swinging the baton up, “this is going to hurt. But you can watch and use that mouth of yours to finally please your mistress.”

   On that, she smashed the baton into the barely visible outline of Olivia’s hidden pussy. The impact was instantly drowned by her reverberating wail of agony which Greta enjoyed immensely. Her pain didn’t end with that sickening thump for her body involuntarily bucked in response. Tied so tight she couldn’t move, this caused an almighty spasm in her legs. And her torment was far from over.

   For Greta, Olivia’s noise just proved she was doing a good a job, a huge crack in the wax showing the soft skin beneath. Eagerly continuing, the black plastic crashed near the first, thudding into the girl’s crotch and exploding small shards of red wax from the surface to open yet another gash that  revealed more bronzed skin. Olivia scream was intense, her mind racing with images of horrendous bruises and broken bones. Her next swing squarely hit Olivia’s right arse cheek,  loosening a large chunk over the base of her pussy. Flicked away by her abuser, her inviting sex was at last exposed.

   Mehmet watched Greta’s fourth strike and listened to another piercing shriek in the theatre of screams. When he had seen the little teen, his cock had stiffened but now, watching Greta beat the girl so brutally, he felt annoyed. He had brought quite a few women here but since meeting her in the bar three nights ago, he could not get Olivia out of his head. Before talking to the three teens, the men decided to take them to the castle and so he’d convinced himself he wasn’t interested in what they said when she chatted on with a reckless easy-to-listen-to abandon. Though supposedly scouting them, he had found himself drawn to the little blonde. It hadn’t stopped him raping or hurting her but for some reason he didn’t quite understand, watching Greta crash another fierce blow on the girl’s pubes created a strange anger. He felt this one his; he had found her and only he should do this to her. Still, he knew his duty and if he interrupted Greta while she was working, well, he wasn’t sure what would happen but he didn’t care to find out. And so he stood watching as the sight of Olivia’s beautiful pink pussy stirred his lust once again.

   In a world of pain, Olivia wasn’t thinking of Mehmet at all. The excruciating stretching of her legs was now joined by the baton’s rhythmic pounding whose force felt great enough to shatter bones. Pulled up by her hair, she had to watch each sickening blow. If she hadn’t felt the pain she wouldn’t have thought it was her. The situation was so unbelievable she still subconsciously hoped it was all some awful dream, that she’d wake in a hospital having been spiked but safe. But these actions were real, real pain, real humiliation and real cruelty. As another blow slammed into her and another chunk fell away, the wax was now only strips criss-crossing her hips, streams running down her body and two plugs in her arse and cunt. Greta ran the tip of the baton over her two holes, tapping each one lightly. Watching in sheer terror, Olivia waited for the next terrible torture, imagining the baton being rammed deep into her. But Greta had something else in mind and put it down.

   “There we go,” Greta’s voice contrasted cheerily with Olivia’s misery, “that was not so bad, was it? Now, you cannot work with all those wax streaks so you are going upstairs. Time to get you up.”

   Greta pointed and Mehmet edged round to the cuffs binding her ankles. Pushing down on her calves, they undid the buckles strapping her feet to the table. Pushing up desperately, Olivia’s stretched legs tried to return to a natural position but her tormentors held them. On release, her legs swung round, slamming her heels into the hard wood. Again she screamed, first at the impact and then at the excruciating pain of her agonisingly stretched legs resuming to their normal position. By the time Greta undid her strapped arms and then the band holding her forehead, her screams had died to intermittent sobs. Mehmet then scooped the small girl off the table, tossed her over a shoulder like a rag doll and marched up the stairs, his thoughts about her seemingly forgotten.

   As they disappeared, Greta went to the room’s other girl. Holly didn’t know what had happened to Olivia but had heard her screams and as her torturer approached began to shake. Knowing her fear, Greta smiled broadly and stopped to look at the blindfolded specimen whose massive bulging tits were level with her face. Holly knew where she was but could only flinch as her sharp nails traced down the sensitive red skin of her mountainous breasts. Bound like this, Greta knew those magnificent tits were very sensitive, each touch of her sharp nails painful. Scratching along the bulbous flesh until she reached a nipple, she ran her finger through the white liquid and slowly mouthed it with a loud sucking noise as if tasting a luxurious chocolate. Then, running her palms along the bound mounds, she slapped them hard. Small drops of white arced across the room as Holly’s bound tits bounced from the impact and a soft muffled moan escaped her gagged mouth. Resting once again, more liquid oozed from her nipples to run the familiar path down her breasts.

   “Mmmm, delicious,” Greta spoke loudly for the girl to hear, “soon it will be ready to be put to work. I wish it could see how ridiculous it looks with its big udders sticking out and leaking. It better enjoy the next few hours because when I come down next, it will not be so comfortable.”

   Taking one last look, Greta then turned to follow Mehmet and Olivia up the stairs. For the first time Holly was alone. Her thoughts ran in a mouse wheel, uselessly circling what Greta had said. Being referred to as it, having her breasts slapped, pinched, scratched and abused in unimaginable ways,  being treated like an animal was “normal”. That Greta planned something even less comfortable than this worried her but that was intended and knowing that made it easier to bear. But one word troubled her: ‘leaking’. How could her breasts be ‘leaking’? What could possibly make them ‘leak’? She thought about the needle that had been jabbed into her breast. But what could it have done? And what was ‘leaking’? Blood? Water? Milk? All seemed implausible. Yet despite the pain Greta caused, the girls were, physically at least, almost the same as when they’d been captured. If they were rescued, she thought, there was no reason why they couldn’t return to their old lives but each passing torture made that hope fade. Holly knew she would never be mentally the same but now she wondered whether she would be physically intact. It made trying to be strong and not lose hope increasingly difficult. Every second wore her down and it was certainly true that things would not get any easier. If she knew what was coming, though, she would have despaired even more.

   Carrying Olivia’s limp body up the stairs, Mehmet cared little for Holly’s worries. His role was not to think about the minds of the girls coming through here but to shape their thoughts with his actions, hurt them, make them feel powerless and, most of all, enjoy himself. Early on he hadn’t understood this, merely obeying orders, fucking a long line of beautiful women and taking increasing pleasure in inflicting pain. Now, though knowing these girls were always changed here, he chose not to think about it. But now, walking up the stairs, he puzzled over what Olivia thought. Carrying her on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, an arm across her pert little bottom, he wondered. Did she despair? Did she have an inner strength and determination to resist? And now he was suddenly troubled by thoughts of why he was worrying about what this bitch thought. He hadn’t worried about others nor had his feelings made him any easier on her than them. He’d fucked and abused them all.

   On going through the door, he veered right then into another room. Olivia was out of the dungeon for the first time but didn’t care. Though fearful of the future, it couldn’t be worse than the past. Indeed when Mehmet slung her on his shoulder, she tried to enjoy it as a brief respite from crippling agony. “Respite” was relative of course since her pussy throbbed painfully from Greta’s battering, her legs ached from hours of cramp and her elongated tongue felt strange and alien. Still, Greta’s absence was a plus for if the two Turks had been unbelievably cruel, she was worse. Another plus was leaving Holly. The two had been friends for years, virtually inseparable since primary school and doing everything together. To see and hear Greta abuse her, both physically and verbally, was like being abused herself. The cruelty wouldn’t stop but at least she wouldn’t have to see or hear it.

   The room differed from the dark and dingy basement since it had the basic fittings of a prison cell: a small bed and a chair, a space for a toilet and shower. Kicking the door shut, Mehmet put her on the mattress and silently dragged a chair to the middle of the room. Plonking himself down facing the bed, he stared at the girl curled in misery, her legs up to her chest, covering her breasts as best she could and turning her hips toward the wall to hide her arse and pussy from his gaze. Despite the hours of tears, she still looked beautiful. Mehmet could have just sat and watched her but he had a deadline. Clicking his fingers loudly to get her attention, he spoke in his softest voice.

   “No time to sleep, baby,” Mehmet whispered, “you must be ready to work. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you but I have to clean you up.” He tailed off as he realised he shouldn’t be talking, reassuring her or anything. The whole point was to grind down these girls’ self esteem and courteously talking to her shattered the illusion. Looking at the blinking camera in the corner, he knew that if Greta investigated, she would catch his unprofessional moment and potentially detect his weakness for this girl. The consequences of this weren’t clear but he didn’t want to find out – Greta was not one to get on the wrong side of. But he could do nothing about it now and so just got on with his job.

   “Up.” Mehmet said but Olivia didn’t move. He wanted to give her time but now he couldn’t afford to be lenient. Angrily grabbing her, he lifted the small girl up, surprised she didn’t resist but merely hung limply, her head slumped against her chest. “Stand up,” he was annoyed, “or I will hurt you.”

   Knowing she had to obey, Olivia reluctantly straightened her legs to stand. They buckled at first, having not taken weight for many hours, but as he held her, she tried again and though her stiff legs  hurt, eventually stood. Showing a persistent mind-set, Olivia crossed one arm across her chest to hide her breasts and snaked the other down to her sex. Despite being naked over the last few days and having unspeakable things done to her, she still tried to modestly cover herself. Mehmet didn’t shatter her illusion but brushed her golden hair from her face and then tenderly, as if a doting lover, lifted up her chin. Olivia knew what he wanted and kept her eyes down, not wanting to look at one of her assailants but he kept lifting her chin. Considering it, she decided that though looking at him hurt emotionally, she could show her strength and resistance. So, reluctantly, she lifted her eyes.

    The Turk dwarfed Olivia’s slender 5’ frame. He wore only a pair of baggy sports shorts and she took in the milky coffee colour of his rippling torso, his roughly hewn jaw and hazel eyes. Tears welled as memories flashed back of having to look at him when first raped. Having cried many times in front of this man, she tried desperately to control herself but couldn’t. Barely seeing through a film of tears, she felt a hand grab the arm on her chest and briefly resisted. Knowing he would finally succeed, she stopped and with a heavy heart, felt it pulled away, revealing her pert breasts just as a tear dripped onto them. Quickly taking a beautifully formed breast, he looked at her face as he gently squeezed the soft globe of pliant flesh. Olivia tried not to react to her breasts being squeezed but, remembering how roughly he had treated them, she flinched. Still squeezing her tit, his other hand took the arm covering her sex. Again she resisted but a swift muscular tug pulled it away.

   Naked and exposed, Olivia stood as Mehmet softly fondled her breast and moved his other hand to her still waxy privates. Each pretty tit could fit into a hand but they looked large on her small body and no man would have complained about squeezing them. Mehmet certainly wasn’t and as he drank in her delicate features he could no longer stop himself. After telling him to get the girl ready, why would Greta bother to check? Part of his brain knew he could be throwing away his career or worse but another part didn’t care. Stroking the side of her face with one hand, he gripped her hair and leant in. Her mouth was slightly dry and her lips cracked but he still pressed his lips firmly to them, forcing his tongue into her mouth and not caring that she didn’t respond. Lost in a heady mix of lust and confusion, he kissed her passionately while tightening his grip on her tit. His cock throbbed in his pants and Olivia felt it rise, the fabric of his shorts rubbing her thighs. He could wait no longer; it was time to put Olivia’s new tongue to work. He stopped kissing to whisper

   “I want you to suck my cock,” he said breathlessly, “but I’ll be gentle.”

   Not waiting for agreement, still gripping her hair and breast, he led her to the bed and sat on the edge, pulling her to him and forcing her to kneel. Releasing her breast, he used his hand in her hair to force her face toward his crotch and rubbed her face over it, the fabric rough on his sensitive cock. Releasing her to pull down his shorts, his prick bouncing proudly up, he waited for her to obey.

   In the context of this whole nightmare, giving a blowjob was a fairly humane command. She stared  at the throbbing veiny cock, a paragon of masculine strength and virility but there was no reason to  delay. Gripping its base with a tiny hand, she peeked quickly at Mehmet’s face, his anger during her first rape now seeming like genuine tenderness. Extending her long tongue slightly, she bent over to  slowly engulf his cock’s engorged tip and then, responding to a soft appreciative moan, inched further down his shaft, getting halfway down before the head touched the back of her throat.

   As Olivia slid up until just the head was in her hot mouth before going down, Mehmet moaned again as her tongue rasped the sensitive underside of his dick, her dry mouth barely inhibiting his enjoyment. He looked down as she fellated him, her golden blonde hair cascading over his dick. As he brushed it out of her face, her eyes flicked up, the sight of her baby blues making it even more erotic. Still stroking her face as she bobbed down again, he took care not to push her down. He could face fuck a girl whenever he wanted but that wasn’t what he wanted now. He wanted to share a moment with a girl as he used to, a tender moment where the goal was not merely pain and pleasure but genuine human connection. Though spanking a woman or squeezing a big pair of tits while fucking a screaming babe was fun, part of him missed the fun of mutual passion. Looking at Olivia’s pretty head on his shaft, a semblance of that emotional connection returned.

   Her mind and mouth filled with dick, Olivia had no idea Mehmet was contemplating the value of human connection. Still, this was the most relaxed she had felt since being abducted. It wasn’t  enjoyment, no, but with no crippling pain or threat of imminent torture, she could focus on simply pleasing a man, something she had enjoyed before all this. An ex-boyfriend had first taught her how to suck cock, guiding her through her inexperience. In the two years before he went to university, she had done it many times, becoming not only proficient but enjoying it too, not so much in itself but from pleasing her partner. She had none of that satisfaction here. Even trying to please Mehmet and Hasan had only been to stave off some impending punishment. But this felt different. Here he seemed to be enjoying not just her blowjob but a moment alone with her. She couldn’t put her finger on why but it allowed her to relax and clear her mind of the horrors of the last few days.

   “Oh fuck yes,” Mehmet muttered under his breath, “jack my cock.”

   As her hand moved up and down, she rested her free arm on his leg and again went down on his cock, pushing it deeply in and speeding up her jacking off. His moans grew in intensity and the hand stroking her cheek now gripped her hair hard. Though he pushed his groin toward her, it was a far cry from Hasan’s face fucking. Breathing through her nose, she moved the cock in and out of her mouth, jerking the base up and down like a salt shaker. When he twitched, she knew he was close.

   “I’m cumming,” almost shouting, he stood up and pulled his cock from her mouth, “look at me.”

   Wide as dinner plates, her brilliant blue eyes looked on as Mehmet jerked himself off. With the tip of his cock just inches from her face, he came after only a few strokes, a thick blob of sticky white cum shooting from his dick in a line from her hair to the bridge of her cute button nose. With a loud roar, a second jet shot over an eye, welding it shut. Milking the last drops from his twitching cock, he squeezed his jism over her face. Looking at her, he knew he had betrayed his duty by sharing an intimate moment with a slave. And looking at her cum covered face, he knew he would do it again.

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   Their footsteps echoed loudly in the great marble hall. The brilliant white polished surfaces almost blinded the terrified American, the room’s splendour showing her situation as even more hopeless. When she hesitated, not knowing where to go, Jeremiah immediately verbally abused her.

   “That way, bitch,” he said loudly, his brash Texan personality showing no signs of abating as he  pointed to the hall’s far corner where a man and woman stood. Waddling as best she could with two dildos stuffed into her, Melissa soon saw a terrifying looking woman with peroxide blonde hair tied tight in a bun that pulled her skin taut on her bony face. She filled Melissa with sheer terror. Her perfectly tailored grey suit seemed more appropriate to a successful business woman than one in this business. The other was a very attractive man, tall, dark and handsome, dressed in a black shirt and trousers. The four stopped about a metre away and Jeremiah greeted the woman.

   “Ms. Schweinberg,” he said warmly, offering a fat hand which the woman took in her bony one.

   “Mr. Johnson, good to have you here again.” she replied, seemingly genuinely pleased to see him.

   “It’s great to be back, I can’t wait to get started!”

   “All in good time, old friend, all in good time.”

   Melissa was unable to take her eyes from the woman’s piercing features. When she looked at her, Melissa audibly gasped as her emerald green eyes locked on, her stare chilling.

   “So this is what you have brought,” Greta walked over, her eyes still fixed on Melissa’s, “very nice.”

   Melissa didn’t know what was happening but with no way to avoid this terrifying woman, she stood still as the woman came up. Though used to being treated as an object, she was still startled when Greta gripped her face, pinching and pulling her cheek as if hoping to find something amiss then grabbing her breasts as if inspecting them for some unknown sign. Even through the jumper’s thick material, she still felt the bony fingers squeeze her soft flesh. Examining her like furniture, Greta relaxed her grip to inspect the back, fondling her arse while Melissa stared into a middle distance, trying to ignore it all. Coming back round, Greta handling of Melissa’s cunt made her flinch. On Jeremiah’s sharp look, she stood still while Greta groped her pussy, probing the stuffed opening with a bony finger. Seemingly satisfied, Greta released her grip and turned to Jeremiah.

   “Very nice indeed,” Greta said to her friend, “tits, ass and cunt all seem in order. I am sure we will have plenty of fun with her. As for you, you will soon know how to behave.”

   Greta said this last with a snarl, surprising Melissa with the hatred she showed to a stranger. How could anybody refer to another person as ‘tits, ass and cunt’? But for all her many talents, Melissa knew that was all she was to these people. They had no respect for her or her achievements but only wanted hurt and abuse her. And she was sure that was not about to change any time soon.

   “We will get her sorted,” Greta said, ignoring Melissa, “bathed and ready to begin her lessons.”

   “Excellent,” Jeremiah said gleefully

   “Good, good. Now I will escort you to your quarters. I need to tell you some things about your entertainment. Take her downstairs.” As Greta turned, her heels loud on the marble floor, Jeremiah moved to Melissa.

   “Enjoy your stay, cunt,” he said gleefully, “by the end you’ll be the perfect obedient little slave.”

   With that, he followed Greta in animated conversation. As they disappeared, Melissa heard his fat   bellowing laugh and looked at the woman, hoping to be set free. A forlorn hope quickly snuffed out.

   “Follow,” she snapped, “quickly.”

   Obeying, Melissa followed the woman and dreaded what was in store for her. With good reason.

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   A creaking door signalled the next circle of Holly’s living hell. Still blind, she had no idea who it was  or what was coming. Not that she could do anything about it, trussed tightly, completely helpless and at the mercy of her tormentors. Clicking heels signalled Greta’s arrival and Holly’s heart sank, the tiny hope of someone rescuing her from this nightmarish horror gone. They had been missing for days; surely the police would find them. But a slim hope of future rescue did not help her situation now and as the heels came nearer, she knew more pain and humiliation was coming.

   “Get the cunt down.”

   The voice and tone was Greta’s, obviously standing just inches away. Hanging motionless, Holly  heard footsteps go to the wall followed by a whirring as the bar she was tied to was lowered. When  her latex clad feet touched the ground, she didn’t try to stand since it continued pushing her back down, making her kneel and forcing her sensitive bulging breasts into her knees. This was clearly intended for there was a slight pause before it started again, bending her further and making her whinny in pain. Her painful position seemed enough for it stopped and she felt the ropes binding her to the bar and constricting her tits being undone. A second later she groaned in agony as the blood rushed back, renewing the pain all over her beaten breasts. Her muffled groans lasted longer than anticipated for her breasts seemed surprisingly sensitive. But no longer bound, they still returned to their usual glorious shape, no longer firmly pressing into her knees but softly resting.

   “Bring it over here.”

   Suddenly pulled forward by her ponytail, Holly was dragged over the uneven stone floor, kicking her legs and screaming into her gag, her sensitive nipples rubbing painfully across the cold abrasive surface. Holding her hair like a lead, Hasan dragged her, snaking from side to side to prolong her agony, to drop her to the floor at Greta’s feet. Then, standing behind, he waited for the show.

   “Kneel!” Greta barked. Quickly scrambling to her knees, arse resting on her heels and back straight, the gagged and blindfolded girl waited for her next order. Greta looked at her pretty slave’s hidden  face, the blindfold and gag making her more like a sex toy than a human. The ponytail popping out the top and large nose ring only reinforced this. The latex body suit hugged the rest of her body, its tight fit exquisitely emphasising her curves. What showed the figure wasn’t a giant rubber doll were the two magnificent globes jutting from her chest. By supporting herself with hands on her knees, Holly’s tits were tightly squeezed together into a dream cleavage. The same injection that made her breasts ‘leak’ also swelled her tits even bigger than before. But though larger, they were still youthfully perfect, sitting high and proud on her chest. As he stared at her protruding breasts, Hasan was twitchingly desperate to handle them. Greta reached round to undo the gag and blindfold.

   Blind for so long, her doe-like eyes blinked in the light and she recoiled, shutting her eyes again. But she was determined to get used to it. Seeing gave her some control, allowing her to anticipate and prepare. Finally adjusting, she looked at the two figures towering over her, dressed as she had first seen them. Knowing how merciless they were, she just knelt and waited for their next abuse.

   “Hello again, Tits,” Greta said, squatting down level with Holly, “it has been a long time since it could see its masters. But something has changed since we last saw it. Stand.”

   Holly stood, eager to show as little resistance as possible. Walking slowly to her rear, the German pressed against her firm arse and reached round with both hands to squeeze her tits just behind the nipple. To Holly’s amazed horror, two jets of white liquid shot into the room from her breasts, almost reaching Hasan four feet away. She gasped again as Greta repeated the trick, squeezing two more streams from her tits. She knew what the liquid was but couldn’t believe it. At first she thought she was pregnant from being raped. But women lactated weeks after conception and her pre-captivity virginity made that impossible. No, the only explanation was the injection into her tits. As she stared at the milk on the floor, trying to grasp what had been done to her, Greta spoke.

   “Does it know what I just squeezed from its tits?”

   “Yes, mistress,” Holly said after a brief pause for she knew she couldn’t hesitate too long.

   “Well, what is it?”

   “Milk, mistress.”

   “And why does it have milk coming from its tits?”

  “Because…because that’s what mistress wants…” confused, she stammered, unsure of what to say.

   “Does it remember why it has the ring in its nose?”

   “Yes, mistress,” she said as the whole thing made more sense, “because it…”

   “This cunt!”

   “Because this cunt is a cow…?”

   “That is right, cunt!” Greta said, releasing her tits and walking in front of her, “Because it is a worthless fucking cow. Its ridiculous big udders make it good only for being fucked and milked. Does it see how its tits are even bigger now? Now it can please its masters even more. Is it pleased?”

   “Yes, mistress, thank you, mistress.”

   “It is welcome. Now it will show its appreciation by licking its own milk off the floor.”

   Holly paused then gingerly got on her hands and knees at the start of the line of milk. As she went down on her elbows, her huge tits hung down to touch the stone. Then, like an animal at a watering hole, she began to lap, licking along the stone and inching forward as she finished a section. She worked slowly for though the floor was relatively clean, it still had small bits of dust and stone. Inch by inch she licked her way to Hasan until, after five minutes of licking and trying not to wretch, she finally reached his shiny black shoes. She was about to stop when Hasan lifted his foot and she cleaned it with her tongue. With both feet done, Hasan stepped away, leaving her on the floor.

   “Thank you, mistress,” Holly was hoping for some brownie points. Feeling her breast prodded, she looked round to see Hasan poking his shoe into her soft flesh, clearly enjoying her vulnerability.

   “Never say its mistress never gives it anything. It is a very lucky cunt and should never forget that. Now it will follow its master upstairs to be prepared for a very special guest. But first it will listen. It will obey anybody it is told to. If I find out it has been a bad cunt then it will be severely punished. Remember, it is a worthless cunt and if it is bad, it can easily be destroyed. Does it understand?”

   “Yes, mistress,” she shuddered to think what was meant by ‘destroyed’.

   “Good, now get out of my sight!”

   Holly was about to get up when Hasan dangled a small leash in her eye line, then clipped it to the  gold ring in her nose. Yelping as he yanked her forward, she followed him across the dungeon to the stairs, walking on all fours and feeling totally worthless, Greta’s constant abuse clearly working. Silently she was led up the stairs, struggling to keep pace. When she slipped and fell, Hasan barely stopped, painfully tugging her nose ring until she got to her feet to follow him. At the top, they turned into a corridor and then through a door. Dropping the lead, he closed the door.

   As a professional, Hasan had none of Mehmet’s problems with Olivia. Sure, he’d squeeze the bitch’s gorgeous tits, suck some milk from them and slide his monster dick between those huge mounds. While preparing her, he would embarrass, humiliate and wherever possible hurt her but he couldn’t even imagine feeling anything for her other than lust. To him she was a sex slave, to be used and abused at her owner’s pleasure. He loved playing with these girls, especially ones as pretty and well endowed as this particular specimen. And if he missed having a woman fuck him as much as he fucked her, he only needed permission to visit a professional whore upstairs. All he wanted was here and he wouldn’t throw it away for some worthless thing. So, walking back to her, he thought of nothing but the fun he was about to have with her and her monster tits.

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   Tick, tock went the clock. Greta watched it intently. She had an appointment in an hour yet her entertainment for that hour was late and her impatience grew. Mehmet had more than enough time to clean Olivia, and for her to test drive that new tongue, he had to be HERE. Turning to the laptop on her desk, she moused over Surveillance. Perhaps Mehmet had disobeyed orders and violated the girl he had been charged with? Unlikely given his sterling service but she had been wrong about such men before. Clicking the icon to bring up all the cameras covering the house, she scrolled through to the room Mehmet had taken the girl to. It was empty. On their way presumably, but why so long? She rewound until she saw Mehmet and Olivia leaving the room later than they should have and then rewound further to see what had previously happened.  Then she heard a knock.

   “Come in,” she turned impatiently as Mehmet pushed a naked Olivia through the door. Excited at the new arrival, forgetting her suspicion, she closed the window just as Mehmet ejaculated.

   “Thank you, Mehmet,” she said courteously, her annoyance disappearing, “you may leave.”

   As he closed the door, the tall Turk was unaware of just how close he’d come to being caught. Now alone with Greta, a shivering Olivia was surprised by what she saw. A woman she’d only seen dressed like an extra from a horror film now stood at a desk wearing a sharp grey suit with her hair now styled into a far more flattering bun. And the room was the swankiest office Olivia had ever seen. No stone floor, chains, whips or torture devices; luxurious shag carpet, stylish décor, a gorgeous oil painting on the wall - and large windows with a breath-taking view of snow capped mountains on one side and wide sweeping U shaped valley on the other. If it wasn’t for a face that Olivia associated with terror and pain, she would think her just a business woman enjoying the perks of a prestigious job. Shivering, she subconsciously covered herself against the room’s chill.

   “Arms down,” Greta snapped, “never cover yourself in front of me. Over here.”

   Lowering her arms and walking toward the desk, the little blonde’s perky breasts jiggled slightly as her feet sank into the soft carpet and goose bumps rose on her soft bronzed skin. With the wax gone and both her holes unblocked, Mehmet had washed her and allowed her to relieve herself. Olivia’s flawless complexion made her look incredible even without make up. The sunlight streaming through the window made her blonde hair into a halo as she stopped at the desk. Walking round, her high heels making no noise, Greta’s eyes never left Olivia who looked ahead, her knees shaking as much with fear as cold. As part of her act, Greta absently checked how thoroughly Mehmet had done his job though she didn’t really think he hadn’t. With limited time, she was anxious to get on.

   “Open wide.”

   Taking a light-pen from her pocket, Greta probed her mouth and underneath her tongue. Her cut had healed perfectly. Keen to maintain her professional appearance, Greta stifled an excited smile.

   “You look cold?” Greta said to Olivia who didn’t realise it was a question at first, “Answer me!”

   “Yes,” Olivia answered, then adding quickly, “mistress.”

   “Well, we would not want that, would we, baby?” Greta stroked her face then went to a cabinet, turning round with an object that made Olivia gasp. Glinting in the light was a large conical sex toy or so she assumed, having heard of such things without ever actually seeing one. Its silvery rounded point expanded to what she thought an impossible girth before shrinking to a black plastic with a cable and plug trailing out the bottom. Putting it down and plugging it into the wall, she silently put   her desk chair in front of the menacing cone, then looked at Olivia and clicked her fingers.

   Shoulders slumped, Olivia moved to the German with shocked eyes fixed on the thing she had to  impale herself on. Even after being raped by the men’s giant cocks, as a small girl with only a small hole, she could not see herself getting onto it. But Greta would not let her pain be a reason not to do it. Standing next to the device, she looked pleadingly at Greta.

   “If you are cold,” Greta spoke like a parent to an unhappy child, “stick that up your twat, it will warm you up nicely.”

   She looked from Greta to the toy and then back at Greta’s raised eyebrow. With nothing to say, she looked down again at the giant glistening cone, not knowing how to even approach the task. It was clearly too big to fit inside her but with no choice, she knelt and tentatively shuffled forward until the tip just touched her pussy. And recoiled; the metal was not warm but freezing. Looking up questioningly, she was about to ask if this was really intended to ‘warm her up’ as Greta answered.

   “It will heat up when inside you. So unless you want me to do it for you, you need to hurry up.”

   Knowing Greta doing it for her would be painful, she ignored her fear of this thing “heating up” and moved her hips until the tip rested at her hole. Sniffling to prevent more tears, she lowered herself, the cold making her wince as it went in. At first it went in quite easily because of the cold metal and her dryness but halfway down, it was more difficult. Another inch and Olivia felt her walls so painfully stretched that going further would tear them apart. She tried again but it was impossible. Her eyes filling with tears at the strain, she looked at the blurred figure above her, thinking that even this woman could see that going further would permanently damage her. She was sorely mistaken.

   “Why have you stopped, whore!?” Greta snapped, bending down level with Olivia’s face.

    “Mistress,” Olivia replied, a tear running down her face, “I can’t go any further.”

   “Was I not clear, bitch!? I want it in your slutty little cunt! Am I to do all your work?”

   “No…no…please I’ll….”

   “Too late, you ungrateful English whore, after all I have done for you, you repay me by forcing me to do your job for you.”

   Grabbing Olivia’s pale pink nipples, Greta yanked down. Olivia squealed at both the pain from her breasts and her pussy being stretched still further. Even two more tugs on her breasts did not induce her to move much further down, despite significantly more pain. But Greta seemed untroubled and even smiled as she stood up, her crotch now level with Olivia’s tear stained face. Placing her bony hands on the girl’s golden hair, she slowly ran them to her narrow shoulders. And pushed.

   Forced down with a sudden thump, a momentary pause was followed by a blood curdling scream.  Her banshee wail cutting the air, Olivia’s stretched pussy was pushed over the cone’s widest part to  close up over its thinner part.  But if her young supple sex closing with the entire cone inside her was painful, it was not the primary reason for her scream. Nor was it her legs being spread painfully wide by being forced down. It was the tip rammed excruciatingly into her cervix that made Olivia continue shrieking. The agony just did not decrease, the intense wave of pain lingering on and on. Indeed she screamed for an eternity of ten seconds. As this most piercing agony very slowly lessened, she stopped screaming but the continuing ache was so painful she still wept, a weeping intensified by seeing the outline of the cone’s widest part visibly distending her taut skin. To relieve some pressure in her hole and on her cervix, Olivia shuffled her knees together as much as the toy allowed, to raise the base off the ground. Then the sobbing girl knelt motionless, her heavy breathing making her reddened breasts bounce slowly, to wait for whatever Greta would do next.

   “Should have done it yourself, eh, cunt?” Greta said, “Now show how sorry you are.”

   Taking off her jacket, Greta meticulously folded it and put it on her desk, doing the same with her shirt, tailored trousers and bra and knickers. Then, taking a small black item the size of an electronic car key and still wearing her high heels, she turned and sat on her chair, her pussy about a foot from the kneeling girl. Olivia blinked away some tears and for the first time stared at Greta’s naked body. Her skin was in good condition for one probably in her 40s. With not an ounce of extra fat, she was lean and obviously muscular, good definition to her abs, her breasts little more than puffy nipples. If anything, the super fit German looked even more intimidating without her leather.  Olivia had seen that pussy with its triangular crown of short blonde hair before and knew what she had to do.

   “Stick that tongue out,” on command, Olivia obeyed, “Yah, good. You know what to do now.”

   “Yes, mistress,” Olivia stuck her tongue out at the end of each answer

   “What?”

   “To lick you, mistress,” and stole herself mentally for what she was about to do.

   “Where?”

   “Your…your…” pausing, unsure of what word to use, “pussy?”

   “Cunt, you stupid slut,” Greta snapped as she inched forward on the chair, spreading her legs and slowly moving her pussy lips closer and closer to Olivia, “And why are you going to lick my cunt?”

   “Because,” Olivia was again unsure what to say but tried ...“my mistress has told me to.”

   “Very good,” Greta said, moving closer, “And because you are a pretty little cunt licker, I am going to be very kind. Because you are a weak English bitch who cannot handle being a little chilly, I am going to treat you. Once you start lapping my cunt with that lovely new tongue, I will press this button.” She held up the small black box, “I will not press it again until you make me cum, so just as before, it would be in your best interests to do a good job. Now lick me, whore!”

   Sliding forward a final few inches, Greta slammed her pussy into Olivia’s face. As her nose plunged into Greta’s folds, the smell of sex hit and she heard a click. Putting her tongue right inside, she began licking from the bottom of Greta’s vagina up to her hooded clitoris. She had scarcely begun  when Greta grabbed her head and pulled her violently into her crotch. Coughing for air, she couldn’t breathe until she got her nose out of Greta’s lips but still she kept licking, only occasional heavy breathing from Greta showing any effect. Soon, however, Olivia felt something else, a very gentle warming deep inside her pussy. Her eyes widened as it steadily intensified.

   “Good, slut,” Greta groaned, “It will get very hot very soon. Lick harder, cunt!”

   Quickly lapping all of Greta’s pussy Olivia sped up, flicking the tip of her tongue against the hooded clit, running the flat over the lips and occasionally pushing as far into the hole as she could. She tried to emulate the techniques she’d enjoyed when, in a previous life, she was eaten out by a doting lover. By now the dildo was about hand washing temperature and she shuffled slightly, trying to move it around and reduce the heat. From behind and with only the device’s small flat base jutting out, Olivia’s peachy arse seemed to wriggle in arousal. Greta’s hand wrapped in Olivia’s hair and as she pushed her head deep into her groin, she pulled the golden locks to elicit a yelp from the mouth buried deep in her pussy. As Greta moaned in pleasure at her attentions, the young woman moaned for an entirely different reason. The heat was now painful, her wriggling making no difference. Suddenly Greta slid forward on the chair, knocking Olivia back slightly, and pulled her legs up.

  “Tongue my ass, cunt!” she shouted, her hands never leaving Olivia’s head.

  Forced down an inch to tongue Greta’s arsehole, Olivia’s button nose was slicked in pussy juice. But she never stopped licking since which hole she pleasured didn’t matter, only that she pleased Greta as quickly as possible. Extending her tongue, she slipped it into Greta’s sphincter and was forced to anally tongue her molester by the bony hands pushing her head back and forth. As the pain in her abdomen grew, her tears mixed with Greta’s cunt juices on her extended tongue. Forced into Greta’s groin, she struggled to breathe, snatching only small breaths when momentarily pulled away. The excruciating pain made her now dread what was happening to her sensitive pussy and she half expected to hear flesh sizzling over the squelching sounds of Greta’s dripping cunt and arse.

   “Fuck yes,” Greta yelled, “now make me cum, you filthy bitch!”

   As she pulled Olivia’s head back to again lap her sex, the feeling of the bitch’s modified tongue on her most sensitive parts was heavenly. Looking at the mess of blonde hair she was forcing into her cunt, she saw the girl hopping from knee to knee and wriggling her arse to relieve the pain in her hole. Greta moaned with delight, partly because the girl’s tongue had just flicked her engorged clit but also because forcing Olivia to lick her while her insides burned made her feel so powerful. Pulling her head away, she listened to the bitch now keening a high pitched whine of terrible pain. On the final stretch, Greta ground her cunt into the bitch’s face. With the girl’s tongue sticking out, Greta now did most of the work, gyrating her pelvis and rubbing Olivia’s head up and down as pleasure welled up. Then her climax began and Greta came in a crescendo of screams.

   “AAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” a sheer euphoria of screaming, “Lick me, lick my fucking cunt, you stuck up English bitch. OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHEEEE!!!”

   Coming hard, a gush of pussy juice covered Olivia’s already slick face. The intensity of her orgasm surprised even Greta as she cooed in the last waves of its pleasure. It was more than a day since she’d last cum, grinding her snatch into the big-titted cunt’s face, and combined with the skill of her slave’s new tongue, Greta had squirted more than she had for a very long time. Clearly learning her place, Olivia still lapped Greta’s drenched sex frantically, wailing as she did so. In no rush to stop the pretty little girl’s pain, Greta stroked her hair softly while she continued to lick, squeal and wiggle her cute little arse. But, regretfully, the toy had to be turned off or that pretty pussy would be damaged permanently. So, grabbing the bitch’s hair, she threw her to the floor. Blind to it coming, Olivia had no time to brace herself, her head hitting the carpet with some force, her hips still writhing as the pain intensified. Standing and walking over the damp patch on the floor where her juices had fallen, Greta stood over the wriggling girl and knelt, her pussy slapping wetly on Olivia’s belly button, to lean over her face. Her eyes were closed and so, to make her attend, Greta twisted a nipple hard. Her beautiful blue eyes opened to see a smiling Greta holding the little black box in her hand.

   “My, my,” Greta pantomimed surprise, “that was quite a performance. An expert cunt licker already! Now you have made me cum, would you like me turn off that hot toy inside you?”

   Barely hearing what Greta said over the pain, Olivia did hear the last bit and immediately answered, desperate to get the evil object out of her.

   “Yes, mistress,” she wailed, “It hurts so much!”

   “Well, as you did such a good job,” Greta said, her dripping cunt juices pooling on Olivia’s belly, “I suppose I could. As soon as you thank me.”

   “Thank you, mistress, thank you so much.”

   “What for?”

   “For…for,” the writhing girl hesitated, “for letting me lick your cunt.”

   “You are welcome, whore,” Greta thoroughly enjoyed this psychological torture, “would you like to do it again sometime?”

   “Yes, mistress, please, anytime. Please, mistress, let me lick your cunt just…just please…”

   “Very good, sweetie, I will enjoy you lapping my cunt. So since you have been so good ...”

   Twisting the girl’s soft breast again to make her look up, she then very theatrically pressed the red button. Though off, the dildo was still very hot and Olivia continued to thrash about. After a minute or so she began to calm, Greta enjoying her last few writhing movements and groans. Putting down the box to roughly squeeze Olivia’s tits, her talon fingers again dug into flesh.

   “What do you s…?” she asked.

   “Thank you, mistress,” Olivia instantly interrupted despite heavily breathing, “thank you so much.”

   “You grateful little slut,” Delightedly leaning in to force her tongue down Olivia’s throat, Greta  kissed her forcefully, pushing her head deep into the luxurious carpet and listening to her yelp as her nails scratched that soft tit flesh and her pussy rubbed Olivia’s sopping stomach. After some minutes of such torment, Greta sat back on the girl’s stomach, her hands reluctantly leaving those perky tits.

  “Are you warm now, sweetie,” Greta was tormenting, knowing her cunt would still be hot.

   “Yes, mistress, thank you, mistress.”

   “Would you like me to pull the toy from your cunt?”

   “Yes please, mistress.”

   “Very well,” Greta stood, leaving a large glistening patch of vaginal juices on the girl’s toned belly, “spread your legs nice and wide.”

   Olivia obeyed although her legs were already spread by the huge toy. Looking at the girl’s pretty pleading face, she put the flat of a stiletto on her pelvis, just above the bulge of the dildo, and bent down to slowly tug at the exposed base. Olivia’s tight lips seemed almost reluctant to let it go, so, pushing her foot down painfully, Greta then pulled, all her muscles straining, as hard as she could.

   Her screams wavering breathlessly as the base came slowly from her cunt, Olivia’s labia stretched so thin that even Greta thought they would tear. After thirty seconds of screaming, the widest part came out, the rest following immediately – and her scream intensified, a sound so shrill that even Greta who normally rejoiced in her victims’ most agonising screams, found it a little off-putting. Looking at what she had pulled out, she saw why and smiled. The metallic surface had small but unmistakeable scraps of her cunt. Carefully not touching the still warm metal, she inspected the small specks of pink flesh dotting the shining toy. No wonder the feisty little bitch was screaming. Greta could only imagine her excruciating pain. If her cunt wasn’t sensitive before, it would now be sheer agony if she was fucked in the next few days. Which of course she would be. But Greta wouldn’t permanently damage a new slave. It would heal in time but until then she would be in serious pain and telling her how temporary it was would miss a perfect opportunity to break her spirit. Greta walked over to Olivia, her screams having died to a sobbing whimper.

   “Look, baby,” Greta held it for Olivia to see, “look at the bits of your cunt stuck all over your toy.”

   Seeing what Greta held, Olivia gasped and very nearly fainted. The thing was apparently covered in tiny scraps of meat. Since they had not been there when forced inside her, there was only one place they could have come from. She instinctively tried to close her legs but this caused more pain and so moved her hands to cover her sex. But the damage had been done and she had no idea how severe or permanent it was. Looking at the silver thing Greta twirled in front of her, she felt as if her whole vagina had been torn out. As she whimpered quietly on the floor, Greta continued to torment her.

   “Well, well,” Greta was enjoying herself, “next time we play this game you need to please me a little quicker or it will tear all your snatch out. Now what do you say now that I have pulled it out?”

   “T…Thank…you mistress,” Olivia sobbed.

   Greta chuckled and placed the device back in its cabinet. Then she dressed herself as meticulously as she had undressed, pulled the chair back to the desk and sat down, totally ignoring the mewling girl in the centre of the room. After some minutes there was a knock at the door.

   “Come in,” Greta said, rather less excited than previously, merely pointing Mehmet to Olivia lying on the carpet. Flashing her a brief look of unseen contempt, he nonetheless carefully picked Olivia up, holding her in outstretched arms. As he was about to leave, Greta stopped him.

   “Mehmet,” Greta was now looking at her computer, “bring her here, please.” Coming to the desk, the Turk lowered her to eye level with the sitting Greta.

   “Look at me, bitch,” Greta said, glancing up from her screen as Olivia slowly turned her head to meet her gaze, “you have pleased me. And you will please me again. One way you will please me is to please those I lend you to. You will do everything you are told, do you understand?”

   “Yes,” Olivia limply nodded, “mistress.”

   Dismissing them with a nod, Greta returned to her screen. Using his feet to widen the open door, Mehmet strode off. He didn’t know what had happened in that room but he did know a small trickle of blood was leaking from Olivia’s pussy. Speeding up, he couldn’t hide his fury as he thought about what could have happened, his mind swirling in rage and loyalty and his enjoyment of this job. So confusing.  But his troubles did not compare to those of the girl he was now almost cradling.

   After Mehmet left, Greta dialled a number and waited for answer.

   “Hello there. She will be down in an hour. Oh, and she has a little surprise for you…”

                                                       -----------------------------------------------  

   Following the woman down a labyrinth of corridors was not easy. With two dildos in her holes, walking was difficult but Melissa still gamely struggled to keep up. Her blonde hair was stuck to her sweaty forehead since she had gone over 24 hours without her normal shower. But this was about as far from normal as it could get, her old life so distant it seemed only a dream.

   “Quickly,” came the command from far in front and Melissa half-ran just to catch up, the thought of disobeying not even occurring to her. Her heavy tracksuit weighed her down and unable to walk properly, she had to swing her legs from side to side in a strangely comical waddle. Then, much to her relief, the woman stopped at a door seemingly no different to those they’d passed. The occasional sound of screaming coming through those had chilled Melissa to the core. When the panting blonde caught up, the woman showed no tiredness at all. Pressing a seemingly innocuous stone, there was a click, a whir and the heavy wooden door opened to reveal a plain stone room.

   “In.”

   Melissa walked to the middle and waited for further orders. There was little to see: a hose in the corner; a toilet with a plughole next to it; no furniture; a single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. All a far cry from the luxurious surroundings of the grand hall but she wasn’t thinking of that. As the door slammed shut behind her, she turned to see the woman walking toward her.

   “Remove your clothes,” the woman said coldly, “or I will do it for you. You do not want that.”  

   Melissa did not want to since the clothes gave at least an illusion of protection. But helpless, she reluctantly hooked her fingers beneath the sweater’s heavy rim and pulled it up to reveal her gloriously toned midriff and then her ample bosom, hidden by a small black crop top. On pulling it over her head, a small gesture from the woman signalled her to drop it on the floor. After slipping off the flimsy pumps, she took off the tracksuit bottoms, to stand in small black hot pants and top.

   “Everything,” her stare didn’t leave Melissa at all.

   Melissa sighed, reaching for the bottom of her top and pulling it up. With nothing holding her breasts, they spilled down to bounce on her chest. But the woman was not interested in her  beautiful body but her orders. When Melissa dropped her bottoms, she saw her tensing to keep the two dildos in, obviously afraid of the consequences if they fell. Walking over to the hose ...

   “You can relax,” she said, unwinding the hose, “those are not needed anymore.”

   On this, Melissa immediately relaxed her muscles. As both artificial cocks fell, she felt both free and strangely empty, relishing the welcome feeling for as long as possible. Which was little indeed.

   “Go there,” the woman snapped, pointing to the toilet, “Relieve yourself.”

  After readjusting to moving without things deep inside her, Melissa sat down. Her three weeks captivity had habituated her to very little privacy and she just ignored the woman as she relieved herself, sitting for as long as she could since the hose made no secret of the woman’s  intentions. After waiting some minutes to ensure Melissa had finished, she then spoke.

   “Up. Bend over.”

   Knowing what was coming, Melissa bent over. A hand held a cheek apart, the hose pointed over her crack and puckered arsehole and she shrieked as a blast of cold water squirted up her chute, the dirty water running into the plug-hole. After satisfying herself she was clean, the woman then squirted icy water over her crack, Melissa’s shocked shrieks expressing discomfort rather than pain. After cleaning her holes, the woman stood, hose still pointing at the girl.

   “Stand,” said with her usual sternness, “against the wall.”

   As Melissa backed against the wall, she confusedly felt like a condemned prisoner facing a firing squad. Focussed on the pointing hose, the confusion dissipated and she tensed for another ice cold blast. Which did not stop her squealing when it slammed into her belly. After doing her front from face to toes until she was clean, a quick gesture when it finished signalled her to turn and be blasted once more. Finished, she was left shivering and dripping, her blonde mane hanging lankly and sticking to her soft skin. But she had no time to warm up. Replacing the hose, the woman said

   “Follow me,” and turned to a stone wall. Melissa looked on bemused as she pushed a seemingly random stone, a section of wall suddenly sliding back and to the side. She couldn’t see into the hole but since the woman went through, she had to follow. Behind her, the wall clicked shut, plunging her into darkness. When a light suddenly flicked on, she gasped, terrified by the dozens of torture instruments racked on the walls. The woman, however, stopped at an innocuous looking chain  hanging from the ceiling and gathered up two manacles attached to the end.

   “Over here,” the woman had not reacted to Melissa’s intake of horror, “quickly.”

   Walking forward gingerly, head hanging low, Melissa shuffled over, desperate to avoid the inevitable. To be in a place like this numbed her mind. Looking at the devices lining the walls, she wondered not only how much they would hurt but also whether she would get out alive.

   “Put your arms out,” oblivious to Melissa’s continuing terror.

   Taking both wrists in one well manicured hand, the woman pulled the chain down with the other until it was level with Melissa’s outstretched arms. Clipping the manacles on her wrists, she ensured they were tight then let go. Yelping as her arms shot over her head, Melissa was suddenly and violently pulled up with her toes just off the ground, all her weight on her shoulders and manacles digging painfully into her wrists. The woman was totally unmoved by her pained moans.

   “Someone will see you soon,” walking away, she then half turned, “do as you are told. It is easier.”

   Walking back to the wall they had come through, she again put out her hand. As before a section opened and she seemed to hang a moment in mid air before disappearing. Then, on a click, the wall once again slid shut and the lights above Melissa flicked off. Plunged into darkness, she felt she had sensed something in the woman’s voice. Sympathy? No, not quite, but something suggested that perhaps not everyone in this place was as evil as she had first thought. But that was pushed aside as she hung in the dark, wrists hurting and arms aching from her position. Only the clink of chains and foreboding memories of the surrounding torture room kept her company.

  

                                                                       ----------------------------------

   After several hours, Lucy had almost blanked out the beep, just appreciating the silence and the comfort of her new home, the mindlessness allowing her to forget the horrors of the last few days.  Initially thinking about her current predicament, she later moved on to things she had thought about before this nightmare then to nothing at all. But this perverse idyll was about to end. On another beep, she glanced cursorily at the numbers, expecting only a brief look before again mindlessly whiling away the time. She gasped when she saw “64”. The numbers hadn’t been in any order, flitting wildly from single digits up into the 90s and so she had no warning hers was next. As a few women glanced round, curious that no-one came forward, Lucy stood.

   Though she had seen many women leave, she panicked and for a second confusedly looked round  for any clue as to where to go. Regaining her composure, she started for the door, striding to project confidence. At her approach, the door opened and she walked through. As it clunked shut and her eyes adjusted to the darker corridor, she heard a familiar and terrifying voice.

   “Walk straight forward,” a calm German accent said over a speakers, “then take the second right.”

   Lucy didn’t hesitate for she knew Greta was capable of anything and so walked quickly, her eyes fixed on the right hand side, walking past one corridor before turning at the next, her number slip still clasped in her hand. She paused and was soon told what to do next.

   “Go forward then take the stairs on the left then through the door and along the corridor.”

   Walking forward, Lucy climbed the staircase, all the while wondering how the two women who had previously led her through these corridors knew their way around such a labyrinth. And going up stairs in high heels was not easy. Forced to notice the stairs, she saw the stone steps  becoming less uneven, more finished. On reaching the top, she pushed against a door – and entered something bizarrely normal, a brightly lit corridor more appropriate to a high rise office building with paintings on its whitewashed walls and floored with an expensive wooden laminate. Slightly stunned, Lucy walked down the corridor to an open door on her right. Looking in, she saw a heart-sinking sight.

   “Hello,” Greta smiled, “I trust you have been comfortable. Come in.” and turned back to her computer.

   Lucy slowed, desperate not to go in and face her tormentor but equally desperate not to piss off the crazy blonde woman. Caught between, she hesitated for a moment, wondering whether she had to knock before entering.

   “I said come in!” Greta was still working at her computer but sounded more than a little impatient.

  Walking in, Lucy’s mouth dropped as she saw how luxurious the room was. She didn’t know that just fifty minutes ago her best friend had been here, marvelling at the same things and the same woman. Had she known what had happened to Olivia, she might have tried to escape but there was nothing to see except luxurious appointments and the suited woman at the desk.

   “Take a seat,” not looking up from her laptop. Sitting in the chair in front of the desk, Lucy looked  at the bony features of the woman who had captured them in that bar a few days ago, remembering  her in her leather corset about to begin hour after hour of torture and rape. Every pain and humiliation this woman had made her suffer flooded back and she winced. But looking now, she barely recognised that person as the one working on a computer like a normal business woman. Indeed were it not for Lucy’s own attire, this almost seemed a normal business meeting.

   “So,” Greta turned to look straight into Lucy’s eyes, “how do you find your new surroundings?”

   Lucy didn’t quite know how to respond. Last time she had been expected to say ‘mistress’ and ‘master’; was that still expected? And if she said “yes”, did that consent to everything that had happened? She felt that agreeing she had been comfortable since leaving that dungeon would validate everything done to her. Yet though not wanting to give this evil woman any satisfaction, she couldn’t return there. She flash remembered having to watch Holly being whipped and double penetrated and then the sight of the poor woman being thrashed with those huge bamboo sticks followed. Lucy was never going to be in that situation. Even if she was the one torturing those poor women, even her friends, she would prefer that to being on the receiving end.

   “They’re very nice,” she said, then through gritted teeth, “mistress. Thank you.”

   “You are welcome but you need not call me mistress anymore. You are much better than the cunts you came with. They are worthless, you are not. Do you know why you were chosen?”

   “No,” Lucy said, flinching slightly at having her friends referred to as ‘cunts’.

   “Because I saw you could be a very good, high class whore. And that you have a natural aptitude for inflicting pain. Do you remember fucking that big-titted bitch while beating her fat udders?”

   “Yes,” Lucy hung her head in shame as she remembered what she had been forced to do to Holly.

   “Do not be ashamed,” Greta chuckled, “the snivelling cunt deserved it as you’ll see in time. And her screaming as you paddled her was delightful. You obviously enjoyed it as well for you came very hard all over her face after. You would probably enjoy what is being done to her now even more.”

   As Greta described her past actions, Lucy held back a tear, knowing she was right. While pounding  Holly’s pussy, swinging the paddle hard into her friend’s soft breasts, Lucy had indeed been highly aroused by her high-pitched screams, grinding her pussy into Holly’s pretty face when she came. Lucy knew their relationship, if they ever escaped, would never be the same and, thinking about the terrible torment her friend could be suffering now, she felt immense sadness flood over her.

   “It is alright,” Greta continued, “you will now get the chance to inflict pain once again. I know you do not think you want to but soon you will enjoy it. I will give you some tips.”

   Lucy could only stare, her mind numb with the perversity of it. A woman who had kidnapped the three friends and horrifically tortured them in that dungeon, who had forced Lucy to cause a friend terrible pain, now spoke to her as if she was not only a human being but an accomplice. But so much had happened in the last few days that even this strange twist barely surprised her.

   “The first thing you must always remember is that you do not have a choice. You may have been saved from the fate of your friends but you still belong to me. You are mine to command, to do with as I see fit. And if you disobey, you will go straight back to that dungeon. Do you understand?”

   “Yes,” Lucy replied quickly.

   “Good,” Greta almost smiled, “if you remember that, you will be fine. Now, you may be wondering how I expect you to torture women you have never met, who have never hurt you.”

   Lucy slowly nodded, an observing part of her still not believing this conversation was happening.

   “Very simple. Find a reason to hate them. No matter who they are, convince yourself they deserve what you do to them. Whatever you think of, anything that works for you, use it. Understand?”

   “Yes,” she replied but she didn’t really. How could she justify hurting an innocent woman, convince herself they deserved it? Yet she had no choice. She was out of the dungeon but Greta was making it clear she still did not control her actions. Depressing and daunting as it was, Lucy had to agree.

   “Good. For instance, consider your one experience of your new role so far. When you were beating those big fat tits, your friend screaming while you fucked her, what were you thinking?”

   Lucy could think of no answer and just stared open mouthed at Greta. How could she answer? She didn’t know what she had been thinking. She’d been horny, the effects of that wicked chair having taken their toll. Still, she racked her brain for an answer. But she needn’t have bothered.

   “You do not know what you were thinking, do you?”

   “No,” she said sheepishly, expecting this revelation to be met with punishment.

   “That is your inexperience,” Greta said, her eyes still fixed on Lucy, “and that is why you still feel ashamed of what you did. If you had realised how much the cow deserved it, you would have made your peace with it. So that is what you must do in future. Now, are you ready to put in more work?”

   “Yes,” Lucy said, her eyes going slightly wide at the prospect of seeing more terrible things.

   “Good,” Greta said, standing up from her desk, “then follow me. We have a new American bitch.  Our job is to train her to be an obedient slave. You will do exactly as you are told when you are told.”

   Walking round the desk, Greta gestured Lucy to stand and, not waiting, with her usual purposeful stride went out the door. As the teen rose, turned and followed, the door slammed shut behind her. Walking behind the blonde torturer, the prospect of future horrifying decisions made Lucy shiver.

                                                           ----------------------------------------------

   Stepping back, Hasan admired his handiwork. The figure before him was unrecognisable as the thing he had dragged in an hour ago. He thought he’d done a great job and most would have agreed. Looking at her now, no-one would ever know what Holly had been through over the last few days. The teen looked every inch the gorgeous beauty schoolboys had been lusting over for years and, dressed as she was, they would have recognised her instantly. No longer in a suffocating latex prison but dressed in almost normal clothes – well, almost. The buxom babe was now dressed as an archetypal sexy schoolgirl even if, unlike most, she was not trying to be. On her small feet were soft canvas pumps with long white socks that rose to just below her knees. Halfway up her slender toned thigh was the bottom of a tartan skirt, shorter than Holly would have worn in her own school. Her torso though was far more modest; a grey sweater covering a crisp white shirt. Even through two layers, her assets were tantalising, the tight fitting jumper hugging her curves magnificently. Her collar was secured by a small tartan neckerchief that matched her skirt and completed the ensemble perfectly. Holly’s pretty features only made her more alluring, her big brown eyes inadvertently fluttering seductively as she blankly stared straight ahead. Her hair was pulled back, allowing her beautiful face to be seen and the tight ponytail was replaced by two pigtails sprouting from the sides. Looking at the adorable teen, Hasan smiled at his creation.

   Of course it wasn’t just the finished product he enjoyed. Preparing the girl had been highly pleasurable and he had taken any opportunity to make it uncomfortable. He had begun by brandishing a large knife to terrify her, slapping her tits with the flat while smiling menacingly. Holly had been relieved when all he did was cut the latex off, ripping and tearing the suit until she was completely naked on the floor. He then had his fun; sucking milk, spanking her and eventually fucking those enormous tits until he’d covered her chest with cum. Silent the entire time, he then washed her, took out her piercings and applied minimal make up before dressing her. Now he was to hand this exquisite toy to someone else to play with.

    “Follow me,” Hasan said sternly. On these, his first words, he turned and walked out the door, not waiting for her to follow. Finally Holly was alone, standing in the middle of the room with her hands by her sides. But she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to stay, using her legs properly for the first time in days, she meekly followed Hasan. On turning the corner, she saw Hasan way in front and, desperate to avoid punishment, jogged slightly to keep up with him. He strode at a blistering pace, twisting and turning in the maze of corridors, through heavy doors and up and down staircases. Trying to keep up, Holly alternated between a fast walk and a semi-jog, her arm across her chest with the latter to prevent her breasts bouncing up and down too much. She felt ridiculous in her schoolgirl outfit and pigtails but she tried not to think about it, concentrating instead just on keeping up with Hasan. After a few minutes she caught up with him as he stood next to a large dark wooden door, waiting for her to arrive and when she did, he checking to make sure everything was in order.

   “Go,” Hasan smiled, “enjoy, cunt.”

   Holly paused and stared at the door, terrified by what was inside. But she could not refuse and it would be good to get away from this sadistic bastard. She knew his last words would be a lie; she would never enjoy herself in this dreadful place. Reluctantly opening the heavy wooden door, she  peered into the dark room beyond amd, with Hasan still leering at her, walked into the darkness.

   “Come in,” the voice was exotic sounding. Leaving the door’s relative safety, Holly felt her way  further into the room, still completely blind, jumping as the door slammed shut behind her.  She continued feeling her way but the more she went, the more tentative she became and the more she  questioned herself. So she began to slow, looking around for any clue as to what to do.

   “Stop.” When Holly stopped, a light turned on, blinding her. When she shielded her eyes, someone in the room found that amusing. After adjusting, she looked around. The room was a stone basement with her standing in a circle of blinding light, its sides shrouded in darkness. Two figures waited. One was an oriental woman who, though Holly didn’t know it, had led Lucy to her new place. The woman was expressionless as if she wasn’t surprised to see a beautiful schoolgirl standing in a room. The other could scarcely have been more different. Sitting in a large luxurious armchair was an enormous man with a ridiculous wide rimmed cowboy hat who looked at the cowering Holly with a large smile on his face. Stretching out his stiff arms, Jeremiah put his chubby hands together.

   “Oh my,” his slow applause reverberated, “what have we here?”

   With his applause still echoing, Jeremiah stopped clapping to begin the arduous task of getting up, levering his panting mass of blubber very slowly out of the armchair and onto his snakeskin booted feet. Holly shuffled back as the lumbering American came toward her, beaming from ear to ear.

   “Don’t move away, baby,” the man had a broad Texan drawl, “I want to see what I’m dealing with.”

   Holly looked down as his clicking boots drew nearer until she saw his pointed toes. Grabbing her chin, a chubby hand forced her to look at him. In his heeled boots he was taller than Holly and so he looked down into her big brown eyes, smiling broadly at the girl’s pretty face. Greta had promised something special and she had not disappointed – the girl was glorious. Her pigtails made her look so cute and innocent that he couldn’t wait for her beautiful face to be screaming in pain. As for the rest of her ... his eyes went her bulging chest. Excited, he very gently pressed his palm to her sweater, his thoughts centred on what lay beneath. Pushing against the fabric, he sighed. No doubt a small part of her had hoped he wouldn’t use her as she had been used before. But of course he would. Pushing hard against her breast, her soft flesh offering no resistance, he spread his chubby fingers wide and squeezed down, squishing the pliant boob while looking into her eyes and chuckling.

   “My, oh my,” he was genuinely amazed, “you are very special indeed. Greta promised something extraordinary but in my wildest dreams I never thought she’d serve me something so … delicious.”

   Holly just stared at him while he spoke of her like food he’d been served in a restaurant. Having been beaten, pierced, bound, raped in all holes and treated like dirt for the past few days, having a strange man fondle her breast through several layers of clothing was not much of a torture. But his words were far more cutting than his tit squeezing. To be promised to this man, given to him like an old book, was very distressing for a girl with no experience of people’s inhumanity. But she knew  light fondling would not be enough for this man and so tried to save her true distress for later.

   “You’re a very, very pretty little school girl, especially with those cute little pigtails. Lovely big eyes as well. But fuck me, those tits! Good god, they’re huge! Are they all natural, sweetie?”

   “Yes, master,” Holly replied instantly.

   “Holy fuck, we’ll have to whip them out and have a good play with those puppies soon. But you don’t have to call me master, baby. Your mistress has generously allowed me to use you. Of course as your superior you need to show respect so just call me ‘Sir’. Do you understand?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly nodded.

   “Good girl, but something else. I know your mistress has stopped you being a real person, just a worthless cunt. You are whatever your mistress wants. But I want you to be a little school girl for me so I’m going to treat you like that. But when I’m done with you, you’ll go back to being the worthless, unhuman cunt your mistress wants. Do you understand that?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly could barely take in what he said to her.

   “Excellent. Now what’s going to happen is that I’m going to torture you and make you scream at the top of your voice. I hope you’ll be in so much pain, you’ll wish the floor would open and swallow you up. But it won’t. I’m going to hurt your whole body but most of all, I’m going to hurt those big fat tits until you wish I’d just cut them off and be done with it. While you’re squealing and wailing like a pig, I’ll be having the time of my life. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you and I’m going to enjoy every last second. And you will obey whatever I and my assistant ask you to do. No matter how much it hurts, you will obey without hesitation. Do you understand?”

   Holly was shocked dumb at how blasé this man was about what he intended to do to her. And was as confused as she was terrified. She could understand this man wanting sex with her; a fat old man like him could never dream of getting a girl like her in the real world. And she could just about understand him wanting to tie her up and have rough sex, for she knew now that rape was about power as much as lust. But she couldn’t understand why anyone would want to torture her. She had done nothing wrong to him, had no information to give and had to allow him to ... to fuck her. That she was to suffer severe pain for this odious old man’s amusement was soul destroying but she couldn’t stop it. So with a heavy heart and just before Jeremiah got angry, she responded.

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Terrific,” Jeremiah smiled, pleased with how obedient the girl was, “you’ve clearly been trained very well. I hope when Greta’s finished training my slave, she’s just as obedient. I’m sure when I’m done, you’ll make your mistress very happy. Oh, and there are cameras everywhere so if you misbehave your mistress will find out so obey. Now let’s begin! Take off that sweater.”

   After giving the order, Jeremiah went back to his chair. Holly readied herself and as he sat down hooked her hands under the jumper. After being naked for so long, being clothed had been a relief even if she was dressed up like a middle aged man’s wet dream in very tight clothing. She didn’t want to be naked before this man or indeed anyone especially since once she was, the real torture would begin. But she had no choice. So she lifted her jumper as the two looked on.

   “Quickly, girl, get your ass over here. I want to see you stripping nice and close, you little slut.”

   Holly walked forward, pulling the bottom of the jumper up over her breasts with her arms crossed, the incredibly tight fitting white linen shirt stretching as her arms went over her head and  obscured her face. She kept looking forward while pulling the sweater up, her face slowly revealed to Jeremiah, her pigtails finally emerging from the neck. Holding the grey jumper, she stared at the smiling man in front of her. With outstretched hands, he beckoned her to him and she shuffled forward till her legs touched his. Taking the jumper, he smelled it, taking a long deep breath before handing it to the woman. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, collapsing her onto his lap and holding her with her arse on his knee while he looked at her chest.

   “Come and sit on daddy’s lap,” Jeremiah said, “Look at those! That shirt barely holds them. I can’t wait to get my hands on them. Now tell me sweetie, what was your name before you came here?”

   “Holly, Sir,” It was amazing to hear her own name even if she said it, for the first time in days.

   “Holly. That’s a very pretty name. And how old are you, Holly?”

   “18, Sir.”

   “Wow, 18. Well, Holly,” he said, “I know you’ve got magnificent titties. But I don’t want to neglect the rest of that tight young 18 year old body. I mean, look at these legs.”

   Saying that, he ran his hand up Holly’s leg and up under her skirt to her white panties. When he hooked his finger under the waistband, Holly took an intake of breath as she anticipated his chubby fingers rubbing her pussy. After being treated like a piece of dirt for the last few days, having this man talk to her like a child was both very strange and very perverted indeed. As he moved his hand up and down her leg, she couldn’t decide what she preferred; to be talked down to like shit or patronised as she was now? He had said what he was going to do to her – that he would torture her terribly – yet he talked to her as if she were his niece at a wedding. Either way it was awful and the worst part was that she could do nothing about it. She was helpless and everybody knew it.

   “And this,” Jeremiah almost whispered while rubbing the outside of her knickers, “this pretty little pussy. Your mistress tells me you never had a cock inside you before coming here, is that true, Holly? And before you answer, know that if I think you’re lying, you’ll regret it.”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly seemed ashamed but was really remembering what she had lost in so short a time.

   “Wowee. And you’ve been fucked here, haven’t you?” He rubbed her pussy on the outside of her panties.

   “Yes, Sir,”

   “And have you cum?” Jeremiah asked, his rubbing quickening.

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Oh, Holly, you little slut, even after being abducted, raped and beaten you still came? Well!?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly was increasingly embarrassed by the questions he asked as she started to feel the effects of his gentle genital stimulation.

   “I never knew the English were such whores,” Jeremiah said, abruptly pulling his hand away from her crotch, “you don’t deserve me rubbing your cunt then, do you, Holly?”

   Holly resisted the not very strong urge to move to his hand. Despite what Jeremiah may have believed, a quick rub of her pussy would not get her dripping wet. Not that he gave any thought to whether Holly was horny or not. All he cared about was himself and enjoying the treasures this girl had to offer him. Greta had always treated him magnificently but she had really outdone herself this time. Though he knew Holly’s real age, she still seemed young, looking at her; seeing her on the street, he would have thought her just 16. As he took his hand from her crotch, he looked from her angelic face to her bulging chest and began to salivate as he stared at her tits. Their outline was clearly visible through a tight fitting shirt clearly not made for such an ample chest, the buttons stretched almost to breaking point and the outline of her bra and pale skin visible through the thin linen. Keeping one hand round her waist, he took one of her soft round globes. Purring with delight, he roughly dug his nails into the soft flesh. Though her breasts gave to his touch, there was some resistance and he imagined how such firm young tits would look naked.

   “I think it’s time to get that shirt off,” Jeremiah whipped his hand away from her breast and began to undo the tartan cravat, “untuck it from your skirt for me, sweetie.”

   Holly obliged, reaching around to untuck the fabric. It made little difference; the shirt was so short it barely reached her waistband. Then she watched Jeremiah try to undo her top button with just one finger. His fat fingers made it difficult and she watched with trepidation as he became increasingly frustrated. After trying once more, he grunted in frustration and clicked his fingers.

   “You do it,” he barked at the woman. “slowly!”

   As the woman reached over, Holly turned to focus on the woman for the first time. Her vision was obscured as the elegant figure reached over her shoulder and daintily undid the top button of her shirt but she smelled a beautiful scent, intoxicating her and momentarily making her forget where she was. A low loud growl brought her back to earth and she looked back to see the third button on her shirt undone and the tops of her breasts, pushed up by her bra, just revealed. Jeremiah’s eyes were fixed on the well manicured hands undoing the third and then the fourth, each time making him groan in pleasure and anticipation. When she undid the fifth button, Jeremiah stopped her and she immediately resumed her previous position. With the buttons undone to just below her chest, Holly saw as he did her gargantuan cleavage. The bra was only a plain white cushioned fabric, not a push up or a sexy lingerie, just a regulation bra any busty woman might wear. But it still didn’t give her a normal cleavage because it was at least a cup size too small. It would have been small on her before but since her breasts had grown slightly when forced to lactate, it was now ludicrously tight. Hasan had forced her flesh into the cups, not caring how rough he was. But though the bra gave her a tight and hugely inviting cleavage, her breasts still spilled over the lip. Holly would never have shown herself like this and as the man’s leer burned into her chest, she felt both shame and disgust.

   “Jesus Christ,” Jeremiah said, his jaw agape, “just look at those things! Can’t even get a bra to hold them! I bet you always stride round with them on show don’t you, you teasing little whore?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly told the truth as she was wary of his earlier threat.

   “Lying bitch!” Jeremiah snapped, glaring in rage at Holly’s face, “What did I say about lying to me?”

   “I promise, Sir,” Holly said panicked, “I’m not lying! I wouldn’t! I never did…display myself.”

   Jeremiah’s gaze was fixed on her eyes. She was telling he truth but he revelled in her fear and anguish at his accusations. Oh, he had struck gold with this bitch. A beautiful girl with a wonderful body who was embarrassed at her own attractiveness and covered up two of the finest assets he had seen on any woman either in the flesh or on screen. It didn’t get much better for him than that and her desperation to avoid punishment made him all the more eager to mete it out.

   “This from the bitch who comes as she’s being raped?” his rage filled eyes glared at her, “You were only a virgin because you liked teasing men and now I’m going to put you in your place. And on top of that, you lie to me…”

   “Sir, it’s the truth I swea…”

   “Silence!” Jeremiah barked, “You will speak when spoken to! I don’t want to hear your pathetic whining lies. Now I said you’d pay for that and you will.”

   Holly swallowed hard on the urge to answer back. This man obviously had no desire for truth; all he wanted was to make her suffer and humiliate her. She suspected, correctly, that if she had said “yes”, his ire would have been the same. She couldn’t win with these people and would have to take whatever punishment they decided until she was rescued, a prospect that now seemed so far away. This man had come a long way to be here and knew her torturess well. Holly began to realise that this wasn’t the work of a few sick individuals but a far more complex and altogether more terrifying network. As she came to this slow realisation, Jeremiah looked back at her straining breasts.

   “Don’t make me angry like that again, sweetie,” his voice resumed its previous calm tone, “or this’ll just be harder for you. You can’t tease me with your tits because I can do whatever I want to you. Now, sit up straight, I’ve got to taste these babies.”

   After handing the woman his hat, Jeremiah showed surprising strength for such a fat man to lift  Holly up under her arms. He was too short to lift her all the way but what he wanted was clear and so she helped him, placing her knees either side of his legs as he lowered her to straddle him, her crotch pressed against his burgeoning erection. Kneeling, she looked down as he grabbed the bottom of her breasts through her bra to push them even tighter together. Then, with outstretched tongue, he leant forward and put his face to her chest, moaning in pleasure as he tongued the top of her breasts, tasting a creamy femininity still preserved despite all her degradation. Eyes closed, his tongue dived between the furrow of her breasts to the other side, then moved back, pausing just as he reached the middle again. Giving both breasts a firm squeeze, he plunged down, saliva dripping from his open mouth, crushing her breasts to his face. She watched the grey-haired man pause then violently shake his head. His loud slurping noises as he motorboated her turned her stomach but she kept still and took it as best she could. After thirty seconds, Jeremiah came up for air.

   “Oh Holly, those tits taste just as good as they look!” He bent down to run his face over her breasts  then put her left breast into his mouth and bit down hard. She moaned in pain as he ground his teeth into her flesh. Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes to deal with the pain as he  bit his away across her skin. As the pain diminished, she opened her eyes to look at a chuckling Jeremiah.

   “We both got a taste then didn’t we?” Jeremiah laughed, moving his eyes up to look Holly once again in the eye, “Me of that delicious tit meat. You just a small taster of some of the pain to come. But it’d be a shame for me to bite one tit and leave the other one out, wouldn’t it?”

   Jeremiah laughed loudly at his own joke then dived back down, Holly’s screech showing that he was once again biting her breast. Behind him the woman looked on. She had seen many such scenes  and knew far worse was coming for this poor girl. If she couldn’t handle this then the next few hours would be unbearable. Still, though she had seen and would see far worse, she still felt sorry for a teen who was only 18 years old and had been snatched from the streets just a few days ago; now  her tits were being nibbled by a lecherous old goat with much worse to come. Such a pretty girl had had her whole life ahead of her but now that would never happen; a lifetime of rape and torture awaited her. She knew this for her story was similar. As the mistress of a gangster and casino owner in Macau, Xia Lin as she had been called, was no stranger to seeing and receiving violence. When he had gifted her to Greta as a sign of good faith, she had found her new position far more privileged. No longer would she be struck or beaten whenever it took a man’s fancy. And though she had escaped that life, she remembered it vividly and watching other women suffer something similar, often worse, was difficult. But her resolve was steely; she would never go back  and no matter how much it hurt, she would stick to her duty. So she just watched as Jeremiah punished Holly.

   “Ahhhhh,” Jeremiah sighed as he released his teeth from Holly’s breasts, “tastiest tits I’ve ever had. But now it’s time to punish you for lying. Are you ready to learn your lesson, Holly?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly said with trepidation at what he might have in store.

   “Good girl. Now let’s get this shirt off,” he said, before ripping the remaining few buttons on her shirt to send them popping around the room, “take it off and hand it to my lovely assistant.”

   Still kneeling, Holly tried to get her shirt off but it was so tight she struggled. Only by thrusting her breasts out at Jeremiah could she do so, her slow wriggle from the short sleeved shirt causing loud laughter beneath her. Once removed, she handed it to a beautifully manicured outstretched hand and resumed her previous position, her breasts receding from Jeremiah’s smiling face.

   “Look at Miss ‘I don’t flaunt my tits’ shoving them into my face,” he cackled, “then you have the gall to lie to me? There was me thinking you were a good, shy little girl; turns out you’re a very naughty whore. Now stand up and lie down across this knee.”

   Creepily smiling, he patted his knee. Carefully not pushing her breasts into his face, Holly shuffled back until she almost had her feet on the floor. Seeing this, Jeremiah spread his legs wider and she very nearly fell into him but just managed to keep her balance. With her breasts still aching from his bites, Holly got to her feet and slowly positioned herself, unsure of how best to do it. Standing between his legs, she placed her hands on his huge thigh and slowly lowered herself. With her knees just off the floor, she stopped, hoping she had done enough.

   “Get that ass higher!” Holly shuffled forward till, supported by her hands and feet as well as his thigh across her stomach, she perched with her arse in the air, her white panties clearly visible and her barely supported breasts seeming about to fall out. Jeremiah enjoyed her pert arse. Unlike most girls with tits like hers, this one had beautifully toned legs, not a hint of cellulite, and a firm round peachy behind. Moving her skirt to make her whole arse visible, he then stroked it firmly.

   “Oooooh,” Jeremiah cooed, “quite the ass you got, Holly. What a pleasant surprise. Most naturally big-titted bitches like you have fat legs and big wobbly asses. But this,” he slapped her arse hard, “is very nice indeed. Now to your punishment. What is a good way to punish a naughty school girl?”

   Holly very quietly sighed. She had been asked before about what punishment she wanted and it hadn’t gone well. First she must understand what had been said to her. Though she had a thicker skin now, it still wasn’t easy trying to understand how anybody could talk to another human being like that. She was a sweet and good natured young woman, not a ‘naturally big-titted bitch’. Yet she knew she couldn’t dwell on the emotional hurt he caused but had to prepare for the physical hurt. This time, choosing her own punishment would be easier. Her position made it clear what he wanted and so, with some trepidation, she ventured an answer.

   “A spanking, Sir?” she said, her position diverting the sound to the ground.

   “Speak up, girl!” Jeremiah barked, although he had heard exactly what she had said.

   “A spanking, Sir?” Holly was much louder.

   “Yes, what an excellent idea! A nice hard spanking to teach you not to lie. How many times do you think I should spank you, Holly?”

   “Erm…” Holly desperately tried to think of an answer that would please him, “ten?”

   “Ten!?” said in mock consternation, “You think ten spanks is enough for lying to me, girl?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly whimpered, “20?”

   “That’s more like it but I don’t think it’s enough. You’ve been such a naughty girl, I think 25 would be best, don’t you?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly was resigned.

   “Good. Now let’s get these panties down whilst my assistant here grabs the paddle.”

   Tensing on the word “paddle”, Holly had a flashback to her best friend slamming a dildo into her pussy and repeatedly crashing a paddle into her breasts. The betrayal she felt as her friend seemed to revel in hurting her was the worst moment of her life and the word brought the feeling rushing back. She barely noticed as he edged her panties down her thigh to expose her pale white arse.

   “Oh Holly,” Jeremiah vaguely sensed her discomfort, “you didn’t think I’d only use my hand, did you? You need to be punished properly, girl, you need to learn your place. Ah, here it is.”

   The woman handed him the paddle and Jeremiah beamed at its weight. And the holes in the surface that would speed up his strikes. Teasing her with the instrument that was to torment her, he pushed down against her creamy arse then rubbed it from side to side, watching small circles of skin emerge through the paddle’s holes. Lightly tapping the paddle against her bum, he leant in.

   “Are you ready for your instructions, Holly?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Good girl. I’m going to strike your ass 25 times. You got that?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Excellent. Now I want you to count the strokes. Let’s try that.” With barely any warning, Jeremiah swung the paddle into her arse with a loud smack. Holly shrieked loudly as he cackled loudly. When his laughter died down, he spoke again. “Stupid bitch! I told you to count the strokes. Lucky it was just a dress rehearsal. Let’s try again.”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly whimpered, her arse still tingling from the first blow. No sooner did she finish than  he crashed the paddle down hard into her already reddening cheeks. The stinging pain ripped across her rump but she had just enough composure to yell ‘one’ in a pain drenched squeal.

   “There we go, that wasn’t so hard was it? Now I think we’re almost ready to begin.”

  Holly gasped at the first two blows not being part of her allotted punishment. This was the first time her arse had been specifically targeted for abuse other than when she had been sodomised but pain was pain, regardless of where it was. Her surprise was greeted with more derision.

   “That’s right, Holly,” Jeremiah chuckled, “I had to be sure you understood before we began. Now if you lose count or fail to count, I’ll have to start again. Remind me again why you’re being punished.”

   “For lying, Sir,” Holly gulped.

   “Good.”

   Resting his hand on her back, Jeremiah took an exaggerated intake of breath to show he was about to begin then brought the paddle down across her peachy bottom. Listening intently, he heard her scream a number which, disappointingly, was ‘one’. He had hoped the bitch would say ‘two’ so he could start again but maybe she was cleverer than he gave her credit for. Undeterred, he swung again, this time enjoying her scream far more. After the third blow, he was in rhythm and able to relax and enjoy it. Her echoing shrieks were like music and knowing he was causing it only increased  his passion. He reached down and grabbed her bra strap as he delivered the fifth blow, lifting Holly up off the floor a little. He closed his eyes as he pulled back for the sixth strike and smiled gleefully as the most intense of her screamed numbers rang in his ears. Readying another strike, he was deliriously happy and knew it would only get better.

   Holly’s arse was on fire but she still screamed the number ‘seven’ as loudly as she could. Lifted up, the cups of her bra squashed her breasts and tears and drool fell slowly to the floor. All she had in her head between each blow was the next number so when the blow struck and pain hit, she merely screamed it out. On reaching ten, Holly was daunted at not even being halfway through but was equally sure she couldn’t endure starting again. So as her arse throbbed with pain and she screamed at the blows, she focussed on keeping count. After thirteen blows, she was in a terrible state. Tears fell, drool dripped in long strands and her sobbing cries never stopped but she still counted.

   “More than halfway through now, Holly,” Jeremiah had to catch his breath, “does it hurt?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly got out through the tears, wary that she was forbidden to lie.

   “Excellent,” Jeremiah panted, “I’m not surprised either; your pretty ass is very red indeed.”

   Looking down, her previously white arse cheeks from the top of her thighs to just over the curve of her rump had been transformed into one continuous scarlet stripe which almost seemed painted on. Touching her skin, he felt the heat radiating off and, smiling widely, thought about the pain every one of his blows had caused. The prospect of increasing that pain was all he needed to continue.

   “Are you ready for the rest, Holly?”

   “Y...y…yes, Sir,” Holly knew what she was agreeing to. Sure enough, a moment later her arse was on fire again, her piercing scream of ‘fourteen’ her only outlet. Each blow made the pain greater but she displayed a resolve she hadn’t known she possessed just a few days ago.

   While Holly lived in a pain filled hell, Jeremiah was having tremendous fun. And fun was the word.  Spanking this beautiful teen was certainly arousing but it was also highly enjoyable. Not enjoyable in the playful sense of spanking a girl in the bedroom but because he enjoyed his power to inflict pain. Exercising this sadistic pleasure on this wet dream of a babe was pure heaven. If many would have seen her pain and wished to help her, Jeremiah had no such impulse. In his mind the girl he was spanking so mercilessly entirely deserved it. And so, after giving twenty lusty blows to her peachy arse, he was disappointed that the pathetic bitch had successfully managed to keep count.

   “TTTTWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEENNNNNTTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY,” Holly screamed desperately.

   “That’s right Holly,” Jeremiah was very disappointed, “I’ve spanked your lovely ass twenty times. And you’ve counted every single one. You really are a good girl, aren’t you?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly answered, her mind still entirely filled with the pain she was in.

   “You’re not going to be naughty anymore, are you?”

   “No, Sir.”

    “You’ve learnt your lesson, haven’t you?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “But there are still five spanks left,” he enjoyed this little game, “what will we do about those?”

   Despite the pain still raging on her arse, Holly’s attention was drawn to the idea that she might be spared the last five blows of her punishment and the incredible pain it would cause. She was desperate to ask him to spare her this agony. Yet she was wary. Asking for mercy hadn’t gone down well before and she dreaded to think what this man might do if he disapproved of her doing so. But as she thought this, she also thought how naïve it was to ask him to stop. She may as well ask to go back to her family and her old life. Sniffling slightly, she tried to prepare her answer.

   “I don’t know, Sir,” she replied tentatively.

   “Of course you don’t,” Jeremiah chuckled, “you’re just a stupid little girl. Which is why you need to be disciplined. You were never beaten as a child were you?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly now knew exactly what the eventual outcome of this conversation would be.

   “Exactly. That’s the problem with young sluts like you. In my day children were beaten whenever they were naughty. But now all these liberal sissies complain even if you smack a child. And what have we got? A generation of whores like you who don’t know their place. Do you agree, Holly?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “So though you think you’ve learnt your lesson, I would be remiss not to fully punish you. It might only encourage you to be naughty again and we wouldn’t want that. Isn’t that true, Holly?”

   “Yes, Sir,” said a heavy hearted Holly, already steeling herself for the pain to come.

   “I’m glad,” He was pleased at how easily he could exert power over her, “stroke 21 incoming!”

   Holly closed her eyes then screamed the number as the paddle crashed once more into her arse.  Determined to make all these last blows count, Jeremiah released his grip on her bra, letting Holly slump back down. Using his left hand to rub her sore arse, he watched Holly look round, wondering whether she had to call out a number for this as well. Jeremiah looked at her and laughed at the worry in her eyes. For a second he thought about punishing her just to hurt her some more but decided against it. He had plenty of painful things in store for her and using too much energy too soon would only ruin his fun later. So he merely chuckled as he stroked his toy’s arse cheeks and  theatrically wound his arm up again. Holly’s head sank back down so her chin once again brushed the top of her breasts before, inevitably, screaming at the top of her voice as she was pummelled by yet another blow. Jeremiah laughed heartily as he put all his strength into the next two blows. But it was time to end her punishment. He placed the paddle against her rump and purred gently. Grabbing her bra strap, he tugged her up hard. She made no attempt to right herself and so for a moment he just looked at her. Pulling her up squashed her tits even more and he thought they would pop out altogether. Her head hung down limply and though her face was obscured slightly by a pigtail, he could see tears. Looking at the picture of misery across his knee spurred him on. Swinging his arm back, he closed his eyes and put all his strength into one final blow.

   “YEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!!” Jeremiah shouted as the paddle whistled through the air to crash into her buttocks with a sickening THWACK, swiftly followed by Holly’s loudest scream of the day, a shriek so piercing the number was barely audible. The sound seemed to ring out forever and when it finally ended, was replaced immediately by sobbing. Jeremiah chuckled while she sobbed, proud of what he had inflicted on the girl. Looking at her red arse, he could see it almost throbbing, the beginning of inevitable bruising already starting to develop. Releasing his grip on her bra, she once again slumped forward still sobbing as he held out the paddle. When the woman took it from him, he leant forward in unconvincing concern.

   “Oh there, there, Holly, your punishment’s all over now. Come to daddy.”

   Wrapping his arms round Holly’s waist, he lifted her up. While not standing on her own, she didn’t make it difficult for him, supporting herself as best she could despite the pain. Waiting a moment, he then sat her down on his leg. Holly jumped so suddenly when her beaten arse touched the fabric of his trousers that her breasts almost popped completely free of her bra. Predictably showing no sympathy, Jeremiah this time forcefully sat her down. She yelped loudly, her sobbing becoming louder as pain again throbbed in her arse. Having tried to keep control all the way through, suddenly it all flooded out of her, the pain and the humiliation too much for a girl of her age and disposition to handle. Jeremiah was gleeful at her reaction. Like a father to an upset child, he pulled her to him, her head against his chest so he could smell her hair and pat her as if to comfort her. While doing this, he reached up and softly kneaded a breast.

   “Don’t cry, baby,” he was amused by the irony of making her to sit on her painful behind while he pretended to comfort her, “if you’re not naughty, I won’t have to do it again. Will you be good?”

   “Y…y…yes, S…sir…sir,” Holly sobbed.

   “Good girl. Now stop that pathetic sobbing, we need to get on.”

   Holly tried but couldn’t, the emotion of the previous few days rushing out. Sat on this monster’s knee with him ‘comforting’ her after what he had done to her while he continued to squeeze her breast, was so humiliating that she simply couldn’t stop crying.

   “I said, stop crying, you little whore,” Jeremiah pulled hard on a pigtail to force her to look directly at him, “don’t disobey me or I’ll have to spank you all over again. You don’t want that, do you?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly sniffled, the threat of another imminent spanking snapping her out of her trance.

   “Good,” Jeremiah said, relieved to hear the end of the girl’s crying, “I don’t want to play with a snivelling little bitch. Have you pulled yourself together now?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly said, sniffing the last few tears away and wiping her face.

   “Excellent,” He squeezing Holly’s tit extra hard on this, “now slip those panties off for me.”

   Holly tried to recover herself, slightly ashamed at being so carried away and sobbing like that in front of this dreadful man. In all her suffering, she had always tried to control herself and not give these people the satisfaction of seeing her lose her cool. These people wanted to see her in pain and distressed but the effort of denying them the satisfaction took its toll. Taking a few breaths, she bent over and pulled her panties over her knees to fall at her ankles. While she wiggled her legs to drop them to the floor, Jeremiah undid her skirt clasp, pulling it away and tossing it to the side. Now only her bra protected her modesty but that wouldn’t last long. When Jeremiah placed his hand gently against her slit, the girl gasped a little and her eyes went wide as he steadily began to rub.

   “You like that, don’t you? You love it because you’re like all the others, a filthy nympho whore.”

   With that Jeremiah forced her face toward him to look straight into her eyes then clamped his lips on hers. Holly did nothing, merely sitting there and taking this as she had the rest of her ordeal. As he forced his tongue inside her, he forced a finger in her pussy, figuratively raping her in two holes. After a minute of moaning into her mouth and finger fucking her he stopped abruptly.

   “But you’re not here to have your pussy rubbed. Get up!” Shouting, Jeremiah abruptly took his hand away and bounced her off his knee. Holly wobbled slightly on her feet and when he spanked her hard, squealed and leapt forward, her red arse staring tantalisingly at her tormentor. Jeremiah couldn’t resist kicking and sent her sprawling to the floor. As she lay there, he struggled to his feet.

   “I said get up!” Jeremiah barked, hiding his pleasure at the girl’s struggle to get up, “Don’t disobey me. Stand up straight over there and push those tits out!”

   Holly scrambled forward slightly on her hands and knees before getting to her feet. She slowly turned and looked at Jeremiah, the patronising father look having given way to a look of rage. Terrified at what he might do when angry given what he had already done when seemingly calm, Holly immediately stood up straight and, reluctantly, forced her chest out. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and tried not to notice Jeremiah leering at her bulging breasts.

   “Don’t make me shout at you again!” Jeremiah barked, “Cane, please.”

   Holly blinked when she heard this. The woman took a long thin wooden cane from behind the armchair and gave it to him, the menacing stick looking ludicrously small in his chubby fingers. Swishing the cane through the air, he edged towards her, smiling.

   “Good,” Jeremiah said, his eyes never leaving her overflowing chest, “tits out. Show them off to me, Holly, you should be proud of those puppies.”

   Jeremiah knew that even if Holly had once been proud of her mammoth breasts, she wasn’t anymore. He knew Greta well and was certain she had tortured Holly’s big tits something fierce, her bruises evidence enough of that. Stretching the cane out, he ran it across her cleavage and his own bite marks. The spanking had been an interesting and highly enjoyable sideshow but he had really come for this. That he couldn’t do in regular society what he was about to do here was, in his opinion, a travesty. He saw so many women who deserved exactly this treatment, stuck up self important bitches who thought they owned the world. When he was growing up, women had known their place, having tea on the table when their husbands came home and spreading their legs when they were told. He remembered vividly his grandfather telling him, about how women in his day knew their place but that now they had forgotten their role was to please and look after men. That was fifty years ago and he shuddered to think what his grandfather would now make of how bitches like this one carried on. The old man would be turning in his grave. Running the cane over the bountiful breasts of this helpless girl, it didn’t matter one iota whether she was one of these women or not; to him she represented everything wrong with modern women. And he was about to punish her for it.

   “Right, Holly,” Jeremiah said, making his point by bringing the cane down on top of her breast, “that’s the preamble done with. Now you know how to behave, we can have some fun. Before we take that bra off so I can see those tits in all their glory, let me tell you a few things about biology.”

   Once again, Jeremiah swished the cane through the air, harder this time, against Holly’s chest. She let out a squeak of pain, nothing more, as a red stripe appeared across her pale skin. As she watched him turn slightly to one side she sighed. Knowing he was going to hurt her was bad enough but listening to him was just as bad. But she had to listen to him as he rattled off some senseless drivel, no doubt punctuated by the occasional blow from the cane. Being talked down to, belittled, humiliated and degraded was almost, though not quite, as bad as the pain, rape and abuse. She was an intelligent young woman and destined for a bright future yet she was utterly beholden to the whim of this psychopath. All she could do was just stand and endure.

   “I imagine you don’t know why men like girls with big tits, do you, Holly?” Jeremiah paced in front of her, the cane held ready to lash out at any moment.

   “No, Sir,” Holly replied obediently, knowing that he wanted her to behave like a dim thing.

   “Of course you don’t,” Jeremiah said, flicking the cane hard again onto her breasts, “after all you are just a stupid girl. But men have come up with a number of theories. You see, though titties are great fun to play with, they do serve a purpose. Do you know what that purpose is, Holly?”

   “For…for feeding babies, Sir,” Holly was unsure whether she was supposed to answer correctly.

   “Good girl,” Jeremiah patronisingly flicked the cane against her breasts for no apparent reason, “for feeding babies. But then you would know that, wouldn’t you! Now men are programmed to pass on as many of their genes and make sure as many of their offspring survive as possible. And because tits have a role in feeding babies, men are very interested in them. One theory is that big tits mean you’ve got access to food. Do you know why they might think that?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly concealed how irritated she was by this and then squeaked with pain again as another stripe was laid across her chest.

   “Well, you see these gigantic mounds on your chest Holly?” He accentuated this by bringing the cane down twice hard on each breast.

   “Yessssssss, Sir,” Holly said through gritted teeth.

   “Look at them! What are they made of?”

   Holly looked down at her breasts, the tops already criss-crossed with tiny red lines where the cane had hit her, bruises and bite marks all over the surface. For the first time, she properly looked at herself, the evidence of her tortures staring right back at her. Each mark on her otherwise flawless skin had Greta’s signature on it. Holly wondered if she would ever be able to look at herself in the mirror without remembering the awful tortures she had suffered. Still, she couldn’t dwell too long on the future when she had to get through the present.

   “Sir,” she stuttered, “they’re made of fat, Sir.”

   “That’s right,” Jeremiah flicked the cane against Holly’s toned stomach this time, “big fat tits. Those wobbling lumps are just big sacks of fat. And for cavemen fat meant plenty of food. So if a cave bitch had big tits like you that meant they’d have plenty of food to feed a baby. Isn’t that interesting?”

   “Yes, Sir. Eeeeeeeek!” Another cane strike to her sumptuous bosom.

   “So that’s one theory. There’s another one, would you like to hear that one as well?”

   “Yes, Sir,” came the familiar reply.

   “Well, some people think that back in the Stone Age men thought big tits meant more milk, and more milk would make a baby more likely to survive. So if you had those ridiculously big knockers back then, you’d be very popular, men mounting you left, right and centre. Of course, that isn’t quite how it works. Even flat chested bitches can produce plenty of milk to feed a hungry growing baby. Do you know how much milk you can squirt out, Holly?”

   “No, Sir,” she replied crestfallen, now knowing where this exchange was inevitably leading.

   “Well, before I tell you why I like big tits, I think we should find out,” As he strode forward, he  dropped the cane and raised his hands to her breasts, “now let’s unleash those beauties.”

   Jeremiah had been waiting for this ever since he had planned coming back to Germany, even more so on seeing this vision of beauty in front of him. Now it was time to see the ultimate prize. He had one last look at her breasts in their fabric prison, pushed out obscenely by her ill fitting bra, and with some trepidation, reached round her body to her bra strap. Her tits looked so good he was certain they could not live up to their promise. He had an awful vision of undoing this bra and her tits sagging out to hang down by her navel. The closer it got, the more anxious he became about being in for a major disappointment, a disappointment he would punish brutally and severely. Reaching all the way round, he hugged her tightly to him, the feeling of her breasts against him magical. His tongue stuck out as he fiddled with the clasp, occasionally flicking her nose. Finally undoing it, he then stepped back, the bra so tight the cups remained in place, obscuring her nipples. He looked at her, standing almost entirely naked, and nervously prepared for impending disappointment.

   “Hands by your sides, wriggle those tits free, Holly, there’s a good girl.”

   Holly paused to wonder what he meant by that. One look at his rage filled face told her not to wait too long. Still unsure of what to do, Holly began to sway slightly from side to side and felt the straps at the back slapping against her as she continued to wriggle her shoulders to and fro. Looking up, she saw the leering drooling face of her tormentor just staring at her chest so she sped up since she was obviously doing it right. Slowly the shoulder straps slid down her arms and though feeling like a cheap stripper in a sleazy bar, she kept shaking. Jeremiah watched mesmerised as with every centimetre the straps moved, Holly’s tits began to jiggle more and more. Eyes fixed on her chest, his mouth dropped open as the cups of her bra slowly fell away to reveal two large light coloured nipples atop the most perfect pair of breasts he had ever seen in his life.

   “Jesus Christ,” he gasped, mouth agape and eyes wide.

   Jeremiah didn’t care what Holly did now for as the bra fell to the floor, he was transfixed. All his fears disappeared when her magnificent globes were revealed. These were breasts as perfectly symmetrical as they were gigantic, each massive globe sitting high on her chest without a hint of sag, perfectly round and just begging to be squeezed. The pale untanned skin was covered in bruises but this didn’t detract from their beauty. His eyes drank in every inch of her sumptuous mounds, from the gentle slope at the top to the large pale nipples adorning each jiggling tit. And Holly continued to sway hypnotically, her heavy tits wobbling tantalisingly from side to side.

   “Stand still,” Jeremiah said, his eyes not moving as if glued to her chest. Greta had promised him something special to play with but this time she had really outdone herself. He had seen plenty of  tits in his time. He’d even had a chance to play with them, both with and without their owner’s consent. But these were something else entirely. These were the two most perfect things he had ever laid eyes upon. He reached out a chubby fingered hand and lightly, delicately, brushed it against the soft skin of one breast. Purring with delight, he stretched out his fingers and softly squeezed the yielding flesh. Holly stood obediently still as he sank his fingers into her breasts, at once soft and inviting as well as youthfully firm. He shuffled forward slightly and raised his other hand, placing both beneath her breasts. As he lifted them up slightly, he was struck by how heavy they were, great sacks of joy delivered from heaven. He pushed upwards until he couldn’t push anymore and then quickly took his hands away, watching in wonder as her tits bounced and jiggled. He repeated this several times, each time chuckling with delight at the sight. Then, with the flat of his hands, he bounced her tits first up and down then side to side, playing with them like a cat would with a ball of string. Next he gripped as much of each breast as he could and squeezed hard, the supple flesh so delightfully pliant in his hands. It must have been at least three whole minutes after she had revealed her breasts that Jeremiah finally snapped out of his trance like state.

   “Oh Holly,” Jeremiah said, his hands not leaving her tits, “your mistress has really outdone herself this time. She always treats me well but giving me these to play with really spoils me. I think these might be the best pair of tits I’ve ever seen!”

  Holly didn’t react to Jeremiah’s words or actions since she was stealing herself for the pain to come. Compared to what she had endured, having her breasts fondled was nothing; unwanted, creepy and sickening but mercifully not very painful. Of course, when his stumpy fingers closed on a bruised part of her breast, it was uncomfortable but nothing she could not handle. But she knew that just fondling her breasts would not be enough and though she tried not to dwell on it, the prospect of imminent pain always loomed. Suddenly Jeremiah’s fingers which had been gently teasing her nipples to erection, twisted the sensitive nubs hard. Holly gasped as pain again tore into her breasts.

   “You ungrateful cunt!” Jeremiah barked, taking Holly by surprise.

   “Sir…”she stammered in response, but was cut off by another sharp twist of her nipple.

   “I pay you a fucking compliment and you don’t even thank me?” came the angry response.

   “Sorry, Sir,” a panicked Holly blurted out, “thank you, Sir, thank you.”

   “Why should I have to prompt you to show manners, you little bitch?” Jeremiah again violently twisted Holly’s nipples, “I thought you said you would be a good girl?”

   “Sorry, Sir,” Holly said frantically, “I will be good Sir, I promise, please Sir.”

   “You promised to be good before but that’s twice you’ve been very naughty,” Jeremiah’s anger was replaced by patronising disappointment, “I can’t let you get away with such naughtiness, can I?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly said meekly, hanging her head.

   “Do you like being punished, Holly?” Taking his hands from her breasts, Jeremiah put them on her bright red arse. Holly gasped then squealed as he gripped hard, digging his fingers into her buttocks.

   “No, Siiiiirrrrrrr,” she whined, pushing her hips forward in an attempt to escape him.

   “Then why do you keep being naughty?” Jeremiah continued to squeeze her arse, pulling the girl into him so her breasts pressed against her chest, “Or are you just too stupid to realize?”

   “Yesssss, Sirrrrrr,” Holly barely registered the ignominy of calling herself stupid due to the pain.

   “I thought that might be the case,” Jeremiah’s hands left Holly’s arse, much to her relief, and moved back to caressing her breasts, “too much effort growing these puppies I think. Still, I’m glad you did. I can’t very well play with your brain, can I?”

   “No, Sir,” she said despondently.

   “That’s the problem with women these days,” Jeremiah said, his hands still fondling Holly’s tits absentmindedly, “they spend too much time trying to be intellectual instead of doing what they should be doing; pleasing men. I’m glad you haven’t done that, Holly. Congratulations!”

   “Thank you, Sir,” Holly said, trying to not let his mocking tone get to her.

   “Women nowadays think they’re equal for some reason. Can I ask you a question, Holly?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Do you feel equal?”

   “No, Sir,” she answered reluctantly but truthfully.

   “No, Sir,” Jeremiah parroted, savouring the words, “I’m very glad to hear you say that. It means I’m doing a good job. Because you’re not equal. Not by a long way. You’re just a dumb pathetic little bitch with a pretty face and big tits, aren’t you?”

    “Y…Yes, Sir,” Holly replied, taken aback by how anyone could reduce another to just bits.

   “That’s all you are. And now you’re exactly where you belong; naked and waiting to please me by being tortured. That’s why you exist. That’s why you’ve got that pretty face, those nice long legs, tight little arse, pretty pink cunt and those big fat titties. All so I’ll enjoy playing with you more.”

   Holy just stared blankly straight ahead during Jeremiah’s rant, only trying to listen to places where she might be expected to respond. But she did hear what Jeremiah was saying. She was a fiercely intelligent girl, a firm believer that men and women were equal and that she was far more than her physical attributes. Yet despite how horrible what he had said was, Holly had to think he was right.  What she had been outside didn’t matter here; here she was only “tits, ass, and cunt” as Greta put it. Her body was only a plaything for these monsters and her mind didn’t matter at all. And as a toy, she could be discarded at any moment. As if reading her mind, Jeremiah spoke.

   “That’s right, Holly,” one hand migrated to her cheek, “you’re a pathetic, worthless cunt. You only exist to please me. The quicker you realise that the quicker you can settle into your new life. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll enjoy having your tits whipped and your ass spanked!”

   He laughed heartily at his little joke, confident she wouldn’t discover some deep rooted masochism anytime soon. Taking time to calm down, he squeezed her tits like stress balls while he laughed.

   “Of course it doesn’t matter if you do enjoy it,” he looked directly into Holly’s big brown eyes, “it will happen even if you don’t. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t enjoy it. I’d be very surprised if you did though with what I’ve got in mind. You see, we all have our little fetishes. I bet you do too, you little whore. Well, my little fetish, what really gets me off, is making pretty girls like you scream. And not scream in ecstasy, oh no. I like making them scream in pain. There’s something about the power, the sounds and the sights of torturing a gorgeous babe that gets my juices flowing. And if they got tits like you, well, that’s just heaven on earth.”

   Looking into his wrinkled face, confusion and fear flooded her mind. She had been confused for the past few days but Jeremiah saying it bought it back; she simply couldn’t understand anyone finding pleasure in hurting others. She knew people had strange fetishes, bondage and the like, but that was consensual. That people actually enjoyed inflicting pain on a non-consenting victim outside of horror films was unbelievable. In her worst nightmares being such a victim was equally unimaginable. Her fear was more obvious; she was scared because soon she would be in terrible pain.

   “Right, Holly,” Jeremiah took his hands off her tits and clapped them together, “enough chatter. I think it’s time for another punishment, don’t you?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly’s hands instinctively moved to her bottom as if that would protect it.

   “Oh no,” Jeremiah said, holding a hand out behind him for the implement, “as much as I’d like to spank you, I will give your ass a rest. Since they’re displayed so beautifully, I thought it time to have some fun with those big ass titties. Paddle!”

   Watching the woman pass the paddle that had already caused so much agony, Holly began to shake, anticipating the coming pain he would cause. Holding the paddle, he relished her fear. Seeing a chance to mentally torment her, he raised it quickly and laughed when she flinched.

   “Stay still, Holly,” he chuckled, “if you didn’t want to be punished, you shouldn’t have been so naughty. Can you stand and be brave for me?”

   “Yes, Sir,” her voice was unsteady.

   “You better stay still. If you flinch, try to move out the way or fall over then I’ll have to tie you up, and you won’t like that. Is that understood?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Good girl,” Jeremiah put the paddle against the side of her breast and tapped it lightly, “now don’t worry, this time you don’t have to count. I haven’t decided how many times to hit your tits so I’ll stop when I think you’ve been punished enough. Just concentrate on screaming. You ready?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Show me you’re ready. Ask me to punish you.”

   “Sir,” Holly said, trying to find the right words, “please punish me, Sir.”

   “If you insist,” chuckling, he tapped the paddle on the side of Holly’s right breast, each time pulling it further back and striking harder. When the wood slapping her skin became audible, he hit her three more times then theatrically pulled back his arm to swing with all his might. Its loud THWACK  crashing into her tit was continued by Holly’s shriek, her breasts jiggling with mesmerizing violence before slowly coming to a rest. Smiling at the beautiful sound of her pain, he hit her again in the same spot, the sound of this blow seeming to catch up with the still ringing echo of the first. After three hefty slaps, the side of Holly’s tit began to turn pink. Keen not to let any part of Holly’s breasts off the hook, he switched his hold to a backhand grip then unleashed three ferocious strikes to the side of her left tit. As her squeals became high-pitched shrieks, Jeremiah paused to savour them.

   “Oh boy,” he was clearly enjoying himself, “I could listen to that all day. I can’t wait to get you really screaming. Does it hurt, Holly?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly was slightly breathless.

   “Excellent,” beaming, he ran the paddle across her ample chest, “When I’m finished, you won’t believe how much your tits hurt. A man loves nothing more than a pair of big all-natural boobies.”

    Taking another horizontal swipe at her tits, this time he just caught her left nipple with the edge of the panel. Holly howled, her swollen nipples so sensitive that even a light touch would have hurt. And there was nothing light about Jeremiah’s attentions.

   “Which means for me,” he said, this time swinging the paddle down hard on the top of her right breast, “there’s nothing better than torturing some monster tits.” To illustrate this, he crashed an uppercut full onto the underside of a soft tit, causing Holly to off-balance and step back to steady herself. Quickly resuming position, she hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Stand! Fucking! Still!” each word punctuated by slapping the paddle hard into Holly’s breasts, “If I have to tie you up to be punished, I won’t be happy. Have you got that, you dumb whore?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly whimpered, “Sorry, Sir.”

   “You will be,” he said, crashing another backhand into Holly’s nipple, “now remind me what I was saying before you disobeyed me.” Holly froze, her mind whirring. She had been barely listening, all her energy going into not being knocked over by the force of the blows. She racked her brain for what he had been rambling about. “Quickly, cunt!” Jeremiah shouted, slamming the paddle down onto the top of her breast again.

   Even as she squealed, Holly thought frantically. He had shouted at her when she had lost balance  but what had he said before it? He’d been talking about how much pain she’d be in, how much men loved breasts. Jeremiah held the paddle and just as he was about to strike, it came to her.

    “Sir,” she shouted, stopping the paddle for a moment, “you were talking about torturing…t...”

   Desperate to get the answer, Holly hadn’t thought about what she was saying until it came out of her mouth, causing her to tail off and hang her head in shame. She couldn’t bring herself to complete the sentence and expected to get in trouble for it.

   “Well remembered,” he said, before swinging the paddle once more into her chest, “and I’ll forgive you for not finishing your sentence, baby. I know it’s hard for you English girls to talk about stuff like that, especially when you know it’s your tits I’ll be torturing!”

   Taking a slight step to the left, he turned side-on then brought the paddle all the way back and  slammed it full into her chest. Holly could do nothing about this, not even scream as all the air was knocked out of her. When her legs gave way, she stumbled back before tumbling to the floor.  Watching her lying on the floor and gasping, desperately trying to breathe, watching her tits rise up and down as she fought for air, her struggles were nothing but an amusement for him. Even lying down, her breasts still looked huge being simply too big for gravity to have much effect. Before Holly could get up, he loomed over her with the paddle still clutched menacingly in his hand.

   “Well, well, well,” he stared down at his prone victim, “Didn’t I tell you to stay on your feet?”

    “Y…y…yes, S…Sir,” Holly wheezed, her breath only just returning.

   “So what are you doing lying on the floor?”

   “I…I…”

   “Shut up, you stupid little slut,” Jeremiah barked before bending down as much as he could to  stare into her face “You had your chance to talk and you ruined it. You are a worthless, useless little whore and you need to be treated properly. And since you can’t be trusted to do as you’re told, you’ll have to be tied up. Fetch the equipment!”

   Jeremiah shouted this last straight into Holly’s face but it was clearly not meant for her. In the distance, Holly heard heels coming closer and out the corner of her eye she saw the woman confidently stride past her. Holly had been bound before and found it agonising, so being bound again was terrifying. But as usual she had no choice. She could only stare straight into the eyes of her tormentor as he swung his arm like a scythe to cannon into the soft flesh of her breast, screaming as blow after blow slammed into her tits. Jeremiah worked up a tennis-like rhythm with forehand and backhand strokes to ensure each breast was given equally brutal attention. Amidst the deafening combination of wood slapping against flesh, Holly’s screams and Jeremiah’s roars of pleasure and anger, the sound of her next torture device being brought over was quite lost. But the Asian woman didn’t seem to care as she wheeled the frightening looking apparatus into position behind Jeremiah who was still savagely beating Holly’s tits. The exertion was effecting him for she saw a  bead of sweat drip from his grey hair straight onto the girl’s face. Her initial job done, she just stood and watched, knowing the assault’s ferocity would diminish as he tired. Sure enough, after a few more seconds, he stopped swinging the paddle and just stood over the weeping babe, panting.

   “Wow!” Jeremiah was breathing heavily, “That was some goddam beautiful screaming. I’d save the tears though if I were you, baby. We’ve barely started yet. Get up.”

   Holly sniffled, tears streaming down her face. Every part of her felt on fire, her beaten arse rubbed  on the abrasive stone floor when she moved and her breasts screamed in pain. Jeremiah had gone at them savagely, making the outer side of her breasts an intense crimson. As she flopped around,  Jeremiah tucked the paddle into his waistband and bent down again. Reaching for her tits, he grabbed them as hard as he could and then with the strength of a man in much better shape, pulled up. Squealing like a pig as she was yanked up by her tits, Holly took almost her whole weight on her sensitive globes. Holly took care of herself and so she weighed relatively little for her size but the American still grunted at the considerable effort needed to lift her. His fingers digging deep into her flesh caused her much pain but finally she was high enough to use her feet and slowly but surely he hauled her into a standing position. Needing a break after his efforts, Jeremiah pulled her to him, savouring her feminine smell while regaining his breath to speak again.

   “Get your ass over there,” Jeremiah pushed Holly off and pointed behind, “and do as you’re told.”

   With that he returned to the chair, to rest until everything was set up. Holly waited a moment and brought her hands up to try and comfort her throbbing breasts and then, not wanting trouble, turned. Although she had never seen anything like it before, the sight terrified her. Five metres away was a what looked like a sinister jungle gym with three thick horizontal metal bars operated by a series of pulleys. As the Asian woman beckoned her over, Holly slowly moved toward the frame, each step revealing more if its workings. Each bar was about four inches in diameter, about six feet wide and attached to cogs at either end mounted on toothed pillars. Looking at the lever, Holly could see each bar’s height could be adjusted by cranking it up or down these pillars. At the base she could see each of the bars was also mounted on sliders, allowing them to be pulled either forward or backwards, meaning the three bars could be in adjusted almost infinitely. At the ends of each bar Holly could see what were clearly cuffs, leaving nothing to the imagination regarding its purpose.

   “Hands off your tits,” the woman said impassively, “and come here.”

   Dropping her hands, Holly walked gingerly to the rear of the machine. As she did, the woman picked up a long length of white nylon rope. Holly looked at where she had got the rope and saw  other items but before she could identify them, she felt a hand on her shoulder. With the woman’s long nails draped almost round her neck, Holly was led back to a bar almost level with her crotch.

   “Stay.” Holly obeyed as the woman went to the side and cranked a lever, raising the bar at her thighs to below her navel. The mechanical cranking only added to the sinister atmosphere. Satisfied, the woman moved behind her, pushing her up to the bar and bending her over it. Holly didn’t offer any resistance, passively allowing herself to be moved. After adjusting her position, mostly to further spread her legs, the next thing Holly felt was the rope passing over her back, then round the bar and between her legs. The woman tied it tightly around her upper thigh, first one and then the other, binding Holly to the frame. In a minute and  with minimal effort, the woman had bound her so securely that even the most violent struggle would not loosen the bonds.

   “Spread your legs.” As Holly shuffled her legs apart, the woman ran her hand down the inside of Holly’s thigh to her ankle and pulled a cuff attached to some thick elastic from the frame’s base. She  cuffed an ankle then let go, the elastic pulling Holly’s leg hard sideways as it contracted. After the other leg was also cuffed, her legs were now pulled hard in opposite directions and she had to squeeze hard to keep somewhat comfortable. With legs spread wide and bonds making her lean slightly forward, both her holes were fully displayed. Holly was sure this wasn’t a coincidence.

   “Lean forward and don’t move.” The woman’s voice still betrayed no emotion but Holly preferred her orders to Jeremiah’s so she leaned forward. With no support for her body, she knew this would quickly become painful but she needn’t have worried. Head down, pigtails brushing the side of her face, she could only hear another bar being moved into position above her shoulders and down across her upper back. Heels clicked on the floor as the woman came round to her front. Pulling her right arm up and stretching it back along the bar, her wrist was then tightly bound with more rope  followed by her elbow. After her other arm was done likewise, Holly could only move her head but,  hanging limply, she just looked down. And saw a third bar moved below her, its height adjusted to just inches from the ground below her midriff. As she still saw the woman’s pedicured toes, when she heard more footsteps, there was only one person it could be. Holly’s heart sank.

   “Oh wow!” he exclaimed as Holly kept her gaze averted, “You won’t be going anywhere soon, will you, honey. Let’s see that pretty face.”

   Before Holly could raise her head to look at him, a hand pulled her pigtails to jerk her head back. Quickly a leather strap was placed round her forehead and connected to the bar at her shoulders with metal hooks on the ends. With her head forced forward, she could only look at Jeremiah or, more accurately, since he had taken off both his saturated jacket and shirt, at his grotesque hairy stomach just inches from her face. Which a wrinkled hand gently stroked.

   “There we go,” he said, his savage anger when beating her on the floor seemingly gone, “such a cutie. I can see you’re bound up nice and tight. Can you move at all?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly said, a cursory attempt to wriggle confirming she was indeed completely bound.

   “You can’t even jiggle those big fat tits?”

   “No, Sir.”

   “Oh, that’s a shame,” his face was almost level with Holly’s, “but I wouldn’t worry, honey. They’ll soon be jiggling plenty all by themselves. You haven’t been a very good girl, have you, Holly?”

   “No, Sir,” Holly said, just waiting for the next punishment to be announced.

   “No, not a very good girl at all. In fact, you’ve been very naughty. But I know it wasn’t all your fault. You see, I forgot you’re just a little slut, aren’t you, honey? A filthy teenage whore, isn’t that right?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly said, the innocence she’d had now having completely disappeared.

   “Yes, Sir, indeed. So because you’re a dirty ho, I’ll reward you. Now I’d love to fuck your slutty cunt myself; maybe I will later but I haven’t finished punishing you. So someone else has to fuck you.”

   With this, he moved to reveal the woman who had bound Holly facing away, having discarded her black robe to show her almost naked rear, her olive skin covered only by a thin leather thong — and dozens of scars. Holly gasped as she looked at the criss-crossing patterns on the woman’s back which were well healed but had been very deep. She knew instinctively a whip had caused them, wielded by someone who didn’t care about the pain and permanent damage caused. Holly’s bondage made her shudder more mental than physical, as she imagined how much pain this woman had endured and, identifying with her, how much she might have to suffer herself.

   “Wait!” Jeremiah said, seeing Holly’s horror, “Let her see your scars. You see how deep they are? Just imagine how painful that must have been. But that’s what happens when you whores are naughty. Are you going to be a good girl now?”

   “Yes, Sir,” Holly said frantically, unable to take her eyes off the woman’s scarred back.

   “That’s good to hear,” Jeremiah said, gleefully drinking in her fear, “because it’d be shame if I had to do that to your beautiful young skin. Shame for you, I mean. I’d have a fantastic time! Just think  how much you’d scream as I tore into your flesh. Mmmmm!”

   Holly whimpered, knowing it was the truth. This monster would enjoy permanently disfiguring a woman and she was now terrified he would do exactly that. But she was also thinking about the woman. She had assumed that this woman, like the three sadists in the basement or this fat troll,  just enjoyed others’ suffering. But this woman had once been in her position and yet had gained a position of relative power. Maybe, just maybe, if she behaved herself, she might escape this world of pain. While thinking this, Jeremiah once again loomed into sight, his wrinkled face right up to hers.

   “Of course, you’ll never be like her. She no longer gets whipped, tortured or raped. Your mistress employs her as a servant whereas you’ll always be a slave. You’re going to be a pain slut forever, suffering torture after torture, rape after rape until you’re all used up and disposed of. This is your life so get used to it. Now, let’s see what will be fucking you very soon.”

   Jeremiah stood to let a shell-shocked Holly see the woman again. And again the bound girl gasped in horror, not at the scars on her belly but at what protruded from her crotch. When the woman  turned to reveal its full scale, Holly gasped again. The foot long strap-on was truly terrifying but that wasn’t what made her whimper. The dildo wasn’t one long piece of hardened rubber but was divided into three circular sections each 3” high and across, with a tapered cone at the front. If she could have moved, she would have run but she couldn’t and so she begged.

  “Please, Sir, please don’t make me…don’t…please, Sir…I’ll…”

   “I know,” Jeremiah smirked, patting her head, “it’s quite something, isn’t it. Just think, in a few moments that thing will be imbedded deep in your cunt. Isn’t that exciting?”

   “Sir, please…I…I can’t tak…”

   “Silence, you snivelling cunt!” Jeremiah barked, “That thing is going up your pussy and there’s nothing you can do about it. And that isn’t all you’ll have to scream about.”

   With that, Jeremiah showed her what she thought was the same paddle he’d used on her before. But when he flipped it over, she gasped again. Embedded in the rich mahogany were thick metal wires which only just rose above the surface. In an agony of terror, Holly squirmed against her bonds with such desperation that she forgot the consequence of speaking out of turn.

   “Please, Sir, don’t ...,” she begged, tears welling up in her eyes.

   SMACK!

   “Shut the fuck up!” Jeremiah said, his free hand smacking Holly across the face, “I told you I didn’t want to hear your whining limey voice! Yet you disobey again, you stupid fucking whore!”

   The sound of his hard slap and her anguished cry combined in a very satisfying way. The second slap sent her over the edge and she began to cry. He wasn’t really angry nor did he blame her for fearing the huge dildo about to be shoved up her cunt. But just hurting this beautiful bitch wasn’t enough; he also wanted to torment her psychologically, to blame herself for the horrible pains she suffered and to genuinely believe she deserved everything that happened. Pointing, he sent his assistant to Holly’s rear and stepped back in front of Holly, grasping the wooden paddle tightly.

   “Right, you big titted bitch,” his face was only inches from hers, “time to get fucked. In a few seconds, that huge dildo will be forced up your tight young cunt. But I’ve just remembered ... I told you why some people like girls with big tits but I never told you why I did, did I, sweetie? So while that thing tears you apart, I’ll tell you why I want to play with you and your big fat titties.”

   Forced to look ahead, Holy could only listen to Jeremiah, mystified by the sheer enjoyment he got from talking to her like that. But pressure on her pussy soon distracted her. Placing her strap-on against Holly’s slit, the woman had slowly moved it into position at her opening. Once lined up, she grabbed her hips to slowly ease herself forward. As Holly’s lips slowly parted to allow the huge thing into her tight dry hole, a chubby hand grabbed a big soft tit.

   “Mmmmmm, so soft,” squeezing her breast, Jeremiah groaned, “who’d have thought two sacks of fat on some dumb whore would feel so good. I can’t get enough of them. Look at them bounce!”

   Jeremiah bounced Holly’s huge tit up and down, scarcely believing how perfect this bitch’s breasts were. It was a crime they weren’t permanently displayed. As he played, he looked at her face. She really was beautiful and with her wide brown eyes slightly red from crying, she looked gorgeous. He could only imagine how often her classmates and teachers had dreamt of covering her pretty face with sticky white cum. What would they have given to play with her giant tits as he was now?

   “And look how they swing!” slapping his hand against her tit’s soft creamy skin, “I’d like to thank you for growing these babies for me to play with. But I’ll let you in on a secret. I don’t just love playing with big titted whores because I like how their tits look and feel.”

   When the paddle hit her hanging tit, all Holly’s anticipation didn’t stop her scream straight into Jeremiah’s face, the combined sound of wood and wire on tit flesh with her wail making him smile. He enjoyed it so much he battered her tit four more times. Already the results of its special additions were appearing as thin red streaks more intense than the general reddish hue of her tortured tits.

    “You see,” Jeremiah kept swinging the paddle into her hanging breasts, “when a bitch has tits like yours, they can’t be taken seriously. You don’t see news reporters with ridiculous udders like these nor any politicians with such massive melons. In all history, do you ever see bitches with udders like yours? Whores like you are only good for one thing.”

   The last sentence was emphasised by a ferocious forehand to her breast. Holly’s scream this time voiced both the pain of the blow and her pussy stretching as the dildo advanced another inch into her fuck hole and nearly to its full diameter. Even when she stopped screaming from the blows, she was still groaning from being stretched. Having been ordered to fuck the girl with this huge dick, the woman was unconcerned by the tight fit and would do so, regardless of her screams. Impassively staring ahead, she pulled Holly’s hips to thrust further in, the first of the balls now fully inside her. As her supple labia closed tightly around the dildo’s thinner stem, Holly screeched.

   “With tits like that,” Jeremiah continued ferociously backhanding them, “I can’t take you seriously. That’s why I love big juicy tits because it’s so easy to torture them. You’re not a person, just a toy, who exists only to be played with. No man would ever marry you, Holly, they’d just fuck you and toss you away. If you were lucky, a man might have played with you nicely. But as you know, I don’t.”

   On the next blow, he smiled when a wire caught a nipple, her scream becoming even more intense and made worse by the second ball going inside her cunt. Holly felt totally full with less than half the monstrous dildo inside her. When he hit again, the wired paddle made her breasts feel on fire. Time after time, her anguished cry followed the paddle’s satisfying smack thudding into her soft swinging breasts which now felt like an inferno. Assaulted from all sides, her tits jumped and danced madly, something the sweating hulk clearly enjoyed. Pausing for breath, he was pleased to hear that even when not assaulting her, the girl was still in pain. Six inches of the knotted dildo was now deep inside her resistant cunt and the tapered point was at her cervix. Unable to force the notched rubber cock further up, the woman looked at Jeremiah. With a small nod he signalled her to begin.

   The woman didn’t especially want to hurt her but had no choice. Gripping the girl’s creamy white hips, she paused a moment then slammed forward. Only an inch went in but when the tip smashed against her cervix, Holly’s scream was high-pitched and wavering. Jeremiah smiled at her face, mouth open and eye’s scrunched up, screaming. Pulling the dildo out slightly only to ram forward again produced another scream. Holly tried to squirm away but she was tied too tightly. Again the dildo thrust in, its force lifting her slightly and making her huge breasts jiggle on her chest.

   “That’s right, bitch,” Jeremiah was timing the paddle with the thrusting dildo, “scream. Scream,  you little whore. You wanted your cunt stuffed and now you’re screaming about it. Ungrateful slut.”

   Striking his paddle against her dangling tits, Jeremiah then walked round trailing it along her back  to see what was causing all her pain. On seeing Holly’s plump pussy lips stretched so extraordinarily thinly around the massive phallus pumping in and out of her, he could not believe she’d got even half the massive cock inside her tight teen pussy. He looked at her perfect tits which even hanging down were still pert, almost impervious to gravity, quivering like jelly with each painful thrust and tortured scream. Grabbing them hungrily, he squeezed the soft flesh between his hands.

   “Do you know what, Holly?” Jeremiah said as he bounced her tits in his hands, “Beating those giant tits has made me quite thirsty. I need a drink. And you’re about to give me one.”

   She hadn’t heard what he said over the pain in her pussy and scarcely felt him releasing her tits to pick up a small table and a large bowl from the corner. As her hoarse wavering high-pitched screams  continued each time the tip rammed into her, he put the bowl on the table just below her quivering tits. Then, taking the soft flesh of her huge hanging breasts in his hands, he whispered in her ear.

   “Time to treat you like the cow you are,” Jeremiah said gleefully, “I’m going to milk you, girl. How does that feel, cunt? I’m going to milk you like a fucking cow. You’re no innocent teenage girl but a fucking cow who’s going to feed me. Now stick out your fat udders so I can milk you!”

   Even through the pain of her rape, Holly heard what Jeremiah spat into her ear. When Greta had shown Holly her lactating breasts, she had known this could happen but hadn’t anticipated the intensity of the humiliation. That this horrible man even touched her breasts was bad but milking her was worse. Squeezing her soft flesh, his chubby fingers closed on her swollen nipples and then, as he squeezed and pulled down, came the distinct sound of liquid hitting the ceramic bowl.

   “Whoosh!” Jeremiah said as two white streams squirted from her tits, “Look at that! I’m milking your big fat udders, Holly! How does it feel, baby, squirting milk like a cow? Moo, whore, moo!”

   Cackling loudly, Jeremiah worked hard to squeeze more milk from her luscious tits. Holly was too busy screaming to moo. As he pulled her breasts down, she felt it slightly uncomfortable but not painful. But the psychological pain was very real, the humiliation worse than she’d ever experienced. Overwhelmed by both the pain of her rape and the shame of being milked, she sobbed loudly between squeals. Jeremiah couldn’t stop smiling, her pathetic cries amusing him as he worked her tits like udders, pulling down on her nipples and watching the streams of milk fall into the bowl until it was almost full, her swollen nipples just inches from the frothing surface. Giving her tits one last squeeze, he reluctantly let them go, a few drops just hanging before falling into the bowl.

   “There we go,” Jeremiah said as he picked up the paddle again, “all done. I bet it tastes fantastic, thank you, Holly. But there are a few drops left, shall we shake them free?”

   He swung the paddle, crashing it into Holly’s midriff to make her toned stomach a red sea of pin-pricks from the embedded wires, knocking the air from her and cutting her scream short. As her tits danced, more drops fell into the bowl. Waiting for her breath to return, he crunched her again, creating an airless scream, then gestured his assistant to speed up. As the cock only moved another  two inches into Holly’s stretched pussy, her tunnel still wasn’t stimulated and its rubbing hurt her dry walls. But that pain was nothing to the agony of its tip slamming into her cervix. Her tormented screams soon had other causes as he began slapping her bruised behind and crashing the paddle onto the underside of her tits, making them jiggle wildly. Assaulted from three directions, squealing like a stuck pig with every blow, thrust or slap, the intensity of her screams grew. And as she screamed and screamed, she hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. But it didn’t.

                                                 -----------------------------------------------------------------

   “Come in!” the voice boomed from behind the door and Detective Daniel Hannemann gingerly  entered, clutching his file tightly. He was sweating nervously for this was a huge moment for him. If all went well his career, his life, could change dramatically.

   “Ah, Hannemann,” the man behind the desk exclaimed, his deep voice seeming to fill up the room, “It’s been a long time. Come in, take a seat.”

   Shuffling forward in his tattered shoes, the greying man sat, relieved to take the weight off his feet. Looking at his Commissioner, he suddenly felt more nervous. Reporting to someone this high up was   surprising but the nature of the case explained it. The imposing man sitting behind the desk still seemed to tower over the detective. His bald head and massive grey moustache made him look like a character from a period drama but Hannemann knew this was deceptive. Rising faster through the ranks than any police officer since Germany’s unification, Rudolf Papen was Munich’s most senior officer despite unconfirmed rumours his father had been a key officer in East Germany’s infamous Stasi. Although his portly physique and seemingly gentle nature suggested otherwise, this man had deep connections. If Hannemann impressed him, it would help his flagging career immensely.

   “Right,” the man said, looking up from the work on his desk, “you called my office in a hurry late last night. And obviously didn’t have time to shave this morning. What is it, Hannemann?”

   “Well, Sir,” the man stammered, rubbing his unshaven face, “it’s about these missing girls.”

   This got the man’s attention as he leant forward, his fingers twirling one end of his great whiskers.

   “The English ones?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Excellent! London are pestering me for any information I can get on this. You have something?”

   “Yes, Sir.”

   “Well, go on then, spit it out!”

   Detective Hannemann stuttered and stammered through his file of evidence. Sitting there silently, his Commissioner only interjected occasionally as the flimsy evidence was reeled off but became   really interested when the detective mentioned the barmaid. His questions beginning in earnest, it took fifteen minutes to explain and when he finished, Rudolf sat back, twirling his whiskers.

   “Well, you’ve certainly done some fine detective work. Fine work indeed. I’ll pass this onto Strauss and his team. But I won’t forget your contribution, Hannemann. Thank you very much.”

   When he gestured the detective to leave, he shuffled out with a sycophantic thanking routine. On closing the door, the bedraggled man breathed in relief. As he walked to his desk, no doubt piled with meaningless cases, he felt his hard work, long nights and dedication had paid off. Tomorrow all would be different. Sitting down, the weight of many years lessened.

   Meanwhile Rudolf Papen sat at his desk.  He hadn’t expected anything new in this case, least of all from some washed up detective. The lead was interesting. Somehow this man had found where the girls had been taken from and who a key potential suspect was. It needed immediate action. Grabbing his phone, he entered a number and waited for answer.

     “Hello, Papen here. There’s been a development; I have to see you right away. Well when’s the earliest? Tomorrow morning it is then. OK.”