THE COLLECTOR

A financially independent man uses his unlimited time and resources to ‘collect’ female trophies.  The culmination of the hunt being a reward onto itself for him, he works alone.  Patient and particular his hunts are always eventually successful.  His prey meeting a stringent standard of being young and attractive, he’s found the ‘exotic dancer’ industry his best hunting grounds.  The seedier strip joints are the safest to stalk even if the ‘trophies’ are like fine jewels, few and far between, the girls easier to just disappear with the least chance of serious investigations.  Once collected, their futures are decided totally at his pleasure.  

Chapter One… A new trophy

       In the ‘gentlemen’s club’ actually more like a stereotypical strip joint, sitting alone back in the dark shadows he watches the girls taking their turns on the mirrored three pole stage, the others between dances at the tables in the fringes of darkness plying their trades.  It’s become just another night, a night not unlike so many others of the past few weeks of being on the prowl in just another third rate strip joint searching for his perfect project.  Getting late, close to closing time, he decides he might as well give it the last few minutes before leaving for the estate, there’ll be another night and another club.

       “Lap dance, Hon?”

       Turning as the fresh scent from the direction of the youthful voice wisps across his shoulder, he’s taken by the sight of the girl just a couple steps behind his chair trying to get his attention. Instinctively he instantly realizes his latest search is all but over.  

       “What’a you say?… Last call… The final song’s before closings in just a couple minutes!”

       Glancing around and toward her tanned face through his custom framed  tinted glasses, a quick scan of her practically naked body, except for her firm, melon sized breasts she’s almost an innocent schoolgirl in nothing more then a slingshot style g-string outfit.  Slowly nodding, he realizes he’s agreeing not only for the dance, but for her to become his next trophy.

       “Yea… Sure.”  He finally answers as she steps next to his left leg, her perfume just barely noticeable, yet masking the all too familiar musky smells of the ‘club’ as she slips from the shadows, her sensuous body with just a hint of a glisten.  Sliding his left arm around her bare waist he asks.  “How ‘bout a private booth… Back in the back?”

       “Sure!... A private dance… Or maybe the last couple?”  Again the sound of her almost forced youthful voice as her hand slips across his knee.

       Obviously wise beyond her years, streetwise that is, he thinks to himself.  Just another trait he looks for, another easy hurdle for him to handle.  “Maybe…  If that body looks as good as I think it does when you’re completely naked.”  He smiles as her right breast jaunts outward just inches from his face, the black thong strap barely covering the flattened silhouette of her nipple, sinking into her oval shaped areola poking out from either side.

       “Completely naked?”  She girlishly answers with a sheepish nod as she glances down between her breasts, her partially exposed nipples.  Slipping a couple fingers beneath the ‘V’ of the bottom of her outfit as her rippling stomach flattens further, pushing her hips forward while exposing just a fraction of an inch of the top of her shaven slit, she slips the material away from her evenly tanned flesh for a brief teasing moment before sliding her fingers back out.  “This costs a little more Hon!... Helps pay for my college.”  She smiles not so girlishly as she grips his left hand, helps guide it down across the curve of her left hip letting the tips of his fingers slip underneath the sling shot strap to rest at the height of the crease separating her shaven pubic mound with her thigh.  “Most lap dances are just topless… Like I said… For me to get naked for you… And anything else you get costs extra, okay?”

       “Of course… Cost isn’t a problem with me… As long I can help you get an education and I get my moneys worth!”  He adds nearly whispering as he casually glances around the room, back toward her big brown eyes, her innocent looking face as he thinks of the education she’ll be receiving alright.  “Like I said… Money’s never a problem… Ever!”

       Eyes momentarily locking, a brief serious stare before a slight giggle, a squeeze of his hand and she turns toward the back room with her latest John.  “Come on Hon… Follow me.”

       Hand in hand, following just behind her as she struts in her six inch black heels, he watches the tips of her dark hair sway across her shoulders as he melds with the patrons, just another Joe in a strip joint on a Saturday night, anybody watching, watching her.  Led through a dark curtain, toward a row of private booths, he steps past her, taking control he leads her to the last closed curtain.  Glancing toward her, he asks.  “This booth… This booth okay?”

       Nodding, glancing back, she smiles.  “Sure Hon… Go on… Have a seat.”

       Sitting on the leather armless chair, its back to the wall, he relaxes as he slips a wad of bills from his shirt pocket along with a couple clear plastic baggies with combined, what appears to be a stupid amount of cocaine inside.  The stack of bills, all hundreds, flicking them back and forth, he slips them back in the same pocket with the pair of baggies.  “Up to you what all you get!”  He nods as he acts unconcerned, even as he scrutinizes her every movement.  “The more you’re willing to do without me having to ask… Well… Like I said… Money’s never a concern with me… Understand?”

       “Yea…  Yea, Hon!”  She answers, not quite with the same girlish voice as her brown eyes widen toward his hand slipping the bills back in the shirt pocket as she reaches up across her arching shoulders, slips the straps one at a time from across her thrust out left breast, then her right.  Sliding both hands down across her hips with the straps stretching between her fingers and thumbs, leaning forward, allowing her bare breasts to sway back and forth just above his shoulders, she slips the thong from between her spread thighs.  Dropping the skimpy material to the floor, arching her back, slipping her hands behind her neck, she spreads her knees as she slips up across his thighs, practically tiptoeing in her stiletto heels.

       Glancing down across her own naked body, glancing back toward his face, again with her girlish voice she asks.  “Well?... Better naked?... Like my bare pussy?”

       Smiling, glancing from her firm melon sized breasts to down between her spread thighs, her smoothly shaven pubic mound glistening, the puffy flaps of her labia almost flat as they spread around her tight vagina, he nods.  “Yea… Yes, just what I look for.”  He answers, again with more meaning then she could ever realize.  “How old are you?”

       “How old you want me to be?”  He hears her tease back as the music in the background begins to play in the booth’s speakers.  Ironic, he thinks to himself as she begins to gently gyrate to the lead in instrumentation to ‘Hotel California’.

       “I can be a schoolgirl… Or I can be a sophisticated lady!”  She consciously smiles as her breasts gently sway, her flat, hollowed stomach erotically rippling in and out as her fingers twist her thick dark hair behind her tilting head.  Sliding her thighs back and forth, her bare slit pressing across the fly of his jeans, she seductively slips the tip of her tongue across the moist lipstick of her seductively parted lips.  “I can be anything you want… Desire me to be!”  She continues, the ‘Eagles’ music in the background.

       “I’m sure you can.”  He nods back as his hands glides across either side of her flexing hips.  The words of the music resonating in his ears… ‘Dark desert highway’… ‘Mirrors on the ceiling’… ‘Champagne on Ice’… ‘Just can’t kill the beast’ playing through the speakers as her body melds with his, her gyrations  even more seductive, erotic as the instrumentation again dominates the song, his thoughts.  “Yes… I’m sure you can!”

       Eyes locking, a tinge of a smile on her face, she softly asks.  “What’cha thinking?... You happy with me Hon?”

       “The song… That’s all.”  He answers as he cups her butt cheeks, slips her a little higher on his lap.  “Brings back memories.”

       “Maybe I can give you some new memories!”   She smiles as she continues to sway, grind across his lap as she reaches down and unzips his trousers.  Glancing in his eyes, momentarily sliding her hips back toward his knees, she glances toward the curtain.  “You have to hold still… Let me do everything… Okay?”

       Feeling her young, firm body, catching the fragrance of her whispery scent, he listens to the words of the song… ‘You can check out anytime you like,  but you just can’t never leave’ as it plays on, again leading to the final instrumentation, to his thoughts of what’s ahead with his new trophy, and sure she’s certainly going to give him some real memories.  “Yea… Yea, okay!”

       The speakers momentarily silent, her body slowing to a stop, she slips a hand inside his jeans, across his more then semi-erect cock.  “Ohhh… You’re really huge, aren’t you?”  She rasps like she’d probably done more then a few times before as she manipulates his manhood out from the open fly, but this time having to actually mean it.  Lifting her breasts with the spread fingers and thumb of her other hand, she presses her fingers inward until her areolas, nipples flattens together while she leans forward, her lips just an inch or so above her breasts.  Slipping her thighs up over the head of his stiffening cock, his face also only inches from her nipples swelling between her fingers, she rocks forward with her hips letting the soft folds of her labia brush across the tip of his flinching crown.  Flicking the tip of her tongue across her right nipple, twisting, pushing her left nipple toward his mouth, she smiles while barely nodding. “Go ahead… Lick… Suck… Whatever you want, Hon while my pussy massages the head of your hard cock”

       The tanned puckering areola, the hardening nub of the nipple brushing across his lower lip, he slips his tongue outward.  While leaning forward, curling the tip of his moist tongue across the nub he gently sucks inward, feels the taut flesh between his parted lips as her body twitches, her hips flexing as the soft tissues of her labia strokes across his pulsing, oozing cock.  Raising a hand and reaching in his pocket, slipping the top of the baggy partially open, he dips his forefinger into the powder, slips his finger between his lips and across her nipple while watching the powder adhering to her moist flesh.

       Slipping his hand across her bare chest, flicking the remainder of the powder across her other taut nipple he again dips into the baggy, brushing his forefinger across the moist folds of her spread vagina.  Rubbing the fingernail full of powder across the head of his shaft then flicking the remainder back and forth across the hood covering her clit, finally her clit itself absorbing powder, he slips his fingers out, massages her sensitive orifice encircling just the tip of his twitching cock.

       Her face close to his shirt pocket, close to the baggies and the thick fold of currency, she’s barely grunting, her body trembling across his as her knees bow around his thighs.  Dipping his finger in the second bag, holding it beneath her nostrils, letting her whiff a strong amount of powder from his fingernail he almost instantly feels her trembling body begin to react to the sensitive manipulation of his fingers between her thighs.

       “Oooohhh!.... Yesssss…. Ohhhh!”  Her husky whimpers, her warm breathe brushes across his ear as she leans her face across her breast toward his neck.  Ohhhh…. Ahhh!”  More whimpers as he slips his finger a knuckle, a couple knuckles deep into her more then moist slit as his cock brushes across her swelling, twitching clit.  “Ohhh… Do… Do you want me Babe?... Do you?”

       Gently nodding, he again senses the irony of her question as he watches the powder laced with GHB glisten in her flailing nostril, again amusing himself with the answer.  “Yes… Yes I want you… I want all of you… Tonight!”

       The second number cackling through the speakers, again her body springs to life. Seductively twisting, arching, squirming across his lap as her head turns, twists with her hair flowing across her shoulders to the rhythm of ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ another of his favorites, and another ironic song as he again grips her thighs, watches the powder dissolving in her glistening nipples as her breasts brush back and forth just in front of his face to the ‘Van Morrison’ classic.

       Glancing up toward her smiling, seemingly carefree face, her lips silently mouthing the song’s words, her hands swaying, playfully pointing toward him, toward herself, animatingly practically describing herself, he feels the stirring deep inside, the hardness between his lap while knowing she’s obviously also feeling his manhood between her teasing legs as the head of his cock disappears just an inch or so up between the moist folds rimming her vagina.

       “This brown eyed girl’s expensive to party with Hon!”  She jokes as the song continues, her erotic movements coinciding with the music.  “But!”  She continues almost singing to the song as she barely squats, lets her tight vagina walls envelope just the throbbing crown of his cock like a warm glove.  “You’ll find out I’m worth it when I’m turned on… If you know what I mean!”

       “Oh…. I know… And you’ll be.”  He grins back, feeling the puffy folds of her labia pressing around the rim of the crown of his cock, teasingly going no deeper as her thighs hyper flexes across his lap.  He knows he’s certain of that more then she is as the second song slows to its end.

       “Tonight… Brown eyed girl… Just you… Me and this!”  He smiles, patting his pocket with one hand while cupping her chin with his other, taking time to stare closer into her dilating eyes as she squats naked over his lap, her turned on body quivering.  Her youthful face almost innocent looking, actually obviously naturally beautiful without the cheapening makeup, her slim buttocks seem almost boyish.  But, gripping and manipulating her substantial breasts, the firm melons are actually natural.  “If you’re ready… Just you and me… The contents of this pocket are all yours… Okay?”

       Nodding, almost a silly grin on her face she glances again toward his pocket as she raises her hips, lets the engorged damp head of his shaft slip out.  “Yea… Yea that’s cool!”  She blurts, feeling good, her breasts quivering as she reflexively slides her butt cheeks back across his knees, grinds her spread thighs back and forth across his lap, relieving the itch, or whatever’s causing the tingling.

       The lights brightening in the room outside the curtain, he grips her thighs, helps her off his lap.  Noticing she’s showing initial slight effects, but not yet enough to cause any suspicion he leans, grabs her thong from the floor while pulling out the bills from his pocket.  Counting out one, three, finally five crisp hundred dollar bills, he hands them to her with the thong as he practically whispers.  “Here… Take this with you… Get dressed and I’ll meet you outside if you want to make some real money… Okay?”

       “Yea.”  She smiles, staring at the bills, again glancing toward his hand going back in his pocket.  “Where… Where at outside?”

       Parting the curtain, glancing into the practically vacant hallway, he answers.  “My car… the white Buick… I’ll be across the lot… We’ll take it to my place.”

       “Okay.”  She starts to answer.  “My car’s just around the building…”

       “Listen… I don’t want anyone knowing… I mean knowing what I’ve got on me, so don’t…”

       Grinning, tapping his pocket, she glances into the hallway while holding her g-string at her side.  “Hey… I don’t want to share any of that stuff…  Think I’m stupid?... My car’s a red Honda… Meet me there in ten minutes so I can put my stuff in it, okay?”

       Slipping the bag open in his pocket, pinching his thumb and finger together, lifting the powder toward her nose, he nods.

       Taking a whiff, shaking her head, she rests her breasts above her left arm as she gives him a peck on the cheek before turning toward the hallway to the dressing room.  “Ten minutes Hon.”

       “My car… Remember, forget your Honda tonight.”  He answers.  I’ll be parked across the lot in front of the door… Just you and me… Got it?”

       Glancing him up and down, nodding with a smile, she walks away, flaunting her naked backside.  “Got it!”

       Leaving the establishment, melding with the few pathetic losers leaving empty handed, he walks in the misty rain to the dark corner of the lot to his black Mercedes with dark tinted glass.  Smiling to himself, scanning the lot and seeing her older, scraped and dented Honda around the corner, he waits for her to come out.

       Watching for her to exit through the intermittent wipers streaking across the windshield, finally seeing her talking to another girl while glancing around the lot, he realizes he’s just moments away from seeing how the night’s going to go.  Lying about his car, just in case she mentioned him to anyone else, watching her step away from the other girl with her sports bag across her shoulder, her hand above her hair as she briskly walks through the drizzle he relaxes, starts his car and slowly drives toward hers.  Stopping just around the corner of the building as she turns the corner, he reaches across, opens the passenger door.

       “Here… Hop in… I’ll park next to your car.”

       “Wha…’  She starts to answer as the door swings close to her bare thigh under her red skirt.

       Hop in… I’ll pull next to your car.”

       Just a tinge of not even concern, or even doubt, just maybe confusion about the car, leaning over and recognizing his face, she slips across the edge of the passenger seat, the canvas bag sliding across her lap.  “I thought you said a white Bui…”

       Slipping the hypodermic syringe against the side of her neck while simultaneously pressing his thumb across its plunger, she practically falls across the console onto his lap as he steps on the gas, the passenger door slamming shut as he circles around the building in the foggy wetness, drives away into the darkness.  Flipping off his glasses, pealing the skin toned latex nose away and slipping the grayish styled wig from his head, he places the collection in the plastic bag beside the console.

End Part 1

       

       

       

       

       

              

         

       

               

THE COLLECTOR

The stripper finds herself in a precarious position as she faces her initiation on the peg.  Bound, pierced and skewered, she’s getting an extended education just as he promised.

Chapter Two

       Forced to precariously balance her taut glistening body on only her left leg, its foot snugly strapped into a red leather ten inch stiletto at least a size too small, her chest visibly pounds with each heartbeat as her terror stricken eyes dart from the full length mirror across from her to around the small chamber.  The nightmarish reflection of the sadistic mounting of her practically unrecognizable body, hair cropped short and bleached, the bright red ‘O’ ring stretching her lips so wide she can’t swallow just adds to the surreal situation she finds herself in as the toe of the stiletto trembles on the top of the narrow tubular peg raising a foot or so above the checker boarded tile floor beneath her.

       Virtually naked, her right knee bowed out in front of her at a forty-five degree angle with her ankle cuffed and raised by a short six inch chain up to a black patent-leather strap secured around her upper thigh, the spiked heel of the matching stiletto on her right foot points straight back just below her rippling buttocks.  Shoulders arched back by closely connected black cuffs affixed to her biceps behind her back, her wrists cuffed and crisscrossed up behind her neck forces her head to tilt slightly back as the pair of silver ‘O’ rings glisten from the nubs of her freshly pierced and swollen nipples, her discolored globes lifting and separating from the tension of thin guide wires stretching apart toward the ceiling from narrow black leather straps snuggly embedded in the flesh of the base of both her breasts.

       A third wire finishes her mounted position.  It tautly stretches out and upward from the silver ‘O’ ring of her pierced clitoris, that matching guide wire rising to the same eyelets supporting the other pair of wires.  Painfully balancing under the tension of the trio of sadistically mounted wires, the pain shifting from one flexing wire to the other, her left leg trembles with fatigue, the calf on the verge of knotting, her thigh muscle rippling as the tip of toe of the stiletto searches for the quarter sized flat area of the peg.

       Her mind clearing, the memory of her abduction faint, the cutting and bleaching of her hair, the piercings all done as she was still basically semiconscious.  Being bound and mounted are the only things she actually vividly recalls.  Glancing toward the mirror, her hair, the mouth gag, the thin wires attached to her pain wrecked naked body as she struggles to balance on the peg on one leg, all must be a nightmare.

       Watching his latest trophy’s almost disoriented suffering on the chamber’s monitor as he relaxes, he leans back and slowly rocks in his leather chair.  Another perfect abduction, the evidence of the crime flawlessly handled down to the forged license plates on the Mercedes in case of any surveillance equipment in the area, even the water based black paint pressure washed from the now silver car that will soon be sold to an overseas wholesaler friend, and just the first of his adrenaline rushes have been enjoyed.

       The girl’s struggling image on his vivid monitor screen, the sound of the audio picking up her slightest whimper, even the ‘twanging’ of the wires as they flex with her swaying body seems to highlight the excitement of the early stages of her abduction.  Then, again, it always does.  The hunt, the initial terror, introducing them to his various imaginative exercises gives him the greatest satisfaction, in that order.

       Still relaxing, glancing at a couple of his other monitors, at the modified images of the other two trophies he still has in his possession, each in a separate, private room, each awaiting a new exercise or modification, each without the slightest hope of deliverance from their predicament.  Glancing from one camera shot to the other, he enjoys the memories of those hunts.  Abducted a few weeks or so apart, he thinks of the enjoyment of the initial first two or three weeks of breaking, molding them.  Then the urge, the beginning of another couple weeks on the prowl for new game as the process seems to continue all over again.

       Doing the abductions himself now instead of hiring them out’s become invigorating.  Now it seems, the urge to hunt again is starting to overshadow the enjoyment of his efforts of training them to submit, to accept their fates.  Feisty, strong willed women that take time to break are always the most pleasurable to handle.  But, they always do and boredom sets in.  Overseas brothels are full of them, of his searches.

       Glancing back to his latest project, the tears are noticeable tracing down her cheeks.  Mixing with the drool of saliva dripping between her bound, cone shaped breasts lifting, separating apart as the guide wires stretch upward, the incandescent ceiling lights cast shadows across the under globes of both breasts even as the nipple rings, larger in circumference then her dark areolas, sparkle.

       Glancing at the clock, quickly figuring she’s already been mounted in that pose for over an hour, he buzzes the intercom.  “Come in here… I need you for a moment.”

       His office door opening, his assistant steps in.  Early thirtyish, long dark hair drawn back flowing freely behind her shoulders from a tie fastened high behind her head, she’s more then attractive, a lot more.  A one piece black latex dress, low cut, high hemmed with slits up both thighs, her obviously augmented body oozes sensuality as she approaches in her four inch black heels.

       “Yes Sir?”

       Nodding toward the oversize monitor, toward his latest abducted, he slides a drawer open in his desk.  Slipping a package out, laying it across the desktop, he unwraps its contents.  “Lets see… Three… Five… Six.”  Sliding them together, handing them to the assistant, he nods again toward the monitor.  “Three through each breast… All the way… And… Nice and deep… You want to do it this time??”

       “Oh… Yes Sir!  Reaching out, gripping, handling the half dozen skewers, more like small arrows at least ten inches in length, she nods with just a hint of a grin on her face.  “Symmetrical I take it… Spread ‘em out?”

       “Yea… Evenly spaced!”  He answers.  “And… Don’t even say a word to her… Just step in and start working those tits… Then leave her.”

       Glancing toward the monitor, back toward him, she nods with a hint of a gleam in her eye as she tries to hold back a smile, keep a stern look.  “Anything else Sir?... That it for now?”

       “No… That’s all… Remember, let her scream… Whatever.”  He adds.  “Then leave her when you’re done.”

       “Thank you Sir!... Thank you!”

       Leaning back in his chair, focusing on the screen, he hears his door shut as he’s left alone.  Having her has been a plus he thinks to himself, of the couple years now she’s been his perfect submissive, even as he’s begun her training as a Dominatrix.  Actually, she’s been the only one so far worth keeping.

       Glancing toward the corner, toward the bar, he decides he has time to mix a beverage.  Stepping toward the bar, a little ice, a shot or two of vodka, a swirl of orange juice and he makes his way back to his chair.  Relaxing back, taking a sip, he catches a glimpse of the door opening on the monitor.  The image of his assistant stepping around his trophy, positioning herself directly in front of her, holding the skewers in a tight bundle in her left hand is crystal clear on his HD monitor.  Leaning forward in his chair he concentrates on the expression of the bound girl.

       Wide eyed, grunting through her ‘O’ ring, the young stripper stares pleadingly toward the dark haired, black dressed woman facing her.  Not able to help from seeing the glistening, hideously long needles in the woman’s hand, the evil smirk on her face, the slow deliberate separating of a single needle into her other hand, she holds her breath, her naked body trembling as the tip of the lone needle’s dragged across the outer curve of her bound right globe.

       The fresh piercing already throbbing through the bud of her nipple as the heavy ‘O’ ring dangles across her areola, the needle scrapes across her outer globe.   The positioning of the razor sharp tip pointed directly inward and held still pricks but not yet pierces the swollen tit flesh sending shivers up her spine as her supporting knee trembles, her naked body swaying from the flexing guide wires as they stretch at her breasts and clit.

       Muttering through the saliva drooling from the shimmering red oval of the ‘O’ ring, unable to jerk or even twist away as her toe quivers across the minuscule flat surface of the peg, she can’t fathom the cruelness of the dark haired woman, the lack of expression on her face as she grips her fingers around the bulging globe, sadistically forces the needle inward.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  The piercing, the plunging, the ramming of the skewer into the depth of her tit flesh, the continuous jab, thrusting of the razor sharp steel probing painfully deeper from the outer curve of her swollen breast until the outline of the tip probes against flesh of the inner curve of the tortured globe.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  Completing the forceful jab, the tip of the skewer probes, pierces through, the tinged needle completing its journey, the dripping tip exposed across her crimson tinged sternum.

       Terrified, she frantically watches the dark haired woman step to the other side of her trembling body, another single skewer in her hand as her bound left breast is gripped, the tip of the needle probing, jamming into that tit flesh.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!”  The stripper reflexively shuddering as she screams, her toe twists with her leg curling across the slick surface of the peg as the searing pain resonates through her heaving chest.  That nipple ring jerking, smacking across her aching areola, the needle continues its constant pressure until it too audibly ‘plops’ through the other side.  “Aaaggghhh!!”  Another muffed screech as the guide wires tautly jerk at the leather bindings buried in the discolored bases of her stretching breasts.

       His drink down to bare ice, casually twisting in his chair, stepping toward the bar he listens to the sounds from the monitor of the ongoing piercings as he pours another drink, another heavy on the vodka screwdriver.  Taking a sip as he stirs the ice with his finger, he hears more screeches, inaudible pleadings from the stripper girl as he steps back toward his desk.  Smiling to himself as he sits and leans back, he thinks to himself how much more he used to enjoy just what his assistant’s doing now.  Now, letting this beautiful woman do some of the preliminaries on his trophies is just as satisfying, especially knowing she’ll show her appreciation to him as soon as she’s done.

       Again focusing in on the screen, having already heard a number of pitiful screams and groans as he mixed his drink, meaning the skewers should be pretty well impaled in those youthful melons, he catches just the end of the sixth and last one being centered and glided through the bare breasts.  Watching the girl’s body shimmering, perspiration beading, tracing across her naked flesh as her chest and ribcage is covered with the slightest tinge of crimson, he’s satisfied with the perfectly placed skewers forming a six pointed circle around both breasts.

       Watching his assistant do as directed, leave the girl alone, never a word spoken, he’s also impressed with his trophy.  Most abducted girls can’t handle that regiment without slipping, being hung by their naked breasts while being skewered.  Grinning, nodding toward the monitor, toward the terrorized girl, he raises his glass, toasts her before chugging the remainder of the vodka, chewing the final pieces of ice while casually setting the empty glass on the desk.

       Her flattened stomach flexing, her leg muscles rippling as she balances on the peg by swaying back and forth from one stretching breast to another as the skewers glisten under the lighting, the pain of the knotting muscles in her leg are actually more of a concern then the needles piercing her breasts.  Struggling to remain on the peg, the leather bindings buried deep in her tit flesh, her scrambled thoughts hardly registers as she borders on slipping into midair.  Swaying, the wires tugging at he tortured breasts, her clit stretching, twisting from between her thighs, the tears mix with her saliva, drools off her chin to mingle with the crimson splotches across her sternum as her foot slips from the peg.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  The gurgling scream’s barely audible as her foot struggles to find the peg.  Her bent leg jerking, her free leg flailing, she struggles as the guide wires stretch from the ceiling.  Each jerking motion jolts through her breasts, clit as she chokes on her saliva, chews at the ‘O’ ring.  Exhausted, struggling less, the pain seems more bearable as slumping back, closing her eyes, she feels her tortured body reflexively twitching.

       Slowly twisting as the pain envelopes her naked body, the three wires tautly sway as her head slopes back, her bulging, discolored breasts oozing trickles of blood from the skewers as her left leg hangs down, twitches.  Her thighs arching outward with the taut wire tugging at the clit ring, she boarders on unconsciousness, a respite of relief.

End Part 2

     

       

 

       

         

         

          

          

       

                

THE COLLECTOR

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

Chapter Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

       “Face me… Look at me!”

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

       “Open your mouth… Wide.”

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

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

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

End Part 3                

             

       

          

       

           

        

         

THE COLLECTOR

One of the three girls’ is auctioned after they’re displayed for the guests.

Chapter Four

       Another couple drinks, stripping naked in the connecting master suite next to his office and stepping into the marble Roman tile oversized stall to enjoy a leisurely shower, he lets the hot steamy water from the multiple fixtures cascade across his bare flesh as the steam frosts the fixtures, mirrors around the walls.  Eyes closed, soaking for a few long minutes, hands on his head and relaxing as he faces toward one of the higher fixtures set on random pulse cycles he feels the sensation of the soft sponging of soap across his buttocks, behind his thighs, around and across his navel, down between his legs to across his scrotum and finally wrapped around his relaxed cock like a hotly drenched glove.

       The sponge squeezing, stroking back and forth’s instantly stimulating, followed by fingers slipping between his butt cheeks, sliding around his taut sack, gently melding, stroking as his responding shaft swells, hardens in the manipulating soap drenched coral sponge slowly sliding outwards, stretching at his foreskin, slipping back pubic mound allowing the pulsing water to cascade across his hard, erect shaft, the swollen crown reddened from the steaming water.  His hips barely swaying with the gentle nudges of the fingers pressing, tugging between his thighs, he lets his arm slip slowly downwards to his side, his hand reaching back and resting on the top of his assistant’s soaking hair as she kneels behind him, pressing her face against the hollow of his butt cheeks.

       Feeling her tongue slowly glide across his bare flesh, tracing upward toward the small of his back only to retreat along the lines of his buttocks, all the way down between his thighs, to lick at his soaking scrotum, he follows the leads of her hands while gently swaying back and forth.  His cock swelling, throbbing as the strokes become firmer, the soapy sponge squeezing and twisting as he’s stroked back and forth simultaneously, his knees and thighs barely tremble as he feels the sponge stiffening even tighter, her fingers tugging lightly at his scrotum.

       “Save it… For my mouth… Sir!”

       The faint voice of his assistant above the cascading shower as her fingers rigidly squeezes, he feels the movement of her naked body across the soaking tile as she twists herself slowly around him on her knees while she gently rotates his body toward hers with her free hand.  Her naked breasts pressing, gliding across his thighs, she guides him directly in front of her as she slips her drenched lips around his engorged crown, her tongue lapping at the soapy water of the shower, the soap filled sponge still encompassing his thickening shaft.  Feeling her wet thumb slip between his butt cheeks, slide across the rim of his rectum, he reflexively tiptoes as she gently probes her soaked thumbnail, prying, slipping inward as she picks up stroking his throbbing cock, sucking it into her mouth, deeply.

       Head still back, eyes tightly closed; gripping her drenched hair with both hands he thrusts his hips outward, drawing her face against his pubic mound.  Feeling the head of his shaft sliding deeply into her throat, his pulsing cock pressing across her tongue, her breasts jerk, grind against the fronts of his thighs.  The reflexive spasms of her naked body pressing against his legs, her fingers gripping into his butt cheeks, hearing her forced grunts, her gulping of air mixed with the shower’s water, he holds tightly on as he forces every inch of his cock completely into her mouth, feels the mounting suction of her mouth, throat.  Hips flexing, his fists jerking at her hair as his shaft pulses, the contractions, the explosion of his sperm squirting past her mouth, down her throat, he grunts as she gags, he twists as she jerks, the shower continuing to pulse jets of hot steamy water across their naked, trembling bodies.

       Feeling her fingers tensing, her breasts trembling against the fronts of his thighs, he bows his hips backward, feels the suction as he hears the ‘whoosh’ of her breath while she frantically inhales, his shaft slipping from her stretched lips.  Reaching up, turning off the shower heads with one hand, lifting her up by a bare breast with the other, he smiles into her eyes, kisses her on the lips.  Turning his back to her without a word, slipping an oversized white terrycloth towel from the rack and handing it back to her, he raises his arms.

       Wiped across his back, down between his thighs, around his shoulders and across his chest with the towel, he stands motionless as she gently dries off his warm practically steaming nude body.  Turning around, facing her with his arms still raised, she kneels, swipes the towel back and forth across his thighs, stomach, his manhood.  Gripping his shaft with one hand, wiping across it, his scrotum with the towel, she again stands, drapes the damp cloth around the front of herself, both hands crossing across her wet breasts.

       “Thank you… Sir.”  A smile as she lowers her head to turn and leave the shower.  “Time for me to get ready… To greet the guests shortly… Less then an hour.”

       Watching her walking away, her backside exposed, he smiles as her buttocks naturally sways below her slender waist, the outer curves of her breasts pressed across her chest exposed from under her arms as her wet hair clings to her shoulders.  Refreshed himself, stepping from the shower stall he walks naked to the closet to pick his wardrobe for the evening.

       A few minutes, a half hour, give or take passes.  The guests begin to arrive, close friends and bidders alike.  The property for the auction is in place, prominently positioned in the expansive foyer.  Displayed in front of the full length mirror in the bondage sleeved black latex suit, every angle of her enhanced body’s readily viewable, assessable while her mind’s in turmoil.

       Mounted firmly in place, realizing she’s facing a session of agonizing treatment as all three of her orifices are tightly stretched, stuffed, she feels the cool air across her nose and cheeks, bare breasts, her buttocks and vagina, the only exposed flesh from her form fitting latex and nylon outfit.  Existing in the dark silent world of the stretching bondage hood, her eyes and ears pressed shut with the thick inner padding, her dulled thoughts from the previously induced drugs keeps her in a mental funk, reality and fantasy intertwined.

       The thick, solid shafts between her spread thighs impaling her from both front and rear seem to stretch inside her to her womb, probing, stretching her entrails until she seems ready to burst.  The mouth gag, actually a tube, stretches her lips, presses across her tongue and the roof of her mouth making it practically impossible to swallow.  Having been forced to wear the outfit before, she can only apprehensively wait, anticipating the attention her clitoris and especially her enormous augmented breasts are going to be subjected too as the chilled rings stretch at her trio of piercings while the corset sadistically cinches her waist.  Beginning to feel the initial touches, probing of her bare flesh she can only speculate when and where the real pains going to be administered.

        The assistant, now erotically dressed in her revealing form fitting black dress stands next to the mounted girl to great the arriving parties.  Her makeup impeccable, her dark hair swirls, flowing down behind her shoulders from a tie high on the back of her head.  The latex dress cut low enough across her substantial breasts to expose just the upper curves of her dark areolas, the hem just high enough to expose the soft folds of her shaved labia between the slit of her athletic thighs matches the theme of the latex bound girl.

       Greeting the guests, eagerly explaining the way the girl’s mounted, showcasing the augmentations, the modifications to the mounted body as she holds the control in one hand that operates the phalluses, a black riding crop in the other, she appears to obviously enjoy giving the presentations.  Slipping the tip of the crop through the nipple rings, tapping the firm almost solid globes with the leather, flicking the clit ring as she operates the pumping phallus, she begins to allow the guests to touch, feel, whatever they like to the virtually immobile mannequin.

       An occasional moan emitting from the mouth tube, a twitch of her hips, a subtle jerk of her breasts as her rigid body is tormented is all the mounted girl can muster as the guests are guided by the assistant.  Instructed on the use of the pulsing phallus’ inserting and retracting in six to eight inch strokes in both rectum and vagina, at times simultaneously, other times singularly, the close attention to the pair of melon sized breasts, the almost hollow sound of the crop slapping across the jaunting globes and her mind screams in the darkness of the mask. 

       Fifteen, twenty minutes pass as the dozen or so guests make their appearances.  As the last arrives, shown the soon to be auctioned merchandise, allowed a couple of abuses of the exposed naked flesh, she leads them down the hallway, past the glass partition separating the girl balancing on the peg.  The group seems just as eager to take in her struggles, admire the sadistic treatment of her perspiration drenched naked body as they watch her frantically maintaining her one legged stance on the peg, seemingly on the verge of slipping, the guide wires tensing, swaying from her multi-pierced breasts and her clitoris as her naked body arches, bows, twists.

       Inside the room, gazing toward the mirror, noticing the mounting group of people glaring at her through the glass, her heart pounds in her chest, her body wracked with numerous pains, some harsher then others as she physically and mentally struggles with her nightmarish ordeal.  The throbbing of both breasts from the multiple skewers, the knotting of her trembling calf and thigh as her foot swells in the stiletto tiptoeing on the peg overwhelms her senses as she pleadingly stares at the numerous images of the onlookers reflecting back from the mirror, their stares becoming obviously sadistic smirks.

       Confused, terrified, realizing she’s being displayed for their obvious pleasure, that the people watching are enjoying her agony, at the thought that her struggles, her humiliation is being watched by a group of strangers, her stomach knots at the realization that she’s being displayed to a group of sadists.

       Stepping into the room, riding crop in hand, the assistant flicks a wire above one breast, the other as she forces the girl to struggle on the peg.  Sliding the crop downward, snagging the wire affixed to the clit ring, she flicks the crop and tugs.  The girl’s naked body arching, her clit stretching, the group on the other side of glass partition collect for a closer view as the girl barely maintains her connection to the peg.  Whimpering, grunting as her clit’s tugged, tears streak from her eyes as the assistant’s eyes gleam.

       Slipping the crop from the wire, a backhand followed by a quick forehand leads to a pair of resounding echoes in the room as thin red welts raise across the outer curves of the girl’s bulging globes between the skewers and the embedded straps.  Stepping away as she nods toward the glass partition, the assistant leaves the girl to her struggles.  

       Leading the guests past the glass divider to the conference room, she seats them around the boardroom type table.   Dark shellacked mahogany, the chairs black leather; the guests line either side as the head of the table remains vacant, she seating herself at the opposite end.

       A couple minutes pass.  The double door behind the head of the table opening, he makes his presence.  Slipping into the empty chair, glancing around the table, mostly men, a handful of women, he nods toward his assistant, back toward the double door.  Leaving the seat and stepping past the guests she disappears from sight behind the doors, momentarily.

       Re-entering with leash in hand, the assistant leads the dripping wet girl by her chocker collar into the room.  Wrists shackled to the back of her collar, her augmented body nakedly displayed for all to see, her eyes remain downward as she’s led past the table to the other end of the room.  Her modified body eerily comparable to the girl mounted in black latex, she’s directed to kneel on the small podium against the book shelf.

       Knees spread; shoulders arched back with her huge breasts thrust outward, the large ‘O’ rings hang stiffly from the nubs of her thick nipples, just slightly in front of her dark tan areolas. The clit ring matching the pair above rests above the dark, parted slit of her vagina between her spread thighs.  Her wet hair clinging to her forehead, across her cuffed wrists, she continues to stare toward the floor as her flat stomach barely flexes with each breath, her unnaturally narrow waist appearing even slimmer beneath her melon sized breasts standing firm, almost solid on her chest.

       Glancing past the guests toward his assistant, and then nodding toward the girl he speaks.  “She’s twenty two years of age… She’s been a guest here for just under two months.”  Glancing around at the guests, most glancing toward the girl, he continues.  “Breasts obviously augmented…. Waist cinched… The piercings… Her modifications so far hardly extreme… I’ve decided she’s the one to be auctioned this evening.

       The murmurs obvious, the reactions not unwelcome, he stands and walks toward the girl.  Stepping between the assistant and the podium, he reaches out and cups the bottom of the girl’s right breast.  Flicking the ‘O’ ring, slipping his hand beneath her chin, he turns toward the group.  “She’s been toilet trained… Swallows… All her orifices stretched.”  Lifting her face upwards, her eyes darting toward his as her hands clinch into fists behind her head; he glances into her dark eyes.  “Haven’t you?”  Smiling at her spiteful stare, he turns back toward the table.  “Whoever purchases her this evening has the option of listing any other modifications desired and I, of course will be more then willing to perform the surgery myself… For a price of course.”

       Glancing toward his assistant, again just a silent nod and she reaches behind her back, unsnaps the dress and lets it drop to the floor.  Standing totally naked except for her black heels, she spreads her legs, raises her arms above her head into a spread-eagled position.  Slowly turning, displaying her own surgical modifications on her incredibly firm, just on the acceptable side of an almost Barbie doll physic, she completes a full rotation before lowering her hands behind her neck while maintaining her pose.

       “As you can see.”  He adds as he cups his assistant’s left breast.  “My work’s impeccable and doesn’t have to be to the extreme… On the other hand.”  Again also cupping the kneeling girl’s right breast, he continues.  “I can form breasts as large as your imagination takes you… I can narrow waists just as extreme.”  Releasing both breasts he steps toward the end of the table, slowly glances from one guest to another.  “Head to toe, anything in between… Any modification is possible… For a price, like I said… Now folks after the auction, you’re all invited for some serious entertainment with the other pair of girls you’ve already been acquainted with, now where shall we start the bidding for this girl behind me on the podium?” 

End Part 4                                   

       

       

                  

THE COLLECTOR

The assistant auditions and finds her first strip club job.

Chapter Five

       The transaction completed, now a trophy to replace, with a great deal of thought he struggles with the decision to allow his assistant to be involved in the hunts.  Realizing the urge for the abduction itself and no more then the initial first couple of days of administering shear terror to the abductees now keeps his adrenaline flowing, having a substantial well heeled international cliental willing to purchase his ‘stock’ as soon as he can replenish it, it’s time to step up the pace.  Still, even with vigilance and restraint a top priority, a weekend should be all that’s necessary for successful hunts, especially with a beautiful woman as an accomplice and bait.  The decision’s made.

       Even with her on the plus side of thirty, but just barely, he’s more then certain his assistant’s augmented looks could rival any model, any exotic dancer, even of the upper scale clubs as she could easily pass for ten years younger.  Getting her a job using an alias, mingling with other exotic dancers, it could even be a treat watching her dance, servicing clients during the quest.

       A few nights of regimented training for her, obviously well versed himself after so many trips to so many clubs in his singular quests, he’s comfortable with her progress, confidence.  The time’s come to begin searching out her first club, her first exotic dancer gig.  Figuring a hundred mile radius, nothing under fifty, he prints out a list, decides which to survey first.  Disguises, fake license plates, another car and he initiates yet another quest, but still alone to start with.

       Stepping up the scale of clubs to frequent, but still more of the ‘college’ type girls earning their way through school as they so often seem to point out, he soon realizes the criteria’s now perfect, at least as perfect as could be hoped for.  Plenty of girls, larger clubs, with the right coaching and his assistant’s looks easily altered when necessary with his surgical skills, the hunting grounds are ripe for the quest.  Just a couple days pass and it’s time to include his assistant.

       The first of the week, driving her to her first of three interviews for the day, a wire and surveillance camera in her purse, he waits in the inconspicuous panel van with the monitor while watching, listening as she enters the club to secure the job.

       A knee length tan trench coat, four inch black heels, black rimmed glasses and hair in a tight bun she struts through the door minutes ahead of her scheduled interview.  Face perfectly made up but looking more like a librarian, stepping into the lobby of the club, she’s confronted by a burly, Italian looking bouncer sitting on a stool finishing a sandwich and soda.  Almost a double take as she steps closer to him, he asks in a thick accent.  “Yeh… Help you lady?”

       “Yes… I’m here to interview.”

       “Really?”  Glancing her over, the bun, glasses and trench coat, he smiles while turning, shaking his head slowly back and forth.  “This way.”  He directs, the sound of his labored breath between each halting word.

       Leading her past the darkened mirrored stages, toward the back of the club behind one of the bars, he taps on the door.  “Boss… An interview.”  Swinging the door open, stepping aside, he swipes his forearm across his mouth as she steps inside the room.  Grabbing the door knob, he steps back, shuts the door behind her.

       Glancing back at the door, over toward the man leaning on his desk crossing his arms as he’s slowly shaking his head back and forth, she stares him straight in the eyes.  “I’m here for the interview.”

       “That right?... You certainly look dressed for the part, don’t you?”  He continues to nod, the posters of mostly nude women filling the wall behind his cluttered desk, the scribbled appointment calendar under another stack of shuffled papers, photos. “Well, what’s your credentials?”

       Stepping toward him, setting her purse on the floor while unbuttoning and dropping her coat beside it, her glistening and naked body shimmers under the incandescent lighting as her hands rise above her head as she looks him straight in the eyes.  “This!”  Flipping her hair from the bun, slipping the glasses off, also dropping them to the floor she keeps her hands behind her neck while interlocking her fingers.  Pushing her melon sized breasts outward, the gold nipple rings shimmering, she slips to her knees in front of him, stares up into his widening eyes as she flips her tongue across the instantly hardening bulge in the crotch of his trousers.  “And this!”

       An almost evil smile across her face, leaning back, slightly shaking her firm globes back and forth above her flexing, hollowed stomach, she spreads her knees a little further apart,  the moist flesh of her labia folds glistening from the reflection of the gold clit ring.  Leaning forward, unzipping his zipper with her teeth, she again glances up toward his shocked, but obviously more then pleased expression.  Pressing her face between his thighs, slipping the head of his swollen shaft between her lips, tugging back, she feels the thick, hot meat entering her mouth as his arms uncross, his hands reaching down, gripping either side of the desk beside him.

       Sucking in, feeling the swelling crown glide across her tongue, spreading her lips wider as she swallows, she slides her face forward, presses it against his trousers as his shaft disappears completely in her mouth.  Completing her ‘deep throat’ she slowly tilts her head back, releases his shaft with the suction of breath audible as his throbbing cock flips free.  Leaning back, hands still behind her flowing hair she again stares into his eyes as she raises, stands with feet apart.  Slowly turning, the dimples above her butt cheeks glisten as the clit ring jiggles down between the puffy folds of her labia exposed between the slit between her thighs.

       “Hold still!... Now don’t move!”  Thrusting her buttocks out, feeling his pulsing shaft springing up between her thighs, slowly lowering herself, she slightly wiggles while feeling her shaven vulva slip back and forth across his crown.  Sliding gently downward, the soft flaps of her labia slipping around the head of his shaft, her thighs flex as she feels his cock pressing inward.  Two three inches deep, she flexes her abdomen, concentrates on tightening her vagina while squeezing her thighs.  Slowly rotating her hips, just a couple inches of his instantly pulsing manhood inside her, she gently gyrates, tugging, twisting the head of his cock.   Feeling his hands circling her body beneath her spread arms, his fingers slipping across her bare breasts, she pushes her chest outward letting her firm tit flesh sink into his palms, press against the nipple rings.  Glancing down at his hands, her flattening breasts squeezing between his fingertips, she quickly stands upright, slipping his hands from her breasts with hers as his cock flicks across her butt cheek. Quickly stepping away a couple steps, she turns with a smirk.

       “I told you not to move… Didn’t I?”  She scolds.  “Anyway… That’s my credentials… When do I start?”

       Watching the monitor from the van, thinking how the look on the guy’s face is priceless, he slowly shakes his head back and forth with the image of her reaching down and retrieving her coat, slipping it on.  Picking up her glasses, purse, he hears her as she again asks.  “Friday be good?”  Her breasts swaying between the parted coat, her nipple rings glisten, as does the clit ring.  “What time should I be here?”

       “Six… six o’clock… Be here at six!”  Zipping his trousers as he stands, obviously somewhat flustered, even with his experiences with the business, he almost stutters.  “What… What’s your name?”

       “I’ll tell you Friday.”  She smiles as she buttons her coat, steps toward the door.  Turning the knob, looking back toward him as she adds.  “If I decide to take the job, you’ll see me then.”

       Slipping her glasses on while stepping past the bouncer with a slight smirk, she walks briskly into the lot and around the corner, slides into the van’s open passenger door.  “Hope I did good Sir!”  She smiles as she leans toward him as she shuts the door.  “What do you want me to do at the next interview?”

       Driving away, glancing toward her while turning onto the street in the direction of the next ‘gentlemen’s’ club, he smiles as he looks at the list.  “Looks here like you’ve got a lady to interview with at the next club.”  Patting her on her thigh with just the slightest of a chuckle, he adds.  “Looks like you’re going to be eating some pussy.”

       A nod, a quick glance out the passenger door’s glass and she responds.  “Won’t be the first time, will it… Sir?”

       “I’m sure it won’t be the last either.”  He answers as he glances at the map quest, gets his bearings as he drives through the intersection to the expressway’s on ramp.  “Ten… fifteen minutes and we’ll be there.”

       The minutes, the miles pass until they reach the second establishment.  A few minutes inside, more video and sound recorded in the van and he was right.  Immediately getting naked, aggressively going down on the woman who’s not only the manager but owner, the assistant leaves her somewhat befuddled but definitely offering a job, and a lot more.  A good laugh, a ‘that a girl’ by him and another short drive to the third interview.  This one with just a simple strip down, no blowjob or teasing sex, just her naked body and some practiced  provocative movements on the dance pole to a few moments of a stereotypical strippers ensemble and she’s still eagerly offered a job by that manager.  Getting back in the van, the interviews are over.  Leaning over, giving a peek on the cheek, she smiles.

       “I can’t wait to get back to the estate… Sir!”

       Glancing at her, pulling out of the lot to head toward the expressway, he grins.  “Why?”

       “I hope you’ll fuck my brains out…. I mean… Damn!... After all this, I’m horny as Hell!”

       A quick chuckle, a hand on her thigh, he glances both ways as he stops, makes his right hand turn on the red light, the expressway in sight.  “You’ve earned it… I might just wear you out when we get back.”  He adds as he slides his finger up her skirt, into her moist, warm slit, raises and slips his fingertip between her lips, across her tongue.

       “Oh!”  She moans, sucking on his finger as he slides it back out.  “Yes Sir… Thank you Sir!”

       Driving back to the estate, the decision’s made, the third and final club Friday at eight o’clock sharp as they discuss the forthcoming schedule including the pair of trophies still back at the estate.  They’ve already been kept isolated in separate cells for the time being.  Both having been freed of their torturous bindings from the auction, the one remains on her regular supply of sedations and allowed just a stiff bare mattress and a slop bucket, naked of course with only a chocker collar affixed to an eyelet in the wall.  She’s also received a substantial bid by the runner up of the auction.  A huge offer by a middle easterner that’s eager to showcase her to his friends, to mount her in her full regalia in the middle of his harem as an ominous warning to any malcontents.

       The other one that was abducted just a few days ago also has similar accommodations, also loosely chained to the wall with a chocker collar and has been receiving a steady amount of HGB in her meals, otherwise un-medicated to leave her mind clear to deal with the realities of her initial indoctrination.  Her agonizing response to her treatment already has been more then satisfactory and the initial body modifications for her can wait a few more days.

       It’s decided they’ll be left alone, isolated in the pitch dark for a few days with no sense of time, but no other punishment, just whatever thoughts that run through their minds.  Once the quest gets in full swing there’ll be plenty of time to return attention to them both.  For now, the quest is about to begin.   

       An afternoon, an evening of raw sex, he again realizes how perfect his assistant must be, how eager she is to obey him.  If he could ever actually care for someone, this would most probably be that woman.  But then again, not ever having that emotion, what the Hell, she’s still a Hell of a fuck as long as she continues to please him.

       Practice, provocative dance movements, her diligence is demanded for the next few days.  Hours of stripping, dancing, even rehearsing lap dances, of course across his lap, takes in long hours of the afternoons sandwiched between even more strenuous workouts in the gym room in the mornings and evenings.  The days pass until finally, late Friday afternoon and she’s ready.  Her body taut, rippled, yet incredibly feminine, she stands in front of him in only a pair of six inch black stilettos.

       Perfectly tanned, makeup impeccable, her hair drawn severely back into a single braided ponytail and she raises her arms above her head, lets him slip a shear low cut jet black mini dress over her naked body.  Jewelry removed from her body pierces, the clinging material smoothly accentuates her every curve, from her hardened nipples standing apart on her global breasts to the gentle slope of her pubic mound, barely concealed above the high hem.

       Glancing into his eyes, a shy smile as she lowers hers, she whispers.  “Well… Sir… What do you think?”

       Glancing down toward her arched torso, her incredible body appearing practically naked under the sizzling shear one piece, he nods.  “Magnificent!”

       The obvious gleam in her eyes, the look of satisfaction on her face, just a word like that gives her an incredible high.  Her Master’s pleased with her.  “Thank you… Thank you Sir!”

       Cupping her hand around the car key, closing her fingers around it, he smiles as he softly brushes a strand of hair from her forehead.  “This is for you… A present for your fortitude, behavior.

       Glancing down at her opening fingers, at the key, she glances back at him.  “A car?”

       “The black SL660 Mercedes… It’s yours.”  He smiles.

       “Get out of town!... I mean… I… I!”  Stuttering, staring at the keys, at him, she shakes her head, a tear in her eye.

       “Damn… I thought you’d be happy… You need a car to drive… I thought you’d like it.”  He playfully scolds.

       “Oh… My… God!”  She grins, her body practically trembling.  A… A Mercedes… My Mercedes?”

       “Your Mercedes, yes.”

       “Oh!… Thank you Sir… Thank you… Thank you… Thank you!”

       Smiling, a hug and he glances toward the clock.   “Time for you to get to work… I’ll see you later this evening.  Cupping her chin, glancing into her sparkling eyes, he adds.  “Remember, I’m just a John to you tonight… No one’s to get the slightest idea about us… Understand?

       “Yes… Yes Sir!”  She grins.  “But you’re going to get one Hell of a lap dance!”

       “Right, now get to work!... See you at around eleven.”

       A short nap in line, drinks are out.  Total concentration when on the prowl, even a practice run like this.  Being her first club, she doesn’t realize he has no intention of abducting a girl from there.  When the time comes, she certainly won’t be driving a new hundred K car to work.  She also won’t be so recognizable.  Tonight’s just a practice run to see how she can handle her part in the grand scheme of things, without her knowing any better.  Better yet, the club owned by an acquaintance, he’s going to have a small group of his friends showing up later and unknown to her she’s going to be facing a long evening with them.

       Parking in the lot, entering the club from a side entrance, she’s greeted by a couple bouncers, both burley, both rather intimidating.  Expecting her, they direct her to the manager’s quarters, the owner also present for her initiation into the exotic dancer world.

       A tap on the door, opening and pointing her in, they just as quickly shut it behind her.  Glancing at the two men at the desk, one on either side, she feels her heart beating just a little harder as they both gaze toward her, silently.  The man facing her from behind the desk thirtyish, black goatee, slicked back black hair, the other more mature, grayish hair, well groomed with a tan complexion.

       “Raven!”

       Glancing toward the older gentleman, taken by the single word spoken by him as he stares toward her, scanning her up and down, the drawl almost as an overstated line from an untalented actor, she glances toward the manager behind the desk, the man she auditioned for earlier in the week.

       “Raven… Yes I think… Raven will do.”  Again, even in a louder and more pronounced voice, he raises his right arm, glances toward the man behind the desk, back toward her, arm still raised, obviously a tad tipsy.

       Still taken by the man, his voice, what he means, she looks directly toward the manager, a fixed smile on her face.  “I… I’m here for the first night.  I…”

       Smiling himself, glancing back toward her while standing, he speaks.  “Of course… I know that.”  Glancing toward his friend, he adds.  “That… That’s going to be your stage name… Raven.”  Glancing down toward the man still seated, he adds.  “He’s just given you your stage name, the least you can do is strip for him don’t you think, Hon?”

       “Oh…  Strip for him?... Here?... Now?”  She answers as she again glances toward the older man leering back toward her.  “Sure… No problem.”

       “By the way… He’s the owner of the club!... Now, show him what you’ve got before you get started tonight!”

       Again listening to the manager while giving a long glance at the smirk on the other man’s face, she figures what the Hell, reaches for the hem of her black dress, begins dragging it up over her thighs, hips, across her stomach, up over her thrust out breasts.  Tugging it up over her neck and face, finally up across her arms, she drops it to the floor, standing naked except for her stilettos.

       “Come over here, Hon.”   Again the older man speaking, motioning her toward him with a backhanded flip.  “Come over hear, let me feel those tits!... Push ‘em out here for me!”

       Stepping toward him, her stilettos clicking across the hardwood floor, stopping at the side of his chair, she begins to lower her arms toward her sides while sliding her hands down over her naked breasts.  Stopping and facing him, she slowly arches her chest out toward him.

       Letting him squeeze her left, then right breast, flick a nipple, she feels him reaching up around her hip, cupping a butt cheek, almost molesting her naked body as she’s pulled closer to the chair.  “Sit across my lap… Straddle and face me, girl.”

       “Like this?”  Spreading her thighs as she slides across his lap, feeling herself tugged by her gripped breasts closer to him at the same time, she feels the bulge in his pants across her freshly shaven vagina as she gives a seductive wiggle or two.  Starting to slip her hands behind her back as she leans forward, she finds herself being pushed back by her gripped breasts..

       “Go ahead get to work… Get ready for your first dance.”  Glancing into her eyes, a more serious tone, he continues.  “A few friends are showing up a little later… I expect you to take care of ‘em in the private area…  They can get a little rough, nothing too bad, so expect it… Get going… You’re be on in a few minutes!”

       Slipping off his lap, picking up her dress, she steps toward the door, toward the hallway to the back room to prepare herself.  Glancing toward the manager, still a slight smile on his face; she notices the hint of a slight nod as he speaks.  “They do get a little rough… Just don’t piss ‘em off and you’ll be okay... And…Don’t forget… You’re Raven out there tonight!... Now go meet some of the other girls back in the dressing room… Two doors down on the left… One of em’s got your outfit for the evening… Leather and lace has been set aside especially for you.”

       “I can handle a little rough!”  She answers, the grin gone replaced by more of a smirk.  “Don’t worry!”

       The door shutting behind her, they lean back in their chairs as the owner nods toward the manager.  “Damn… She’s hot…. I damn near shot a load right in my pants when she slid across my lap.”

       “Yea… He sent us a good one.”  The manager acknowledges.  We’re all be getting us a piece of that ass before the nights over.”

       “Yeah… We’re going to owe him for the show’s she’s going to give us tonight… She thinks she can take it rough, eh?... She’ll see!”

End Part 5  

          

       

        

       

                           

       

         

       

       

       

       

       

       

THE COLLECTOR

Chapter Six

       The long, harsh memories of the first night behind her, then a few more routine nights of stripping and she satisfies him with her progress.  Confident of her abilities, researching the area’s ‘gentlemen’s clubs’ he has her accept a position further up state.  Dyeing her hair red, blue contact lenses and a downgrade in cars from her Mercedes to an older Cadillac to drive to work, in just a couple nights she advises him she’s found a couple girls, either of which would be easy prey.  Both single and neither overly friendly with the staff, one actually a real bitch, their disappearances probably wouldn’t raise much attention.  The decision’s made to abduct both the same evening.

       Leaving the club in a light but steady rain after closing, the three girls run toward their cars around the back of the building together, athletic bags under their shoulders.  His assistant jumps into the driver’s side door of the black Caddy, starting it up as the others hesitantly stop next to theirs, noticing flat tires on both.  Hitting the button on the driver’s door, letting her passenger window barely lower, she yells out toward them above their cursing comments.

       “Need some help?... Hop in out of the rain.”  Hitting another button, the truck popping open, she adds.  “There, toss your bags in the trunk, we’ll get some help.”

       Shaking their heads, the blonde kicks the left front tire of her car with another expletive before both hurl their bags into the trunk.  The blonde first then the dark haired girl slip across the seat from the passenger side door, yank it shut.  As his assistant momentarily keeps their attention, he calculatingly rises up from the rear floorboard, leaning quickly between the two; Jamming the pair of syringes into their necks in just a few seconds the abductions are well under control as the car drives around the back side of the lot.

       The hour and a half drive’s uneventful after the girls are hogtied and placed in the trunk just down the street in a vacant lot.  Arriving at the estate, parking in the garage, the barely semiconscious girls are acquainted with their new surroundings.  Stripped naked, electronic chocker collars affixed around their throats, they’re tossed into separate barren cells with just seedy mattresses, left until morning.

       A few hours sleep, the assistant checking on the other pair of girls still in isolated darkness, his attention’s again focused on the newly abducted.  Opening the first cell door, the blonde haired girl curled on the mattress in a fetal position, she glares toward him as he steps into the barren room.  The small hand held device in his hand, he nods for her to get up as she turns her head away, toward the wall.  A short press of the button, she screams as her body jerks, her hands reflexively grabbing at the collar.  “Aaaggghhh!”

       “Make it easy on yourself… It only gets worse.”  He almost quietly orders.  “Get up or the next one’s twice as strong.”

       Tears in her swollen eyes, barely shaking her head as she turns, she begins to speak.  Where… What.. What are yo…… Aaaggghhh!”  Another flick of the button and she buckles in pain, jerking at the collar.

       “I said get up… And absolute silence… Speaking’s forbidden… Absolutely forbidden, whore!”

       Quivering, still gripping the shinny black collar pressing against her throat with both trembling hands, she slips off from the mattress, stands shakily in front of him.  Virtually naked, a stripper’s body, breasts obviously augmented with the areolas tan ovals behind the pierced nubs of her nipples, both globes sway above her flattened stomach, her pierced navel.

       “Follow me.”  Stepping out of the cell, turning away from her then slowly walking down the hallway past a couple doors, he hesitates, opens the door to his left as he threateningly raises the device in his hand.  “Inside… Up on the stool… Arms out to your sides… Time to get prepared.”

       Hesitantly obeying, slowly stepping onto the stool as she focuses on the floor, she barely raises her arms out to her sides, her heart pounding in her chest.  Frantically watching, almost bewildered, she sees the long strands of wire in his hand as he steps toward her naked body. Legs trembling, breasts barely swaying, she feels the tightness of the collar almost chocking her as her arms quiver outward.

       “Keep your arms out… Don’t move.”  He orders as he stretches out the first wire, holds it out in front of her bare chest.

        Centering and sliding it across her breasts, he presses the thin wire directly across her areolas just under the nubs of her nipples.  Twisting the wire under her arms and behind her back, he flattens and tugs her breasts toward her armpits.  Crisscrossing the wire’s ends, tugging them back around her sides he stretches the wire out in front of her, one end under her right breast and one end over her left, just a couple inches above and below the horizontal wire.  Flattening her breasts even further against her chest, he tightly crisscrosses the wire yet again.  Reaching behind her, twisting and wrapping the ends of the wire together as he loops the ends back around her sides, he reverses the bindings, one over her right and the other under her left globe.  Snugging the wire even tighter as her compressed breasts bulge between the three spread strands of crisscrossing bindings, he adjusts the trio of strands across her flattened globes.

       “Spread your legs apart.”

       Shuffling her feet on the flat surface of the stool precariously close to the edges, the pain of the crisscrossing wire digging into the mounds of her bare breasts pulse in her chest as her arms painfully waver outward from her sides.  Grunting as she feels even more wire crisscrossing her thighs, then her butt cheeks as he pinches at the folds of her labia, stretching the twin flaps apart and binding them to her inner thighs, her vagina’s obscenely spread open, the wire sinking, disappearing into her quivering flesh as he twists and turns the ends of the tightening metal wire across the small of her back.

       “There… Let’s see.”  He softly speaks as he finishes with the lower binding, reaches out and pinches her left nipple.  Twisting, tugging, he forces the nub out over the taut wire.  Reaching across, digging for her other nipple, giving it a quick twist and tug, he flips it out over the horizontal wire.  “Okay… The nipples look good… Now your clit.”

       Reaching between her thighs, tugging at her clitoris, it glistens from the clit hood as it peaks out from between her spread slit.  “That’s good.”  He smiles as her legs tremble, her arms waver further down toward her sides.  “Finished for now… Back to the cell… Come with me.”

       Painfully stepping from the stool, the wires continuing to borrow into her, she lets her arms lower toward her sides.  Barely able to walk as the wires grip her pinching flesh, she apprehensively watches his fingers on the device’s button as he steps toward the door.  “Hurry it up girl… We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

       Led back to the cell and shut inside she shuffles to the mattress.  Barely able to sit, finally laying back and stretching out on her back, the burning, searing sensations of the wires digging into her discoloring flesh mounts with each movement.  Stunned, barely able to comprehend what’s happened to her, she tries to lay motionless, her heart pounding, forcing her bare breasts to pulse in their bindings as she slips her fingers over the taut wires.  Hearing the next cell door open, faint words a scream, she quickly realizes what’s obviously happening.  Another scream, more muffled words and the door shutting, she hears the whimpers as her stripper friend’s led past the cell, down the hallway.

       Leading her down the hall, the only difference a thick black scarf wrapped across her eyes, they’re met by his assistant as they enter the room across from the one he just used.  A chair sits in the center of the floor, a hollow bottom, a hollow back.  Mainly just thin flat rails with multiple perforated openings, the girl’s led toward it and turned around.  Shoved back, forced to sit, her large, natural breasts sway, bounces as she’s forced to straddle the slats. Her wrists and ankles are tightly cuffed to the chair’s rails as her head twists back and forth, her long hair disheveled, in matted strands.  Bare breasts heaving, she squirms across the slates as her hands clinch into fists.

       “She’s the bitch… A fucking cunt!”  His assistant smirks as she grips the girl’s left breast, twists the nipple while pinching it between her fingernail and thumbnail.

       “Aaaaggghhh!!”  A shrill scream as a splotch of blood drips from the assistant’s twisting fingers.

       “Can we shut her the fuck up… Sir?”  She asks as she again twists, jerks at the stretching breast while getting an approving nod from him.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”

       Ripping the scarf from the girl’s eyes, stuffing it deep down into her throat, their eyes lock as the girl recognizes the assistant.  “I’m going to enjoy this.”  She smirks, still staring into the disoriented girl’s darting eyes.  “Can I hurt her?... Please, Sir?”

       A quiet nod’s all she needs as she presses her open left hand across the outer globe of the shackled girl, makes a fist with her right hand.  “Watch this bitch!”  ‘Smack!’  A roundhouse punch, her fist sinks into the inner curve of her bulging mound.

       “Oomph!”

       A tighter grip, another roundhouse punch.  ‘Smack!’

       “Agghhhh!”

       “Proud of these… Aren’t you Bitch?”  A third punch. ‘Smack!’

       “Aaaggghhh!”  Another muffled scream as the girl frantically glares down toward her bruising globe, tears streaming down her face, dripping across her heaving, naked breasts.

       Glancing toward him, she asks.  “Can I wire her tits Sir?... Please?”

       Again an affirmative nod as he watches the gleam in her eye, the sadistic side of her nature.  Handing her the pair of thin wires he takes a step back, yet another nod.

       Slipping a wire around the battered breast, sliding it firmly across the girl’s breastbone, she loops, twists, twists again, and again.  The muffled cries are barely audible as the girl trembles, shake in the creaking chair as she stretches upwards, arches her back against the slate.  Her breast swelling, bulging, discoloring to a deep shade of purple, her areola, nipple darken, thicken with each sadistic turn.  Her already large breast begins to form an almost symmetrical globe, round and hard, seemingly on the verge of bursting even before the last couple twists.

       Stepping around the chair, looping the second wire around the other breast, more loops, more twists as she rocks in the chair as that instantly discoloring melon bulges, appears to also nearly burst as the wire’s looped around another couple bindings.  Eyes rolling, head twisting, the girl’s grunts, muffled pleadings just add to the assistant’s aggressiveness.  Turning toward him, she asks.   “Can I bind her clit too, Sir?”

       Another nod, another wire, another muffled scream as the wire’s twisted around the nub of the girl’s clitoris stretching out from between her thighs, across her shaven pubic mound.  Jerking, bouncing across the slates, unintelligible mutterings from the ripping scarf, the girl’s clit’s stretched upward by the wire as the thin metal strand’s looped around the front of the chocker collar, tugged tightly between her bulging, almost blackened globes.

       “How’s that feel Bitch!”  She rasps as she leans directly in front of the terrorized girl’s face.  “How’s those tits and pussy look now cunt?... How proud are you of them now?”

       “Let’s get her back to her cell.”  He interrupts.  “Give her some time alone with her thoughts while we plan their afternoon… By the way, tonight’s bringing a few guests by… We’re closing the deal for another placement... With these two, we’ll be down to three again.” 

       Unshackling the terrified girl from the chair, cuffing her trembling wrists behind her back, she’s led back toward the cell, hunched over by the taut wires crisscrossing her torso.  Reaching the cell door, whimpering, stumbling as the wires dig deeper into her tortured flesh, she’s shoved across the mattress face forward, the cell door slammed shut.

       Glancing toward him, the assistant smiles.  “Thank you… Sir!”  

End Part 6                

        

       

                

       

         

                

       

       

THE COLLECTOR

Chapter Seven

       Just a couple hours, the guests arrive early.  The four abductees still in their separate cells are still unprepared for the coming evening.  A quick survey of the cells, he’s unexpectedly made an offer irresistible to refuse.  The four girls are sold as a package to a Far Easterner’s broker.  All four are showered after any bindings are removed and shackled together.  Led naked to the broker’s stretch limo, they’re started on the journey to their new lives overseas.

       No abductees, the cells barren, he has just his assistant in the house.  A short discussion of the situation and it’s decided to immediately step into another quest.  Scanning his computer, searching for another avenue for another possible abduction, a listing of BDSM clubs are carefully scrolled through.  One within an hour or so, one he’s actually patronized once or twice in the distant past, it’s decided to pay the latter a visit this evening as the excitement of the quest’s irresistible.  With him as Master and her as submissive, they’ll try to score a quick abduction.  The next couple hours spent preparing, finally the quest begins anew.

       Entering the driveway and parking in front of the Victorian style mansion, his role as ‘Master’ he steps from the car as the valet swings his door open.  The obligatory tip, stepping around the rear of the glistening black Benz, G55 supercharged AMG sport utility to the passenger side, its door’s already opened by another valet.  Eyes wide the young man, probably barely twenty, holds the door wide as the assistant, her role now as ‘submissive’ steps out into the veranda.

       Her body glistening, the multiple black leather straps comprising her outfit leaves virtually nothing to the imagination.  From her starkly drawn back hair in a tight braid swaying behind her chocker collar down to her six inch black stilettos, her practically naked body causes each individual strap to stretch tautly across her evenly tanned flesh.  The combination of black straps crisscross above and below her symmetrical globes, gold rings glistening from the nipples while another set of straps forming a ‘V’ between her thighs are cut low enough to expose a matching ring piercing her clit hood.  Connecting her outfit together, a single vertical strap runs up the small of her back from the rear of the ‘V’ to the back of the collar.  Elbows, wrists and ankles encircled with leather cuffs complete her outfit.

       Makeup impeccable, she glances into the eyes of the young valet as she slowly turns, her tongue barely visible brushing across the bright red lip gloss on her upper lip.  Glancing down toward the ground she mutters as she slides her hands behind her back.  “Ready Master.”

       Stepping behind her, cuffing her wrists together he follows by pressing her elbows tightly behind her, forcing her breasts to jaunt outward, spread apart before securing those cuffs.  Slipping a gold chain to the front of her collar, glancing her up and down, he nods toward the fascinated valet.  “Mind adjusting her nipple rings for her?”

       Glancing toward him, toward her, he almost hesitantly steps in front of her, raises his fingers to her breasts, rotates the left ring till the small oval centers below the nipple.

       “Good, the other one now.”  Master speaks as his submissive slowly twists her body, smiles toward the boy as he slides his hands across her breasts, adjusts the other ring.

       “Oh… Her clit ring too.”  Master smiles as the young man begins to step back.  “Line it up for her, too”

       Hands almost trembling, he reaches between her legs as her stomach flattens, her pubic mound sloping outward.  Straightening that ring as his fingers brush across her shaven vulva, he steps back, the crotch of his trousers obviously beginning to swell.

       “What do you say?”  Master asks his submissive, almost in a scolding tone.

       Glancing toward him, toward the valet, with a hint of a smile she answers.  “Thank you for adjusting the rings on this submissive’s titties and pussy… May I give you a kiss for your inconvenience?”

       Glancing toward him, toward her, he hesitates before stepping forward.  “Sure… Okay, sure!”

       As she instantly kneels and leans toward him he seems confused, quickly stops.  Pressing her face against his crotch, she spreads her lips and momentarily sucks on the hardening mound behind the material of his trousers.  Glancing up into his startled face, leaning back with still just a hint of a smile, she again raises, turns toward Master.

       Without another word, Master steps toward the door, leading her behind him, leaving the befuddled valet with his hard on covered by his crossed hands.  Closing in on the entrance he whispers.  “Got his dick hard, didn’t you?”

       Obediently following, barely whispering back, she answers.  “Wet too!”

       Entering the mansion, the foyer, they’re greeted by a couple members of the staff, a male and female dressed in tuxes, the female asking.  “May we direct you to your pleasure?”

       Glancing toward his submissive, toward the ‘butchy’ looking staff member, he responds while nodding toward his submissive.  “Yes… Actually I’d like to browse for awhile, maybe allow a little discipline for her, preferably by a Dominatrix in private… Maybe see more then one if that’s okay.”  Handing her a generous amount of large bills he waits for the expected answer.

       Glancing him, his submissive over, a brief conversation between the two and the female gives a nod.  “That can certainly be arranged… Follow me please… This way.”

       Through the foyer, the hallway leading to an old style open elevator with wrought iron double gates, she steps inside, gives them room beside her.  “Going down.”

       Gates closing, elevator jerking, she remains silent as the whirl of the electric motor becomes louder until the floor jerks beneath their feet.

       “Watch your step… Follow me… May I?”  She asks as she takes the chain leader from his hand.  Directing them into another corridor, this one brick, old faded brick with a number of metal doors to either side, she keeps the chain taut on the submissive’s collar as her heels echo off the stone floor.  Stark lights lining the arching ceiling, old conduit stretching from one fixture to the next, faint shadows cover the spaces between the lights as they follow her to the end of the hall.

       “May I?”  She turns, asks him as she raps on the door, reaches for the black iron handle on the door.  “Allow us to prepare her while I introduce you to a couple of the Dominatrix’s.

       The door swinging inward, a quick glimpse of a podium under a single light, ropes hanging from the ceiling and a pair of men in black leather step to the door.  The larger of the two takes the leash from the woman’s hand.

       Nervously glancing toward Master, she feels the chain tighten as she’s led past the open door into the shadowy room.

       Watching, he nods, watches the door shut behind her.  “Let’s meet them.”

       Back up the hall, to the elevator, they step on.  “She’ll be striped naked when you see her again…. Not that there’s much to remove.”  She instructs as she tinkers with the elevator’s handle.  “While I round up a couple of the Dominatrix’s would you like to browse the workouts of some of our female submissives?”

       The elevator jerking, he holds the rail to his left, slowly nods.  Again the whirl of the motor, the hesitant movement of the elevator and they pass a couple floors finally stopping at the third level.  Another hallway, just a couple doors to either side and she smiles.  “Any door… Just enter… I’ll be back to find you shortly.”

       Stepping off, remembering the visits of some time ago, the hallway’s familiar.  Before his good fortune, before accumulating his wealth, he just tasted the possibilities of what’s going on behind those solid, soundproof doors.  Stepping to the first one, turning the knob and swinging the door open the female’s whimpering voice is barely audible from behind the group of people standing around her.  Shutting the door, stepping toward the backs of the people, glancing across a shoulder he sees what’s holding their attention.

       A slight wince, even for him unusual, he takes a second glance at the unbelievable position of the young naked woman, what she’s in the midst of being subjected to.  Feeling the electricity in the room, the intensity of the group’s concentration, he turns toward the hallway.  Pulling the door behind him just as the whimpers become a curdling scream, he shuts it behind him.

       Stepping across to the adjacent door, opening it, the begging voice is chilling as the motion of the sadistic apparatus vibrates the floor.  Again facing the backs of a number of onlookers, glancing around them directly into the terrified eyes of the gorgeous brunette darting wildly around the room as her abused body’s being subjected an unimaginable horror, he shuts that door.

       Glancing toward the elevator, toward another door, he walks down the hall to the third room thinking its a little harsher then he remembered.  Turning the knob, slipping the door open, the now familiar sound of a pleading, screaming female floods the hallway.  Several of the group turning to look his way as the light from the hallway spreads across the darkened room, he catches a brief glimpse of the spread eagled blonde contorting, begging, screaming under the singular light swaying above her.  Her treatment beyond sadistic, her glistening naked body on par with his own submissive, he finds himself absorbed in the brutal display as he takes a step in, pulls the door slowly behind him.

       Just as the door begins to click shut, getting a clear view of the stunning exhibition of torture, the abuse of her naked body, he feels a hand on his shoulder.  Turning facing the tuxedoed woman, he steps into the hallway, shuts the door behind him silencing the screams.

       “Ready to meet a couple Doms?”  She asks as they step toward the elevator.  Glancing back toward the doors, she adds.  “Your sub would fit in quite nicely in one of those rooms you know.”

       “I don’t think so… Not to that extent.”  He answers, again the elevator jerking, directed toward the foyer’s level.

       Jerking to a stop, stepping off as the floors barely line up she leads him to a large private room off to the side.  Entering, a group of patrons, both male and female are milling about.  An open bar on one side of the wall, a buffet style layout in the center of the room and the atmosphere’s casual.

       “They’re intermingling, getting to know one another… Some come alone, some with submissives like you.”  She explains as she steps toward a stereotypical Dom.

       A quick greeting, realizing she’s not what he’s looking for, a moment or two of small talk and he’s led to another.  Across the room, a stylish, sophisticated woman turns toward them.  Beautiful, but maybe to him, just turning the corner of being able to keep her looks much longer, he finds himself intrigued, maybe if necessary.  More small talk, exchange of thoughts about his submissive’s treatment this evening and the hunt continues.

       “The one over there.”   She points out to him.  A young dark haired woman, more then good looking but rather strict in appearance stands by the bar, alone in a tight latex bodysuit.  “She’s been here a few times, every couple months… Likes to inflict pain.  Turning her back to the woman, she adds.  “Actually she’s kind of a Bitch…  She’s into the more attractive girls if you know what I mean, sexually too… And, the more good looking, the more she likes to hurt them… Not that there’s anything wrong with that but, excuse the language… She thinks her shit doesn’t stink.”

       Expression not changing, glancing toward her side of the room he instantly takes in her appearance, instantly knows he’s found his next trophy.  Now… To get her.

           Walking toward the bar, following the tuxedoed woman, they stop as the dark haired woman turns toward them.  Standing between the two women, his eyes lock with his target’s.

       “So this the one with the girl that came in the leather straps?” She asks, a natural frown on her face, her brown eyes almost condescending as she eyes him up and down.

       “That’s me.”  He answers, politely, almost reservedly while in the back of his mind he’s already undressing the bitch… Terrorizing the cunt.

       “Where’s your whore?”  She asks, almost insultingly, again the dark stare, her red lips pouty.

       “She’s being privately prepared… Actually should be ready about now.”  The staff member answers, glancing from one to the other.  “What do you think?”

       “She might do.”  He answers, still in his mind knowing what he really means.  “Maybe she can teach my submissive some manners.”

       “Maybe you too.”  She answers in her rude voice, her lips still pouty.

       “No thanks.”  He holds himself back.  “Just her, for now.”

       “Good … Follow me, the staff member advises, leads them toward the elevator.

       The same jerking ride, the basement corridor and the metal door’s open.  Alone under the light, the men gone, ball gagged his now naked submissive stands on her tiptoes, her wrists shackled to a rope swaying from the block and tackle hanging from the rafter above her.  Several vacant seats line the walls, a rack of various implements of discipline against another wall complete the room’s furnishings.

       “I’ll leave you alone now… Buzzer’s on the wall when you’re done.”  The staff member nods as she shuts the door.

       Walking over toward the rack, glancing at the submissive’s naked body tautly stretching in the rope, the dark haired woman picks out a willowy bamboo shunt.  Flexing it back and forth in her left hand she steps toward the podium.

       Wide eyed, glaring at the shunt, at him, the submissive jerks her head back and forth.  The bamboo reached back, he orders.  “Stop… Not that.”

       Glancing toward the bamboo, toward him, she basically snarls.  “And why not, may I ask?... Are you a wimp?”

       Again holding back, biding his time he answers.  “I brought her here basically naked… That’s the way she’s leaving… I don’t want welts or cuts on her tonight… Not here anyway.”

       “Then what?... Paddle her butt… Like a school girl?... You guys sissies?”

       “I… I’m just not use to that kind of stuff.”  He answers, again thinking if she only knew… The cunt.  ‘Maybe sometime in our home… Maybe a little harsher there.”

       As she glances toward the rack, back toward the glistening body stretched out in front of her, he can see the lust in her eyes, the desire to wear that body out.  Stepping toward them, he softly speaks.  “I… I’ve thought of really disciplining her.”  Raising his hand, sliding his palm across the bare breast trust out just above eye level, he also cups his sub’s butt cheeks as he continues.  “We have a room, nothing like this at home… If we had someone to help us, we could maybe do some things like they do here.”

       “Maybe someone would show you if you had the balls.”   She answers while shuffling through the implements.  “Shit… What’s the sense of spanking… Or smacking?”

       “We… We do have some things at home we’ve never really tried out.”  He almost shyly answers.  “A… A rack type of thing and a bondage type chair… Kind of like a joke thing.”

       “Really?”  She answers, watching his hand melding, squeezing the sub’s bare breast, the gold ring flexing from her thick nipple.  “You don’t know how to use them?”

       “We… We really haven’t felt comfortable to do it with just the two of us… Maybe if someone…. Someone like you could show us.”  He adds while his mind keeps clicking.  “If we could make it worth someone’s while… We… We can afford it… My wife…. I mean my submissive’s also bisexual.”  Damn… He wonders… Where the Hell did that come from?”

       “Really… Bi, huh… And your wife?”  She for the first time smiles as she slides her hand across the other bare breast flicking the nipple ring.  “Really?”

       “If you’d like.”  He continues, reeling her in.  “Sometime you can come to our house and let her be your submissive… If I can watch.”

             “That all you can do?... A typical weak man, huh?... How’d you like to watch me fuck her in your bed?”

       Listening to her shit, already undressing her from her tight latex outfit with his eyes, he can’t wait to have her mounted on some of the real devises back at the estate.  Going for the ring he blurts.  “How ten… Ten grand sound… For tonight?”

       Squeezing the nipple ring, giving it a yank, she practically does a double take.  “Ten?... Ten thousand dollars… You serious?”

       “Yes… Yes, ten… Like I said, we have money.”  He answers, watching the greed in her eyes, the lust in her eyes as he reaches in his pocket.  “To… Tonight, when we leave here… Here’s a thousand now.”

       Taking the pair of William McKinley’s, never seeing five hundred dollar bills before, she grips them in her fist, stutters. “Where… Where you live?”  Again melding the sub’s bare breast, then slipping her hand down across the shaven pubic mound like she was testing produce at the market, she again asks.  “How far from here?”

       “Not far… About a half hour… You… You can follow us when we leave… We keep plenty of money at home… We… we’ll give it to you as soon as you get there.  He continues his pitch.  “Actually, she can ride with you if you want and you can follow me… Okay?”

       Again watching her eyes, throwing out all the stops, letting her have his sub on the way home t get the money, he knows he has her.

       “No bullshit!”  She again with her smug style orders.  “Ten grand and I’m in charge when we get there… You just watch, that’s all… Understand?... You ain’t fucking me!”

       “Yes Mam.”  He answers, steps over, rings the buzzer.  “I’ll just watch.”

       A couple minutes, the two men enter; undo the ropes as the tuxedoed woman returns with the cuffs, shoes and straps.  Glancing at the naked sub, no marks, just a few minutes of time passing, she asks.  “Everything okay… Nothing wrong?”

       “No… Everything’s perfect.”  He answers.  “Would you have a blanket, possibly?”

       “Sure.”  Nodding toward one of the men, he retrieves one from a cabinet, hands the green wool blanket to him.  Wrapping the sub, they walk toward the elevator.  Silence as the elevator does its usual jerk, exiting at the foyer level, the threesome walk out the door to the valets.   Getting their cars, hers an older Saab, the young valet helps the sub in that passenger seat.  A wink, a smile from the blanketed sub as she gives a slight flash of her naked body underneath and the valet steps back.  Handed a generous tip, he watches the Saab follow the Mercedes from the drive.

       Off the property, onto the country road and both cars drive into the darkness.  A few minutes pass as he watches his mirror.  Knowing his newest trophy’s probably enjoying his assistant’s company he allows a little longer, turns his signal on toward an old empty convenient store lot.  Stopping waving at the Saab pulling up behind him he points at his rear tire.

       Rolling her window down, the young snobbish Dom leans her head out.  What’s the ma…”

       The syringe in hand, the needle sliding into her neck just beneath her left ear and the abduction’s on.  Sliding her across the seat, his assistant trotting to the Benz, grabbing a jogging suit from the back seat and slipping it on, within a couple minutes they’re on the road, within the hour they’re pulling in the gated drive to behind the mansion.

       Feeling the acrid smell beneath her nostrils, the dampness clinging to her upper lip, her eyes roll, she coughs, gasps for air.  Unable to move her legs, her arms, as a hard rubber ‘O’ ring painfully stretches at her lips, she can only grunt as she stares at the full length mirror in front of her.  She glares unbelievingly at the reflection of her naked body, the one piece latex body suit cut in pieces lying on the floor beneath her as her bare breasts thrust out from her arched back shoulders tightly wrapped in a single sleeve bondage restraint.  Legs spread apart over an upside down ‘V’ shaped wooden device, her toes barely touching the floor; the pain wracks her searing vagina.  Even more pain burns at her breasts, pounding with each heartbeat.  Staring closer at the reflection she sees the pair of five hundred dollar bills folded and clamped beneath serrated alligator clamps embedded in her bleeding nipples.

End Part 7  

         

       

             

       

       

       

          

       

               

            

        

       

         

       

               

THE COLLECTOR

The Young, arrogant Dominatrix meets the Collector, his real self as she receives her initiation into his world.  A quick and painful workout by him, a short respite and she’s turned over briefly to his assistant for a brief but painful introduction.

Chapter Eight

       Angry, frustrated at the audacity of being striped naked, humiliated and bound, never having been on the receiving end in the sadomasochistic element of her world, she twists, jerks across the sharp wooden rail between her legs as she virtually ignores the discomfort.  Fruitlessly struggling, her arms are virtually numb behind her back in the tightly bound black bondage sleeve.  Her proud breasts standing out bare, the nipples beginning to drip blood from the currency painfully clamped to their tips, again more anger then pain as she’s never allowed a man to touch her breasts before.  Glancing down back and forth toward her heaving chest, saliva drools across the firm globes from the bright red ‘O’ ring stretching at her lips as she grunts and twists, bounces, again to no avail as she’s unable to free her jiggling nipples.

       Fully alert, the seconds seem like minutes as her heart pounds, the pain escalating, her temper becoming uncontainable. Glancing around the stark room, obviously their ‘bondage’ room, she’s furious as the sound of the door opens to her side.  Glaring at him entering, she bucks, grunts, the serrated clamps jerking at her compressed nipples, the paper currency.

       Stepping beside her, unsnapping the strap from behind her neck, removing the gag from her mouth, he steps back a step as she butts her head, twists her body toward him as she screams.  “Mother-fucker”… Let me go you bastard!”  Eyes blazing, spitting, kicking, her naked body gyrates as her vagina grinds, scrapes the hard pointed wood.  “I’ll kill you… You Bastard!”

       Stepping back in front of her, head lowered, eyes staring toward the wooden ‘V’ spreading her thighs, digging into the spreading, stretching folds of he vagina, he silently glances down toward his left hand, slowly raises it as she continues her ravings.  “Smack… Smack… Smack… Smack… Smack!”  Backhand, forehand, another backhand followed by another forehand, another backhand controllably smashes across her face.  Left cheek, right cheek, back and forth, the sounds of the harsh, forceful blows reverberates in the room as her body rocks backwards across the creaking wood.

       Reeling, twisting, her body bowing back, blood oozing from her cut lip, he grabs and twists her hair, jerks her head back.  “Smack… Smack… Smack… Smack… Smack!!”  More back hands, forehands, again across her face, again drawing blood, now from a nostril as stunned, her body practically goes limp, held up mostly by his gripping fist.

       Releasing her hair, stepping back a step as she slumps toward the side, he remains silent, her hazed eyes no longer glaring but barely focusing at his own now glaring, dangerous eyes staring back as he again steps forward with cupped fists.  Shifting, bouncing on his feet, lunging toward her, he swings. “Thwack!”  A harsh punch just above her belly button, ached forward as his fist sinks into her stomach, the sound of air escaping her lungs, whooshing from her bleeding mouth’s followed by more blows, higher.  “Thwack…Thwack…Thwack… Thwack!!”  The serrated clamps, currency jerking free, falling to the floor, he continues.  A right cross, a left hook, another right cross, a left, each blow smashing across her thrust out flailing breasts.  “Thwack… Thwack!!”  Another left, another right, his fist burrowing into her rapidly bruising breasts as she struggles for breath, unable to breathe, much less scream.

       Stepping behind her, gripping, twisting her hair and jerking her head back, he finally speaks, almost screams as light foam forms on the corners of his lips, spittle spewing from his contorted mouth across her naked flesh.  “Bitch… Just who the fuck you think you’re talking to?”  Twisting her face toward him, her eyes swollen, filled with tears, he continues.  “You fucking cunt… Did you actually think I was some kind of punk to threaten me like that?... Some kind of fag or something to talk to me like that?

       Shoving his fingers deep inside her mouth, stretching, twisting, he distorts her mouth, her face as he practically rams his entire fist between her swollen lips, her teeth grinding across the skin on the back of his hand.  Glaring, almost squinting, he snarls.  “You want to know who I am bitch?... Do you really want to fucking know?”  Gripping her tongue, pinching, tugging, they almost scream in unison.  “I’m your worst fucking nightmare bitch!... I’ll rip your fucking tongue out and eat it right in front of you if you ever… I mean ever have the audacity to even think you can speak to me like that again!... Ever again!!”

       Taking a breath, releasing her hair, sliding his hand from her mouth, he again takes a step back, turning his back momentarily as he struggles not to smile, but to keep the appearance of being some kind of lunatic.  Running his open hands back over the dampening hair above his ears on both sides of his head, his heart racing, savoring the role he loves to play with the more feisty trophies like her, he takes a moment to contain himself, continue the act.

       Straightening, turning back toward her, watching her slumping body quivering, her battered breasts jerking with each heaving breath as she struggles not to cry he slightly bends in front of her, glances into her eyes.  In an instant, having a one hundred and eighty degree change in disposition, tilting his head back and forth, almost a pleasant smile on his face and with an almost subtle voice, he asks.  “Tell me… How do you rate your service?”

       Barely able to understand him, still struggling to catch a fresh breath, the pain rippling through her defenseless body she can barely grunt as he leans even closer.  Tilting her head back as their eyes lock, his face even closer, she hears him repeat his insane question, again with a straight, calm face.  Turning her head, feeling the trickle of blood from between her raw thighs lubricating the rigid rail from the scrapped flesh of her labia, she again feels her head jerked back by his fist as he leans even closer, their noses almost touching.

       “I need to know.”  He almost matter of factly states, still the pleasant smile.  “I really do need to know if I should be, you know, more aggressive!… You know, since you’re a Dominatrix and all… You might be able to help me learn, you know?... I’ve got plenty of money for you… You know… To teach me.”  Reaching down to the floor, picking up the pair of crinkled five hundred dollar bills, he wads them in his other fist, waves them in front of he dazed eyes.

       Leaning his head back, staring into her bruised, batted face, down toward her similarly battered breasts, her raw vagina dripping blood down across the wooden mount, he enjoys the surreal moment, his mind racing, thinking how much fun he’s having fucking with her, confusing her, acting stupid.  And, knowing she’s going to beg to die before he’s done with her… But then, she won’t, he won’t let her.

       Okay!... Tell you what.”  He states as he again releases her hair, raises and takes a backwards step toward the door.  “Think about it… When I come back, I’ll bring a nice flexible cane with me and work those tits some more until you can think of an answer for me, okay?... Oh… Then I think I might just fuck you in your asshole… Looks like your pussy’s way to bloody.

       A final glance at her slumping body and he shuts the door behind him.  Adrenaline flowing, its time to fuck the assistant, at least get a quick head job before finding a cane.  A good enough romp in the sack and he might let her help give the bitch the next workout.  But, for now the bitch can have an hour or so to contemplate her new position in life while she catches her breath.

       An hour or so later, the door from the hallway opens.  He enters with his assistant; she has the cane in her hand, he a smile on his face.  Dressed in black latex somewhat like the tattered body suit spewed across the floor, she follows him in.  “I’m back!”  He quips, nods toward his assistant.  “And so is she… Remember her?”

       Barely able to glance up, the trickle of blood tracing down the inverted ‘V’ wooden frame between her legs almost reaching the floor, the Dom leans back exposing her bruised body.  Traces of blood dripping from her abused breasts across her flattened stomach, face discolored, her lips, cheek swollen under a blackening eye, she can barely grunt as she glances with her good eye toward the cane flexing in the assistant’s hand.

       “Remember when the roles were reversed.”  The assistant scowls as she steps behind the battered Dom, speaking for the first time.  “Swish… Thwack!”  The flexing cane bows through the air, smacks and borrows into the fleshy right cheek of the bound woman’s rippling buttocks. “Aaaggghhh!”

       Stepping around, positioning herself in front of her, flexing the cane.  “Swish… Thwack!”  A backhanded flick across her right breast, across the crusty blood of her bruised nipple.  “Agghhhh!”  Another grunt as her naked body rocks across the pointed plank, her toes barely touching the floor as the cane slashes across her left breast.  “Thwack!”

       “Aaaggghhh!”  Another pitiful screech as fresh traces of blood spurts across her chest.

       “How’s she doing?”  He sarcastically asks as he watches.  “She showing you how to accept the crop?...  Is she earning her money?”

       Glancing toward him, the assistant lowers the crop, reaches down and pinches the Dom’s raw clit, stretching it out over the sharp edge of the rail.  Giving a harsh jerk, dragging her quivering hips painfully forward across the glistening wood, she flicks the cane as the Dom’s head frantically jerks back and forth. “Smack”

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  A garbled scream, her body lurches, nearly slides of the side of the rail as the cane crushes her pulsing clit into the sharp point of the rail.  “Aaaaaggggghhh!!!”

       Babbling, jerking, barely coherent, the Dom’s recently proud body trembles across the rail, battered, bleeding, bruised.  Stepping next to his assistant, forcing the cane downward with his open hand, he slowly scans the damage.

       “Okay.”  He softly addresses the Dom.  “This is your first day.”  Taking the cane’s crimson tip, sliding it under the Dom’s chin and raising her head with it, he continues.  “There’s going to be days that make this seem like a picnic.”  Feeling his assistant’s hand pressing against his crotch as she leans against him, he continues.  “You’re going to be mounted in various positions… Fucked in every orifice… Pierced… Tattooed… Branded… Hell, who knows what else?”  Lowering the cane, letting her slump forward, he realizes she can barely comprehend what he’s saying.

         Feeling his cock being stroked through the material, thinking how much his assistant’s willing to give and be involved in his enormously pleasurable pursuit, he savors the moment of sharing.  Turning toward the door, still each with a hand on the cane, they leave the room; leave her hunched over to herself as they shut the door behind them.            

End Part 8          

THE COLLECTOR

A short, private session between him and his latest trophy.

Chapter Nine

       Again awakening, again immobile, arms and legs tautly stretched spread-eagled, the strapped bondage hood is stifling, her saliva drooling from the harsh ‘O’ ring crammed between her yawning lips down across her obviously bare breasts.  Unable to see or hear for what seems like days now, she can only feel pain, pain throughout her body from head to toes.  Time immeasurable, conscious, unconscious, she flows back and forth, the only constant, the aggravating pain.  Flexing her fingers, toes, the only parts of her body she’s able to control, she feels the dampness of her bare flesh, the irritating sensation of moisture crisscrossing down across her naked body between the unpredictable, occasional searing pain across her breasts, or between her spread thighs, the obvious results of being flogged with harsh leather.

       Being on the receiving end of her sadomasochistic environment is unthinkable.  Being actually abducted, bound and tortured, receiving the brutal treatment along with the threats, she realizes the severity of her predicament, the devastating hopelessness of the moment as she drifts in and out of her seemingly endless nightmare.

       He steps into the chamber; it’s the middle of the night after three days of her abduction and of being bound in her bondage position for the past two. Alone with his trophy, a private little session’s in store as he sets the cardboard box he’s carrying onto the close by table.  Stepping slowly around her, the damp drain on the tile floor beneath her where she relieves herself, the next couple or so hours will just involve the two of them.  Glancing over her bare breasts, down between her spread thighs, he soaks in the sight of her bruised, raw flesh, the patterns of the whip marks across her firm, almost proud breasts down to the swelling, bruised flesh between her tautly stretched thighs.

       Gripping both nipples, twisting pinching, he feels her body jerking, hears the pathetic grunts from the glistening ‘O’ ring, she’s awake.  Getting her attention, digging his fingernails into the nubs of her nipples, he feels her breasts quiver as he slowly rolls his fingers back and forth.  Again hearing more grunts, watching her athletic body reflexively tremble in the creaking rope bindings, he watches a trickle of blood ooze across his left thumbnail as he digs it unsympathetically into her tortured flesh.

       Partially licking his thumb, leaving just its tip crimson, he slips the thumb between the ‘O’ ring, swipes it across her tongue.  The strap around the forehead of the mask holding her head firm, the ‘O’ ring holding her mouth widely spread, he shoves his thumb further into her mouth, watches as she reflexively gags, her breasts jerking, her stomach flexing.

       Stepping back a step or two toward the table, lifting the old hand crank wall phone from the cardboard box, he shuffles through the bottom of the box for the set of wires.  The old movies, the old torture scenes with the hand crank, the wires affixed to bare flesh, he feels the excitement of actually giving it all a try.

       A black tangled wire, a red crumpled wire, both with old, rusty alligator clamps affixed with rounded, gruff screws, he pinches one clamp then the other between his finger and thumb checking their creaking responses.  Both stiff but operable, stretching the wires from the phone laying on its back on the table, he pinches, twists her left nipple, lets a worn clamp grind across that nipple.

       “Agghhhh!”  The pain excruciating, her body instantly jerking, she reflexively grunts though the mouth gag from the unexpected jolt.  Feeling her other nipple pinched; almost before she can catch her breath the matching pain jolts through her other breast.  “Oomph!”

       Stretching the wires, watching her naked body come to life, the wires swaying, stretching between her tugged nipples and the table, he slides a chair next to the old wall phone.  Playing with the metal handled crank on the side of the wooden shell encasing the phone’s mechanism, he slowly turns the still almost smooth rotary.  A full but almost gentle full turn, he carefully watches her reaction as her body quivers, trembles in her bindings, from the sensation of the low current.  Stopping, letting his hand rest on the handle, he again enjoys the vision of her naked body squirming in front of him, the body of a dyke, untouched by men, someone with a disdain for men, he can only grin.

       The tingling of the current through her breasts barely surpasses the burning of the clamps digging into her nipples as she struggles in her bindings, her darkness.  Wrists, ankles twisting, being rubbed raw as she pathetically struggles to reach for her breasts, to rip the clamps from her nipples, she coughs, gags on her own saliva spewing from her yawning mouth, drooling across her naked flesh.

       Watching, enjoying her discomfort, watching the harsh serrated clamps disappearing into her tortured breasts, standing, holding the phone box flat on the table with one hand, the crank with his other, he gives the handle a couple, three harsh spins.

       “Aagghh!!!...... Aaaggghhh!!!...... Aaaagggghhhh!!!”  Each complete rotation’s followed by a mounting scream as her body jerks, her breasts flail.  The wires swaying from her breasts to the phone jerk back and forth as the phone box twists on the table almost sliding from his grip as her darkness is lit up with seemingly flashing specks of light in front of her masked eyes with each crank.

       Glancing toward the phone, back at her trembling body, he smiles to himself as he realizes the damn phone crank does really put out some current.  Sitting down beside the table, tapping on the phone’s case with the tip of his index finger, he waits for her to calm down a bit before he again cranks three, four, five complete turns, giving her another jolt, and another, and another while he amusingly watches her naked, dancing body’s tortured reaction.

       “Aaaagggghhhh!... Aaaggghhhh!!!”  Guttural screams emit from the ‘O’ ring spewing specks of saliva across her flailing breasts as her body arches, twists, bucks in the stretching, creaking ropes holding her firmly spread wide in front of him.

       Feeling the results of another crank, another and yet another, her body continues to contort in jolting spurts, her pleading grunts harsher, her saliva drooling across her bare chest from the contorting ‘O’ ring.  Every movement, every contortion’s an erotic movement of her naked, bound body for him as he again lets the handle rest in his hand, just momentarily before he begins the process again.  Jolt after jolt mounting, ravaging her body, searing through her chest as the jerking clamps rip at her raw nipples, she’s barely coherent.  Her thoughts scrambled with each additional jolt as she gags on her own saliva.

       Given a short respite of the brutal electrical current ramming through her breasts, feeling her pulsing breasts burning, the darkness of the hood, the complete silence adds to her mounting fear, terror as the pain’s only predictability is of being unpredictable.  

       Standing next to her and unclamping a clip, jerking it, a wire away from her stretching breast, he presses the welted, reddened globes together.  Stretching the nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he opens the other clamp, slides it roughly across both nubs, releases the rusting metal across her bruised, flattened nipples.

       “Oomph!”  Another garbled whine, her stretched breasts quiver, tugged together at the nipples being pinched tightly together in the serrated metal teeth.  Leaning down between his trembling trophy’s legs, glancing over her drenched, glistening body, her tendons, muscles quivering under her taut, stretched flesh, he slips his open hand down across her thighs, his fingers flicking across her spread slit.  Moist, actually wet, he lets his index finger glide freely between the puffy folds surrounding her clit.  Feeling her reflexive tremors, glancing toward the shinny black bondage hood, just the ‘O’ ring, her nostrils exposed from the face mask’s leather casing, he doesn’t even try to imagine what she must feel, be thinking as he spreads the free clamp, tugs at her clit, snaps the alligator teeth shut across the swelling nub.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!”  Another forced scream as she feels the piercing pain burning between her thighs, the rough edges of the metal digging into her tender flesh as she panics in her isolated darkness.

       Tugging on one wire, the other, both clamps digging firmly into her tortured flesh, he wonders if she realizes what’s next, but then with her contortions, there’s not much doubt in his mind as he sits next to the table, positions himself next to the hand crank on the phone box.

       A short, playful jerk of the handle, he smiles as her body arches, twists with her hands stretching open, clawing shut.  Another quick twist, another contortion of her naked body as her breasts quiver, seems to spread apart, the nipples still firmly gripped in the jerking clamp.  A third partial trial twist of the handle, another contortion of her glistening, abused body as mucus streaks down the black hood above the ‘O’ ring with each breath through her flailing nostrils.

       Holding the box firm with one hand, leaning against the table as he watches her, he grips the handle, spins it a full circle, a second circle a little quicker, a third even more rapidly as he can hear the mechanism whirling, the spinning armature inside the phone’s wooden frame producing the surprising amount of current.

       “Agghhhh!… Aaagggghhhh!... Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  Each crank’s followed by another screech, each screech longer, louder and obviously more painful.

       Chocking on her saliva, her mucus, while the leather hood presses into her face, the electricity spreads throughout her chest, between her thighs, up into her womb.  Ears ringing as she gnaws at the hard rubber ring forced between her teeth, her clit, breasts sear with pain, the sharp teeth digging into her tender flesh, the current circulating through the same clamps into her spasm wracked body.

       Again a short respite as he relaxes, thinks.  Leaning back into his chair, watching her obscene gyrations as they’re alone together is exhilarating, especially with her since she’s only known the dominant side of the BDSM scene.  Fucking her, making her suck him, submit to him as just another weak sniveling slut will keep his attention a lot longer then all the others have. Yes, her training will obviously take some time, breaking her will be interesting he thinks to himself as he stands, steps in front of her.  It’s time to introduce her to what she’s never had.

        Tugging the clamp upward on her clit as he grips his thickening shaft in his other hand, he forces its swollen head between her thighs.  Pushing slowly forward, feeling his manhood slide between her spread folds encircling her vagina, feeling the tightness of her, he lets his cock slowly, gently sink inward.  The moist, tight fit massages his foreskin almost like a glove as her firmness doesn’t surprise him.

       Slowly gliding in and out, almost in a caring sort of way, he allows another inch or so with each thrust until all nine plus inches are buried inside her.  Holding firm, feeling his shaft pulsing as he tightens, flexes, he feels her own tremors, surely not of pleasure he thinks to himself as he again begins to slowly rock back and forth, his shaft sliding in and out several inches at a time.

       The pain of floggings, the electrical jolts, the ripping serrated clamps searing throughout her defenseless body, the anguish, terror of her endless bondage, she feels herself being violated by a man’s cock.  Feeling the spreading of her vagina, the hot shaft pulsing inside her, she tries to remain motionless, to block out the humiliation of a man’s organ inside her orifice for the first time.         

End Part 9