Excerpt from: The Purgatory Quest

 

 

Just before ten the next morning Jill was sitting on a park bench scanning the length of North End road. As she did so she wondered what she had let herself in for getting personally involved with the Purgatory Club once again. Surely she could have worked out some way of sending Mister Tiger a copy of Sondra's letter and let him sort it out. Sondra's welfare was not her responsibility. As she had said to her mother, in retrospect she did not resent the way the Club had treated her since it had ultimately enabled her to discover her true nature. But it still felt absurdly like history was repeating itself. Here she was in effect chasing after Sondra again. At least before she had the excuse that she was in the grip of blind infatuation. But that love was dead, and she had her own life now. So what was motivating her?

She was still turning the problem over in her mind when she saw the large white transit van turn into the far end of the road. As it drew closer she saw the discrete sign: "ATRY GROUP - Deliveries" on its side.

Feeling her stomach flutter and nipples harden she got up and walked to the curb. The van came to a halt, its motor idling. She went round to the back and twisted the handle of the rear door. It swung open smoothly, revealing a dark interior. She climbed the step and peered inside.

'Hallo,' she called out, 'I'm Jill Fleming. I think you're expecting me - eek!'

A strong hand had caught her wrist and jerked her forward, twisting her arm behind her back as she did so, even as somebody else slammed the door shut. She was forced face down into what felt like a mattress covered by thick plastic sheeting. A knee bore down into the small of her back while a hand grasped a fistful of her hair and held her mouth pressed into the mattress, smothering any further protests. She felt a second man kneel across the backs of her legs, holding them down. Her skirt was flipped upwards, and panties dragged down, exposing the upper slopes of her buttocks. Jill felt a sharp prick as a needle sank into her soft flesh followed by a burning sensation that turned into a cool, dull spreading numbness.

Of course, they were taking no chances.

From long experience Purgatory deliverymen did not trust the "parcels" they collected to meekly accept their fate and knew how much damage a frightened and furious young woman could inflict with her nails and teeth. So they drugged them until they could be put into travelling restraints.

Knowing it was useless to fight, even as she felt a perverse thrill at her own fear, Jill forced herself to relax and surrender to the inevitable. As the drug took effect it was as though she was becoming detached from her body and cotton wool was being packed about her brain. She could still feel everything in a distant detached sort of way and was breathing shallowly, but she had lost control of her limbs and was as limp and helpless as a rag doll.

The man holding her hair turned her head to one side and slapped her cheek to check she was incapacitated, then he and his companion got up, leaving her sprawled on the mattress. A double row of small fluorescent lights came on, revealing its windowless interior to be identical to the first Purgatory van she had travelled in, with on one side a tiny toilet cubicle and a padded bench fitted with seatbelts, while opposite was a rack of metal utility shelving. The walls and ceiling were sheathed in thick quilted soundproof padding.

She could just roll her eyes upward enough to see the deliverymen in their overalls and peaked caps. Like the men who had originally transported her realistic flesh-like masks concealed their actual faces, though she was sure they were not the same men. One had a blue cravat tucked into the top of his shirt, the other a green; otherwise it was almost impossible to tell them apart.

The one in the green cravat went forward and pulled back a sliding panel opening onto the driver's cab.

'She's secure, Mr Red,' he reported, and the van pulled smoothly away into the traffic.

The men rolled Jill onto her back and began stripping the clothes off her with practiced hands, examining each item and running a device the size of a large cell phone over them which she guessed was some sort of bug scanner. They even removed her wristwatch. In turn they checked the contents of her bag, taking out the envelope containing Sondra's letter that she had marked: FOR MISTER TIGER.

Then they turned their attention to Jill herself, running the scanner over her bare body, checking nothing was concealed in the hair and even prying open her mouth to see it was empty. They worked their way down to her groin. Green pulled on a latex glove, they pulled Jill's legs wide, peeled back her labia and thrust stiff exploratory fingers up her vagina.

Jill felt the familiar thrill of helpless exposure growing within her, despite the numbing drug. God, I'm a perverted creature, she thought with slightly befuddle delight.

'See that, Mr Blue,' his companion observed, pulling his hand clear to run a finger through the cleft of her weeping vagina, 'We've got a hot one here.'

'Yeah, she's a Purgatory slut all right, Mr Green. They never lose the taste for a bit of rough handling.' He tweaked and slapped Jill's breasts cheerfully, making them shiver.

They rolled her onto her front and Green slid a thick finger up her rectum as far as it would go. Jill gave a faint moan at the intrusion, though his finger slid in easily enough. Regular sodomy at the Dungeon had eased the natural tightening sphincter reflex and her time in Purgatory had taught her to flush out and oil her anus after voiding her bowels to keep it clean and fresh for other functions.

'Well she's not wired or tagged,' Green said when he had finished his inspection. 'Better get her secure, then. She'll be coming out of it soon.'

From behind the shelving they pulled out a pair of grocers' wheels, of the kind used to shift sacks and heavy boxes. A square of thick plywood had been fixed to the base while a section of aluminium ladder had been bolted to the metal back frame, extending above the handles to head height. Fastened to the ladder uprights was an array of broad leather straps hanging invitingly open.

Blue and Green dragged Jill to her feet and stood her on the wooden base and buckled her firmly to the ladder frame with straps circling her ankles, knees, waist, chest, neck, upper arms and wrists. For good measure they pushed a ball gag into her mouth and bound a blindfold strap across her eyes. Then they secured the wheels with bungee cords against the side of the van, tucked the envelope into Jill's waist strap and left her to herself.

As far as she could estimate they travelled for about an hour, though she suspected some of that included a roundabout course to shake off anybody who might have been following them and confuse her as to the location of the rendezvous. By the time she felt the van slowing and turning down a steep ramp she was completely recovered from the drug they had injected and had been diverting her natural anxiety by gently straining against her straps and enjoying the sensation of utter immobility and helplessness. The last time she had been transported the men had used a cage on wheels concealed within a large cardboard carton. She liked this better.

The van came to a halt and the back doors were opened. A loading ramp was slid out from under the van and Jill felt herself tilted backwards and wheeled down it onto what felt like a rough concrete floor that set the wheels juddering and her breasts jiggling. Cool damp air smelling of mould and rot waft over her body.

She was wheeled round and stood upright. She heard the heavy footsteps of the deliverymen receding. Somewhere in the distance was the faint rumble of traffic and birds twittering. She shivered, suddenly appreciating just how vulnerable she was out here, wherever "here" was. They could do anything they liked to her. This was not a game like in the Dungeon. Her nipples stood up a little harder.

A softer tread approached. A hand took the envelope from under her waist strap and there was a rustle of paper as it was opened and read.

After a few moments, the gag was pulled from her mouth, and she heard Tiger's commanding tones. 'Do you believe what this letter says is true, Slut?'

Jill licked her dry and stretched lips. 'Yes, I think so. It sounds like Sondra -ahh!'

Twin metal prongs had jabbed into her stomach and delivered a stinging jolt of electricity. She'd felt that sort of pain before. It was from a Purgatory slave-prod.

'You will address me properly,' Tiger warned her.

'Sorry, Master,' Jill said hastily. 'I believe it is from Sondra, Master.'

'And what do you think has happened to her?'

'That somebody's used the Purgatory system to spot a likely sex slave they can take for themselves, Master. But they haven't just snatched her. They're fooling Sondra's parents into thinking she's in Brighton. That sounds organized. It got me thinking. Maybe this isn't the first time this has happened...'

She heard him sigh. 'It isn't. There have been rumours about former sluts going missing, but until now no hard evidence it was being done systematically or that Purgatory members might be involved.'

'But now you know you will try to find Sondra, won't you, Master?'

'I'll do what I can. But we have hundreds of members and associates, many who keep slaves privately, often Club sluts who bonded with them and wished to continue serving after they had proved their contrition.'

How many slaves were there in the world, Jill wondered? It opened up possibilities she had never imagined. 'Aren't there any records, Master?'

'Yes. Club members register their slaves with us. Since your call I've been searching for them and the records of their owners for any clues. But if Sondra is genuinely in fear of her life then I must proceed with caution. I may need an agent to go where I cannot. I wonder... would you be willing to help find Sondra, and any other girls being held unofficially?'

'What could I do, Master? I'm just a slut.' Even as she spoke she wondered at how readily the intentionally degrading Purgatory word for a slave girl fell from her lips.

'Exactly. Since we spoke I've also been checking up on you. I understand you perform at the Deviation Dungeon. It seems you found our discipline to your liking.'

Absurdly in the circumstances, Jill now felt herself blushing. 'Yes, Master.'

'That could be a useful talent. I might use you as bait to see which of our members are prepared to break our code of conduct. I couldn't use my own slaves as they're too well known. You might be able to find out things that would be hidden from me. Also it would give me a genuine excuse to investigate suspects without arousing their suspicions. But I admit there may be some risk. Well?'

Jill took a deep breath. 'I'll do whatever necessary to find Sondra, Master.'

Suddenly he pulled the strap from her eyes. She squinted in the light. She saw stained concrete panel walls, grimy broken windows and a lofty metal frame roof. A disused factory or warehouse of some kind, she guessed. Before her was Mister Tiger in his namesake mask covering the upper half of his face and his immaculate dark suit with the black and white-striped lapels, looking just as she had first seen him in the great lounge of the Purgatory Club. He grasped a handful of her hair and twisted so that she looked him straight in the eye, even as he forced the tip of the slave prod into her vagina. Jill felt the cold metal contact bands encircling its shaft press against the hot wet walls of her passage and froze rigid. She knew how much a shock there hurt.

'That was a very quick answer, Slut,' he asked suspiciously, stirring the rod menacingly inside her until she whimpered. 'Why are you so ready to take risks on her behalf? I know you came to Purgatory for love of Sondra. Yet in the end she rejected you, despite your sacrifice to be with her. She even called you a "freaky bitch". So why are you doing this for her now?'

And suddenly Jill knew why. 'I think it's guilt, Master,' she gasped. 'After I returned home I saw what she was like. I even fucked her like a slave, just to prove I was the stronger one now. I knew then anybody could do the same if they wanted. I had half an idea of warning her parents she was vulnerable or keeping an eye on her, but I didn't because I was too busy enjoying myself. If somebody has taken her then I'm partly to blame.'

'I see.' Tiger released her hair but left the prod lodged inside her. 'Well your conscience does you credit. But remember once you agree to this there's no turning back. You will be acting under Purgatory discipline as my tool. I will take every precaution to ensure your safety, but I do not guarantee you will not suffer.' He smiled, twisting the prod inside her until she rolled her eyes. 'Although I think you could happily endure a lot of suffering. But I cannot let a single slut's feelings stand in the way of the Club's reputation. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Master. I want to do this.'

'Very well. I'll contact you as soon as I have completed by research. Meanwhile behave as normal. We've no reason to suppose you are a potential target as you are not a vulnerable type like Sondra, but it will not hurt to be careful. Just warn the owners of the Dungeon that sometime soon you may be away for a few days visiting a friend or something.'

'I understand, Master.'

'Then I'll tell the van crew they can take you back home.' He pulled the prod from her vagina, its head glistening with her juices, and turned to go, then glanced back at her with a gentle smile. 'By the way, Slut; the shaven pubes suit you.'

The warm glow of his compliment was still with Jill as Green and Blue wheeled her back to the waiting van where Mr Red was waiting, virtually indistinguishable from the other two except for his coloured cravat. They did not free her, of course, which came as no surprise. Though she had Mister Tiger's confidence she was also now under Purgatory discipline and expected the men to treat her like any other slut they transported.

Which was exactly what they did.

All three men got into the back of van with her and closed the doors. While she had been talking to Tiger they had hung three pairs of chains from the van roof ribs running along the length of the compartment. The first and last pairs ended in cuffs, while the middle pair fastened to a broad belt.

'Mister Tiger said we might be having you as a parcel quite a bit for the next few weeks, Slut,' Blue said.

'So we won't want any trouble,' Green added.

'Which is why we thought we'd make it clear who's in charge right here and now,' Red concluded.

Jill felt sick, exciting, stomach-churning anticipation rising within her, setting the blood pumping into her clitoris and nipples. She knew it was a blatant display of helpless, submissive need and secretly delighted in its strength.

'I promise I'll be a good, obedient slut, Sirs,' she said meekly.

'You will be, girl,' Blue promised.

As Blue and Green unstrapped Jill from the wheeled frame, Red pushed a ring gag into her mouth, forcing it to gape wide. Then the three of them lifted her off her feet and carried her under the dangling chains. Jill was perfectly unresisting, surrendering to their strength, letting them manipulate and position her like a doll.

They cuffed her wrists and ankles and buckled the belt about her waist, so she was suspended on her back in mid-air at about waist height, with her arms and legs pulled upwards and out from her body like a starfish. The belt connected to the middle set of chains ensured her back did not bow or sag. Her naked vulva gaped wide, a wet pink gash above the crinkled bronze pit of her anus.

Blue, Green and Red took down multi-thonged lashes from the equipment racks and began swiping them crisply across her spread body, making her dance and jerk in her chains, driving gasps and whimpers from her spread lips. The thongs were too broad to cut her flesh and the blows were not hard enough to leave bruises, but how they stung and burned! They did not stop until they had painted a red blush on her from neck to ankle.

Then they unzipped their flies and pulled out their erections, now stiff with lust. Taking it in turns they first rammed them into her vagina a few times until they were oiled by her dripping juices, then plunged them into her anus, making her swing in her chains. When they were almost ready to come they moved round to her head and pushed their cocks through the ring of her gag for her to lick and suck, forcing her taste her own vaginal and rectal exudations until they spouted their sperm down her throat.

When they had all had their fill of her they pushed two of the lashes handle-first up her vaginal canal and the other deep in her rectum.

'Are you going to be a good slut?' they demanded as they churned them within her.

'Ull gee ahh goood hlutt!' she gurgled again and again though her gag until she finally came with scream and rattle of metal links.

They left her hanging limply in her chains for the drive home, with the thongs of the lashes, stained with her juices, sprouting from her cruelly distended orifices.

Jill felt sore, soiled, degraded and perfectly content.