The Begging Chair: Day Two

 

Copyright 2023 Melissa DuVant

Published by Melissa DuVant at Smashwords

 

 

 

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One: Feeding Time (Queen)

Chapter Two: An Enticing Trap (Precious)

Chapter Three: Frustration and Power (Princess)

Chapter Four: Initial Assessment (Manageress)

Chapter Five: Brute Force Approach (Champion)

Chapter Six: A Rough Day (Precious)

Chapter Seven: A Worthy Test (Princess)

Day Two Intermission: Outside Expert

About the Author and Artist

Studying Submission Chapter 8 Preview: Dominance Play

 

Acknowledgements

When you start thinking about them, so damn many reality TV shows are basically asking for a kinky makeover! I can't be the only one that wants to see kinksters bring their DIY toys into a big tent near a stately home and see who has made the best paddle or whatever, right?

 

 

 

 

Chapter One: Feeding Time (Queen)

Ayaka checked herself in the mirror, making sure her makeup was all correct and perfect, her eyes rimmed with subtle darkness, her lips red and full, just a touch of colour along her cheekbones. A sexy short skirt, tight and black, and a blouse, low-cut to show off her breasts, golden necklaces falling into her cleavage. It would be enough to have any clients eating out of her hands, and their wives staring daggers at her! Her pussy was still sore from yesterday, the paddling making her soft lips ache, even after sleeping. She'd tried touching herself while hidden away beneath the bedsheets, but that had hurt, sending little twinges of shuddering pain through her body, even from just light pressure.

She ground her teeth, fingers tensing on her hairbrush as she ran it through her jet-black hair. If she ever got the chance, she'd take the back of the brush to that girl's ass and pussy, then find a dildo to shove down their throat! Perky little slit-bitch! Had she really taken that much punishment herself? She must have been cheating somehow! What could Ayaka do in order to re-establish command? This would be a lot easier face-to-face, where she could simply throw them against a wall, flip their skirt up and start reddening their pert butt, but doing it remotely was a nuisance. Stupid little brat-bitches, always running back to Daddy or a boyfriend when there was trouble. But without someone to run back to, if Ayaka got hold of them, then it would go badly for them!

Still, she had confidence in her own looks - she made a "kissing" expression at the mirror, making sure the tint of her lips was nice and bright, her hair in sharp, black lines on either side of her face. Now that she was dressed, she was ready to face the day! Assuming it was the day, anyway - without any external windows, she had no idea what time it actually was, her watch and phone having been removed when she was bought here, wherever here was.

Food first, and then she could plan what to do about that bratty little princess. She rose and walked into the living area, swaying slightly on her stiletto heels, making sure to smile at the camera.

She tried to open the food cabinet, but it refused to budge. Even when she took a firm grip and yanked towards herself, it didn't budge, even slightly, and an angry buzzing sound echoed around, making her wince.

A message appeared on the screen. By order of Princess, the food is sealed. An alternative has been selected.'

'What!?' She remembered that some kind of restriction had been mentioned, but she needed to eat - the show wasn't going to starve her, surely? She tugged again, her long nails jabbing into her palm, but with no more effect than before.

The front door clicked, slowly swinging open to reveal a black crate, about waist-height, the outer door still sealed. Ayaka glared at the door, resisting the urge to kick it, then went to go and look at the "delivery". There was no logo or marker on the box, made of thin sheets of metal. It wasn't too heavy, although large enough that it was a pain getting it into the room - she managed to shift it into one corner of the kitchen-space, scuffing up the floor as she dragged it.

One of the front panels had a small lever in place, Ayaka pushing a nail into the crack and flicking it out, then pulling it down. Some mechanism clicked, and it started to hinge down, gracefully slow, pneumatics keeping it under control.

Inside it, Ayaka could see two tanks - one full of water, the other of some creamy paste, a light beige colour. Was it some kind of food-paste, and water? Some of her clients ate the stuff, but she'd rather have steak, raw and bloody, and ideally paid for by someone else.

A rubbery shaft extended outwards from the device, at her waist level - she could see that it had a small hole on the tip, and looked remarkably like a smooth dildo, fat and long. Beneath it, there was a hole, about the size of her head, with water shining inside.

She looked at the thing with distrust, lightly touching the prong, feeling the slightly rubbery surface. Her stomach growled again, making her feel weak. How did she get food out of it? She tried rubbing the shaft, but that didn't do anything. The screen wasn't showing anything, not giving any guidance. What was she meant to do? Although it was cock-shaped, and fucking it wouldn't do much, which left...

With a sigh, she dropped to her knees and gently kissed the tip. It had a faintly sweet taste, as though it had been covered with sugar-water, just enough to perk her up and make her even hungrier. With the thing between her lips, it felt like a real cock, warm and stiff but soft, and she flicked her tongue around the end.

A pump started up within the device, brrring into life. It was doing something! She started to suck more vigorously, taking it deeper into her mouth, sucking with her lips and cheeks. She didn't like deep-throating, the way it made her throat ache and made it impossible to talk, but this wasn't the first time that she'd sucked a cock. About half of the length was now in her mouth, her hands on her knees as she twisted her head around the shaft, the pump sound getting louder. Her nails lightly prickled her knees, as she kissed and sucked. She tried to ready herself, in case it suddenly spurted over her, still kissing and licking it, making sure not to push herself too hard - she didn't want to make her eyes water and ruin her makeup! Or have it splatter over her outfit - it was an expensive label, and walking around looking like she had been splattered with cum wouldn't help anything! Well, unless the audience were into that sort of degradation, but she definitely wasn't herself. She wanted to be tended on hand and foot!

Ayaka started to push herself deeper onto the cock, the rumbling hunger of her belly getting more intense, saliva flowing around her mouth. She needed to eat and drink, even if it needed doing this.

As the tip of the cock bumped against the back of her throat, the pump surged, and a gritty paste flowed into her mouth. It was wet and salty, the cock-shaft starting to shift back and forth by itself. She had to bob her head in time in order to keep it in her mouth, her lips forced open around it, swallowing and gulping in order to keep her mouth from overflowing. There wasn't any way to disengage without it all spilling out, so she had to keep sucking the thing off.

'Mphh!' There didn't seem to be any way to turn the thing off now that it was going, the paste flowing into her mouth. It was a struggle to swallow fast enough to keep it from overflowing, the stuff flowing into her mouth, the paste cold and slimy. Couldn't they at least make it taste nice, or heat it? It didn't even taste like cum, but was just gross and sticky. If any of it leaked out, then it would probably stain her clothing!

When she tried to pull her head back, it pushed back, moving with her - there didn't seem to be any retreat possible! It was getting faster now as well, forcing her to keep pumping her head back and forth or risk a leak, her body warming up. Why the hell was this turning her on? She liked being eaten out, having a tongue sliding into her own slit, rather than being forced to suck off someone else! But the warmth was growing between her thighs, even as her mouth was impaled, again and again. It was pushing into her throat now, making her cough and splutter, interrupting her breathing, her hands formed into tense fists, nails prickling her palms.

She kept swallowing, feeling the unpleasant gunk filling her belly, the coolness of the paste coiling around the rising heat from between her legs, one of her hands sliding over her bare thighs. If she ever got her hands on that Princess-bitch, she'd redden their butt enough that they wouldn't be able to sit down for a day! Or do something worse, if she could!

The pumping got even more vigorous, making her splutter and cough. It was moving faster than she could feel, a long rope of cream-coloured spittle joining her mouth to the now-glistening cock before it slammed forward, penetrating her mouth and throat. It stayed lodged forward, the flow of paste now a gush, before stopping, keeping her impaled and stuck in place.

Even after it stopped, Ayaka had to stay impaled or risk dribbling the stuff everywhere, gulping and trying to swallow it all down, staying there until her mouth was empty except for the cock-shaft. Was this how she had to eat now?

She breathed around the cock, recovering her strength before slowly withdrawing. The taste of the stuff was thick on her tongue, scent oozing up her throat and into her nostrils, making her want to wash it out. Ayaka cupped a hand beneath the shaft before slowly pulling backwards, sucking as she went, kissing the prong, twisting her head side-to-side to clear off her spit, now mingled with the paste.

She managed to disengage without any spillages, although having to kiss-clean the shaft so thoroughly left her feeling dirty, even as the cock itself was spit-shiny. When she went to the kitchen tap and turned it, nothing came out, no matter how she twisted it. She slammed a fist against the tap, before turning back to the device - beneath the cock, there was the large hole, water glistening inside. Was this the only way to get water?

She had to drop onto all fours, the cock-shaft above her, hoping it wouldn't drip or spurt onto her, and pushed her head forward, into the hole. It was dark, the metal surroundings echoing her breathing into a weird sound, a pool of water beneath her. Having to drink from the ground, like some kind of dog! She'd get that princess and shove the brush into their asshole! She had to kneel on all fours, her head within the box, lapping at the pool of water, slurping up the cool liquid.

She felt liquid splat across her back, soaking into her blouse, trying to withdraw from the box, banging the back of her head against the metal and cursing. She could feel cold goop soaking into her blouse, vile and clammy as it settled over her skin. When she sat up, it slimed down her back. The cock spurted again, spraying down her front, catching her in the chest, white paste sliding down her cleavage. She stood, getting another spray on her skirt, white stains soaking into the expensive material.

Ayaka backed away, the goop already starting to crust and dry. It felt gross between her breasts, cold and clammy. Brushing the stuff off her skirt left dirty white smears that made it look like she had been jizzed on! She growled, her cunt twitching with soft pain from the self-inflicted spanking. That bitch would pay! But first she needed clean clothing, unless she wanted to be cum-splattered all day.

When she returned to the bedroom and tried to open the closet door, it didn't budge. She strained harder, frustration boiling through her veins, feeling her nails flex, on the verge of breaking before she stopped. She wasn't allowed to get changed? The paste was curdling in her stomach, thick and heavy, and she tried to scrape off the stuff between her breasts, not caring when she scratched her skin.

That Princess bitch would pay for this! Now everyone would be seeing her, cum-stained and gasping, her makeup running slightly. Ayaka growled, hands tensing, nails digging into her palms, trying to supress the bitter needles of cold shame.

 

About the Author and Artist

Melissa DuVant writes a variety of BDSM-inspired stories, such as Digital Slave and is one of the co-writers of the St Michael's University setting. When not writing, she is generally planning RPG campaigns, reading or cooking.

 

The cover was created by Formant. He is a web artist, specializing in the harsher side of fetish and kink.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Studying Submission Preview: Chapter Eight: Dominance Play

Madison has been sent to an isolated finishing school by her step-mother, to train her to be "feminine" and "proper". Upon arrival, she finds that it's rougher and more brutal than she expected, and finds herself stripped naked and paraded through the halls on her first day! Assigned Isabella as a "grande souer" to train and discipline her, she is swiftly collared and belted, threatened with torments if she misbehaves. Her choice is simple - to help Isabella and her clique torment other students or let herself become their victim. And so she is soon made to study, from both ends, the arts of submission!

 

The room was silent, even Regan quiet in her casket-crate. If she was in there - it was currently sealed, and Madison had no way of knowing if it was occupied, and didn't want to open it up just in case they escaped or attacked. She leaned against the wall, lifting up her skirt, and feeling along the metal frame of the chastity belt. Even when she tried to reach under the crotch-panel, it was so tight that there was no way to get around it! Even the piss-slit wasn't big enough to admit more than the tip of a finger. She tried pushing her hips forward, able to make her nail brush against skin.

Even that light touch sent a thrill through her, making her body heating up, pussy getting slick. She strained, pushing her hips further forward, her finger scraping against the metal. She was willing to hurt herself if it meant getting off! But the metal wouldn't give, her finger-flesh scraping and scratching against it. She wanted more! She needed to get off! But there was no way to get through the metal. Even if she pulled down on the hip-band, that just made it push against her hip-flesh.

She growled in frustrated annoyance - it wasn't fair! No wonder everyone here was a psycho-bitch, if most of them couldn't get off, or needed to please a goddam grande souer to have any pleasure. Had Isabella once had to serve somebody? Maybe the President?

But she needed to get the belt off. Isabella had the key, but maybe there was a copy? Or something, just in case Isabella lost hers? The thought of being one mistake from being locked away permanently was terrifying - the clasp of the neck-chain falling open, then key lost somewhere, and then the only way to get the thing off would be, like, industrial cutters or something. She didn't want have powered saws or anything like that grinding away near her body!

She tilted her head, listening intently - from outside, some of the sounds of everyday life, or at least what was normal here, filtered through the thick walls, of students going about their business. The main door was locked, sealing her into the room, Isabella and the other two out somewhere. Not that they told her anything! But for once, she was free, rather than tied to her bed.

She'd spent a while exploring the main room, poking through the items on the shelves - some books, most of them in foreign languages, some containing scribbled notes that were also unreadable. Some broken and discarded torture implements - clamps with broken springs, gags with only half a strap, a crop that had split along the hitting-edge, some complicated thing of leather and metal that she didn't even want to touch, still grimy and smeared with some dried fluids.

All the furniture was old and rickety, completely mismatched - it looked like it had been assembled bit-by-bit, collected together from whatever other people had discarded. The only thing that was new-looking was the casket, where the edges weren't battered and dirty, the metal polished and somewhat clean.

There wasn't much of interest other than the casket, and she didn't want to go anywhere near that. Just thinking about being sealed inside, locked into the tiny, cramped space, made her shiver. And that was before having piss poured in! That was just gross. Even having to eat Isabella out wasn't as bad as that would be! If Regan was in there, she wasn't moving though, or maybe she was asleep?

She went to look inside Isabella's room, carefully turning the handle, wrapping her skirt around her hand to avoid leaving fingermarks on the worn brass.

Inside, everything was neat and tidy, although in scarcely better condition. The bed was made (although probably by one of the others), the desk was mostly bare, the only ornament a framed picture. Madison looked at it - it showed Isabella, the President and several other women, in tattered and ragged uniforms, in a snowy field. In front of them were several sets of stocks, turned the other way so that only the legs and backsides of the occupants were visible, those well-marked with lashes and welts. Isabella and the President were sat atop another woman, stripped entirely naked except for a hood and a collar, fat heavy metal even chunkier than the normal ones. Isabella's hand was wrapped in bandages, stained dark with something. They were smiling, looking pained but relieved - what was that about? Other than showing that she definitely had history with the President!

That wasn't what she was looking for though. The key! There had to be a copy of the key somewhere! She looked under the bed, finding nothing but a chest, too heavy to move out, the top not budging, as well as spare bedsheets and uniforms.

In the bedside table there was a dildo, a nice fat one. She stroked it, feeling herself twinge, wanting to push it into herself and fuck it to orgasm, but she couldn't because of the damn belt. Sets of handcuffs, several spare sets of gloves, a small bullet vibrator... But there weren't even keys for the cuffs, the metal bands locked around a wooden bar. More drawers held clothing - bra, panties, more uniforms, even some non-uniform outfits, right at the bottom, looking very unused.

Madison slammed the drawer shut with a growl. She needed to get off! But there was no key in here, and damaging Isabella's stuff would just get her in trouble.

She went back to the main room, cautiously approaching the casket. Had that been a faint rattle? Maybe Regan was inside it then. She knelt next to it, nervously tucking her skirt under her butt. She gently tapped a knuckle against the wooden lid, speaking softly.

'Regan? Are you in there?' Her heart started to race, ears sharp for any sound that might indicate the return of Isabella. There was a soft knocking sound back, something rattling against the inside of the casket.

Madison laid her palm against the outside of the box, trying to convey her feelings. If Regan could help her with Isabella, then maybe she would be able to get the key! It's not like Paisley or Leona would help, they were both too loyal to Isabella. She tapped her palm against the lid again, hearing a soft thump back.

'Would you like to help me against Isabella?'

There was a quick double-thump - they could hear her, at least.

'If I let you out, would you help me? Maybe we could tie her up?'

More rapid drumming, this time from both ends - that must be her feet flicking against the sides as well.

'Do you know how to hurt her, get her to tell us things?'

A single loud and definite thud.

'If I let you out, will you help me?'

Another thud.

'I'm going to open up the casket then.'

It was sealed with heavy metal clasps, Madison flicking them up, one after another, with heavy rattles. Hopefully the inside wasn't currently filled with gross-smelling piss! She unlocked the last latch, sliding her hands into a niche, ready to open up the lid.

It slammed open, the wood knocking against her forearms. An arm lunged out, grabbing her wrist and bringing it down, smacking it against the rim of the lid. Another hand grabbed the ring of her collar, and she caught a glimpse of Leona, glaring up at her. She tried to pull backwards, but the other woman was too strong, a foot flicking upwards, a shoed toe knocking into her ribs.

She tried to fight back, flailing with her own arms, trying to push them away. She heard the door click open, Isabella striding in, Paisley close behind her.

Madison froze in terror, her body going limp, Leona now dragging her up as she stood up herself.

'I'm disappointed, but I can't say I'm surprised.' Isabella flexed her hands inside her gloves, the leather dark and ominous. 'Loyalty can be hard in this place.' Her hand flashed forward, a back-handed slap catching Madison across the cheek. 'Everyone needs a little breaking in, before learning their place. Maybe, in time, you might be able to improve your station? But for now, you're just a bitch.' Another slap, making Madison's cheek throb from the impact.

Isabella grabbed her jaw and squeezed, slowly forcing Madison's mouth opening, reaching in and grabbing her tongue with the other hand, leather soft, tasting of Isabella. She pulled, forcing the tongue to stretch out, making it ache as it was pulled out.

'I could put this in metal. Or bind it behind leather. Or maybe just break you in some other way.' She pulled harder on the tongue, making Madison's eyes water in pain. 'Or you could prove yourself and loyal. Then you might be allowed some more freedom, rather than more punishment.'

'Mphhh!' Having her tongue gripped made it impossible to speak, and Isabella's grip was painfully tight, crushing her skin. She wanted to apologize but couldn't, unable to properly move her lips with the fingers in the way.

'I'd rather not have another stupid bitch to punish, so I'm going to give you a chance. Paisley, go and get Regan.' She gave Madison's tongue a tug, making her grunt in pain as she was pulled forward. Paisley stepped around them, heading into Isabella's room. There was a heavy scraping, wood-on-stone. Isabella kept her grip of Madison's tongue, letting go of her jaw and grabbing at a tit. 'For as long as you are here, you are mine. Believe me, I'm better than the alternative. But you will obey me, unless you want to become another dumb fuck-slut, to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. And at the moment, I don't think you'd even be worth that much.'

Her fingers dug into the breast, squeezing and crushing, as Paisley dragged Regan in. They were chained up, metal chains linking their neck, wrists, waist and ankles, not long enough to let them properly stand up, her mouth forced open with a fat ball-gag, spit staining her chin. She was naked except for the chains and the collar, struggling against the chains and Paisley's grip, a slight dusting of pubic hair around her slit. On her belly, just to the side of her navel, was a sear-scar, a heart-shape burned into her skin at some point.

'Now, you have a choice. You can either lower yourself to Regan's level, become a dumb, tied-up pain-slut...' Regan wriggled and grunted, still trying to throw off Paisley's grip. '...or you can join me. Help me break Regan, torment the only person that might be your ally, and accept that you're going to belong to me while you're here.'

Regan was dragged over to the wall, the chains thrown over a hook on the wall, Regan unable to twist them off, clacking and clinking, more spit bubbling out from beneath her gag.

'Would you like to be chained up like that? Used and abused? Or would you like to truly be one of my petite soueres, with some greater freedoms. But you will be mine, obedient and loyal.' She used the grip on Madison's tongue to pull her forward, closer to the struggling Regan. 'Well? Which will it be?' The fingers on Madison's breast stopped squeezing, not stroking her through the uniform. 'Bitches don't get clothing, they have to go naked. petite soueres get to wear clothing, and I might even permit some pleasure. And it's better to hurt than be hurt, isn't it?'

Her fingers were strong and warm, Madison's nipples getting stiff from the light stroking.

'So - will you be mine, or will you be a bitch?' She gave Madison's tongue a final tug before letting go, letting tapping Madison's cheek with spit-stained fingers.

Regan was twisting against the wall, trying to shield the vulnerable parts of her body, her skin already marked by the lash. The chains were short enough that they couldn't move their hands to properly protect themselves, their body open and vulnerable.

'You're going to be mine, aren't you? You're going to be mine. Sweet and obedient. Isn't that right, little Madison?'

The words made Madison shiver, Isabella's voice smooth and confident. Madison found it a struggle to respond, her tongue fat and slow, still suffering from being squeezed.

'I... Please...'

'I need an answer, Madison. Otherwise you'll be going into the casket, to help train you.'

Madison turned to look at the now-open casket, cramped and confined, ready to seal around someone, locking them into the darkness, managing to get the strength to murmur back an answer. 'I'll do it.'

'Louder. Let Regan hear you.'

'I'll do it! Let me hurt Regan! I want to be your petite souere!'

'Good girl. Now, take this.'

A riding crop was thrust at her, handle-first, and Madison took it, her grip tightening it. Having something in hand made her feel better, a rare sense of power. She flicked it through the air, hearing the crisp thwip.

'Now use it.' Isabella let go of Madison's breast and moved around behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist, pressing against her from behind, breasts squashing against Madison's back. With her other arm, she took hold of Madison's wrist, holding it up, lifting the crop. 'Nice and strong and firm!' She moved Madison's arm, making the crop flick forward.

It struck against Regan's breast, deforming the pert mound, making it shake about. Regan moaned, trying to twist away, without success. Madison flicked her wrist again, more forcefully this time, drawing strength from having Isabella behind her. The impact made Regan squeal in pain sent pleasure rippling through her, warmth building up in her core. Another strike to their belly provoked an even louder grunt.

'Good. If you ever disobey me again, then what I've done to Regan will seem gentle in comparison. You will do anything I say, and be loyal to me, until you are taken from here.' She nuzzled against Madison's neck, a strong, gentle kiss, still holding her around the waist. Madison leaned back against her, glad of the support, warm against the belt, striking Regan again. 'Say it.' Lips stroked up her neck, breaking contact before kissing her ear, tongue sliding out to lick at flesh.

Madison murmured, Isabella's grip tight around her, the arm tightening around her waist. Teeth nibbled her ear, Isabella whispering now, low and sultry. 'Swear it, petite souere. Become mine.'

'Mmm...' She flicked her wrist, Regan squealing from the impact, a red mark appearing on her tit. 'I... I will, grande souer Isabella... Let me... serve...' Isabella's leg was between hers, pushing her thighs apart.

'Good. Now you need to prove yourself. You need to make sure Regan knows her place.'

Madison swung the crop forward again, this time knocking it against the brand-mark, right on the hip-bone, leather slapping on skin.

'That's good. But not enough. Paisley, warm her up.'

Isabella continued to kiss Madison, sweet, gentle kisses on her ear, back down to her neck, letting go of her hand and stroking her breasts, hand dropping between Madison's legs and pulling on the belt. Madison whimpered as it pulled against her slit, making her even hornier. 'Please...'

'Shhh. Regan first, and then maybe a treat for my new petite souer.'

Paisley had dropped to her knees, and was licking and fingering Regan, pulling them around whenever they tried to wriggle away, pinching and prodding them. They snarled from behind their gag, as Isabella kept stroking Madison's body. She relaxed against them, taking refuge from Regan's gagged snarls, although she was fighting her own arousal, pleasure soon glistening between her thighs, along with Paisley's spit.

'You're going to hurt Regan. Show her where she is, and that she's at the very bottom of the pile. She's your bitch, to hurt and command.'

Isabella let go of Madison, who had to struggle to stay standing, her legs weak and wobbly. What was she meant to do? Just hit her with the crop again?

'Take this.' A dildo was produced, already slicked with something, giving off an acrid and peppery smell. 'Don't get it in your eyes!'

Regan's eyes went wide, fixing on the cock, her shoulders pushing against the wall, trying to grind through it, chains clattering. Her hands went into tight fists, pulling on the chains, trying to shove Paisley away, but without enough reach.

'Npphhh! Nphhh!'

Madison held the thing out, seeing desperate spit ooze out from behind Regan's gag. Paisley shuffled aside, opening up access to Regan.

'Show her fear and pain. Make her suffer. And then I'll give you a treat.'

Madison advanced, kneeling between Regan's legs. They tried to close them, but she slapped and pinched a thigh, making them squeal in pain. The sound shot through her, making her heart race, her focus narrowing on the slit ahead of her. As well as the bitter scent of whatever coated the dildo, she could smell Regan's desire. She slapped their cunt, making them grunt in pain, before parting the folds with her fingers.

'Suffer!' Madison spat the word with as much venom as she could manage, pushing the dildo into them. They were already so wet that it slid in with ease, aided by whatever slicked the prong.

Regan tensed up, her sounds changing to a high-pitched keening whine, her chest now moving in brief gasps and pants. Madison twisted the cock inside of them, leaning forward and carefully touching it with her tongue.

Searing heat assaulted her, making her eyes sting, a bitter acrid taste overlaid with an intense burning sensation. It made her cheeks heat up, her mouth filling with spit.

'I suppose you should try and come, to make it hurt less.' She eased it back and forth, twisting and spinning it, making sure to smear the juice all over their walls and folds, pushing it deeper and deeper into them.

Something splashed onto Madison's head - a thick splat of spit, falling down from behind Regan's gag.

'Dirty bitch!'

She gave the cock a savage wrench, Regan moaning into her gag, still struggling against her chains. Her body was starting to shine with sweat now, forced into a fever by the burning-hot juice now smeared all over her insides. Even with the gross spit in her hair, having Regan squirm and twist in agony, unable to escape, was powerful, making her brain fuzz. If she couldn't touch herself, then at least she could have power over others! Making Regan suffer pain and agony was a pleasure by itself, even if her own pussy was still locked behind metal.

'You deserve this!' Another twist, Regan now moaning in agony, her legs dancing about, out of control.

'Good. Now this.' A hand touched her shoulder, Isabella's voice smooth and commanding. She passed over a metal bulb with a lump on one end, well-coated with more of the same substance. Although Isabella was wearing gloves, Madison wasn't, and couldn't evade getting some of the stuff onto her fingers. 'You'll need to shove it into her arse.'

Regan's whimpered were desperate and pathetic now, not even an attempt at words, just empty mewling. With one hand still keeping the dildo held in, Madison reached between Regan's legs, pushing the metal lump between their buttocks and sliding it around until she found the tight pucker of their asshole. Regan tried to resist, but Madison kept pushing, forcing it against the ring, slowly pushing it into them.

It passed a point, suddenly getting sucked into them. Regan was now hanging limply, only supported by her wrists, body wracked with pants, gleaming with sweat. Madison pinched their thighs, trying to draw out more satisfying gasps and groans, reaching up to poke and prod their belly, twisting at the flesh of the heart-brand.

She stood up, staring at Regan's barely-open eyes, grabbing their breasts and squeezing the nipples, crushing them between her fingers. Their eyes were barely open, empty of any coherence, tears trickling from her eyes, snot oozing from her nose.

Isabella embraced her from behind, taking her in a tight hug, pinning her arms in place. 'Good girl. Good petite souer. Now for your reward.'

She was pulled away from the suffering Regan, the dildo slowly sliding out of their body, their pussy red and inflamed. She was pulled and twisted around, then shoved down into a chair, her legs dragged up to rest on the arm-chairs, her crotch now fully presented, feeling hot and wet behind the belt. She wanted to be touched down there!

All three of them looked down at her, potent and powerful, with Isabella at the front, tightening her gloves. She reached into her cleavage, pulling out the key, Madison whimpering in desperate desire. 'Please! Please... Please...' She didn't care that she was begging, she just wanted to get off!

'Say my name and beg. Know your place, petite souer.'

'Grande souer Isabella! Please...'

Isabella moved between her legs, holding the key up. It was the only thing Madison could see, focusing on the shiny metal nub, pulling her skirt back to enable full access to her belt.

'Please! I... I'll obey. I'll do anything... Please?'

The key moved forward, Madison focusing on it, willing it forward as it slid into the lock. It turned, metal clicking and unlocking, some of the pressure against her body lessening, as Isabella pulled away the crotch plate.

The scent of herself made her feel woozy, her desire now starkly apparent. She started to move her arms, wanting to stroke herself, but Isabella shook her head.

'...Please...?'

Isabella placed a possessive hand on Madison's soft, wet pussy, gloved fingers lightly tracing around the edge of Madison's mound. She pushed her hips forward, wanting those warm fingers inside of her, rubbing and stroking.

'Beg, my petite souere.'

'Please! Just let me... please touch me, please, please...' Her thoughts were a scrambled, chaotic mess, her legs spread, her body desperately yearning for more stimulation. 'I'll be good, I'll obey you! Just, please...'

A finger slid into her, her insides clenching up around it, trying to drag it further into her.

'Yeessssss...'

'I'll treat my girls well, but if you ever disobey, then I will break you.'

Madison barely heard Isabella, pulsing and twitching her hips, trying to get more of the finger inside of herself. She'd rather have a fat cock, but this was the first stimulation since coming here! She was on the edge of cumming already, just from the light penetration.

The finger slid out of her, leather dark with Madison's juices. Isabella held it up to Madison's face, and the scent of her own juices made her even more dazed. Her tongue slid from her mouth, licking at the leather, tasting the salt-sweet flavor. The finger moved back, Isabella putting a finger-tip between her teeth, biting down to pull the glove back, revealing Isabella's hand. On the back was a messy burn-scar, a vague and imprecise heart-mark, smeared across the skin.

When Isabella's bare hand touched her skin, she whimpered and mewled, the contact electric and hot, fingers melting into her, gently massaging her skin. Two fingers slid into her, and her back arched, pulling them deeper into her pussy, wet and ready.

'Are you going to come for me, my petite souere?'

'Mphhhh... Yes!'

The fingers twirled into her, twisting around, pushing against her walls. She was beyond making any coherent words now, just panting and mewing. They touched against her soft, sensitive nub, and then a third finger pushed into her.

'Euphhhh...'

'While you're in such a compliant mood, the headmistress has some paperwork I need you to sign.' The fingers slowed, making her whine in desperation, wanting them to continue, wanting to get off.

'Mphhh...' She couldn't speak, her focus entirely between her legs, gently twitching her hips in the hopes of further stimulation.

'Sign, and then I might let you have what you want.'

Papers, covered with tiny and dense legal writing, appeared in front of her face, words vaguely readable. "Power of attorney". "Waiving legal rights". "Complete control".

'Looks pretty serious stuff - I guess someone wants to make sure you're not independent when you get out of here?'

'Ah!' Isabella spread her fingers, pushing them against Madison's walls, making her squirm about. Someone grabbed her hand and pushed a pen into place, closing her fingers around it. An image of her step-mother flashed through her mind - would this allow her more control? But she couldn't think, not with the orgasm so close, needing just a little more, just a little...

Isabella pulled her hand out, leaving Madison's pussy throbbing and empty.

'Ple....'

'Sign.' A hand pulled her arm up, moving it towards the paper, her fingers weak, just barely holding the pen. A finger lightly tapped against her slit, lightly sliding in, but then not moving.

She found the strength somehow to move her hand, scribbling the ink against the page, leaving a set of squiggles that bore some loose resemblance to her name.

'Good girl.'

The finger slid in, then two more, thrusting easily in and out. Just a small amount more stroking and rubbing and she was at her peak, hot and desperate. Her pussy gripped the fingers, keeping them there as the orgasm slammed into her. Her vision blurred, hands gripping onto the arm-rest, tightly enough to make her fingers ache. It felt so good! Her consciousness wavered, loosing track of whatever Isabella was saying and Regan's pained whimpers, the fingers still stroking inside of her, keeping her warm and relaxed as she slipped away into a dull haze.