EXTRACT FOR
Unfree Volume 5: Golden Cages
(Melissa DuVant)
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Unfree Volume 5: Golden Cages Melissa DuVant Copyright © Melissa DuVant The right of Melissa DuVant to be identified as the
author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of
the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic
mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or
retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. All characters in this book have no existence
outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any
individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure
invention. Table of Contents Chapter Two: Evening's Entertainment Chapter Three: Disposing of Baggage Chapter Four: Learning From Another's Experience Chapter Five: An Elder's Teachings Chapter Seven: Direct Involvement Chapter Eight: A Forcefully Pleasant Night Miss Carolina and Her Guide-Maid Chapter One: A Lady and Her Maid Chapter Two: A Surprising Performance Chapter Four: An Unwanted Meeting Chapter Five: A Forced Meeting Chapter Seven: An Arrangement of Mutual Benefit Chapter Three: Tending to Business Chapter Four: An Unwilling Hire Chapter Five: An Unwilling Performance Prisonette's Dilemma Preview Chapters Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter One: An Uneasy Meeting Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter Two: Response Required For all my readers - thank you! The carriage rolled through the night, Harriet pulling the blind slightly open - outside, nothing was visible except darkness, the moon a ghostly glow up in the sky. She stamped her foot on the ground, feeling bored. She'd been promised this trip would be exciting! But it was probably just to see another boring aunt or other rural relative, moldering away in distant rustication. 'We'll be there soon.' Harriet let the blind drop down, sealing the carriage from the outside world again, the internal space lit only by a flickering lantern that dangled from the ceiling, rolling and swaying around. 'I know it must have been rather frustrating and boring at the boarding school. But now you are a woman, it is my job, as your sister-in-law, to ensure that you are well trained in everything that you need to know for society. Soon, you will have your first ball, and be a debutante, but until then, there are certain matters that you need to be trained in.' Georgina didn't look up from her book, turning the page with a dry rasp. From the side beside her came a metallic clinking, the other person in the carriage sliding to the side as they hit a bump, only kept in place by the metal chain locked to the leash around her neck. Although she was wearing a maid's uniform, it was hard to make out beneath the leather straps and harnesses wrapped around her, belts and cords keeping her arms behind their back, ankles tightly bound, a canvas sack on her head. 'It will also be a chance to dispose of this one.' Still without looking up, Georgina reached out and grabbed a breast, squeezing it with her gloved hand, the grunting getting more pained. 'It will be a chance to dispose of Juliana. She came from a fine house, so I was hoping that she would be better trained, but has been nothing more than a disappointment.' She squeezed the small breast again, before withdrawing her hand, then looked up at Harriet, the lantern-light gleaming off her pale skin and auburn hair. 'Yes, Georgina.' 'I know that we didn't meet before I married your brother, but I do hope that we can be friends. Especially when we're away from home - please regard me as a friend.' She put the book aside, before reaching into her purse and pulling out several items. 'Now, the place we are going to is something of a special place - more than just an inn to rest at, but it does have certain rules.' She held up a mask, a stiff black curve edged with lace, small gleaming motes glued across the front. 'You must wear this while present. Being mistaken for one of the staff would be... unpleasant. You may remove it in your room, but otherwise, you should remain masked. It will also help to preserve your reputation.' She handed it over, Harriet taking it, stroking her fingers over it - it was shaped from leather, soft and dark, and she put it on, adjusting it on her face, the thing limiting her vision slightly. 'Excellent!' When she looked up, Georgina was wearing a similar mask, her eyes shining brightly from behind the leather. It made her look beautiful and alluring, making Harriet even more aware of her youth and clumsiness. Why couldn't she be as tall and charming as Georgina was? No wonder Henry had married her so fast - almost indecently fast. 'Anyone with a hood is property, that you can use as you wish. Those with collars have an owner, although you may be able to borrow them, if you ask.' She turned to the bound maid, plucking off the canvas hood, to reveal a small, pretty face, cheeks distorted by fabric, lips sealed by a cloth gag, dark hair bouncing around. Then she pulled a leather hood into place, squashing the hair out of the way, tucking the bottom into the woman's collar. It had holes for the eyes and mouth, although with the gag in place, there was little Juliana could do other than grunt. 'Those that are un-hooded are employees - they are available for use, but are owned by the house. They are very talented at what they do though, and I hope you will make the most of this experience. Being at that boarding school has probably taught you some things, but skimped over certain key skills.' The carriage rolled to a stop, crunching over gravel. The door on the far side opened up, cool night air rolling in, as Harriet shifted nervously in her seat. Georgina got up and stepped outside, a hand taking hers and helping her down, Harriet moving to follow. As she moved, she could see that there was a raised stone platform, made so travelers could step out of a carriage without having to worry about mud. An arm, strong and powerful, wrapped around her waist, lifting her off her feet and pulling her from the carriage. She yelped, suddenly blinded as her mask moved around, covering her eyes, completely powerless and out of control until she was put down again, tweaking it back into place, hearing Georgina laugh. 'Be gentle with her, Tom! This is her first time.' The person that had lifted her was huge, his broad chest bare to the night air, distracting her from whatever he rumbled back, suddenly aware of how close he was, and how overpoweringly strong he must be. 'Bring the maid to our chambers as well. I have a buyer arranged, and it will be a relief to get rid of her.' 'Yes, Lady Black.' He bowed, smooth and courteous, despite his size. Her vision dropped down, and she tried not to gasp at the bulge in his tight trousers - that had to be padding, didn't it? His thing couldn't be that large? 'This way.' Harriet trailed after Georgina, feeling slow and awkward, in contrast to the smooth swaying of Georgina, her dress flicking around her legs, dress tight against her buttocks, body trim and firm within her corset. Inside, everything was darkly luxurious - lit only by low lanterns, casting a dull orange glow over polished mahogany, glass-framed pictures she couldn't make out, and metal and leather curves and lines on the walls. But Georgina seemed to know where she was going, Harriet following behind, struggling to keep up, not wanting to gawp as they walked down wood-paneled passageways. There was movement, red fabric appearing from a cross-junction, a young woman stepping into view, bare-faced, a long chemise clinging to every curve. She turned to see them, dropping into a curtsey and pulling on her clothing, making it cling even more tightly to her body. Georgina gestured at her to continue, Harriet trying not to gasp. Was the woman in her night-clothes? Where she might be seen by others! The thought made Harriet's body tingle and warm up, her own clothing suddenly seeming far too tight and restrictive. But she followed along behind her sister-in-law, past several doors, until they reached one that had a brass number "6" on it, which Georgina pushed open. Inside was a large, comfortable-looking inn room, with a fire roaring in the hearth, the room already warm. The bed was huge and soft-looking, a four-poster with a canopy above. Some of the decorations on the wall Harriet didn't recognize - there was a large X-shape, made from two sturdy planks of wood, with shiny straps at each end of the X. Riding crops were in a pot by the fire, and what looked like a cage was in the corner, partially hidden beneath a blanket. A key was on the side, which Georgina took. Along one wall was a series of holes, the edges carefully sanded and smoothed away, a bell-pull just above them, cushions of the floor there, for some reason. 'As your elder, I need to teach you certain things. I went to a boarding school similar to your own, which can lead to certain... passions... that it is best not to pursue in public. This is a rather blunt question, but are you a virgin?' Harriet felt herself blush, a sharp heat prickling her cheeks. 'Yes! Although some of the girls at school used to... fool around, but...' 'Good. You're a beautiful young woman, and shouldn't have to settle for less than the best of matches.' Georgina stepped forward, almost a head taller than Harriet, looking down at her with a smile, mysterious and beautiful with the mask on. She took Harriet's chin in her hand, using it to tilt Harriet's head upwards, smiling as she looked down, before kissing her, full on the lips. Confusion and lust swirled into being within Harriet, Georgina lips sweet and soft, a taste that she couldn't describe. She felt a hand press against her stomach, pushing against the panels of her corset, as Georgina broke the kiss. 'There are certain skills you will need to learn before your debut, and that it is easier, and more pleasurable to learn in the right environments.' She kissed Harriet again, who stumbled forward, feeling weak and dazed, letting herself be led towards the holes in the wall. 'Sadly, now I am married, I cannot fully participate, but I feel it is my duty to tutor you. Now, onto your knees.' Harriet was struggling to stand to begin with, folding downwards, dropping her knees onto the cushions, her chest feeling tight and compressed, heart fluttering in her chest. What was going on? But the taste lingered on her lips, a stirring between her legs as parts of her body relaxed. Georgina grabbed the dangling cord and pulled it down - was she calling for a servant? She could hear movement through the holes, and a moment later, a large and fat thing, looking like a sausage, but pale pink rather than cooked brown-and-grey, poked through the wall. It had a scent she didn't recognize, but it made her feel even more dazed, the strange, wet feeling between her legs. 'I... What is this?' Georgina stroked her hand through Harriet's hair, her touch warm and comforting. 'Shhh, don't worry. Just let me teach you, as I wish I had been taught.' Her hand stroked around, beneath Harriet's chin, lightly squeezing her jaw. 'Now, to begin with, lick. Nice and gentle.' Harriet's mouth fell open, her tongue probing the air. It touched against the flesh, the thing shockingly warm, tasing clean and fresh. She ran her tongue along it, leaving a shimmering trail of tongue-spit along the length. It was stiff and firm, pleasingly so. 'Good. I was worried that you might cry or run away.' Georgina kept her grip on Harriet, one hand on her chin, the other on the back of her head, fingers firmly pressing against the back of her skull. 'It is a relief to know that you have an instinct for this.' Harriet felt herself salivating, and an increasing warmth between her legs. When she tensed her thighs, it sent a ripple of pleasure through her, making her want more pressure down there. She licked the shaft again, letting Georgina guide her head to leave another wet trail, before her head was pushing downwards, so that she was licking at the underside. It was so big that it knocked against her forehead, fat and meaty, a strange, but pleasurable, feeling tingling up through her belly, making her feel lightheaded. 'Good girl, good girl.' Georgina took a position behind her, Harriet able to feel the larger woman's corseted breasts against her own back, pressing the cords and stays of her corset against her. She let her head be guided and steered, feeling the heat washing out from the fleshy tube, wanting to taste more of it. Her head was pulled backwards, and she had to stretch her tongue out as far as it would go to lick at the tip, flicking her tongue over the slit, the thing twitching as she did so, making her giggle. 'Good. Now kiss it - nice and gently! Lips only, no teeth.' Her head was pushed forward, Harriet obeyed, kissing the tip, rubbing her lips on it, still using her tongue to lick around, taking it into her mouth. The more of it she took into her mouth, the more intoxicating the taste grew, fuzzing her thoughts. 'Tighten your lips, suck in with your cheeks.' The thing filled her, brushing against the top of her mouth, and every time she inhaled, the taste and scent of it flooded her senses, dazing her even more. When she sucked in, still licking and rubbing with her tongue, was that a groan she heard from the other side of the wall? Georgina was guiding her now, making her head rock back and forth, the length of the shaft sliding in and out. 'I think taking it deeper might be more than you can manage for now, but you seem enthusiastic.' Harriet let her head be pushed back and forth, taking the shaft a little deeper each time, kissing at it, feeling it getting wetter and easier to slide around, before her head was pulled fully back. She kissed at the tip again, nuzzling with her lips, lost in a daze, then opened her mouth wide as Georgina squeezed her jaw, getting pushed deeper, her throat getting impaled. She had to struggle to stay relaxed, not wanting to cough or make a mess, the thing now in her throat, rather than just her mouth. Georgina continued to make soothing sounds, soft and reassuring, still keeping a tight grip on her head. Suddenly, the thing twitched, tensing up within her mouth, and shot out a load of thick, creamy paste, flowing over her tongue. The taste of clean skin was suddenly replaced, the stuff filling her mouth, making her choke and cough, Georgina pulling her head back. 'Don't swallow yet!' She was twisted around, Georgina kissing her, tongue sliding into Harriet's mouth, twisting around her own. The larger woman kissed her, deep and hard, the creamy stuff mingling with spittle, flowing and swirling together. Harriet was struggling not to faint, her clothing feeling far too tight and restrictive, binding her body, her breasts squashed and compressed. One of Georgina's hands dropped down, stroking over Harriet's body, slow and gentle, before she broke the kiss, smiling down at her. The tube was shrinking away now, before getting pulled away, disappearing away to the other side of the hole. Harriet's heart was pounding, her thoughts in a whirl as Georgina kissed her again, slower now, their bodies pressing together. 'You seem to have a natural talent! Good - that will make things easier.' Harriet swallowed, the sticky fluid getting gulped down her throat, filling her stomach. She couldn't manage to talk, her mind swallowed in confusion, the pressure between her legs meltingly hot. 'That is just the first lesson. I'm sure you will have a lot of fun here!' Georgina kissed her again, holding it this time, her face and body pressed tightly against Harriet, robbing her of any ability to talk, or even think. Chapter Two: Evening's Entertainment Harriet let herself relax against Georgina, taking comfort in the other woman's closeness, feeling warm and fuzzy inside, the taste of the white fluid strong in her mouth still. The pleasing embrace was suddenly broken as the door opened, wood scraping, along with feminine grunting, Georgina speaking. 'Put her on the cross. I may as well give her a final punishment. It's what she deserves.' Harriet opened her eyes, seeing a large man carrying their luggage in, as well as Juliana, getting dragged by the neck, a chain-leash attached to her collar. Despite that, and the cloth wadding around her face, there was still defiance in her eyes, sparking when she glared at Harriet, who clinched away. She pushed herself against Georgina, getting a comforting stroke back. The luggage was carefully put down, before Juliana was manhandled across the room, unable to resist in her shiny high-heeled shoes, her hands cuffed behind her back. The spun her around, then shoved her against the cross, holding her there with one massive hand as he strapped a belt around her waist, then uncuffed her wrists and re-tied them to the arms of the "X", so they were held spread out and above her head. At some point, she had somehow managed to dislodge her hood, her face now bare. She kicked out, landing a solid strike against the man's shin, although he seemed to not even notice, as he bent over and grabbed an ankle, binding that in place, repeating the process on the other side. When he was done, she was spread out against the boards, only able to shake her arms around and move her neck. 'Thank you, Tom. That will be all.' He dipped his head, bowing at her, before leaving. Juliana grunted and wriggled in her restraints, the chains clicking as they stretched as far as they would go, sounding angry and frustrated behind her gag. 'Now, Harriet, sooner or later you will need to discipline your servants. Juliana here has been a naughty little slut - she's slipped her belt several times, and keeps distracting the footmen. We don't have enough guests for it to be worthwhile keeping her as full-time entertainment, so I will be selling here to this establishment. And then she will be their problem! But she needs some punishment first, and I can teach you how to do it. I assume you have seen others being punished?' Harriet shivered, remembering the cries of pain that came from those tied to the whipping post, their skin slashed by rough leather - although only the poorer girls, those that could endure the possibility of scars, were subjected to it. Not that the punishments that didn't leave marks had been any better! Plunged into cold water, or stretched out on the rack, and that was just the ones she had seen, the rumors and nighttime stories of the others were even more horrifying. Georgina went and got a whip, a heavy coil of leather which she unwound with practiced ease, the room long enough to allow for it. 'Go and hood Juliana first. My aim is sometimes a little off, and it will lower her value if I injure her face.' It took Harriet a few moments to find one, the leather well-worn. Juliana growled at her as she approached, tossing her head around, but she couldn't move enough to stop the leather coming down and blinding her, further sealing her mouth, her head now smooth and featureless, hair puffing out the bottom. 'Very good. Now, over here.' Georgina was stood half-a-dozen paces from the restrained Juliana, the whip still in hand. She gestured at Harriet to stand in front of her, handing the whip over. The handle was rough in her hand, already warmed by Georgina's hand. She pulled on it, feeling it twist and coil. 'Now, to start with, you want to keep your grip light - this is a task of flexibility and delicacy, not raw strength.' She wrapped her arms around Harriet from behind, pulling and dragging Harriet's body into position, raising an arm up and then rotating the whip, until the arced curve was angled behind them both. Having Georgina's body wrapped around her was warm and comfortable, despite the stiff lines of their corsets pushing together. Her breath was soft and warm, brushing against the back of Harriet's neck, making her shiver. 'You want to bring your hand forward as though you are using your thumb to push in a pin. Use that to guide the arc of the whip - forward, and then a stop. It will take a few tries to get the length of it, but I hope you will get the basics right.' She repositioned herself, standing off to the side, out of the way of any backswing. Juliana was still writhing in her bindings, twisting the tiny amount she could, her arms and legs both spread on the X. Harriet pushed her arm forward, trying to move it in a swift, single motion. The cord flicked forward, slicing through the air, but then falling through the air without any impact. 'More force. Don't be afraid to hit her - she's getting sold off anyway, and this place won't mind a few scratches.' Georgina pulled at Harriet's body, making her stand straighter up, twisting her arm again, the whip flopping around. Harriet took a deep breath, or at least as deep as she could when bound and constrained within the corset, the ribs pushing back in on her. Then she flicked her wrist again, guiding with the thumb as she had been instructed, the cord slicing forward. There was a weak crack as it reached the limit of the arc, before she flicked it back, feeling a sense of triumph. Juliana was still struggling against her restraints, unable to free herself at all. 'Good. Now, like that, but harder. And a little further forward. Try and hit her this time - feel the force conduct itself through the whip, and see if you can strip off any of her clothing.' An arm wrapped around Harriet's waist, steadying Harriet. She lashed out with the whip again, extending her arm a little further, leaning in with a shoulder, guiding it in with her thumb. This time there was a grunt from Juliana, a thin red welt appearing on the top of her breasts, where her dress didn't give her any coverage. 'Better. Now, a few more, and then I'll take over.' Harriet rolled her shoulder and wrist, rolling through a series of lash-strikes, managing to hit with more of them, even tearing away a thin strip of black fabric, feeling a thrill of success. Then Georgina took the whip from her, Harriet stepping aside. The whip cracked, with greater and more focused force. Juliana gasped in pain, the material covering one shoulder slicing open, torn asunder by the whip-crack, revealing her pale skin beneath, another red welt forming. Harriet tried to study the lines of Harriet's body, how she moved her shoulder and arm, her loose hair tumbling to her shoulders. Juliana's grunts and gasps got louder, her dress steadily getting ripped away, revealing bare breasts beneath, and a metal chastity belt locked around her crotch. Another whip-strike, this one close by her head, the leather-wrapped bundle flinching away. More welts appeared, over breasts and belly, a large one over the bone of Juliana's right hip. All she was wearing now were her stockings, held up by a suspender belt, and the tattered remnants of her dress, now doing little to disguise the curves of her body. 'You see? It takes time to practice, but you seem to have the basics down. You can practice some more.' Harriet tightened her fist, still able to feel the leather grip in her hand, the feeling of the moment of impact, the rush of power as it had hit, hearing Juliana's cry of pain, smiling at the memory. 'It looks like you're enjoying yourself.' Georgina's arm twisted around Harriet's waist, jerking her from her reverie. 'I find myself a little hungry - let us order some food. They keep an excellent chef on the premises.' She let Harriet go and walked over towards the back of the room, pulling on another knotted cord. A moment later, wood rattled, a small slot in the wall opening up, Harriet catching a glimpse of a hooded head, eyes sealed behind leather. Georgina spoke, listing food and wine, before closing the hatch herself. Miss Carolina and Her Guide-Maid Chapter One: A Lady and Her Maid Carolina kept her back straight, staring at the man, his arms crossed in front of him and barring her path. Everything else was a vague blur, a few candle-lights appearing as orange flickers, everything else impossible to see. She had to resist the urge to squint, to try and focus her vision, but didn't want to display any weakness. The man had no right to be so forward - he was boorish and aggravating! At least if he was who she thought he was - it sounded like Lord Sutherland, and the shape was similar, but it could be someone else. Hopefully not, though! She tugged on the leash, taking some comfort in the leather strap in her hand, pulling her maid close, able to more clearly see the stark black-and-white of the woman's uniform, along with the pale white-blonde hair, shaped into elaborate coils and braids. 'I find this place suddenly displeasing.' A wet moan came from behind her - something interesting-sounding was being done to one of the staff, but all she had been able to see of it was a pink, fleshy blob, smaller blobs spread out on a metal frame, likely the woman's limbs. 'I will leave you to your pleasures, and hope that you are better mannered when next we meet.' She stared at what she hoped was his face, keeping her face composed and even, attempting to radiate contemptuous chill. A tug on the leash made Rosa move, walking ahead of Carolina, and helping to make sure she didn't bump into anyone. She heard a grunt of indignation, smiling in satisfaction at having had the last word. Even in the low light, the white lines of Rosa's apron-ties made her easy to follow from behind, the low lights probably atmospheric and charming, at least for those that could see properly, but making everything blurry and dark for Carolina. And the mask on her face didn't help either, even if it did help cover some of her squinting. She moved with slow and steady grace, not sure if other people were around, lurking in the shadows. Instead, she cracked the leash, hearing Rosa splutter as her collar was drawn tightly around her neck. The halls and passages were all dark and identical-looking, with thick wooden paneling, and what she had been assured were erotic artworks, visible to her only as dull blobs. Rosa led the way, knowing where to go, what direction it was back to Carolina's room. Fortunately, it wasn't far, the thick rugs and carpets on the floor swallowing the sounds of her footsteps. Closed doors passed by, the metal numbers impossible to make out as anything more than low gleams, dim gaslights spread out at the corners. Rosa stopped, Carolina bumping into her, before there was the click of a key sliding into a lock, biting into place, and then the door opened. Inside, everything was warm and light, and she relaxed, knowing where things where - her bed was over there, and the metal bathtub was in front of it, steamy and warm. She relaxed with a sigh, letting the leash drop from her hand. Rosa moved in front of her, the mostly-black back of her uniform now showing off the white apron, and her pale face. A hand brushed against her shoulder, before suddenly grabbing at her throat, pulling her close as it tightened against her neck. Carolina felt her throat get squeezed, Rosa's narrow face coming into focus, neat and dark eyebrows above grey eyes. She pulled harder, dragging Carolina into a kiss, rough and fierce, sucking away her air, and Carolina felt herself buckle at the knees, needing the hand on her throat for support. 'I see that your attempt to be more polite didn't last long.' Carolina couldn't respond, her lips still warm from Rosa's forced kiss, getting pulled forward by her throat, towards the bathtub, feeling the steam rising up from it. She was off-balance now, Rosa easily pulling her around, despite being smaller, dragging her downwards. She dropped to her knees, her strength fading right next to the bathtub, the steam wisping on her face. Rosa let go of her throat, shifting grip to take hold of Carolina's hair, fingers sliding between strands, clips and pins getting torn out and moved, some splashing into the water. 'You are meant to be on your best behavior, but have, again, been a disappointment.' Carolina was down on her hands and knees, head over the water was Rosa pushed downwards, face breaking the surface of the water. She couldn't breathe, keeping her mouth closed, water splashing against her ears, her hearing going echoey and wet. Rosa was still saying something, but Carolina couldn't hear her, feeling her lungs start to throb and ache, before she was pulled upwards, and allowed to breathe again. Her hair was damp now, the styling that Rosa had worked on for so long now gone. 'Stand up.' There wasn't much chance to resist, with Rosa dragging her up by her hair, water dripping down from her head. 'Arms out.' Carolina obeyed, and strong, swift fingers started to remove her clothing, removing her long gloves first, peeling them off her arms. Then a hand grabbed her hair from behind, dragging her head back, another hand pressing against her mouth, shoving a leather ball into her mouth, sealing in some of the bath-water. She felt the strap tighten behind her head, making it impossible to dislodge, her tongue sliding over it. Fingers twisted against her back, finding the cords and fasteners on her dress, loosening them on her body. It was a relief to have the pressure lessen against her stomach and waist, although her lungs still ached from the dunking. Rosa's fingers were swift and sure, releasing Carolina from her clothing, pulling her dress off her body. Beneath it, she wore just a silk shift, impregnated with the heat and scent of her body. Rosa wrenched her head back, kissing her on the lips again, teasingly and frustratingly, the gag blocking the kiss. Carolina moaned in frustration, able to properly see Rosa's face now that she was close, having to move her head back or get her hair pulled out. The pain in her scalp was hot and urgent, her eyes fixing on Rosa's, as the other woman withdrew, lips curving into a smile. 'Mmmm...' Carolina mumbled into her gag, feeling her heart start to pound, Rosa keeping one hand tangled up in Carolina's hair, the other sliding beneath the shift, bare fingers smooth and warm against Rosa's belly, stroking upwards. 'Such a sharp tongue you have.' Fingers slid over a breast, cupping it, palm flat over the nipple, Carolina kept off-balance by the hand tangled in her hair, still in her heels. 'And so I have sealed it away. Maybe I will release it later.' The fingers suddenly pinched, squeezing at her nipple, hard enough to make her gasp. Her hair was released, making her stagger, as Rosa pulled the shift over her head, blinding her for a moment. Then a hand smacked against her bottom, making her gasp. Rosa was merciless tonight! A brief fondle, and then another slap her buttock starting to heat up. Rosa had moved behind her, fingers sliding along the lower curves of her body, and she could feel her body reacting, making her feel warm and giddy. The next spank was even harder, making her rock forward with a gasp of pain. Spittle was welling up in her mouth, and she had to tilt her head upwards to avoid dribbling. Fingers slid down her legs, untying her stockings, the silk flowing downwards, light touches stroking and teasing, before finding the buckles on her heeled boots and releasing them. As she pulled her feet from the shoes, putting them on the floor, she felt smaller, less powerful, now only slightly taller than Rosa. Nails scraped down her back, making her hiss in pain, leaning back into scratching points, feeling her spine curve. She had to fight to keep her arms straight, resisting the urge to cover herself up, before her suspender belt was pulled down, her stockings removed one at a time, leaving her completely naked. 'Into the bath.' Rosa's voice was tight and hard, Carolina obeyed, putting one foot into the tub. The water was hot, making her skin prickle, the tub just about big enough for her body if she wrapped her arms around her knees. 'Time for a wash.' Rosa's voice was full of sadistic glee, her footsteps heavy as she moved around, just out of sight. 'Lean forward.' Carolina did so, her body hot, the water slightly scalding. A brush touched against her back, the bristles stiff and hard, scraping away her skin. She mewled into her gag, the brush rough and unyielding, bristles not softening even when getting wet. They scraped at her skin, harsh and scraping, in even strokes from her shoulders down her back. 'Mistress Carolina should be clean, inside and out.' Carolina closed her eyes, preferring the darkness to the blurry, half-lit blobs of the ceiling. The brush continued to scrape at her skin, soap doing nothing to ease it. With her arms spread on the sides of the metal tub, she was defenseless against it, Rosa pushing it forcefully against her body. Her back wasn't too bad, although it made the water feel even hotter, her skin getting rubbed away, but when it came around to her front, scratching and chafing at her breasts, she couldn't resist mewling through her gag again. 'After your... outburst... earlier, then I don't think you will be allowed speech for a while.' The sharp hairs of the brush assaulted her breasts, scraping and biting, getting pressed down hard. Carolina sagged backwards, her back aching as it touched against the metal curve of the tub. When she opened her eyes, she could see the blur that was Rosa in front of her, sleeves peeled back and then the brush slid beneath the water, scratching at her belly. She spread her legs, feeling the water flow and stroke against her, excitement between her legs. 'Oh? You think you deserve something?' The water slowed Rosa's movements, but Carolina could feel it swirling around, and then the brush touched against her thigh, sharply scraping down the soft skin of her inner thigh. Even with the enforced slowness of the water, it still stung and hurt, the water gently sloshing around. 'Such a naughty mistress! If you're going to use that tongue of use to cause problems, I can think of better tasks for it. Once you have been punished, of course.' The tub was so small that it was hard for Carolina to spread her legs, having to raise her knees up to do so, the brush getting shoved harder into the top of her thigh. The pain was starting to feel good now, her body tensing up but her senses scrambling, letting her lose herself in the rough scraping. She hissed in a breath as it pushed against the softness between her legs, the bristles prickling and scraping, pushing against her sensitive parts, even against her soft nub, her senses reeling. Rosa was merciless, twisting and pushing the brush around, making Carolina pant. With only Rosa watching, it was safe to let her control slip, grinding her hips forward, letting the brush scratch and hurt her, the sensations making her heart race, pleasure swelling within her. 'Stand.' The command was swift and curt, Carolina obeyed, water flowing over her body and splashing into the tub. Rosa wasn't any gentler with the towel than she had been with the brush, especially against Carolina's scratched and sensitive skin. Her whole body tingled now, skin scraped away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She opened her eyes, squinting to try and focus her vision, but it didn't help, everything blurry and blobby still. The only sense she could rely on was touch, with Rosa drying her body before, before a tug on her arm indicated that she should step out of the tub. There was a wetness between her legs, even after Rosa had dried there, and she wanted to stroke and touch herself! A spank slapped against her buttocks again, only adding to her inner heat, and she felt her spittle starting to flow over the gag, dirtying her chin. 'If you're going to dirty yourself, I suppose then it's time to put you to bed, where you won't be able to cause any more trouble.' Nails scratched down her back again, even more painful now, her skin still hot from the water, her skin abraded away. But there was no escape, Rosa's touches hard and certain, before shoving her forward, towards the bed. Even with her poor vision, it was easy to see, white and fluffy, the bedding immaculate, thin red lines stretched out from the corner-posts. She stepped towards it, just barely escaping another raking slash down her back, climbing onto the bed, then rolling onto her back and spreading out her limbs. 'Oh? Such an obedient mistress.' The bed creaked as Rosa climbed on as well, grabbing one of Carolina's ankles. Rope, scratchy and rough, scraped against her ankle, a loop tightening, holding her leg outstretched. Every touch of Rosa's stirred Carolina's excitement further, the pressure between her legs getting stronger. A hand lightly rested on her crotch, fingers spread, palm flat against her lower lips. She couldn't resist pushing forward and up against it, before it raised up and then slapped sharply down, making her wince. 'A lady should know restraint.' Carolina whined, but settled down, trying to force herself to relax. That slap had sent vibrations all the way through her, making her want even more! But she had to wait for Rosa to finish tying her down, the ropes snug and firm around her ankles, keeping her legs spread, before Rosa moved upwards, taking each of Carolina's wrists in turn and doing the same with them, spreading her out on the bed. She teased her fingers over Carolina's body, making her shiver, ropes tightening further, unable to escape. 'Such a naughty, naughty mistress.' The hand came to a stop between her navel and her slit, fingers lightly circling around. 'I know of far better things to do with that sharp tongue of yours.' Rosa moved, pulling Carolina's head up and pushing a fat cushion beneath it to tilt it upwards, before releasing the gag. Warm darkness enveloped Carolina, helping her relax, as the maid's skirt covered her face, thighs on either side of her head. Through the material, she could hear Carolina's voice. 'Isn't this a more appropriate use?' Her senses were overwhelmed with the taste and scent of Rosa, her tongue licking along a stocking before finding the woman's thigh, flicking around to find her target. It was warm and musky here, with only limited air, but it made her feel comfortable and warm, her poor vision irrelevant in the darkness. It didn't take her long until she found her target, her tongue sliding into Rosa, tasting her sweet fluids. Above her, Rosa shifted, thighs tightening around Carolina's head, spurring her onwards. She twisted and twirled her tongue, the way that Rosa liked, sucking her lips together, kissing her lips against Rosa's. The pressure on her changed, Rosa leaning forward, kissing against Carolina's belly. She whimpered in desire, feeling kisses move down her body, her own desire building. Lips pressed against her own lower lips, sweet and soft, her hips sliding upwards as Rosa started to tease her, tongue lightly skimming around and over her most sensitive part. Carolina pushed her head forward, licking and kissing more urgently now, tasting a greater flow of fluid, her maid's desire building up. She did what she could to pleasure them, her own pleasure getting stronger and stronger, a hot, wet tongue skimming over the edge of her lips, only just barely entering her. She could feel the weight of Rosa's body pressing down on her, uniform pressing against her naked breasts. She wanted that tongue deeper into herself, to swirl and lick and kiss! Rosa's hips pressed down, her slit tight against Carolina's face. There was something said that Carolina couldn't hear, still using her tongue to pleasure the maid, feeling the hips grind and thrust against her face, until there was a flow of pleasure, the hips relaxing before lifting away, light and air returning. Carolina whined, hot and urgent passion still strong between her legs. She wanted pleasure herself! A hand slapped her there, making her gasp in pain. 'Not tonight, mistress.' Another sharp slap silenced any protests she had, her limbs held spreadeagled on the bed. Rosa dismounted, before stroking hair off Carolina's forehead. Her face was close enough to be visible, a faint flush on her cheeks, a smile on her face, before she leaned down and kissed Carolina on the lips. She could taste herself, feeling a blush rise over her cheeks, and adding to her desire, Rosa's hair sliding over her cheeks. 'Sleep well, mistress.' A hand pressed down against her eyes, turning her world dark. It withdrew, but a moment later leather slid into place, a blindfold getting wrapped over her head. There was no way for her to touch herself, or give herself any relief - all she could do was lay there and try and sleep, able to hear Rosa undress herself, dress slithering off skin, fantasizing about the slender curves of the maid's body, trying to sleep. Malcolm jabbed with his skin, the metal-capped end poking into soft skin. The woman flinched and twisted, chains tightening, although she didn't make any sound - the heavy metal frame around her head wash an efficient gag and muzzle. It sealed her mouth entirely, preventing her moving her jaw. He jabbed again - she had good muscle-tone, her body healthy, although there were some rough-raw marks on her skin from her confinement, heavy metal chafing against her skin. She was bruised as well, dark marks mottling her fair skin. Her long, blonde hair was also unevenly cut, some parts hacked short, others still full length. She struggled to lift an arm, the chains so heavy that it was an effort, and the chains clicked taut, not long enough to let her raise her hands. Even her fingers were restrained, with thick lines of metal keeping them spread, like a frog's hands. He raised the cane, then pushed it against her belly, feeling the muscles tense up - her eyes glared at him, bright and lively. And not very happy, but that was scarcely surprising. 'How much for this one?' 'You sure, mate? She's a looker, but might be a handful, even for you. Why she ended up down here, rather than upstairs.' The speaker was a roughly-dressed man, wiping his hands on an already-dirty piece of cloth, smearing engine grease over it, as he kicked at a mechanism of gears and cogs. It clanked into life, a trapdoor in the ceiling opening up, a small cage getting winched up and out of seat, along with the worried-looking occupant. 'I want someone with some stamina. I need a new songbird, and that takes a lot of vigor. The last one was... retired.' 'Well, she's scrappy. You can have her for fifty pounds if you want, but don't say I didn't warn you. There's a reason she's in steel, not ropes. Slipped out once already - took three of the guards to drag her in. That's why she's all scuffed up.' 'Where was she before?' 'Bermondsey estate, I think. They're an odd lot up there - a lot of churn in their staff. Money to burn, but what they buy don't last long. Lots of odd injuries and marks, hurts the resale value. She's a biter as well - why she's got the muzzle on.' She managed to shake her head, body tensing up, chains tinkling, easily strong enough to keep her contained. 'I need someone that's tough. I'm sure I'll be able to shape her spirit appropriately.' He withdrew the cane through the bars of the cage, before flicking it upwards, between her legs, striking her right in the cunt. She shook with pain, glaring at him. 'Well, it's your funeral. I guess your place needs a new drawer? Ain't you got those French girls?' 'They're good enough, but I need something special. Another songbird is needed. I've got a few ideas for how to make this one even better.' 'If you're sure. She's tough, but not easy to work with. You're going to need to break her down. But she's yours if you want her.' Malcolm nodded. 'I'll take her. She'll be far more useful to me than used as another fuck-hole in some alleyway.' Her eyes narrowed at him, filled with a satisfying energy - she wasn't enjoying her situation, but she was probably used to being pampered and well-treated. 'How you want to be taking her?' 'I'll walk her back. She could do with the exercise, it looks like. And it'll show her what her place is.' He knelt down, looking at her long, toned legs - her feet were smooth and clean, nails neatly trimmed, feet slightly bent. Good - she was used to heels as well. She must have been well-trained, but probably had grown too proud and spirited. 'Be easy to send a cage around, but you're paying, I guess.' The man walked over, taking a fat bundle of keys from around his waist, using one to unlock the cage. The chains snapped tightly, as she tried to surge forward, throwing her weight forward. There wasn't enough slack to let her move more than slightly, a faint growling coming from behind the muzzle. Malcolm reached forward, putting a hand against her chest, feeling her heart hammering away, a good, strong beat, nodding in approval. 'Oh, she'll do nicely. At least, once her hair is grown back. But there's time enough for that. And she's nice and sensitive in the right places.' He moved his hand down, pressing against her belly, fingering her cunt. She shrank backwards, shaking her hips, but lacked the range of movement to get him off. Between her legs, she was tight and hot, even when dry. Around her neck was a heavy metal collar, pitted and worn iron, stained and dark. 'Don't worry, girl. You'll have finer clothing and a nicer collar. But the more you fight, then the more I will have to hurt you. You're going to make a lovely new songbird for me - your cage will be a nice one.' They growled again through the muzzle, eyes narrowing. 'Fight if you want, it's all the same to me. Makes it a little more fun, even. But you're going to obey, like it or not.' A long metal pole reached past him, clicking onto the collar-ring. Her arms still pulled on the chains, trying to make herself move, although he could see her muscles shaking from the effort. 'Fetters should keep her calm. Or at least tired.' Malcolm jabbed with the cane, shoving it hard into her stomach, forcing her to exhale. 'Or would you rather have a hood? Or a collar with spikes on the inside?' He stood back, letting the woman be prepared - a heavy metal ball getting chained between her ankles, her chains getting rearranged, so short metal links ran between her ankles, neck and wrists, forcing her to stoop, unable to even stand up properly. 'Want to test her out?' Malcolm nodded and took the pole, pulling on it. He could feel the woman's resistance through it, but she had no choice but to move, getting dragged by the neck. Her steps were slow and faltering, weighed down by the ball. The chains dug into her skin, rubbing and scraping as she moved. With the pole, he could move her around, dragging her towards the middle of the room. A large pillar held horizontal brackets, which he slid the pole into, locking her into place, leaving her stood there. Outside of the cage, she was even more magnificent, her waist slender, hips generous and full, buttocks almost begging to be caned. Her eyes moved to follow him, but her collar stopped her moving her head. She shifted nervously as he moved out of sight, before stepping forward and slapping his cane against her buttocks, leaving a bright red welt against her pale skin. 'You've never really been worked, have you? Well, from today, that's going to change.' He moved in close, running a hand down her back - slightly grimy and sweaty, but the scent of perfume lingered. Malcolm shifted his grip on the cane, pushing it against the woman's asshole, pushing it in, hearing her gasp and pant. 'Your master was far too kind, if he never took you back here. You're going to need to get used to this.' He could feel her tense up around the penetrating shaft, the metal and wood sliding into her, her body resisting it. 'The more you fight back, the more it will hurt. One way or another though, you will become the next songbird.' He withdraw the cane, before slapping it hard against her backside, then feeling down her back, her spine and ribs easy to see and feel. 'You're good raw material, girl. You might have been pampered before, but you're going to have to work now.' He rubbed against her from behind, feeling himself harden, groping at her breasts. She tried to move, but the chains were too short, restricting and limiting her movements too much. 'Time to break you down, girl.' 'You want one of those plug-leashes, mate? Just in case?' 'Hmmm, yes, I think so. She looks to have spirit - admirable, even if foolish.' He stroked down, feeling the fork between her legs, hair starting to grow there. She was still dry, slow to respond to his stroking fingers. 'You'll need to learn to get used to this. And more.' He felt her tense up, a soft grunting coming from behind the metal wrapped around her head. Even after teasing and stroking, she was still dry, making it a struggle to slip a finger into her, as she writhed, probably not liking the rough violation. Well, if she couldn't make her body accommodate even a finger, then that was her own problem! The other man came over, now holding a metal plug with a chain attached to the base, a key dangling down. Malcolm drew back, taking the thing, spitting between the woman's buttocks. She twitched, chains clicking and chinking, before he pushed the bulbous head against her asshole. She tensed up, making him wrap an arm around her waist to keep her in place, shoving against the muscles of her backside. She moaned, metal vibrating and shaking as she tried to protest the violation, but the metal slid in, bit by bit, before her body swallowed it all up, leaving just the plug-base and the chain outside her body. Then he turned the key, having to twist hard, her insides resisting. Inside her body, the thing would have opened up into wide petals, impossible to pull out without locking up again. 'You'll have to walk backwards, but you'll manage.' Malcolm tugged on the ass-chain, enjoying the way she gasped in pain, rocking slightly - with the plug spread out inside of her, she would have no choice but to follow the pull of the chain. He pulled on it again, a little harder, seeing the immediate reaction of her body, even if her muzzle swallowed up most of the sounds she could make. 'Sure you want her? Don't come crying to me if she breaks free.' 'Oh, I don't that that'll be a problem.' Malcom slapped her hand against her backside, digging fingers into her flesh - fresh, pert, but not too large. And then he slid around to her front, feeling at her breasts -larger than could fit into the palm of his hand, her heart still racing away. 'She's just what I need. And she'll learn to obey. Making them sing is the easy part - it's making them sing on command that takes work. But she's used to being pampered - the proud ones always break the easiest. It doesn't take much any they'll do anything for a shred of comfort. A few days in the mud, and this bitch will be happy for a golden cage.' Her chains clinked, one of her hands coming around, trying to swing for him, stopping well-short as the chains tightened to their maximum extent. He squeezed and twisted a nipple, crushing the nub between his fingers, enjoying her soft gasp of pain, even through her muzzle. 'Silly bitch. But I suppose there's a certain pleasure in breaking you down. Got any clamps?' 'Sure thing. Want bells as well?' 'Hmmm... Yes, I think so. She needs to get used to being stared out - she's going to be a public attraction, after all.' He squeezed and groped her breasts again, enjoying the softness against his hands, then reaching down and slapping her belly, before feeling between her legs. 'You're going to need to be tough, but the alternative is getting staked out in the street, for anyone to use. I've no room for freeloaders - you'll have to earn your keep, otherwise I'll throw you out. Be a good girl, and you'll be treated nice. Chains of gold rather than iron, and a pretty little cage.' He felt her cunt again - still dry, and she tensed and shivered when he shoved a finger in. 'You'll need to learn to relax, and it'll hurt less.' His finger pushed into her, her walls tight and dry around it, before he withdraw, slapping his hand against her cunt, making the chains rattle. The man came back, holding screw-clamps, with a short chain between them, a bell attached at the lowest point. Malcolm took them, enjoying the shiver of fear he felt through the woman's body, using one arm to hold her in place, as she tried to wriggle and twist. He tried to reach up and grab at her throat, but the muzzle-collar was in the way, her neck fully sealed behind metal, settling instead for slapping her cunt again, before sliding the plates over a nipple and tightening the screws. They started to press together, biting into the skin, crushing it tighter and tighter, before being made tight and secure. Her breathing was faster and faster now, as panic overtook her, along with what was probably more pain than she was used to. 'This is what you need to get used to. The more you obey, the less I will hurt you.' He pulled the chain outwards, stretching her breast out, watching as her flesh was pulled taut. Then he reached back in and quickly screwed the other clamp into place, tightening it up, making sure it was secure. The chain between them dangled, the bell knocking against her stomach and chiming. 'So, how you want to pay? Want me to come around and arrange it with Lil?' 'Lillian will sort it, yes.' Having his daughters name shortened was just rude! 'She tends to the books. If you want to come around in a few days? She's been cooking again.' The man blanched. 'Uh, maybe I'll just come for the money? Might be better for me guts that way.' 'She is getting better. Or perhaps I'm getting more used to it. With a new songbird though, I should be able to earn enough for a cook. And hopefully rather more. It would be nice to have some proper food again, rather than the offcuts and leavings.' 'Well, that's true. I know a few girls over from the rich part of town - I'm sure I can get some nice leavings from them. Might make even Lil's stew easier to eat!' He smiled. 'I'll drop by soon. Be interesting to see what you do with her. The fancy ones can break oddly - some just snap, or collapse.' 'Oh, this one has enough fire, I'm sure of it.' He stepped back, pulling on the ass-chain, giving it a hard yank. She stumbled backwards, pulled by the chain, awkwardly trying to walk, bell ringing. 'She'll do nicely. Or else suffer the consequences! Just enough time as a rich man's slut to know what it's like to be well-treated, and wanting to avoid it. She'll be a good little song-bird soon enough. And Lillian could do with some practical experience. I need to get a girl for her, but well...' 'Money's been tight? I know the feeling, mate. But she's got a good head on her shoulders, she'll be fine. You just need to get your place opened again.' Malcolm pulled harder on the ass-chain as he walked away, feeling the force conduct itself through the chain, tugging on the heavy lump spread within the woman's asshole, forcing her to stumble backwards again. 'Yes, once I have a songbird again. And really - do drop by, Lillian does enjoy cooking. And it helps to have someone else to share with, so I don't need to force myself to eat it all!' He laughed, the man joining in, sound echoing around the room, the caged slaves shifting uncomfortably at the sounds. The woman moved without resisting, getting dragged by her backside, moving faster whenever he pulled on the chain. He could tell where she was from the tinkling of her breast-bell, a lively jangling with each step. The walk wasn't far, but she looked the sort unused to travelling barefoot, especially over slimy and grimy cobblestones, and definitely not naked and chained! The house was dark and cold, Malcolm fumbling with the back door as a bitterly cold wind blew, hard enough to cut through his coat. The chain shook and twitched, the woman shivering, softly whimpering into her muzzle as he found the key and opened up, dragging her inside. It was only a little warmer, but at least there was no wind here! In a niche by the door was an old candle, which he lit, creating a small pool of light, as he pulled the woman in and closed the door, cutting out any noise from outside. She gasped, her ass getting stretched out by the butt-leash, but she wasn't resisting. He'd need to be able to see better to start her training, so he pulled her over the room towards the fireplace, already stocked, set with tinder, and ignited it. The fire took, stinging him with heat, lighting up the room. 'If you're a good girl, then you won't be here for long. But if you're bad, then you can expect most of these items to be used on you.' He pulled on the chain, looping it over a hook - she wouldn't be any use if she succumbed to a chill or a fever! The firelight shone on her skin, highlighting her soft, gentle curves and pale skin - every inch the pampered noble's plaything, beautiful and knowing it. 'I'll have to strip your pride away - but I'm sure you're going to obey in the end.' She groaned, turning around, chain wrapping around her body, plug still deep in her ass. Her feet and legs were splattered with mud, from having to walk here, small cuts and scrapes. 'You'll need to be good and flexible as well, but let's get you cleaned off first.' The heat from the fire was growing as the logs started to burn, shedding a strong heat, and he took his coat off, adjusting his waistcoat beneath. 'When you are given an order, you will obey. When you have proven yourself, then you might be allowed a little more freedom. But, for now, you're just a slut, here to obey. If you're disobedient enough, then I'll put a brand or two on your skin. If you try to run, then a hot iron across your feet will stop you trying again.' He watched as her shoulders slumped, weak and uncertain. Behind her, he could see the items in the room catching the light, as the fire blossomed - cages, poles, chains and cuffs, several chests full of more training tools and implements. He'd been meaning to sort it out, or let Lillian do it, but it hadn't seemed worth the effort. 'Let's get you nice and spread. See what you're like. But first, to show you what might happen if you disobey...' A whip was coiled up in a messy loop above the fire, and Malcom picked it up, flicking the tip against the woman's body. The chains made it harder to hit properly, but it still made her flinch from the impact, chains chinking and chiming. A few red welts appeared on her buttocks, before he curved the cord, striking it around her body, hitting her belly. She tried to huddle up, protecting herself as best she could. Her messed-up hair was even more obvious, hacked brutally short in places, all the way to her scalp, other parts still long and flowing. It would need time to grow back, but maybe Lillian could style it better? After making her cower, it was time to get her onto the inspection pole. Another few flicks of the whip, and then he pushed her back, towards a study metal pole, running from the floor to the ceiling, leather straps dangling from in. Before releasing her from her chains, he tethered one ankle into place, tying her to the pole, then more straps, just above and below her knee, pulling it tightly into place. Then there was the lengthy process of unchaining her, having to release the metal that connected her ankles, freeing them. He tensed up, ready to slap and hit her if she tried to break free, but she must still be in shock, not reacting. There was a rough-red chafe mark where the metal had been wrapped around her ankle - that would heal soon enough, but it showed how soft her previous owner had been, that she didn't have any other such marks on her soft skin. 'Good. If you obey, you won't be hurt as much. I hope you're flexible though - it'll make this easier!' Malcom grabbed her other ankle and bent her leg all the way upwards, forcing it into a straight line with the other leg. Her torso pivoted forward, stretching awkwardly, but she had a good range of movement in her hips, allowing her to take the position without straining anything past breaking point. Feeling the strain and resistance in her muscles, he snapped more bands tightly into place, strapping the leg against the pole, forcing her to be fully spread. She managed to twist her torso, as he grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back. With the wrist-fetters still in place, it was a bit of a tangle, but it was easy enough to grab another short strap and bind her wrists together in a box-tie behind her back, admiring the lines of her body, the way her shoulder-blades flexed and twisted. With a heavy clatter, the wrist-fetters dropped to the floor, chains curling and coiling, falling against each other. 'I don't need your mouth just yet, so I'll leave that muzzle on.' He pulled her up by her neck, a longer strap reaching out from the pole and going across the metal - if it hadn't been there, it would have strangled her, getting held straight across her throat, but the metal at least made sure she could keep breathing. Her fingers were twitching, arms twisting and straining, trying to reach something. Malcolm looked her in the eyes and then shook his head, before grabbing at her tit-chain, making the bell ring and chime. 'The sooner that spirit of yours is quashed, then the easier this will be.' He pulled on the chain, stretching it out, pulling roughly on her tits, before getting small leather bags and forcing them over her hands. The rough outline of fingers appeared against the bags, as she tried to force them off, but they were secured around her wrists, forcing them into fists. She grunted and wriggled, the toes of one foot on the floor, her legs forced into a single straight line, her torso supported by her neck. The strain it was putting on her was obvious - she was starting to gasp already, her muscles forced into the painful posture, her shoulders pulled back, breasts pushed forward. Bruises were starting to form on her breasts, the clamps pressing against her, compressing her skin. Malcolm unscrewed one, listening for the gasp of pain as blood started to flow back, smiling when he heard it. The bell rang again as the chain swung, before he unscrewed the other clamp, flicking the nipple, making her mumble-gasp again. Her eyes were cloudy and vague now, blurry with pain and suffering. 'This is what you need to get used to. The sooner you yield, the sooner you will be permitted not to suffer.' He slapped her cunt, fingers striking the soft slit and lips, knocking the air from her. The position forced her entire waist to be taut and tense, an easy target to strike, utterly undefended, and without any way for her even to bend backwards out of the impact. 'Do you want me to get that thing out of you?' A vague light came to her eyes, muscles tensing up, although she was held so stretched out that she couldn't even nod her head. 'You'll need to get used to being on display. This is what you're here for now.' Stretched out, the lean suppleness of her body was fully displayed, her muscles lovely and taut, breasts jutting out. Soon, the strain would start to show, weakening her, hopefully making it easier to train her. 'You're a long way from being allowed to use your mouth, so you're going to stay muzzle for a while. But you're here to be used.' He stroked fingers down her ribcage, feeling at her muscles, and how lean she was, nice and smooth, both soft and hard. Her hipbones were pushing against her skin, and he stroked them, feeling how they dipped in, a natural path towards the cleft of her cunt. 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. Prisonette's Dilemma Preview
Chapters Making friends is hard. But that doesn't mean Eliza wanted to
be locked into a torture chamber with some class-mate she's never met! And now
they're locked and shackled together, forced into closeness and made to torment
and tease each other. Made to hurt each other, bound into confinement, never
allowed to be apart, but never allowed to climax or enjoy each other's presence.
Soon, all Eliza can think of is the other girl's soft body and warm eyes, but
touching her brings pain! All Eliza wants is the other girl's gentle touch, but
without the shock or the lash... Will she ever be allowed to take her pleasure
with the other girl? Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter One: An Uneasy Meeting The locker was cramped for one, with two shoved into the tiny space, it was hot and stifling, the air-hole between them was the only source of air and light, just enough that they could see each other's faces. They were still bound together, a leather strap between their ponytails, their ankles bound to each other and their hands bound behind the other's back. Their skirts were around their ankles, but otherwise they were dressed, even if grimy from sweat, stood up, unable to do more than slightly shift in the tiny space. Sophia's face was marked with tears, makeup running down her pale cheeks. Eliza twisted, trying to keep her arse from touching the sides, her flesh tender and raw from the harsh paddling. Her movement must have pushed Sophia back, the other girl biting her lip, trying not to make any sound. They couldn't hear anything, but that didn't mean no-one was there, waiting for them to slip up and do something that could be used as an excuse for punishment, or to push something into the airhole, see how long the air inside the box would last, make them weak and delirious. Or spray cold water inside, leaving them chilled and cold, making them beg for warmth. She shivered, trying not to think about how vulnerable they were - the locker was metal, could it be wired up to shock them? She nuzzled against Sophia, gently nipping her on the neck. She whispered just in case someone was listening. Were there any hidden microphones in here? She couldn't see them, but in the low light, and with another body in the way, such a thing could easily be concealed. 'Is this your first time?' Another nip served to draw the girl from her stupor, and she nodded. 'What's going on? Why are they doing this?' 'Because they can. It's how this place works. Ranks and orders. And those above are rarely kind to those below. "Perform. Obey. Suffer." Haven't you seen the motto?' She kissed the girl's neck, then her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. 'But... How? Why?' 'Because they can.' Sophia smelt good, fresh and sweet, despite the fear-sweat clinging to both their bodies, their thin blouses almost translucent to start with. Her breasts pressed against Eliza's, soft and warm. 'Don't show weakness. Don't show fear. Be quiet. Be obedient. Fade into the background - it's safer. You don't want to be anyone's focus.' She kissed Sophia again, moving closer to the girl's lips. 'How can you be so strong? Doesn't it hurt?' 'Be strong or break. I used to have a friend, Madeline. She was taken into the basement. When she came out... She says her name is Harriet now, and refuses to believe it was ever anything else.' She began grinding herself against Sophia's leg, already smeared with her juices, seeking at least a moment of fleeting pleasure, trying to avoid pressing her buttocks against the walls and hurting herself. 'But... that sounds horrible.' Eliza kissed her, full on the lips. It made the air in here even hotter and more stifling, but it was better than simply being stuck in the darkness. 'It's how this place works. Please your betters or be punished.' She was close, the girl's leg not the best of sextoys, but at least it didn't hurt her, and she wasn't being violated or hurt by anyone else. Sophia squirmed, trying to pull away, at least as much as she could in the tiny space. 'How long are we in here for?' Eliza groaned as she peaked, the heat of her ardor rapidly fading. 'Until that bastard lets us out. Or someone else. Shit, we need to tell each other secrets.' In the post-orgasmic haze, there was at least a moment of peace, and she tried to snuggle against the girl, seeking some warmth, human contact that didn't involve pain. Although could the girl be playing her? She had tried to escape her full punishment - maybe this was all a setup? But she was nice and warm, at least for now. She rested her head on Sophia's shoulder, twisting to keep hair out of her face. 'Secrets?' 'He's going to quiz us, isn't he? And if we get anything wrong, then a punishment.' She winced, her butt red and throbbing. How many strikes had it been, ten? That paddle had been brutal, although at least it hadn't been spiked or ridged. 'Don't you remember the application form? He's going to know everything on that at least. And it sounds like you've been here before, so he might know more about you.' 'But he wouldn't just...' She trailed off, probably remembering that she was currently in a tiny metal locker, half-naked and tied to another girl, both their asses red-raw from a paddling. 'He would. And if you fuck it up and get me hurt more...' She nuzzled against Sophia, then bit her, a sharp nip to hopefully focus Sophia's attentions. Not that she had much in the way of influence or allies herself, but if this girl fucked it up, then she'd try and get her fed to one of the harsher dorms or put in a display cage for anyone to use. She grunted in pain as hands squeezed her, Sophia's eyes moistening again. She tensed, ready to fight, at least as much as she could, before realizing she was being hugged, Sophia turning her own head to softly kiss Eliza's forehead. She slowly relaxed, feeling the tension drain from her body - how long had it been since an embrace had been genuine, since she had been touched without hurt or as a trick? She felt her own chest juddering, managing to resist the urge to sob and cry - this could be a trick, the girl a plant. But it was nice, being cradled in someone's arms, their bodies close, resting against each other, starting to breath in unison. 'So what do you think we should do?' Sophia's breath tickled her cheek, sending a strand of hair fluttering. 'We need to learn about each other. They're probably going to put us in separate rooms and ask us individually. Wouldn't surprise me if they were going to punish us anyway. He likes to make a game of it, make it look like you have a chance. He just likes hurting people.' She relaxed a little more, the other girl distractingly warm and soft against her. They started with the basics - names, ages, dates of birth, where they had come from. As they talked, the light faded to twilight, sunset casting their faces into pale orange as the sun set. Maybe someone would come and let them out? Although she'd met some of the cleaners before and would rather not be found by them. Still, it was strangely soothing, being bound so close to Sophia. At least in here there was little danger of immediate attack, and she could move about as much as in her usual cage. And she wasn't hooded or blindfolded and bound with her mouth held open in case any of the dominants felt like using her. She shifted her weight, trying to learn on the walls, take some of the strain off her legs. Sophia pushed in closer, her skin and hair the only things Eliza could smell, even over the tinny tang of the metal trapping them. It was almost nice, despite the promise of future punishment. 'What's your worst nightmare?' Eliza froze. Sophia sounded innocent enough, but could she be a plant? It would be just like this place to make her reveal her darkest fears, and then use them against her. She tried to remember - was there anyone that could know? She tried to suppress the memories of it, but had anyone noticed? She should lie, rather than reveal anything that could hurt her. Sophia twisted against her, trying to get as comfortable as she could, with the bindings still forcing them to wrap their arms around each other, although the cord between their ponytails was loosened slightly now, making it easier to move their heads. She spoke quietly, almost furtively, as though worried about eavesdroppers. 'Choking.' She shuddered. 'Not being able to breath, gasping and spluttering. I don't understand how people can enjoy that.' Eliza could remember hands about her neck, a bag over her face, breath hot and thick, her hands restrained so she couldn't pull it off herself, a crowd watching and jeering, hands pawing at her body. It hadn't been the worst she'd endured, merely painful, rather than degrading or humiliating. And the orgasm she had been allowed at the end, hanging on the edge of consciousness, a cleansing fire blasting through her, had been... She quivered at the memory, getting horny again. 'Are you sure you want me to know? If he asks me, what should I say?' Sophia kissed her on the lips, warm and comforting, somehow able to smile. 'I want you to trust me. If we can't trust each other, then what?' They kissed again, slow and warm, tongues sliding into each other's mouths, seeking a simple pleasure. If they were being recorded, it wouldn't be in any decent quality. It was Eliza's turn to slide her leg forward, Sophia grinding against her, the place hardly comfortable. But she managed, gasping towards a climax as she smeared her juices against Eliza's thigh. Eliza winced as her buttocks pressed against the metal, skin raw from the paddling. Having Sophia snuggled against her, slightly flushed and panting, the scent of her sex mingling with that of their bodies, was nice. A simple moment of peace, without hurt or degradation. Was this girl trustworthy? They'd both be getting punished in some way, that was almost certain. There was no way they would be allowed out of here without getting hurt in some way, and letting the Dean know what she hated would mean getting take down into the basement, locked into a dark box, left and abandoned. Even being hit and used was better than that, being discarded and abandoned, more meat than human, simply a thing to be used for the pleasure of another. She shivered, holding Sophia close as she lied. 'Electricity. I've been tied down and wired up, and they kept shocking me. Again and again. I tried to beg for them to stop, but... then they gagged me. I was left there, all night, still connected. Until one of the cleaners found me, and to get out I had to...' She trailed off, not wanting to remember that. The electricity itself hadn't been that bad, but being dumped into an empty room, bound, deafened and blindfolded, unable to move or even scream, and simply abandoned until anyone deigned to remember her, had been horrible. At least she had been alone, or she thought she had been alone, so no-one knew, how she had spent most of that night sobbing to herself, desperate for contact, even the impact of a hand or a whip better than nothing. Since then, she had been careful to be very quiet and obedient, fading into the background as much as possible, just to avoid anything like that, ever again. Light continued to fall, as they spent the time in drowsy conversation, sharing body heat as the locker began to chill. Both were on the same scholarship program, meaning they were amongst the lowest ranks, although Sophia had yet to draw much attention, explaining her more relaxed attitude. Sometime later, they fell into slumber, still bound together, Sophia's body warm and comfortable to use as a cushion and pillow. They were rudely awoken by the locker being jostled. Eliza bit her lip in pain as it was tilted until it was lengthways, Eliza's butt still sore where she fell against the metal, Sophia falling on top of her. Eliza twisted, managing to look through the hole, making sure to keep it clear so they could breathe. Tiles were moving beneath them, occasional glimpse of shoes and legs - they must be being taken along one of the university hallways. Sophia whimpered, drawing close to Eliza for comfort. 'Where do you think they're...' Eliza cut her off. 'Shh! If they hear us, they'll know we're awake.' The tiles underneath turned to old stone slabs, as they were jostled and bumped down a steep set of stairs - Eliza's heart fell as she realized they were being taken into the crypts and basements beneath the main buildings, where troublemakers were taken for punishment and training. The light turned dark, shifting from sunlight to the chill and sporadic electric lights. She hugged Sophia close, wondering what would happen, what they would be forced to endure, or be forced to do to each other. They were set right-way up again, and there was the sound of footsteps moving away, the heavy slam of a metal door shutting, then silence. Eliza waited, heart pounding, before going to the eye-hole again. She screamed, a face looking back at her, or at least a smooth, white curve of latex - one of the nurses, their body sheathed in white latex. They waved, clearly able to hear her. Eliza watched in terror as Sophia clamped tightly onto her, seeing her reaction but unable to know what was happening, as the nurse reached for a length of rubber tubing, pushing it over the small hole, cutting off the light. There was a pneumatic hiss and then a strange scent in the air. She felt herself getting woozy, trying to warn Sophia, before falling unconscious. Her last thought, as she slumped against Sophia, was of how nice the girl's hair smelled, and then the darkness claimed her. Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter Two: Response Required It was uncomfortably cold. Whatever she was sat on was frigid and hard, enough to make her butt sore already. Things had been pushed into her, ass and pussy both, recently enough that the metal hadn't yet warmed. From the soreness she could feel, it had barely even been lubed, simply shoved straight in. Eliza tried moving her legs, barely getting an inch of movement before a chain snapped taut. Underfoot, it was tile, cold and hard. And, the thought arose, easy to clean if someone got too rough. Her eyes were gummy, sticking shut until she forced them open, a cold and hard electric light shining down on her. She tried rising a hand to wipe the gunk from her eyes but was prevented from doing so - they were cuffed together by a chain, running through a metal loop on the table in front of her, itself securely attached to the ground. She was sat on a metal bench, with what felt like a pole behind her, uncomfortable against her spine, with a metal ring around her neck that locked her head in place, a strap around her forehead. A ballgag had been strapped around her head and pushed into her mouth, the plastic stale with someone else's spit. Opposite her was a long mirror, filling one wall - clearly for observational purposes, although she hoped the audience was small. To add to the sense of being watched, there was a camera in one corner, red light blinking on and off. On the table in front of her was a laptop, currently closed, but also attached to the desk by heavy-duty metal brackets, to prevent her wrenching it away and throwing it or using it as a weapon. Other than the mirror, every surface looked the same; smooth white tiles, harsh and cruel. Cold, empty and far too easy to - she shivered - simply disinfect after use, wipe away any trace of whatever had been done. Unable to move her head, her vision was limited - all she could hear was the loud fans of the AC, drowning out her own breathing. She hadn't been stripped, for what that was worth - her skirt had actually been pulled back up, her blouse rebuttoned, but the thin fabric offered little protection against the cold, or if anyone were to strike her skin. She kicked her legs again, testing her restraints - it felt like another chain through a tether, meaning she could shift them slightly, but not enough to even kick the table legs. And with the collar around her neck, she couldn't move her torso enough to dismount from whatever was pushed into her - no doubt they would be 'activated' at some point. The chain between her wrists was about eight inches long, meaning even if she had one hand right next to the tether, she still couldn't touch herself with the other. Would something happen? She carefully poked the laptop, tensing herself in case one of the intruders buried into her burst into life or some other torment was inflicted on her. Nothing happened, at least that she could see or feel. The camera light blinked on and off, a steady rhythm. Or was it? Were they trying to screw up her sense of time, make the blinks faster or slower? Although that would be bizarrely mild, she had nowhere to be after all. She carefully ran a hand across the top of the laptop. Smooth, black metal, reinforced and tough, otherwise featureless. It was set up so she could only reach it with one hand at a time, the chain not allowing her to use both. She opened, the thing powering up, screen showing the university logo. It continued to load, windows flashing and vanishing up as it connected to the network. The wallpaper was of several students, all hooded and anonymous, mostly-naked bodies covered with welts and bound into some kind of multi-person rack, ropes stretching their limbs out to full extension and digging into their flesh. Then two windows popped up, covering the image. One was a chat window, the other a video feed. It showed the cell she was in, although not from the camera she could see - there must be another one behind her. She looked closer, the resolution of the image hazy, the timestamp ticking along. And showing it to be the morning, assuming it was correct and not another misdirection. No, it wasn't here, it was somewhere else - that wasn't her own dark hair, it was blonde, but still tied into a messy high ponytail. All the camera showed was the top of their head and the edge of the table in that room - she could see was a similar laptop on the table there, but the resolution was so low she couldn't make out what they were looking at. That must be Sophia... Or at least that was what they wanted her to think. From the angle, it could just be a wig propped in place, or someone else being used as a substitute. She moved her hands, testing what she could reach. Only half of the keyboard with each hand, the trackpad with the thumb of either. Of course, why would they even allow her a decent typing speed? She felt something wet splat against her chest - it was spit, dribbling from behind her gag. If that was the worst degradation she experienced, then she'd consider it mild! The chat log blinked for a moment, "..." appearing, indicating someone was typing. So she was being monitored. Or an automated chatbot, but she doubted anyone would pass by the chance to torment her in person, even if at a slight remove. Prisonette Eliza. Prisonette? That was new. Not that it made much difference. The message blinked at her, no follow-up yet. She typed, straining on the chain, hissing in irritation at the delay imposed by having to switch hands. Yes sir. What shall Prisonette Eliza do? She doesn't have any options, and if she did nothing, that would probably get her punished for inaction. She couldn't even see behind herself - there was no door in sight, so it must be behind her, meaning someone could simply walk in and throw a bag over her head, draw it tight and wait until she passed out. You and your friend will be tested. Failure will bring consequences. There was no mention of
success - it was likely succeeding wasn't possible, only varying degrees of
failure. Should you err, your friend
will be punished. Should she err, you will
be punished. Any slowness to respond will
also result in punishment. Hopefully Sophia would be able to remember
everything. I understand Sir. State your friend's name. A timer immediately started counting down, Eliza trying to type as fast as possible. At least Sophia's name was short. She drew her left hand back so her right hand could hit the "enter" key. The countdown stopped. A moment later, a burning pain flared in her crotch, electricity scorching her. She grunted through the gag. She'd gotten it right hadn't she? No, Sophia must have gotten it wrong. How stupid was that bitch? Maybe if she got the next one wrong herself, that would encourage her to be more careful! State her age. That was easy. She tapped the digits in. But she paused before hitting enter - should she send a shock back? No. She'd never said her own full name was "Elizabeth", so if Sophia had put "Eliza", then that would have been in error. She pressed enter, sending the correct answer. On the video feed, she could just about make out that the person on the other side (it was probably best to assume it was Sophia) was also tapping on the keyboard. The feed was patchy and not continuous, Sophia's hands flicking between frames. The questions continued, too fast for her to think. Your friend has done well. She has earned you a reward. The thing inside her pussy started to buzz. That was a distraction she didn't need! At least it was set on "low" - unless it got turned on higher, there was no danger of her climaxing, and the juices she produced made it less uncomfortable inside of her, easing its movement. Although if Sophia was getting the same treatment, she might be easier to distract, and that meant she would be getting questions wr... She winced as lighting lashed her, spiking into her butt this this time. That was going to start vibrating as well, wasn't it? Or doing something else! How long would it take until this was over? So far, none of the questions had been that bad. Ten inches of cock must be divided between
you. What is the largest cock Sophia
could comfortably take? What the hell kind of question was that? It was a slider option - all the way up to ten - probably inches? Ten inches would tear Sophia apart, but they probably knew that. She selected "4". Sophia didn't seem as though she'd had a lot of experience. No response came back. And then the thing inside of her started to push further into her, cold and hard. Shit, she hadn't read the question properly. Six inches? It pushed mercilessly into her, spreading her wide. She liked Sophia, but not enough to take six inches up the butt! It slid into her, and then stayed there. Fuck, it felt huge, larger than anyone she'd taken before! She was thankful she hadn't chosen a smaller size for Sophia, another inch more pushed into her would rip her backside open. She tensed, trying to rise up on the pole to lessen the pressure, but the collar around her neck didn't allow that much movement. She was left there, metal cock inside of her, vibrator still buzzing away. The figure on the screen seemed largely unaffected - although of course she would, she only had four inches inside of her! God, please let there be an option to retract it later on - an electrical zap from something this large would really goddam hurt. Your partner believes that you can
withstand choking for thirty seconds. You
may accept this or have her choked for forty seconds. Do you accept? Fail to choose, and you will both be choked. The only options were "yes" or "no", and a five-second timer. She'd taken six inches, and was repaid by thirty seconds of choking? What the fuck? But Sophia hated choking. Or did she, and it was just a sob story? How much of this was a set-up? She wouldn't put it past the Dean to have arranged everything. Two seconds left. But she had been so warm. Was that all a lie? She flicked the response to "yes". The metal around her neck immediately snapped tight, constricting her throat. With the metal pillar behind her, she couldn't move backwards, and hadn't even had time to take a deep breath. She wheezed, trying to suck in air, chain rattling as her arms twitched and flailed. Her blood pounded, vision starting to spark and fade. Compared to this, even the monster in her ass seemed minor. The last time she had been forced into anything similar, it had been cruder, her tormentors wanting it to last longer, allowing her enough sharp, pained breaths to stay conscious, while they hurt her in other ways. But this was cold and merciless, a simple machine that didn't desire pleasure, it just obeyed. And then it released itself, the metal clicking back slightly, just enough that she could breathe again. She gulped in air, lungs heaving, her eyes watering. Another message had appeared on the screen, although it was hard to read through the tears. ...split between yourself and your friend? There was only two seconds left on the clock, and a long bar of numbers. She picked one near the beginning - 34. It accepted her response. The AC kicked up, suddenly hot. Far too hot, as her skin started to prickle with sweat. The figure on the video on the other hand... They looked to be shivering already. Had it been dividing the temperature between them? They were only wearing skimpy clothing - hers was starting to soak in her own sweat. Cold air would be just as punishing, if not worse! More questions flashed up, mundane things - some she knew, others she didn't. Hopefully, she wasn't causing too much harm from those she didn't know! Then a shock blasted through the intruder up her butt - if she hadn't been gagged, she would have screamed from the pain. They'd only been together for one night, they couldn't know that much about each other! This place loved rigged games. You are both guilty and deserving of
punishment. You may tell us of her crimes. Do so and your own punishment will be removed,
unless she should speak of your crimes.
If she speaks and you stay silent, then your punishment shall include hers
as well. If neither speaks, then we will
punish you both, but without knowledge of your crimes, it will be lessened. Will you speak of her crimes? Failure to select a choice will result in accepting
both your sentence and hers. Yes No Five seconds. She tried to think. If she said No and so did Sophia, then both would receive only minor punishments. But if she said No, and Sophia said Yes, then she would take both punishments. If she said Yes and Sophia said No, then Sophia would take both punishments, and if they both said Yes, then they would both be punished. What would Sophia do? Three seconds. To protect herself, she should select "Yes", at least that might minimize punishment. But if Sophia selected "No", and so did she, they would both get off more lightly. Did she trust Sophia? She glanced at the video - the figure there was shivering, probably bitingly cold. Would she blame Eliza for that? But she hadn't known what it would do! One second. She made her choice. There was no immediate reaction, nothing to tell her what Sophia had selected. There was movement, a hand suddenly appearing in her peripheral vision, bound in white latex. One of the nurses stepped into view - had she been stood behind Eliza this entire time, watching her? Just stood there, silent and watching, probably only a pace or two behind her, ready to do who-knew-what to her. The hooded face was utterly impassive, although this close she could see the tiny dots in the material over the eyes, whoever was inside able to see out. The heat was stifling now, her body slicked with sweat, the intruder still large within her, as sweat dripped down her forehead, a droplet falling from her nose. Where she was sat on the metal bench, her sweat was pooling, clammy and sticky. They tapped her on the forehead, then pulled out a syringe, already filled with some amber liquid. Bound against the pole, she couldn't move, as the nurse tapped the syringe, making sure it was safe. What had Sophia selected? She tried moving her arms, desperate to fight the person, the thing, off, but to no avail. They simply pushed her arms aside with their body, sticking the needle into a vein in her neck and pushing the plunger. The world went dark, dark and far too hot. Was this hell? The last thought she had before passing out was of Sophia, the scent and feel of her body, warm and soft and sweet. Trapped together in that locker, a rare moment of peace with another. And then the darkness overcame her, and her consciousness faded. |