Book Excerpt for Studying Submission V2: President's Pet

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.

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

Acknowledgements

Chapter One: An Isolated Institute

Chapter Two: Rough Roommates

Chapter Three: The Common Room

Chapter Four: Morning Routine

Chapter Five: Lessons Start

Chapter Six: The New Routine

Chapter Seven: The Student President

Chapter Eight: Dominance Play

Chapter Nine: Helping Out

Chapter Ten: Extra Credit Classes

Chapter Eleven: Inside Woman

Chapter Twelve: Sting Operation

Chapter Thirteen: Scheming and Relaxing

Chapter Fourteen: False Pretenses

Chapter Fifteen: Private Punishment

Chapter Sixteen: Public Judgement

Chapter Seventeen: The President's Gift

Chapter Eighteen: Council Meeting

Chapter Nineteen: Enforced Tuition

Epilogue: Promotion and Harvesting

About the Author

Maid Cage Club V2: Chapter 2, Two Month Vintage

Acknowledgements

Some more sado-masochistic bullying for you to enjoy!

Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

Chapter One: An Unexpected Invitation

Fran knocked on the door, before pushing it open, suppressing a flare of irritation. Being summoned like this, as though she were some flunky, some bitch to be called up at need, always irritated her! It's not as though she even had anything to do with the council of this finishing school - she just wanted to get out of here with as few problems as possible, then take her inheritance and go travelling. That her grandparents had spending two years in this place a pre-condition of her inheritance never failed to annoy - if they had just held on another few months, until she turned 22, then it would have been fine, but now she was stuck in this weird old school, all the way up in the mountains! She'd only been here a month and was going insane from boredom already.

As she entered, she curtseyed, the briefest she could get away with. The bitches here were all crazy about "etiquette" and "decorum", and she didn't want to have to endure another detention session - having her hands caned hurt, her fingers shaking and cramping for hours afterwards.

Inside was a large and plush office, the walls lined with old, leather-bound books and expensive-looking ornaments, a rug covering most of the floor, a heavy wooden chair in the center. Sat behind the desk was a young woman, wearing the same uniform as Fran - crisp red jacket, buttoned beneath her breasts, long black hair flowing down her back, a red tie contrasting with her white blouse. Having to dress like this was another annoyance - she wanted to dress however she wanted to, not having to follow stupid rules!

'You wanted to see me, President?'

'Please, sit.' The woman's voice was polite, faint trace of a European accent - maybe French? But it was too quick to be sure. 'And yes. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.'

Fran went to sit down - there was no cushion on the seat, the wood hard against her butt, the arm-rests slightly curved, her arms sliding naturally into place, the back uncomfortable against her spine, her jacket providing little cushioning. From here, she had to squint to see the President, a large window behind her letting in bright winter sunlight, jabbing into Fran's eyes.

She made herself smile - she just wanted to go back to her room and read, rather than getting involved in whatever weird internal politics they played at here! Something had happened a few weeks back, with lots of running and commotion, even a few fights in the hallways. No one had intervened, seemingly content to let it run its course. A few people had been absent for a few days, before reappearing, chastened and quiet from some punishment. Well, that was none of her business - she didn't want to get involved, at all.

The President rubbed her hands together - long, slender fingers, the nails neatly trimmed and painted bright, scarlet red, a luxury denied to the other students, making Fran suddenly conscious of her own plainer, drabber appearance. How long had it been since she'd had a manicure, or even proper hairstyling? Or anything fun, like going out, drinking and clubbing?

'You are something of a newcomer here, and seem to have managed to stay out of the... internal conflicts that sometimes arise. Do you not get lonely?' She stared at Fran, her gaze calm and even, a faint smile on her lips, tinted red with lipstick.

'I get by. And the library here is quite good.' As long as she could avoid the desperate lesbians there, grinding and humping between the shelves! She'd lost count of how many times she'd had to hide herself, not wanting to get dragged into some love affair, trying to read as lips sucked and tongues probed, some of them even eating each other out! And some had even invited her to join, groping her before she managed to make her escape.

The President nodded, before pulling gloves over her hands, bright blue medical ones, snapping the tight latex into place. 'Well, it's good to keep yourself engaged. We can be something of an isolated world here, with little else to engage our minds beyond each other.' She stood up and walked around the desk, revealing that her legs were long and partially-covered by thigh-high socks, her skirt short enough to show off a generous amount of thigh.

'It is rare for people to join partway through the term. But fresh blood can provide invigoration, and you are certainly striking to look at.' She leaned over in front of Fran, one hand running down Fran's cheek, before tugging on her hair, making Fran grimace. It was bright blonde, standing out amongst the dark stone and wood of this place. And getting her in trouble for having it dyed, even though it was natural!

In the chair, she couldn't move away, not without outright fleeing, the gloved hand eerily smooth against her skin, soft and warm.

'Thank you, President.' Nervousness started to ooze through her body - was she being hit on? She didn't know what the President could do, but if she could get caned just for being late to class, then probably something worse! And she wasn't really interested in women. She could smell the President - the faintly medical whiff of the gloves, mingling with the woman's own, sweeter scent, as she moved around behind Fran, making her feel even more nervous.

'Yes, when I first saw you, you helped me realize something.' A hand stroked over the top of her head, following the flow of one of her two hair-tails, the other stroking her shoulder. 'And there is something I wish to test.'

Fran tensed up, and then one hand slid around her throat, squeezing tightly, the other covering her mouth and squeezing her mouth shut. The President was leaning on her, pressing her into the seat with her own weight, as Fran tried to fight back. The fingers wrapped around her throat hurt, and she couldn't breathe, the latex gloves blocking the flow of air.

Fire burst in her lungs, and her vision started to fade and blur, painful shadows growing. She managed to get her feet beneath her, pushing herself upwards, even rising slightly from her feet, but the President was stronger than she looked, pushing Fran back down into place. She couldn't even think, or do anything more than panic, feeling her body weaken.

She slumped down, body out of her control. The hand's pressure relaxed, just for a second, and she sucked in a tiny amount of air. Everything was moving in strange bursts and skips, her brain too drained to fully perceive anything. She felt rope over her arms, looping around them, several twists drawing suddenly tight, binding her left arm into the curve of the chair. And then the same on the other side, both her arms now wrapped. The gloves stayed tight on her mouth and around her throat, carefully controlling the flow of air, just enough to keep her conscious but too weak to fight back.

Another figure walked in front of her - in the same red uniform, but Fran's vision was streaky and tear-filled, preventing her seeing any details beyond a long whip of brown hair, as they bent over, wrapping more rope around both of her ankles, tying them together, before tossing the rope upwards and pulling it taut, yanking Fran's legs up until they were straight out in front of her.

The hands relaxed, Fran spluttering and sucking air in, trying to fill the burning void in her lungs, the vicious darkness around the edge of her eyes starting to fade.

'Get off me!'

The hands tightened again, cutting off her protest. Their grip was so tight she couldn't even bite them, reduced to nothing more than weak, desperate burbles, before she was allowed another breath.

The President leaned in close, her own breathing soft against Fran's ear, before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

'You should be honored, Fran. I saw your lovely hair and couldn't resist - and that you have no protector means I don't even have to negotiate for you.'

'Mphhh!' What was going on? Why was this happening?

The other woman moved around, running her fingers along Fran's bare legs, before coming to her feet. Fran shivered, not liking the forced touch, before she felt her shoes getting plucked off, and then her socks as well, leaving her feet bare and exposed.

'Mphhhh!'

'Shhh, my lovely. Don't worry - you will enjoy this, I promise. Although it might take a while. I've done a lot of research. And there's another matter you can help me with.'

Fran could feel tears forming in her eyes, her lungs still desperately burning, denied the air she needed, the surgical gloves horribly close and tight against her face, the President careful to allow her just enough air to keep her conscious.

'And then there's that wonderful pride of yours! So self-assured and confident. Most of us have been here so long that we're used to this place, only able to see each other. But you - you're something different. You can help guide me, and serve me in that way.'

The hand let go of her throat, moving down her chest and reaching beneath her jacket, squeezing one of her breasts, just lightly. The contact sent a ripple of pleasure through Fran, although she could feel the fear-sweat that had oozed from her body, making her clothing stick to her body.

'Now, to start with, I need to make sure that you won't get any... troublesome thoughts. Don't worry, unlike some others, I don't want to break you utterly, but I do need to be assured of your loyalty.' The fingers continued to squeeze her breast, before popping buttons open, one after another, her blouse opening up.

'You could refuse, of course. But then there are other factions that would claim you... and they would be far rougher. I'm sure you've wondered where your old roommate went?'

Fran shivered as fingers stroked against her bare soles, just lightly, but enough to make her twitch and shake, the President chuckling.

'Ticklish? I shall have to have that added into your records. And it will make later training more entertaining.' There was another breast-squeeze, and then the hand retreated, a glossy square appearing in front of Fran's face. It took her long moments to realize that it was a polaroid picture - it showed Johanna, her old roommate, except she was naked and spreadeagled, rope around her limbs, her skin well-marked with welts and bruises, a large rubber gag-ball forced between her lips, her eyes wet with tears.

'One of a series - and I have yet to find the rest, or who took them. Johanna was recovered, but was unable to provide any useful information, unfortunately. It is possible that you would be next - as someone with no allies, you have scant protection.'

The fingers continued to stroke against her soles, her shaking tremors getting worse and worse, making her legs twitch and jolt, the rope snapping taut, preventing her from moving away from the tickling fingers.

'I think a taste of the bastinado may help as well - we can keep the tickling for later.'

'Yes, Madame President.' The other woman turned away, her face veiled behind the long hair, as she walked to a bookshelf and came back with a cane. Fear shot through Fran, the long, whippy rod placed against her foot, moved backwards and then slicing forward.

As it hit, she yelped with pain, feeling the impact bite into her skin, a vicious stinging flare that shot all the way up her legs. The President continued to grope and stroke her breasts, her touches light and soft, even as the cane struck, again and again, each one biting deeper and deeper.

'For now, at least, nothing with obvious marks.'

'Mphhh!' The pain was brutal - even worse than the caning she'd taken to her palms. That had only been five strikes, and she'd already lost count of how many this was. The hand returned to her throat, squeezing more brutally now, her vision rapidly growing dark. She felt a shameful looseness between her legs, and then hot wetness spilled out, gushing between her thighs, her strength gone.

'Good. I'm impressed you lasted that long. I certainly didn't have as much stamina when it was done to me.' Lips kissed against Fran's ear again, a tongue gently sliding against the curves of her skin, tickling and teasing. Fran could feel the wetness soaking into her panties and her skirt, making her feel disgusting and dirty.

'If you wish, you can leave like that. Or you can leave naked. Or...'

The fingers released her throat, the other hand moving away from her mouth and nose, letting Fran pant in air, the fog in her head only slowly fading. Her arms were far too weak to try and break out of the rope, but she could at least breathe now, and speak!

'What the fuck is OWWW!' Her words were interrupted by another swipe of the cane against her feet, the other woman giving her a bizarrely happy smile. What the hell was this?

'I feel it is best to start any relationship from a position of strength. But don't worry - I want you obedient, but not broken.'

The hot, sticky wetness between her thighs horrible, Fran unable to escape it. The President stepped over to her desk, leaning over, her skirt riding up to reveal her buttocks, a lacey thong between them. When she turned around, she was holding a camera.

'No! Get that away from me!'

The President leaned in, pulling Fran's skirt upwards, revealing her damp and dirty panties, then taking a picture.

'Don't worry. If you're a good girl, then I'll let you burn these. But otherwise, then... well, you are attractive and wealthy enough that I'm sure there would be some interest in such things.'

The cane sliced the air again, Fran yowling in pain, her soles on fire. The President moved behind her, using both hands to slide beneath her blouse and bra, squeezing her breasts, the gloves still making her hands smooth on Fran's skin. The mixture of pain and arousal addled Fran's thoughts, making it hard to think. When she inhaled, wanting to scream, the hands squeezed suddenly, crushing her breasts, making her exhale in sudden pain.

'The walls here are old, thick stone, my sweet little Fran. So no-one will hear you.' The hands lets go, before pulling off her blouse, tearing it from her body, the material ripping, pinching against Fran's body for a moment before breaking apart. 'Hmmm, that is a rather plain bra. I will have to see that you get something far nicer - I can't have my followers dressed so drably!'

Fingers pulled it off her body, the material too tough to rip, but her breasts were now uncovered, drawing more attention. Whenever she tried to think, then the cane cracked against her feet, her soles now feeling brutalized beyond belief.

A kiss against the top of her head combined with fingers stroking and teasing against her nipples, now hardening. Why was this turning her on? She wasn't a pervert! But it did feel good, or at least helped distract her from the pain.

'You are going to be mine. My sweet little blonde doll, for me to play with, and test things on. And, in time, you will be allowed more - I can assure you that it is better to assist with ruling than be forced to serve.'

After another breast-squeeze, the hands moved away from her chest, lifting her skirt up, and making her blush, a deep and furious heat spreading onto her cheeks. The gloves pressed against her wet panties, before peeling them off her body and reaching underneath them. She tried moving her arms and legs, but the ropes were too strong, as the fingers parted her lips, gently stroking there. And she could feel her body responding, an entirely unwanted sensation, her head light and fuzzy.

'Good. Your body is obedient.'

Fran could feel the President's breasts against the back of her head as a finger curved into her, gently teasing and stroking, ignoring the wet puddles against the seat of the chair. As it pushed into her, she tried to twist her hips, but it was already too deep inside of her body, easily pushing into her folds.

'Good girl. Good girl.'

There was no way to evade it, and she started to breathe faster as it stimulated her, her pussy tightening around it. The President's other hand pressed against her mouth again, less tightly now, but still enough to limit her breathing, making it impossible to protest, having to accept the use of her body, still feeling the shame of the hot liquid on her thighs and backside.

She sagged against the chair-back, her strength entirely gone, able to feel the softness of the President's body against the back of her head, long hair stroking against her face, drowning her in the President's scent, worming into her nose and brain. She was gasping in time with the fingering, the hand restricting her breathing to just short, sharp pants, feeling her lungs burn and ache, kept from the release even of unconsciousness.

The pumping of the fingers slowed, keeping her on the teasing, tantalizing edge of release.

'Soon, you will understand more. But for now, you simply need to be obedient. And then you will be rewarded.'

The finger twisted around, a thumb pressing against the hot, hard nub at the top of her slit, rolling it around. A lightning storm of pleasure crashed in on her, wiping any conscious thought away, her vision darkening and fading entirely, her body spasming and tensing against the ropes, her legs swaying from side-to-side, before she crashed completely, falling into darkness.

Chapter Two: An Agreement is Made

Fran squirmed in her seat, still able to feel the gross wetness, now cooler. Her mouth was now sealed, a rubber ball forced between her lips and strapped into place. She tried growling, wanting to express her frustration, but this was ignored, by both the President and her... aide? Assistant? Lover? The two of them seemed to be ignoring her, dealing with paperwork, having quick, murmured conversations, too quiet for Fran to hear. On the desk was the camera, the black box holding the pictures of her shame. She struggled against the ropes, feeling them scratch against her skin, her limbs prickling where they chafed, the flow of her blood interrupted.

After what seemed like a shameful eternity, the President put her papers aside with a sigh, twisting and cracking her neck.

'Now that has been dealt with, it's time for you.' She smiled when she looked at Fran, eyes predatory as she licked her lips, red tongue wet as it slid over them. 'You are attractive enough already, but I'm sure you will appreciate having access to cosmetics. There are certain benefits to being in my patronage. Although perhaps we need a better term? But you are now under my protection. That does impose certain costs on you, but you will also have greater freedom. At least in certain respects.'

She moved around the desk, approaching Fran, stroking her hair, Fran trying to flinch away without success.

'Governance here can be a little... chaotic. I would like to try and stabilize matters, so that some things may persist beyond the reign of a single President. And you can help me with that.' Her fingers played with Fran's hair, before stroking it back into order. 'As well as some other matters. You are certainly very appealing. In all sorts of ways!' The tone of her voice made Fran shiver - what the hell was going on here?

'We are going to get to know each other very well. You are going to be visiting here whenever I call for you.'

'Mmphhh!'

'Shhh, little Fran. You can resist, but it will be easier if you don't. Or perhaps you would like another round with the bastinado?'

'Nphhh!' Fran shook her head, feeling her hair flick about, phantom pains lancing through her feet.

'Good. Fear will do to start with, but soon we will be more friendly.' The hand stroked down over her chin, wiping away dribble that had oozed around the gag. 'There are many that would desire your position - I would advise you to watch out for them. You've managed to avoid any of the struggles that take place here, but now you will have to take part. I would advise you to be careful - there are many that will seek to use you, or replace you. While you need not fear losing my affection, unless you are very foolish, but others will not be so kind.'

As the hands stroked over her face, Fran tensed up in fear, not wanting to be choked and strangled again. Was the woman insane? But there was no way to escape, so she'd have to deal with it, at least for now!

'Let's get you washed up, and I've got a new uniform for you. And a few new accessories. First of all, something to show your new allegiance, of course.' Fingers stroked over her neck, making her skin crawl, before the President clicked her fingers, her assistant handing over a black leather band that held a metal plaque. This was pressed against her neck, the leather slightly cold, before a sharp little metal click sounded out.

A collar! The bitch had put a collar around her neck, locking it on, like she was a dog! She tried to growl again, but the sound seemed pathetic and weak.

'Good girl.'

The thing felt tight, too tight, against her throat, making her gulp panicked breaths around the ball forced into her mouth. Her spit was smeared down her body, between her breasts, making her feel even dirtier and more pathetic.

'I will take it ill if that is removed - and without it, others will assume you have lost my favor and take the chance to strike. That will likely end badly for you. Now, I am going to release you - unless you want to have to go back to your room as you are, I would advise cooperation. Nod if you agree.'

Fran whimpered, before gathering herself up and nodding, hating the way that the collar touched against her neck, too tight and too close.

'Very good. Your obedience is appreciated.' Her touch was delicate and soft, her fingers gentle as they roamed over Fran's body, before moving to her wrists, pulling on the knots to release Fran's arms. She twisted her wrists, feeling blood start to flow back, no longer blocked by the ropes. Her legs swayed, still bound by the ropes, before the President turned around, releasing those bindings as well.

Her feet dropped to the floor, stinging from the bastinado-strikes, but she forced herself to stand, her stomach, thighs and crotch all drenched with her fluids. She moved her hands up to her neck, feeling the collar and pulling on it - the leather only had the slightest give, a metal padlock on the back of her neck sealing it shut.

'Mmphhh!' The collar wouldn't shift, but she stroked her hands along the gag-strap, finding the buckle and unstrapping it. A thick flow of spittle flowed from her mouth, splatting onto the rug, before she tossed it aside, twisting her jaw, the muscles stretched and aching. 'What the hell is...'

The President raised a hand, palm flat, making Fran flinch back, not wanting to be slapped.

'Manners, Fran. I expect you to speak properly and politely. Especially to me. Now, strip, and then you can wash yourself.'

Fran covered herself with her hands, trying to cover her breasts and crotch.

'You can always keep that if you want? But I think you'd rather have something clean? Now, strip off completely. Last chance, before you are thrown out like that.'

Fran shivered, but there seemed little choice but to obey, and so she peeled off her skirt and the soggy remains of her panties, forcing herself to stay calm, not liking the cool, amused way the President and her assistant were both looking at her, their eyes bright.

'Can I go and wash now?' There were two doors in the back corner of the room - one must lead to a bathroom. She tried to sound confident and sure, but being naked and covered in dribble made that hard! Fran started walking towards them, determined to at least do something.

The assistant moved in front of one of them, pressing herself against it before pushing the other open with her foot, clean and shiny tiles appearing.

'Your new uniform has been laid out. The door will remain open.'

Fran brushed past her, wincing as her tortured feet touched cold tiles, but she wanted to be clean! There was an old-fashioned free-standing bathtub, but also a shower-cubicle, which she stepped into and turned on, hot water sluicing down over there. There was no curtain, exposing her to the gaze of the other women, but it was good to wash the sticky mess of her body. It was impossible to both keep the women in view as they watched from the doorway, and to hide herself, so she tried to be as quick as possible.

Her pussy was still sensitive from the finger-fucking, tingling with pleasure, and she wanted to stroke herself more, but not while being watched by those two perverts! The hot water felt good, but being observed, both of them watching from the door, made her flush with shame, before she cut the water off, and dried herself, glad to be able to cover herself up.

There was a uniform hanging from the wall, crisp and neat - although the bra was a lacey lingerie one, fancier than what she had been wearing, but unnerving to get as a gift. And there were no panties! But she dressed herself, finding that the skirt was shorter, stopping several inches above her knees, the bra soft and supportive, dark enough to be slightly visible through her blouse, making her glad of the blazer, covering her up further. Lastly were her socks, coming up to just below her knees, giving her slightly more coverage, and hiding the welts on her feet, still aching.

'Excellent.'

Fran tried to pull her shirt collar up, wanting to hide the leather band around her neck, the thing feeling tight and strict, just shy of being strangled.

'Now, over here.' The President gestured at her, and Fran shivered before walking forward, there being no other way to escape. As soon as she got close, the President reached out and tweaked at her shirt-collar, her fingers strong and soft against Fran's neck, tweaking her shirt collar.

'This is who you are, now.' Her fingers brushed over Fran's shoulders, making small tweaks and adjustments to the fit of the blazer, adjusting it until she was satisfied. 'Good girl. And from now on, you are prohibited from wearing any panties without my permission.' The smile and polite voice made the statement somehow even worse - she could feel the draught beneath her skirt, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. 'If anyone else tries to interfere with you, then let me know, and I will have them dealt with.'

After another tweak, she moved around behind Fran. 'And you are to keep your double-ponytails. I think they look good on you. And make sure to keep your hair clean and tidy - it is such a lovely bright blonde!'

Fran's hands clenched, her nails prickling her palms. She could see the camera on the desk, just sat there - could she try and grab it? The other woman was stood in front of the closed door, obviously guarding it. But there was no way she'd be able to get to the camera and then out of the door before getting stopped herself... And the wooden chair was still there, the rug beneath it still dark with her fluids. She didn't want to be tied down again!

'What are you going to do with me?'

Hands stroked against her backside, through her skirt, making her acutely aware of her lack of panties again. The President was only slightly taller than she was, her breathing soft and warm against Fran's cheek and ear.

'You have caught my attention. And I need supporters that aren't affiliated with any of the existing factions - such neutral players are rare.' A hand grasped her chin and turned her head, the President giving her a kiss on the lips. 'I only ascended to this position as a compromise between others, and have no desire to be ousted. So you are going to help me. This was the easiest way to get your attention. And there will be compensations, don't worry... As long as you are loyal.'

The woman's touches were making her heat up again, a warm softness spreading through her body, the President's scent worming into her nose. She wanted to break away, only kept in place by fear and doubt, as the President embraced her from behind, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other moving between her thighs.

'We are going to have a lot of fun together.' The hand slid between her thighs, up beneath her skirt, Fran squirming her body, unable to keep the fingers from pushing upwards, getting close towards her slit, still damp and warm from earlier. 'I have plans for you, and for this place, and our fellow students. But it will take a lot of work.' Despite Fran's resistance, a finger still slid across her lower lips, making her squeal. 'You will be obedient to me, but you will find that you have a certain power amongst the other students. There will be certain tasks I will assign you, which I expect you to fulfil to the best of your abilities. And you will report here, every day, for further training.'

Fran tensed up, managing to pull herself away from the President, nails scratching against her thighs, making her wince in pain.

'I'm not your, your... pet!'

Her hands rose to the collar, pulling on the leather, trying to pull it off, feeling it tighten in place, the material too strong to break.

'No, you are more valued... or at least you will be. Support me, and you will have power and privilege. Fail me, and events will go rather less well.' The confidence never left the President's voice, even when Fran spun around to glare at her, still pulling on the collar. The faint smile was infuriating, making Fran want to slap her across the face, to make her show pain!

The President stepped forward, before Fran could react, pressing herself against Fran, embracing her tightly and kissing her fiercely on the lips, sucking all the air from Fran's lungs, a weak tremor running through her knees, a disturbing twinge of pleasure sparking in her pussy. Her tongue thrust into Fran's mouth, hot and wet, hands groping over her breasts, before she pulled away.

'Do not disappoint me, Fran. And do be careful - I want to have a lot more fun with you.'

It was hard to think, her brain fuzzing, body going soft and melty, her anger fading away, replaced by frustrated lust. A hand slid down her back, flipping her skirt up and squeezing her backside, digging deep into soft meat.

'Hmmm...' The President made a pleased sigh as she groped at Fran further, grinding her crotch against Fran's hip. 'Such a lovely body! And that anger in your eyes is delightful. Just channel it appropriately.' The ass-mauling got stronger, fingers sinking deeper into ass-meat. 'And I want you dressed appropriately at all times - I will supply fresh uniforms for you.' There was another kiss, Fran's thoughts sluggish and dazed, her arms now limp.

'Mrhmmm...' All she could do was murmur weakly, as the President shoved her up against the wall, shoving a knee between her legs.

'As you now in my service, then I will permit you to use my name.' Another kiss, long and hot, the ass-groping making Fran's head spin. 'Veronica Fournier. Although in public, you are to refer to me as "Student President Fournier". My position is precarious enough that I cannot brook any disrespect.'

Fran was off-balance now, only supported by the wall behind her, the President's - Veronica's - knee pushing up between her thighs, spreading her legs. She could feel breasts squashing against her own, the warmth of their bodies merging.

'Mmmm, you taste as sweet as I imagined!' The President broke the kiss again, licking her own lips. 'But don't forget your loyalties.' She stepped back, suddenly cool and professional again, tweaking her own uniform back into orderliness, tidying herself up. 'And you are to obey Rachel as if she were me.' She gestured at the other woman, her assistant, who gave a half-bow, staring at Fran with a slight scowl. 'She will also help to train and discipline you, should such be required. But I would rather that the two of you work together. I have also made some changes to your schedule, to better suit my needs, and ensure that you are taught everything that you need to know. Oh, and you are not to go into that room.' She pointed at the other door from her office, where Rachel was still stood.

Fran tried to steady herself, gasping for breath, her nipples hardening beneath her clothing, air sliding against her thighs. When Veronica stepped away, she almost fell, just barely able to stay standing, having to push herself backwards, gasping for air.

'I expect to see you here tomorrow, at the same time. But you should go and get some food now - go to the common room and have some lunch. I don't want you suffer too much on my behalf. And take note of how others react to your collar - that will be an education for you, I think.'

All Fran could do was stand there and gasp, struggling to think, Veronica snapping her fingers several times, Fran's will only slowly returning in time with the loud clicks, her red nails flicking through the air. She found herself stumbling forwards to the exit, struggling to focus, just about managing to get her shoes, her legs slow and weak, desire still throbbing between her legs.

Chapter Three: The Common Room

Being outside made Fran feel a little better, no longer being groped by the President. Her hands tensed up, her irritation flowing through her, the collar seeming hot and tight around her neck. She tugged at it, feeling it rub against her neck, the padlock clinking again. Could she break it? But then she might get in trouble with Veronica. What the hell was with that bitch? Was this whole place crazy? Having so many young women stuck here without anywhere to go, all isolated in this place, without any men, was bound to drive some of them crazy, but she'd never expected to get tied up and groped.

The stone hallway made her footsteps echo loudly, rain splatting against the windows from outside, a chill draught running through the air. It slid up her skirt, making her shiver, reminding her of the lack of panties, making her blush, feeling heat prickle her face. And this skirt was shorter than she normally wore! Just about long enough to pass as a uniform, not quite part of a slutty schoolgirl outfit, but short enough that she'd show off her lack of underwear if she ever bent over or walked up some stairs.

She growled again, shoving open the door to the common room, the smell of tea, coffee and cake helping to soothe her. Groups of other students were clustered around, sat in their small groups, each having staked out their own territories, the different cliques only rarely mingling. She didn't want any part of it - she just wanted to do her time and then claim her inheritance and get the hell out of here! This whole place was creepy and weird, and that was before someone had started trying to turn her into some kind of lesbian love-slave!

The only women not in uniforms were in crisp black-and-white maid uniforms, Fran envying them their long skirts, even if the petticoats did look inconvenient. And what kind of finishing school had maids, anyway? At least ones that dressed in proper old-fashioned uniforms, with starched white caps and pristine aprons. It was nice that she didn't have to do her own cooking and cleaning, but she had no idea what they were doing here - were they somehow students as well? Or was it a punishment thing?

One of them approached, looking at her with a disinterested expression, before her gaze dropped to Fran's neck, narrowing in confusion. Her expression changed, as she looked at Fran with greater interest, curtseying at her.

'Would you like a drink, madame? Or cake? We have coffee cake today.'

Madame? And personal service? She'd never been offered either before, having to line up and wait.

'The cake sounds nice. And some coffee. Strong!'

'Yes, madame.'

Another curtsey, and then the maid turned around in a swirl of petticoats, walking away with swift steps. What was that about? But she wasn't going to complain if it saved her from the queue! And, unlike the queen bees and chief bitches here, she didn't have a coterie to do stuff for her.

She managed to find a seat in the corner, tucking her skirt beneath herself before as she sank into the old, cracked leather, keeping her legs tightly pressed against each other, still blushing, even though a low table would probably block the view of anyone looking. The background conversation was thrumming, various groups chatting, Fran ignoring them. It wasn't long before the maid returned, putting cake and coffee down. The slice was huge, far larger than what was normally served.

'A pleasure to serve, madame. As you serve.'

Fran froze, her hand partway towards reaching out for the cake-fork. The maid winked at her, before raising a hand to her own neck, tapping at the collar there. A thick black band was around her neck, a metal name-plate over her throat, along with a ring to clip a leash onto, just like a dog.

'If there is anything else, please let me know. Or if you wish me to... clean your room. I could visit later?'

Damn lust-crazed lesbians! The maid was attractive, but Fran wasn't into women. Although the thought of grabbing her by the collar-ring and slapping her, taking out some of her frustration, was certainly tempting, but that would draw too much attention. The skin beneath her own collar was already prickling with sticky, sweaty heat, rubbing against her neck.

She grabbed at her coffee cup, using it to hide her furiously blushing face - although from the expression of the maid, the reaction had been noticed!

'No! Thank you. Just this is fine.'

The maid curtseyed, lifting her skirt, up and up and up, revealing stocking-clad legs, her scent wafting out from beneath, sweet and tantalizing, petticoats rustling. She lifted her skirt high enough to show off her crotch, a narrow metal plate locked over her pussy. The sight hypnotized Fran, impossible to look away from, before the skirts were dropped back into position with a sultry rustle.

'If you require anything, then let me know, madame.' With a final smile, the maid walked away, wriggling her backside, showing off her buttocks. Fran chugged the coffee, ignoring the fierce heat - was everyone at this place in heat? There was even another pair a few tables away, sloppily making out, humping each other, making slurping, sucking noises. She couldn't look away, feeling her body heat up, her bare crotch getting wet. She wasn't into that, just confused from the everything that had happened! It was hard to ignore the sounds though, the two women clearly both enjoying themselves, and each other.

The coffee and the cake both helped her to settle herself, trying to make herself feel calm. When she looked around, she spotted a few other collars - different colors, some bearing metal decorations she couldn't make out. But the groups seemed to be related - how had she not noticed that before? Not everyone wore a collar, but each group would only have one color or style in, never more. Was she now marked as the President's bitch? What the hell was this? Her fingers stroked against the leather band again, the material now warmed by her own body, skin crawling beneath it.

'Move it! We want to sit here.'

Fran's thoughts were interrupted by another woman, short and twirling auburn hair around her finger, her blouse open enough to show a generous amount of cleavage, her skirt rolled up to be even shorter than Fran's.

'You heard me! Stupid bitch. Clear off.' She waved her hand as she stared down at Fran, still playing with her hair. 'Go hide in your room or wherever people like you go.' There was a blue leather band around her wrist, glossy and polished.

Fran drew herself up, trying to ignore the feeling of having no underwear on, staring back at the woman, and then taking a slow, noisy sip of her coffee. After the day she'd had, she wasn't going to let some stupid brat chase her out of a seat!

She stared back at Fran, looking disbelieving, anger pinking her cheeks. She wasn't even someone that Fran had met before, just some dumb bitch throwing her weight around. 'Do you know who I am?' She held up her arm, showing off the leather band - it was over an inch wide, with a metal ring hanging down from it. Fran's anger boiled over and she grabbed at it, pulling downwards and slamming the woman's hand onto the table. This forced her to bend over, her expression turning to surprise.

Fran slapped her across the cheek, the palm of her hand impacting against the woman's face. The sound was loud, drowning out the conversation, everyone else going silent and turning to look. A bright red impact-mark, clearly showing the shape of Fran's hand, was now visible on the woman's cheek, her hand still tingling from the impact. Adrenaline started to pound through her, her heart racing, her other hand still holding the woman in position. She flicked her hand backwards, using the back of her hand to slap the woman's other cheek, as hard as she could, forcing the woman's head to turn from the force of the strike.

The room was silent now, everyone staring, Fran trying to control herself, not wanting to blush or show weakness as she spoke, careful to enunciate carefully.

'I was sitting here. There are plenty of other places you can go.' She twitched her hand, just slightly, the woman flinching away, in case of another slap. Fran kept their hand pressed against the table. 'I don't know, or care, who you are. Now go away!' She could see tears starting to sparkle in the corners of their eyes, gone wide with shock and pain. Fran moved her hand again, pulling the strike at the last moment, stroking their cheek, then sliding her hand upwards onto their head, through her long, carefully groomed hair, then grasping it and standing up. She felt the strands stretch and then snap under her grip, using it to drag the woman around, ignoring her gasps of pain.

Everyone was still staring at her as she dragged them behind herself, heads slowly turning to watch her movement, accompanied by small gasps and squeals of pain, getting louder whenever Fran tightened her grip on the hair.

'You see? You could sit here.' In the corner was a rickety wooden bench - but it was sturdy enough to be sat on. She pulled forward, forcing the woman to step around her, feet moving fast to try and avoid extra pain, and shoved her forward, so she stumbled and fell against the wall. 'That should suffice.'

She turned and walked away, not looking back, ignoring how everyone was staring at her, resisting the urge to pull her skirt down, hoping no-one could see that she was bare beneath. She sat back down again, glaring around, until conversation slowly resumed. Her hand still tingled from the slap, but the moment of impact, of hitting the bitch, forcing her to obey, had felt good, something that had been rare since she had been sent here!

About the Author

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.

Maid Cage Club V2: Chapter 2, Two Month Vintage

Velvet pressed her hand against the metal wrapped around her crotch, trying to push around it. It pinched into her skin, but she ignored the pain, wanting to slide a finger beneath it, to be able to touch herself properly. She could feel her own desperate wetness, so close, but locked behind the metal - and the transparent panel in front of her slit didn't help, letting her see how aroused she was in the mirror, as she tried to touch herself! The pressure-pain against her skin was increasing, the metal chafing against her finger, scratching her skin.

A flare of pain slapped against her buttock, the head of a crop impacting against her skin, jerking her out of her focus. She growled, before seeing the reflection of the Bunny-bitch behind her, petite body sheathed in her usual outfit, bunny-ears poking up from above her military cap. And tiny, even in her heels, not quite coming up to Velvet's shoulder.

'You knew what you were signing up for! And I didn't see you complaining about the payment.' She flicked her wrist again, the crop tapping against the chastity belt, before sliding against Velvet's thighs, making her spread her legs. Even that impact rippled through her, adding another pulse of pleasure to her annoyed frustration!

She growled again, before wincing at another strike, unable to move away.

'It's not like most of your fanboys even want to fuck you, they just like seeing you. And you've been drinking cum - isn't that enough?'

'No! I want to be fucked! And not in the ass, that's just not the same.' She tightened her buttocks, able to feel the metal band there, holding them apart, her asshole accessible. 'And having the nurses tie me down to keep me shaved is even worse.' The damn bitches liked to tease - not just keeping her pussy nice and neat, but also sliding their latex-wrapped fingers over her slit, tapping and probing, getting her close to the edge before cooling her off with an ice cube.

'Oh, is that what the screams were? I had wondered.' The Bunny-bitch moved closer in, wrapping her arms around Velvet, lifting up her latex skirt and sliding a hand between her legs, spreading fingers over the locked-off pussy. 'Well, it's your lucky day - enough people have bid on you that you might get released. So we need to put on a show.' She tapped a finger against the pussy-panel, making Velvet shudder again, biting her lip. 'So I want you to dress up nice and pretty. Maybe those long gloves you like, and something shorter and tighter than normal? I'm sure you want a nice high price, don't you?'

Velvet groaned, the pleasure throbbing, her thoughts scattered. She wanted to grab the bitch, tie her down and fist her, see how that tight, petite body reacted to a large and forced intrusion! Or even just a fuck-fest gang-bang, get that neat, black bustier of hers stained with cum, the same for her glossy black hair! She managed to suppress the moment of rage, tensing her hands until it was over.

'You mean it? I'm going to get fucked? Hard?'

'Probably. Your buyer might want to lock you away again, just for fun. But you've got your fanboy squad, so I'm sure at least one of them will want the chance to use you.' She was pressed tightly against Velvet from behind, who could feel her small breasts, as the crop slid over her legs, just above her latex stockings. 'So go dress up - I'll put you on first, so you've not got long.'

She pushed Velvet away, who was already peeling her usual dress away, loving the way the latex clung and peeled off her skin, letting her go in a kissing-caress. She was careful to hang it out - she'd have to properly clean it afterwards - before picking out a different outfit, one she'd wanted to save for a special occasion. But being fucked for the first time in two months was definitely special!

The skirt didn't even cover her buttocks, so short that the curves of flesh could be seen, along with the chastity belt. There was a transparent panel over her belly, showing off the soft skin and the dip of her navel, low enough to show off her sealed crotch as well. It had belt-straps around the waist, letting itself get tightened into a corset, emphasizing her waist, pushing her breasts up, and a nice, deep cleavage, to showcase her breasts as well. Every time she moved, the shiny material gleamed, even in the crappy lightning of the dressing room, and when she twisted her hips, she could feel it shift and rise slightly. Latex gloves covered her arms, leaving just a band of white skin on her upper arms, while her legs were sheathed in latex stockings, giving her nice plump thighs, helped by the three-inch heels. She tilted her head, making her hair flow over her shoulders, making sure that no strands were caught up, smiling and pouting at the mirror.

She was hot normally, but dressed like this, she was certain to get attention! And a nice high bid, and maybe even several? And in the pussy as well, not just more disappointment ass-fucks! As she dressed herself, other maids entered, getting their own clothing on, tending to their makeup, the air fogging with a haze of perfume and cosmetics..

Velvet gave the mirror a final pout, before turning and heading towards the main café. She could feel how wet she was, the metal pinching at her skin, her breasts feeling tight and hot against the bodice of the dress, the latex stretching and shifting as she moved. She loved the feel of it on her skin, tight and stretchy, closer than any lover's embrace, and the way it made her skin shine. She'd rather wear a bodysuit, to feel the same touch all over her body, clinging close and hot, but the bunny-bitch normally gave her shit for it, even if she wore a maid dress over the top. But it felt so good, and made her figure amazing. As she walked, she stroked herself, enjoying the way her latex gloves stretched over her arms and on her palms, feeling the softness of her breasts through the dress, tightening her thighs, suppressing another frustrated growl from the feeling of the chastity belt there.

Two months! Two bloody months, with only the occasional ass-fucking, as well as a lot of cock-sucking. The money had been good, but two months! Even with her fans paying up for pics, having to go without fucking for two months had been a torture. The closest she'd gotten had been the two nurses strapping her into their damn examination chair and teasing her, bringing her to the very edge and then using ice cubes and electricity to make her squeal. She shivered at the memory, feeling her body get even warmer.

There was already an audience, murmuring amongst themselves. Velvet saw a few of her fans, "V" badges catching the light and gave them a smile. Who would be renting her for the evening? Or maybe a group purchase? The way she was feeling now, it would take more than one man to satisfy her!

The lights changed, crowd fading into darkness, spotlights bursting into life, dazzling Velvet for a moment. When she could see again, the Bunny-bitch was stood at the front, microphone in hand, the chatter of the crowd going silent. Unusually, the nurses were with her, wearing their tight latex mini-dresses, a matched pair in black-and-white, faces covered by surgical masks, gloves and stockings sheathing their arms and legs.

'Good evening, everyone! Welcome to the Maid Cage Club, where your pleasure is our passion! Before the usual entertainments start, we have something special - little Miss Velvet, our latex lover and shiny queen, is now being released from her chastity!'

Velvet curtseyed, lifting up her dress to show off the metal belt, twisting her hips, enjoying being looked at, smiling into the darkness.

'Open bids, ladies, gentlemen and others! Who wants to be the first to see what two months without pleasure does to her? She's going to be lovely and wet and ready!'

She heard shouts from the crowd, and could see the movement of hands being raised, the price going up satisfyingly fast. Even with the club taking it's cut, it would be a nice bonus for her as well! Maybe enough for some new bodysuits? Or something custom? As it ticked higher and higher, she posed and preened, half-turning to show off her backside, then bending over to make her dress tighten over her breasts. She wanted someone with a lot of stamina, or, even better a group!

The bidding slowed down as she continued to pose, the Bunny-bitch working the crowd. Despite being a bitch, she was a good MC, encouraging the crowd, working them up and getting them excited.

A hand touched against her feeling, latex-smooth, the sensation making her purr in pleasure, before seeing it was one of the nurses, the one in white. Another hand pressed against her torso, fingers jabbing just beneath her ribs, making her wince and gasp. Fingers tightened on her shoulder, pulling her backwards, the other maids parting to let her through.

'And going thrice - the Miss Velvet fanclub! In a specially arranged "snap the choker" challenge.'

Velvet had to resist a groan. Oral throat-fuck? She wanted her pussy stuffed! But she let herself be dragged by the maid, not wanting those fingers to jab into her kidneys in painful little strikes. The other nurse was opening up the booth, revealing a device of shining steel, a heavy chair, a notch cut into the back, and heavy metal restraints, ready to bind the occupant. And a motorized dildo, positioned at the ready, between where her legs would go. It was a nice large one, covered with pleasing bumps and lumps, and she felt herself tingle again, wanting it inside of her already.

She pulled herself out of the grasp of the nurse, settling herself into the chair, feeling it leech away her heat, the metal chill against her skin. She could lean her head far back, feeling her throat stretch out, the world tilting, now mostly upside down. Her arms settled into place, metal cuffs fastening over her wrists, the padding on the inside making them a little more comfortable. More cuffs clicked around her ankles, holding her legs spread, air kissing against her inner thighs.

The white nurse brushed hair from Velvet's face, before sliding a finger over her throat. A band was passed over her skin - a choker made of thin fabric, prone to tearing. Well, at least if someone with a big enough cock fucked her throat hard enough! She wanted the dildo though, to have that cock thrusting into her, rough and hard. If she had that, then she didn't care what was done to her throat.

Everything being upside-down made it all seem strange, the lights shining down from the ceiling glaring in her eyes. The Bunny-bitch led a group of men - the winners, her fan-club - over to her, explaining the rules.

'...rough as you like, she's used to it. Whoever snaps the choker gets to fuck her sweet little pussy, which is sure to be nice and tight now. And our lovely nurses are testing a new device.'

Velvet tensed up. What new device? She just wanted to be fucked, she didn't want to be a test subject!

'They've got some numbing gel, so we can get Miss Velvet nice and warmed up for you, but without ever getting her too hot. At least until someone wins her.'

A latex-wrapped hand covered over Velvet's mouth, swallowing any protest she might have made, pressing down against her lips. More smooth fingers brushed over her thighs, touching against the belt, and she lifted her hips. There was a crisp, beautiful click, and she felt the pressure ease, the crotch-panel getting pulled away, blissfully cool air kissing against her cunt, her desire surging sharply enough to make her gasp. Fingers probed against her cunt, easily sliding into her, and she felt her body tighten, greedy for more, before they withdrew.

The dildo pushed against her, the tip just lightly penetrating. She couldn't close her legs - not that she wanted to - but when she tried to bump her hips forward, a hand pushed her down, before a band stretched across her belly, elastic but without enough give to let her take the cock into herself.

She growled from behind the gagging hand, glaring up into the eyes of the nurse. They laughed, the sound made strange by the surgical mask, before she withdrew her hand and stood aside.

Velvet could see her fanclub, all arranged, the first few already being stroked by some of the other maids, getting them prepared. The Bunny-bitch stalked forward, crop in hand, leaning over Velvet to slide it over her body. When it touched against her thigh, she shivered, and then it raised up and flicked down, cracking against the top of her slit.

She twitched, feeling the restraints easily take her movement, not letting her free, pain-pleasure coiling through her body.

'She's nice and ready for you! Let's see who can stretch that throat out!' The crop flicked again, hitting the same spot, tears forming in Velvet's eyes, her pussy still teased by the cock, just slightly entering into her. It was impossible to shift herself forward, no matter how much she wanted to! And her pussy ached, from the bloody Bunny-bitch and her bloody crop! Another stinging impact, making her body jangle and ache, but one of the men opened up his flies, his cock already half-erect. She opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out. It was a decent-sized cock, the tip red.

And then another flick of the crop, making her hiss in pain, her vision blurring for a moment. Hands grasped her head, cautiously at first before tightening, her view now limited by the man's shadow, his cock bumping against her lips. She could smell him, the scent of his soap as well as the fleshier, sweaty tang beneath, making her mouth water, as he drew back and then pushed his hips forward, the cock sliding between her lips, and into her throat. His balls slapped against her nose, the hair prickling her.

She let herself relax as much as she could, the cock sliding deep into her throat. The choker-band stretched, but didn't snap, as he started to twist his hips back and forth, balls slapping against her face. There was the vague background noise of the Bunny-bitch giving commentary, but Velvet could barely hear it, as she let the cock slide into her, twisting her tongue around, trying to get him off as soon as possible.

The cock pushed into her, making her gasp around the penis in her mouth - but it felt cold, her body not reacting. She mewled around the shaft in her mouth, wanting to feel the hot rush of pleasure and release, but there was nothing there - she could feel that she was filled and stuffed, but nothing else, despite how desperate she was!

And then the man came. A blast of cum in her mouth and down her throat, making her cough and splutter, the taste flowing over her tongue. She could feel her eyes water as it withdrew, the wet shaft slapping her face on the way out.

There was only a few seconds before the next one, a stronger grip, sliding straight into her mouth. This one was more forceful, thrusting his hips with greater vigor, his cock pumping all the way in then out again. Slobber started to spill from her mouth, down her face, and then onto her forehead, making her feel dirty and sticky. The cum-taste in her mouth, and the flavor of the fresh cock, was sending her into a swirl of lust. The dildo-shaft pushed deeper into her, spreading the numbing coolness - she could feel it penetrating into her, spreading her wide, but there was no pleasure, just the sensation of being filled.

The man pulled back, thrust forward, making her throat stretch out, pulling out again, and then he came. The blast of cum hit her in the cheek, a stream of sticky gobbets, the scent overwhelming. She went limp, although it was hard to think or force herself to move, as another man moved in, eager to start using her.

She just barely had time to swallow, taste of semen sharp and strong, before her throat was used again. The dildo was moving still, sliding in and out, and she had to force her body to tighten around it, trying to force herself to feel pleasure, but whatever those bloody nurses had put on it was making her numb and cold, making it impossible to get off. And she was tied into place, with a cock in her throat, so it was impossible to protest or do anything else, other than endure.

At least she had the satisfaction of a cock in her mouth, even if it was starting to make her throat sore - she'd never deepthroated in this position before! She pushed her lips together, suckling the hard cock-shaft, flicking her tongue over the crown, then the length as it shoved into her mouth. Hands gripped her head painfully tight, pressing against either side, dragging at her, the cock impaling her throat. She could feel the choker stretching over her throat, willing it to break - and then she could go and be fucked normally!

But it didn't break, as her throat was ravaged again, another blast of cum shooting straight into her throat. It was getting hard to breath now, her mouth blocked, her nose right up against the man's ball-sack, his cock remaining in her mouth, still hard even after his climax. His cum mixed with her spit, as she tried to push it out with her tongue, wanting the next cock already.

The dildo twisted in, the cold throbbing making her whine - it wasn't fair being made numb down there! She was so wet and loose that the dildo was sliding in easily, stretching her out, but there was no pleasure, at all!

As the cock withdrew, she gulped in several swift pants, trying to recover her strength, just long enough before another shaft impaled her throat. She was aching now - she'd be struggling to talk after this, her voice all raspy and rough.

This cock felt huge, or maybe her throat was just sore now, stretched out by the previous cocks. This one grasped her throat, a thumb pressing down on the top, making her feel the stretching out of her skin even more, as her throat was made to expand around the intrusion. How big was he? He felt huge! And the way he squeezed her throat - a firm grip, pressing down against his cock through her skin.

He squeezed again, and she went limp, unable to find the strength to do anything else, her vision blurring. The pressure on her throat started to change, and then she heard a distinct snap, the choker breaking. She managed to find the strength to wriggle, slapping her hands against the arms of the chair. Someone had won! Now could she have regular sex?

The cock continued to slide back and forth, as she twisted her hands around, grunting around the shaft. It withdrew, leaving her gasping, wincing as it slapped her across the face.

'And we have a winner!'

As her strength returned, she started to twist more, wanting to be set free. She still wanted to be fucked, even if she was numb, but that would need her being freed!

'Time for the competitor to claim his prize!'

The metal cuffs on her arms and legs both clicked open, and she sat up, ignoring the semen and spittle that was starting to crust on her face. She stood up and turned around, stepping towards the man, shoving the Bunny-bitch out of the way. The man still had his cock out and gawped at her, as she pressed in close to him.

'You are going to fuck me raw! And I'm not letting you go until you make me cum.' She reached down and squeezed his balls, not letting go and dragging him away, using her other hand to finger herself, trying to restore heat and pleasure to her body. She'd get off if it was the last damn thing she did!