EXTRACT FOR
The Hunter's Game
(Melissa DuVant)
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Saint Michael's University: Hunter's
Game 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 7: Artistic Assistance Chapter 8: The Illusion of Choice Chapter 10: Questions Are Asked Chapter 11: Hot Room for an Ice Queen Chapter 13: Information and an Unpleasant Task Chapter 19: To The Victors, The Spoils Chapter 20: The Victor, Revealed Chapter 21: An Unwanted Conclusion Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter 5: Uncertain Roles To Stefan - thanks for commissioning this, and supporting the kinky arts! And having good taste in dommes and subs. Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. 'Excellent, that's everybody now.' Warm evening sunlight poured through the window of the art studio, illuminating the half-finished pieces, paintings of bound and tormented flesh still on easels. A few plinths had models on, submissives trapped in metal armatures to make sure they didn't move or change pose, every limb and joint carefully locked into place. They were entirely naked except for leather hoods, making them anonymous, nothing more than curves of flesh to be drawn. Two of them were stood opposite to each other, a white sheet held taut between them, a projector spraying light onto it. Samantha sat down, straightening herself in the chair, taking out a notebook and pen. Ms. Aith was posed in front of the window, the sunlight streaming through her gauzy dress, showing off the lush curves beneath, simultaneously showing herself off, but without revealing her skin. Other students were sat down as well - all female, dressed in various customized versions of the university uniform. The pleated skirts ran from micro-length to ankle length, blouses ranging from crisp and neat, to sloppy and messy. All of them were on the course for dominants, although Samantha didn't know most of them. 'A delight to see all of you, bright and ready for the annual hunter's game! You may have heard rumors of this, or even been involved around the edges of it. But this year, you will be participating yourselves! The game will last one week, starting at 6 PM tonight, when the bells toll. Each of you will be assigned various tasks, which you must complete to the best of your abilities. I expect to see each of you every day, in order for you to get your assignments. If I do not see you every day, you are considered defeated, as you are probably restrained somewhere and unable to play. To prove you have completed them, then a photograph or video recording will be acceptable evidence - I'm sure you all have mobile phones. An artful photograph would be preferable, but that might be personal biases speaking!' Samantha started to take notes, her writing neat and precise. 'Each task completed will reduce your tuition fees by an amount related to how difficult the task is. Should the patrons of the university enjoy the videos, then they may also contribute more themselves. You may recruit others to assist you with tasks as desired as well - although they must be done by yourself, without substitutions. However, to make things more interesting, one of you will be the "hunter". Their role is rather different, in that they wish for everyone else to fail.' Samantha glanced around at the other contestants - did the traitor know who they were already? The woman next to her looked back at her - she was wearing thigh-high white leather boots, and matching full-length gloves, the only skin she was showing being a little band around the top of her boots, and her face. Her hair was pale as well, tied into a high ponytail. She was clearly working a theme! 'They have a marker-stamp. Any contestant revealed to have been marked with it is considered "defeated", and will be moved onto a special course for submissives immediately. A very intense course - I'm sure any of you placed onto it will appreciate it!' Samantha didn't want to end up on that! She much preferred being dominant and in charge, rather than having to submit to the whims of another. And her skin was much too soft to endure the lashings of a whip or crop, and she would rather not have to go through the indignity of deepthroat training or anything similar! 'The mark is indelible and quite distinctive. I designed it personally!' She reached beneath her gauzy clothing, pulling out a small, dark block - that must be the stamp? Did that mean that the hunter hadn't been picked yet? Ms. Aith brought it down with a swift motion, putting it onto the back of her hand, then raising it so it could be seen. Against her dark skin there was now a complicated circle-swirl, about the size of a large coin. 'Quite a complicated pattern, but such is necessary to ensure there is no fakery. The stamp itself has already been distributed - this is my personal copy, that can be used for authentication, if such is needed.' A faint stir went through the room, everyone shuffling a little away from each other. It didn't look as though it would take much force to leave an impression - certainly less than a slap or spank. Someone could be marked and not even realize it! Maybe she should start wearing longer skirts? Although she did like the way her current mini-skirt combined with her stockings and suspenders, but having exposed skin seemed a definite disadvantage. 'Here is a close-up of the pattern.' It seemed more like Ms. Aith was showing off now, but the projector clicked, a slide moving across onto the sheet, showing the pattern in more detail. It was quite impressive as a piece of workmanship, but the thought of having it stamped onto her skin, and having to attend submissive training, made Samantha feel nervous! She liked being dominant and in charge, rather than servicing and pleasing others - and being able to dress how she wanted to, rather than according to the whims of a dominant. 'Anyone that loses will be remanded into my custody.' She gestured at some cages along the wall. 'Of course, the hunter may have some fun with you before. Or even keep you restrained for the entire duration of the contest! That has happened before. However, any of you may accuse another of being the hunter. Should a majority of the survivors accuse the same person of being the hunter, and you are correct, then the hunter will lose, and the victors will be allowed to punish her, before she is assigned to her new submissive position. Should the hunter win, then all of their costs and tuition fees will be waived - and they will likely have a rather impressive portfolio of images and videos to display.' She smiled at them, stepping out of the hazy sun-glow, still posing to show herself off. 'This is an example of the sort of task you might have to do.' The projector clicked again - why was she using such an old-fashioned thing? But, then again, most of Ms. Aith's preferences seemed to lean that way, even if it was in an elegant way. The next slide showed a woman bent backwards over a suspended beam, tied there with rope. Fragments of her uniform still clung to her body, but it had mostly been torn off. Her face was hidden beneath a rough sack, while her tense stomach and hips were covered with lipstick marks, bright against her belly, most of them focused around her crotch. There was a distinct sheen to her thighs, showing the pleasure that had been forced onto her. And just beneath her navel, there was a stamp-mark, this one of cross-hatched lines. 'Her task was to be restrained on the beam for an hour. Unfortunately, she was caught there by the hunter, who had some fun with her. But she came to enjoy her time training as a submissive, and is now happy with her master.' Click, another slide. This time it was a tall blonde, Samantha unable to resist running a hand through her own, similar, hair. She was blindfolded, with one hand cuffed onto a railing, the other between her legs. Her skirt gave partial cover, but it was possible to see that she was holding a dildo, the thing largely inside of her body, her mouth sealed with a fat gag, dribble making her chin shiny and bright. 'A successful task - she had to cuff herself in a certain location and bring herself to orgasm three times. This next one is one of my personal favorites - the artistry is, I'm sure you'll agree, quite impressive.' As the next slide came up, Samantha had to try and figure out what she was seeing - a female figure, no, two of them, bound and contorted around each other's bodies, wrapped with rope and suspended in a web, in a massively-complicated shibari tie. And with a long dildo in both of their mouths, more forced into their pussies and assholes. Just out of reach, tauntingly close to their hands, were scissors, dangling from a string. And both had a stamp-mark on their bodies. 'They had been assigned a task to put themselves into suspension, and asked a friend for help. That friend found it more amusing to do this, and then the hunter found them. Quite impressive ropework, I'm sure you'll agree!' It was, but being bound up that tightly, especially with toys forced into every hole, seemed a little rougher than Samatha liked! Doing that to someone else could be fun, but she'd rather be restraining others, than being restrained herself. 'Several submissives have also been assigned to help with this task, and adjudicate in case of problems. Of course, they may have their own agendas and desires, so be careful and don't assume they will be entirely obedient! And, in the case of any rules disputes, I will be the final judge and arbitrator. Unless there are any other questions, then I would like each of you to introduce yourself, so that you are all known to each other. Oh - one final rule. Just to make things simpler, you may not lie about being involved in the game. That is simply dull, as a strategy. There is no dropping out or surrender either - once it starts, the only way out is through. So, Samantha, if you would like to come up first.' Samantha tucked her notebook away and then rose, turning on a heel to face everyone else. 'I am Samantha Carrington, a third-year dominant.' She made sure to stand straight and proud, sweeping her gaze across the room, not letting her nervousness show. 'I will be working with you all to find and punish the hunter.' She returned to her seat, making notes on each of the others as they rose. Valeria Wolff: First year. White leather boots and gloves. Dislikes touch? Heard she doesn't like semen/bodily
fluids. Skilled sadist, fencer. Sarah Holcombe. First year, very sporty and tough. Hard to physically restrain, but not very
good at tying/anything complicated, and impatient. Ayaka Kunikida: Third year. Likes to inflict intense pain. Cute but scary, and knows it. Qualified tattooist and body-piercer. Beatriz Carvalho. Second year, ex-submissive, "the Watchdog". Hyperactive?
Johanna Fischer: Third year, confident,
unused to being challenged. Amanda "Raven" Blackcroft: Second
year. Very "alt", lots of tattoos. Pale skin, would
look lovely with some whip-marks on. Chiara Avana: Second year. Aggressively bisexual. Never submitted, physically flexible. Natural hourglass figure, and a face I want
to make cry. Victoria Mason: Second year. Spiky personality, pushes herself hard, wants
to seem strong and tough. Would make a
good pony-girl. Penelope Greenhithe: Second year. Plump and lush-looking, makes me want to bite
her. Firm-handed and sensible, good with
chains and pets. Seo-yeon Cho. Second year (?). Quiet, think she's into technology and
automation. Quite petite, her
submissives seem a little terrified.
Physically weak. A bell tolled out, deep and brassy, the reverberations rolling through the room, overpowering any sound that anyone could make, forcing silence onto them all. Everyone had to wait until the sound had died away completely, before Ms. Aith spoke. 'Very good! Now, the games have begun. Do have fun - and try not to hold any grudges afterwards.' Ms. Aith held up a velvet bag, giving it a shake. "Now come get your assignments.' There was a final, crashing dong of the bell, everyone starting to file out, keeping a cautious distance from each other, in case of any sudden lunging attacks with the stamp. Samantha stuck her hand into the bag, feeling solid, circular disks inside, pulling one of them out. With everyone else around, she didn't dare look at it, in case someone else saw it, heading for the door. Samantha strode down the hallway, trying not to constantly look around herself in paranoia, her task clutched in her palm. The other competitors had quickly dispersed, no-one trusting anyone else enough to stay around. The shadows were lengthening, every darkened doorway and junction now seeming threatening - although it was unlikely the hunter would be so brash just yet, for fear of being discovered and outed! She pressed herself into an alcove, taking out the disk and looking at it - another of Ms. Aith's custom pieces, about twice the size of a poker chip, with paper twisted around it, which she unrolled, to see what she had been assigned. The competitor must walk, naked except
for a rope harness (inc. crotch rope) across the main hall with hands cuffed
behind her back and her mouth gagged. Her hand twitched, an involuntary flush coming over her cheeks. That would expose her entirely - if she were to encounter anyone else during that walk, she'd be at their mercy, unless she could manage to flee! And the main hall was a large, open space, with her pale skin likely to stand out against the old, grey stone. She took out her notebook, trying to settle herself by making plans - it would clearly be impossible to do during the day, but curfew was at 9 PM, and so it should be quiet after then. But she'd need to evade anyone keeping an eye out for curfew-breakers. The last time she'd had a run-in with them it had been rather unpleasant! Her butt was far too pretty to be caned. Cuffs with a timer-lock would be easy to get, so that she wouldn't have to rely on anyone else to release her, and the same for a gag. Recording herself would be complicated, so she'd need to find a submissive she could trust for that - and one that wouldn't try and take advantage of the situation! But at least she wouldn't be hooded or blindfolded, so would have some capacity to respond to what was happening. Her page started to fill as she made more notes, mentally going through what she would need. And who could she use to record this? One of her own dorm-submissives would be most reliable - possibly Bethany? She could be rather moody, but was reliable enough, at least when threatened with a spanking or more time in chastity. That just left timings - straight after curfew would still have too many people around. Perhaps around 10 or 11 PM? Most people would likely have gone to sleep by then, or at least be secure in their dorms, and the initial patrols would have moved on. It was risky, but that was the point of the entire game - and if she could get some of her costs waived, then it would be worth it! And so, with another cautious look around, Samatha stepped out of the alcove and headed for her dorm, to get everything she needed. Tonight definitely seemed a night to skip going to the canteen for supper, just in case she got stamped in passing! Several hours later, night had fully fallen, the hallways of the university now sheathed in shadow, pale moonlight shining through the windows, with just a few lights on the corners and by the doors. Samantha could feel the rope harness, tight around her body, an inescapable embrace, chafing whenever she moved too much. And the crotch-rope! She shouldn't have done such a good job, as she could feel the hard little lumps of the knots there, rubbing against her inner walls, making it hard to move fast without being overcome with the sensation. In private, it might have been entertaining, especially with a submissive to play with, but being out in public, even with no-one looking and a jacket to cover herself, made the pleasure mingle with hot shame. She should have worn different shoes as well - her heels made her legs look good, but made her hips tighten up, so she could feel the rope between her buttocks and in her pussy even more acutely, with every step having the danger of making noise against the hard floor. Samantha tugged on the leash, dragging Bethany along behind her, ignoring the woman's gagged grunt of annoyance. She was having one of her "moods", needing slaps and spanks to coerce into movement, hand-marks visible on her face. 'Once we're done, then I'll let you have a treat - you can have an orgasm and some cake.' 'Mphh.' Bethany didn't sound very happy about it, but the oversized ball-gag in her mouth stilled any complaint she might have made, and she let herself be dragged along without further complaint, although her heels also made sharp little noises. Each one made Samatha's heart stutter, her senses on overdrive, ears sharp for anyone else's approach. Being caught breaking curfew would probably involve at least a spanking, if not a night in the cells, or some other, harsher torment! And with little light, the normally-familiar hallways seemed threatening - people could be hiding anywhere, the hunter ready to pounce. Her eyes strained, trying to penetrate through the gritty darkness, hoping no-one was lurking there. She managed to make it to the main hall without incident - the space was vast and cavernous, the other side further across than she could see, going up above her head, darkness swallowing everything else up. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her jacket off, feeling the night air coil against her body, shivering in anticipation. Even her submissives didn't get to see her fully naked except as a reward! 'I am going to cuff my hands, and then you will gag me. As I walk across the room, you will record me. Is this understood?' She pulled on the leash, getting an annoyed grunt from Bethany, before the woman nodded her head. 'Good girl. And then we can go back to the dorm, and you can have your reward. I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?' Bethany nodded as Samantha removed her gag, letting it drop to around Bethany's neck. The tightness of the rope was making her feel funny, with desire-heat flushing through her, making her body feel light and fluttery. She wanted to get herself off, but didn't trust herself to do that quietly here! The sooner this was done, then the sooner she could be back in the safety of her dorm, where Bethany could eat her out, and then have some time with a vibrator. Metal clicked, as she fastened cuffs behind her back, hating the restriction, the way the metal chafed and rubbed against her skin. She hated feeling weak and exposed like this - she was meant to be dominant and powerful, which was impossible with restrained hands! Her heart was starting to race, adrenaline pounding through her veins, adding an edge to the way the ropes rubbed against her body, her breathing getting faster and faster. 'Now, my gag. Like we agreed, Bethany.' Bethany rolled her eyes - that would be worth a spanking later! She wasn't even bratty, just moody. From the pocket of her uniform blazer, Bethany pulled out the small ballgag, before tossing it aside, and pulling out a roll of duct tape. 'Hey! Put that down!' Samantha had to keep her voice low, trying to stay quiet, twisting her shoulders against the cuffs. Sharp awareness of her vulnerability flooded through her, the metal bands biting into her wrists. 'Bad girl!' Bethany gave her a long look, a slow and hazy smile coming over her face, before reaching beneath her skirt and pulling her panties down, dark lace hard to see in the shadows, pulling them down her legs. 'Mistress Samantha wishes to experience being a submissive - this should be done as well as possible. Mistress Samantha always says that a thing worth doing is worth doing properly, does she not!' 'Put those down!' That applied to a submissive eating her out or serving food, not to herself being gagged! She backed away, but could only manage a step before she was up against one of the massive stone pillars, suddenly hemmed in. Her palms, suddenly sweaty, pressed against the stone, feeling the gritty, rough texture. 'Unless Mistress Samantha wishes me to shout, then she should open her mouth.' The panties were shoved against her face, and she could smell the woman's pussy-scent on them. She could feel them, rubbing against her face, before being forced between her lips, filling her mouth, the taste heavy on her tongue. The tape was ripped from the roll, sound loud enough to make her wince, before it was wrapped around her mouth, sealing her lips, going fully around her head several times. If she moved her face at all, now she could feel it prickle and pull on her skin, making her wince. 'And Mistress Samantha wishes me to record her?' 'Mphh.' Samantha nodded, unable to speak, her long hair rubbing against her bare back. A ballgag was bad enough, but this silenced her almost entirely - the way it bound her lips made even precise enunciation blur into mumbles, where the panties in her mouth wrapped around her tongue. But all she had to do now was cross the hall, and she was done! The nervousness she could feel was making her shake and twitch, but every movement was one that she could feel across her body, as the ropes chafed and stroked, pressing into her breasts, hips and into her pussy. She had to take several deep breaths, trying to settle herself, and ignore the taste of Bethany (that girl was going to get such a spanking when this was over!). And then she started, walking across the room, trying to look proud and confident, while also making as little noise as possible. Mercifully, Bethany did what she was meant to, walking ahead of and around her with Samantha's phone, recording her movement. There was the constant urge to hunch over and protect herself, which she had to resist, attempting to appear fully in control of herself. With the panties wadded into her mouth, absorbing her spit, and the tape-gag, she couldn't even attempt to make noise other than pathetic mumbles! Her walking got faster, but that made the ropes chafe and rub even more, forcing her to slow back down, or risk being overwhelmed. Away from the edges of the hall, it felt like she and Bethany were all alone, the place so vast she couldn't see the walls anymore - just silvery moonlight shining from above, just enough to let her see a little. Her arousal was getting more and more intense, her breathing just short, sharp pants, all her focus on the vague darkness ahead of herself, the distance seeming to stretch, far greater than it should have been. At least there wasn't the extra humiliation of anyone else watching her, but the danger and sense of exposure was wearing her nerves thin, every little noise making her jump, and tease herself even more. A sharp, sudden pain flared in her backside, a hand spanking across her skin, the sound echoing out, deafeningly loud. Samantha half-turned, to see Bethany behind her, hand grabbed against her own butt, a vicious smile on her face, phone in her other hand. 'Nph! Hphh!' The fingers squeezed her ass before letting go, Bethany bringing her arm back for another spank. Samantha darted forward, hearing the hand slice through the air, just barely missing her. When this was over, she'd turn the damn girl's ass cherry-red! But the cuffs wouldn't release for a while longer, rendering her powerless until then. She glared at Bethany, trying to cow the girl with a glance, stilling her movement for a second, before pressing onwards. How much further was it? And the spanks were far too loud, the sound filling the cavernous space. She walked faster, or at least tried to, having to keep slowing when the pressure between her legs got too much, bright throbbing pleasure swelling inside of her. Another spank, humiliation burning within herself - she was a dominant, not a submissive! She was the one that should be dishing out pain, not receiving it! And when she got Bethany back to the dorm, she was going to stripe the girl's buttocks black and blue. Her arms tensed up, the cuffs digging into her wrists, her backside hot and aching from the repeated spanks. If Bethany had left any marks that hadn't faded by the time they'd got back, that would require even more punishment! She stumbled, managing to catch herself, but the rope tightened around her again, her breasts and hips getting compressed, ropes pinching and squeezing. She must be most of the way across now, surely? Her body was burning up, lust-fever coursing through her, kept at bay mostly by her seething anger at Bethany. Ahead, finally, she could see the columns on the far side of the chamber, sighing in relief. Just a little further to go! She could feel the wetness of her own slit, and the sweat clinging to her body, all her focus on the column, as it got closer and closer. Even another spank didn't slow her down, although she made a mental note for how much punishment she would be extracting from Bethany - the girl clearly needed to learn her place! Even for a brat, spanking a dominant was over the line, and deserved punishment. Thoughts of vengeance helped keep her own desire at bay as she staggered forward, her hands tensing up behind her back, unable to ward off another spank. The cuffs should unlock soon as well, as they'd only been set for a few minutes. And then Bethany would get what she deserved! A light blasted into her eyes, a bright torch blasting away her night vision and dazzling her, before a woman's voice spoke. 'Well, this is unexpected. A naughty slut of a dominant and her sub out after curfew?' Samantha could hear footsteps approach, but was still blinded by the glaring light, blinking furiously as she turned away, ready to run. A hand grabbed the cuff-chain, yanking her arms upwards and pulling her backwards, before a hood was shoved over her head. The leather was rank, smelling of sweat, cum and hair gel, and blocking her vision completely. 'Naughty, naughty!' She could hear the sounds of fast footsteps - had Bethany fled? That would be even more punishment! Although, for now, all she could do was mew pathetically into the tape-gag, before fingers grabbed at her breast, digging in hard enough to make her gasp. 'And this harness... Far too loose!' The ropes suddenly tightened around her body, the crotch-rope biting into her pussy, and then she was pulled backwards. The woman was behind her, supporting her, Samantha trying to keep from being entirely disorientated as she was twisted around. 'Naughty girls get punished - and, lucky you, there's something you can help me with.' She was shoved up against a pillar, feeling cold stone squash her breasts, and then metal clicked around her wrists, above her own cuffs, an even shorter chain keeping her wrists close. 'And don't think I'll go easy on you because this is your first offence. But I'm sure we can work out some arrangement.' Samantha tried to push herself off the pillar, but the woman's grip was too strong, shoving her forward again, hard enough to wind her, before grabbing her by the scruff of her neck. 'This is a lot easier with people wearing a collar! And you have such a pretty neck, that would look much better with a nice steel band around it. But we can sort that out later. It's been a quiet night, so we can spend some quality time together.' Lips brushed against her back, the very top of her spine, before there was a sharp kiss, teeth nipping at her skin, adding another spike of humiliation and pain. 'If you're obedient, I might even have some mercy on you! Probably not too much though, as that wouldn't be any fun.' Another harsh bite-kiss, and then the harness was pulled on, used to make her move. If she resisted, then the ropes immediately tightened, pressing into her skin, the sensation boiling in her pussy getting stronger and stronger. Without being able to see, she had little choice but to stumble forward, the woman pulling hard, not letting her get her balance back.
Samantha heard a hook click onto her cuffs, a force pulling upwards, forcing her to bend into a strappado position. That motion made the rope chafe against her pussy, more desire washing through her, her thighs now starting to get damp with her juices. Footsteps, and then a hand on her head, plucking the hood away, Samantha's hair fluffing over her face, her neat ponytail torn apart by the rough treatment. 'Wasn't expecting to have someone like you to play with!' Samantha blinked away tears, from the pain of the light jabbing into her eyes, looking around as her eyes adjusted. One of the jails, for those found breaking the rules, and well-stocked with everything needed for the guards to have their "fun" with anyone they captured! She'd had to retrieve a few submissives from here before, but never been in one herself. One corner of the room was a jail cell, with two men in there, both of them cuffed and hooded, slumped against the walls. On another wall was a vacbed, the rubber stretched tight over the body of a captive woman, completely sealed away except for her eyes, visible through the small lenses in a gasmask. She was straining and fighting against the suction, but without any success, making the rubber shift, just a little, before getting pulled back to where she had started. 'Samantha Carrington, third year dominant, British, and very connected with everyone here, as far as I can tell. You seem to have a lot of friends!' The speaker was a short woman, dressed in the university uniform, her skirt coming partway down her knees, tight black exercise shorts beneath, a shock-wand holstered at her waist. A ring-shaped tan-line could be seen around her throat, where a collar had once sat. Samantha recognized her as another person in the game, freezing up in fear - if she was the hunter, then she was completely at her mercy, there was no way that she could escape the strappado! 'Guess this was your task or something? Well, whoever was filming for you ran away - impressive speed, and it seemed more entertaining to grab you than whatever sub you were using.' She reached forward, reaching for one of Samantha's breasts, giving it a light slap, Samantha grunting in pain and humiliation. 'I don't get to play with dominants very often! Especially not ones like you - you're a good girl, aren't you? Rich family, fancy upbringing, coming here for a few years for fun.' Another tit-slap, this one a little harder, Samantha grunting into the tape-gag again. 'I bet a rich bitch like you doesn't even know who I am.' 'Bphhh Cphhhh!' Samantha tried to repeat herself, mumbling into the gag again. The woman looked at her curiously, before reaching out and peeling off the tape, unwinding it from around Samantha's head. It hurt as it was pulled away from her skin, tearing at her skin, the adhesive rough and strong, especially on her lips. She managed to spit the panties out, the fabric splatting to the ground. 'Beatriz Carvalho! Second year, shifted from the submissive course to the dominant at the start of your second year. Twenty-two, Brazilian.' 'Have you been spying on me?' Another tit-slap, Samantha's grunt of pain louder now that she wasn't gagged. 'No! I help with administration for new admissions. You were trained by Luis before he graduated - a bit of a shame that you moved onto being a dominant, you were so cute the way he dressed you!' From the grimace on her face, that had been the wrong thing to say. From her bent-over position, Samantha could see some small training weights on a table, along with a pair of clamps joined by a chain. The next tit-slap was even harder, Samantha wincing as the impacts built up. 'Yeah, I got sick of that! Just because I'm small, doesn't mean I'm some doll, to be dressed up and stuff. Sure, I like it rough but that doesn't mean I want lace and ruffles and stuff all the time! It's kinda nice to be on the other end, and I got a position on the curfew squad. Good chance to get practice in, right?' She pulled Samantha's hair into one long ponytail, helping to clear her vision, but then pulling it back, Samantha feeling it get tied around the strappado-chain, forcing her neck to bend uncomfortably. 'So, you're some sort of big shot around here, right? Everyone seems to know you, and you know everyone.' 'I try to involve myself with university activities, yes.' 'And everyone in your dorm is all rich and fancy!' Beatriz picked up the clamps, clicking them threateningly, Samatha trying to twist away. The strappado and the hair-tie both limited her movements, her scalp prickling as her hair tightened, pressure building across her shoulders. 'Maybe I should see how those tits of yours deal with one of my weights hanging off them?' 'That doesn't seem necessary!' 'Oh? You were breaking curfew, you knew the risks. And you might be ending up on the submissive's course anyway, so getting used to it could be useful.' The metal grips of the clamps rubbed against the skin of her chest, Samantha powerless to wriggle away. She could feel it over her breast, before finding her nipple. Just in time, she managed to inhale, sucking in air as the clamp was released, crushing her nipple, pain surging in her chest. The chain was dropped, the other clamp dangling down and swinging. The pain built fast, Samantha struggling not to show the pain she was feeling. 'At least you don't need to worry about that immediately - I'm not the hunter. If I was, you'd be stamped and caged already!' Samantha had to focus to speak, trying to deal with the growing ache in her breast. 'I'm not the hunter either - or if I am, I don't have the stamp on me! If you help me, then, ow, I'm sure I can help you somehow. If there's anyone you want to be introduced to, then I'm sure I can help.' She could feel every little swing of the clamp-chain, and even the slightest movement of her body was transmitted through to it, so the swinging never stopped, her attention continually dragged away by the pain. 'Hmm, that's an idea. Guess you might be useful for something. And you're not going to take revenge?' 'I have enough tasks, hahhh... to do without... trying to break in another submissive...' 'Oh yeah, you're super-busy with everything. I've seen your regular sub - that huge guy you use as a chair all the time. Maybe some time with him?' 'If you wish, that can, oww, be arranged. Jonas is wonderfully compliant. If you could remove the clamp? And free me?' Beatriz leaned over, her face close to Samantha's, the pain decreasing slightly as she took the chain, the weight reducing. 'I've got my own task to do, and you can help with that.' Samantha tried to squirm away, but was powerless to stop the other clamp biting onto her nipple, the chain now swinging between them. The pain was seeping into her, fogging her thoughts, as she fought to push down the feeling and maintain some sense of control. 'I need to play with another dominant! Well, do some things to one. You ever done anal before? You've always been a dominant, so I guess that would only happen if you want it to. So you ever done that? Had your pretty little asshole fucked?' 'I've... tried it. Didn't get off...' 'Same here! But there were quite a lot of attempts. But you have to say that you want it - that's the part I guess that was meant to be hard. But you're going to be nice and obedient, aren't you? Damn, you're really not used to pain, are you?' Beatriz moved around behind Samantha, making her twist around, grimacing at the pain, and unable to see anywhere. 'Time for the cavity search! You might be the hunter and hiding the stamp somewhere.' Samantha felt the crotch-rope loosen, getting pulled out of her pussy, making her gasp again as the knots rubbed against her inner walls. Two fingers slid into her, her body tightening around them, the feelings giving some relief from the pain, coupled with a sense of indignity from being finger-fucked. She was more used to being eaten out by her submissives, or having sex when she chose to, rather than getting tied up and having someone else do stuff to her. At least Beatriz was quick, fingering her before withdrawing, then using both hands to spread Samantha's lips wide. Burning heat was rushing to her face, a deep blush of shame, from being used like this! When she heard the phut of a pump, she winced, trying to prepare herself for what was about to happen. Three fingers, pushed tightly together, pressed against the tight knot of her asshole, and she tried to make herself relax, feeling as they were pushed into her. They felt bigger and harder than the cocks and dildos she'd experimented with before. The knuckles were little hard extra lumps, making her gasp and shudder with each one, until she could feel the full length of them inside her body, and Beatriz's hand against her butt. When they moved, she gasped, her thoughts fading away under the sheer intensity of it all, her internal walls getting pushed apart. Her breasts felt stretched as well, the clamps dragging at them, thick fuzz filling her head. She was intensely aware of every little movement they made, her eyes starting to roll back in her head. 'Hmmm, nothing in here either.' The fingers slid out of her, making her gasp again, and she could feel her asshole ache, only slowly closing up. 'Guess you're not the hunter. Or you're really bad at it! So, my task is to get another dominant to agree to be ass-fucked, as well as ask for demeaning body-writing. So that's going to be you. If you're a good girl, I'll even let you go back to your dorm tonight. Sound like a deal?' A hand spanked Samatha's buttocks, with enough force to make her move forwards, the nipple-clamps swinging around and pulling on her breasts. 'And maybe you can make some introductions for me, and no-one else needs to know about tonight? Who knows, you might even enjoy it.' Another spank, Samantha groaning in pain, as Beatriz walked back around in front of her, taking out a phone and propping it on the table, a light blinking on as a recording started. 'Say it then. Or do you want more "persuading"?' 'I... I agree to be sodomized. And that Beatriz may... write on me.' She'd need to try and scrub it all off once she was out of here, but having to wait until tomorrow for release, and dealing with whatever other curfew-guards stopped by, would take longer, and involve even more pain and degradation. The blush on her face was deepening, making her feel like she was burning up, merging with the aching of her breasts, her ass still throbbing from the fingers that had been forced in there. The two subs in the cage were both looking in her direction despite the hoods, their erections visible, sending another twinge of shame through Samantha - she shouldn't be the one restrained and getting fucked! The sight of the strap-on that Beatriz was tying around her waist made her wince - it looked far too large to fit into her! But there was no backing out now, so all she could do was hope that Beatriz would be merciful. It was impossible not to stare at the thing, the shaft gleaming, as Beatriz adjusted it around her waist, the length bobbing up and down. She grimaced, still feeling the aching of her asshole, feeling nervous anticipation as Beatriz moved around behind her. Her reflexive attempt to twist around just yanked on her hair and scalp, making her yelp in pain, and then again when a hand slapped her ass. 'Keep going. Be a good girl, and I'll even lube you up.' The thought of the thing getting shoved into her without lube made Samantha shudder. 'Please use it, and fuck me from behind. That's... what I want...' It was a relief to hear the lube-pump squirt, slippery fingers rubbing over her asshole, the gel cooling off her body a little. The tip was placed against her asshole, and she sucked in air, feeling her body get spread wide, hating the delirious moaning sound she made. Why did this feel so different than the last time she'd been ass-fucked? That had just been vaguely uncomfortable, but this was making her heart race, blood tingling through her body, her breathing coming in deep, desperate pants, as her hole was forced to stretch wide, feeling like it would break. The length started to slide into, Beatriz taking a firm hold of Samantha's hips, strong and powerful, fingers digging into skin. Samantha tried to pull herself forward, but lacked the range of motion, as well as the strength to move away, her shoulders aching from being bent upwards in the strappado. As the strap-on entered her, it got bigger and fatter, forcing her even wider. She felt dribble splash form her mouth as she gasped, ashamed at her lack of control, feeling another fat lump get pushed into her body. This was entirely different from being pussy-fucked, but was somehow making her feel good? Despite the shame, pain and discomfort, she could feel the pleasure swelling within her, starting to pulse in time with Beatriz's thrusts. When the cock withdrew, her body tried to tense up, but a sudden shove inwards forced her to submit to it, another fat lump entering her, the fog in her head almost too thick to let her think at all. Her hands twitched and juddered, the chain clicking as she moved, her back and neck bent into painful arches. The pain in her scalp, from having her hair tied and pulled, was barely noticeable, compared to the sensation of her asshole getting stretched wider and wider! 'Damn, you're tight!' A hand spanked her ass, making her butt tense up, around the penetrating cock-shaft, so that it felt even bigger and fatter, impossible to resist or squeeze out. 'Making me work for it, aren't you?' 'Mrhhhh...' More dribble splashed from Samantha's gaping mouth, her legs limp, her body supported by the strappado chains. 'Don't worry, this can be our little secret. As long as you hold up your end of the deal!' All she could do was moan and groan, unable to find the strength to form actual words. Each spank was making her butt heat up, her skin starting to bruise, but that wasn't as bad as the way the cock was making her feel. It seemed to fill her entire ass, forcing her insides to submit to it, as Beatriz slammed her hips back and forth in a brutally irregular rhythm that was impossible to adjust to. All she could do was endure it, and try to keep her head up to avoid tearing any of her hair out, as the breast-clamps swung around, torturing her tits as she jerked back and forth. The pressure inside of her kept growing, and she could feel warmth and dampness between her thighs. As Beatriz's hips pressed against her backside, the full length of the cock now buried within her body, her moans got louder and louder. Both the male subs were turned towards her, the hoods making it even creepier, their cocks fully erect, and she couldn't stop imagining one of them grabbing her head and face-fucking her, forcing a cock into her throat. Pleasure rippled, then exploded through her, Samantha's back tensing up enough that it hurt, her feet kicking against the floor, her thoughts broken and scattered. She barely even noticed being spanked several times, as she sagged back down, trying to gather herself. 'Wow, are you an anal slut? I certainly never managed to cum from taking it up the ass.' 'Hahhh... I...' 'I think I'll leave this in place, as you seemed to enjoy it!' Samantha heard buckles release, feeling the cock drag slightly downwards, but still shoved so deep into her that she couldn't force it out, even if she could summon up the strength to try. 'So, what should be written on you? You need to tell me!' 'Nhhh... Ow!' The next spank was even harder, and made her tense up around the dildo, forcing her to be aware of how penetrated she was, her innards distorted and stretched around it. 'Tell me what you want writing!' 'Slut! Bitch! Anal whore!' Random abuse filled her head, the sort of thing she liked to whisper into the ears of a bound and gagged submissive, while teasing them, or when riding their face, making them beg into her pussy until she got off. Her breasts were aching now, the constant, biting pain of the clamps seeping into her body, nipples aching with every pulse of her heart. It was hard to see, her thoughts foggy and vague, but she could feel soft wetness over her body, Beatriz scribbling on her with a marker pen. 'I think you enjoyed that, didn't you? Guess you posh bitches like it rough. And that should make a nice recording as well - so once you've recovered, then I'll even walk you back to your dorm.' Samantha's head sagged down, her strength fading, even the prickling pain along her scalp not enough to draw her back up. She was looking forward to getting back and sleeping in her own bed! At least, once she'd recovered enough that her legs worked again, and the cock removed from her stretched-out and abused asshole. Valeria tucked her skirt neatly beneath herself before sitting down, making sure she was sat firmly on her seat - a nice, burly submissive, down on all fours. She flicked her fencing foil, the metal slightly flexible, enjoying the weight of the metal length in her hand. With a sudden twist of her wrist, she flicked it forward, the length slicing through the air before impacting against bare buttocks. She could hear Cynthia grunt in pain, a long, red welt appearing across well-shaped buttocks. Another flick of her wrist, a hiss of pain, another welt. 'Your performance has been rather unimpressive recently. I tasked you with finding out everything you can about this competition - and so far, you have been unable to tell me anything.' Cynthia's skirt wavered, her grip weakening on it, earning another sharp slap. 'I'm sorry, Mistress Valeria! None of the older students are willing to talk about it, and Ms. Aith's personal students are too loyal.' 'Excuses! I expect results. And soon - I won't get pushed into the submissive's course! And you, lick my boots.' She pointed the foil at Megan, another of her dorm-mates, the woman dropping to her knees and crawling forward, pushing her face against Valeria's thigh-high white leather boots. As she started to lick off the faint traces of mud and dirt, Valeria felt herself calm down a little, as she was able to assert her authority. 'For a pair of dominants, you're both rather pathetic.' Vicious red welts were forming on the buttocks, Valeria smiling at the sight of them. 'There must be someone the two of you can lean on! Let them do whatever they want to you - but I need to know who the hunter is. And what other tasks are going to happen, and if that can be "manipulated".' A few of the other dominants deserved to be taken down a peg or two! It'd be nice to have them crawling at her feet, mewling through gags. But she only had these two - her dorm-mates, both training to be dominants, but lacking in spirit. Which at least made them fun to play with! 'The two of you are going to help me complete my task then, as that needs doing. You will both be standing watch - you should be capable of that much, at least.' She drew the foil back, enjoying the shudder that ran through her target's body. 'Gunther will not be needed, so he can be caged for the night.' She patted his head, through the thick leather hood, feeling a slight rumble through his body. His ears were blocked as well - a submissive didn't need to listen to his betters! And of course he was in a cock-cage, the key on a chain around her neck, nestled between her breasts, somewhere that he would never be allowed to go! 'Yes, Mistress.' As Valeria stood up, Megan stepped forward, leashing Gunther and leading him away to his cage. 'Get yourself ready! A dominant shouldn't look so miserable.' Cynthia lowered her skirt, hiding her lashed backside, although was unable to fully stifle a gasp as the material touched against her wounded skin. Valeria smiled to herself, enjoying the sound, as well as the knowledge of the control she had over the other dominant - it was really her own fault, for being so weak and pathetic! What sort of dominatrix would let someone else whip their buttocks? Her own skin was pale and flawless, unblemished by any strikes - such things were for submissives, not someone like her! 'The halls should be quiet at this time of night, and I've bribed the monitors to look the other way. That means the route will be clear.' Cynthia wouldn't meet Valeria's eyes, pathetically weak and timid, sending a faint surge of lust and power through Valeria. It was hard to resist the urge to make the woman eat her out, here and now, but there were other things to be done first! 'Wipe your eyes. And behave better in the future - you should know better by now!' The woman obeyed, fixing her smudged makeup a little, tweaking and adjusting her uniform until she was at least mostly presentable. Not that there would be many people in the halls, but a dominant should aim to look the part at all times! Valeria ran a hand through her own hair, enjoying the feeling of the silk, silvery-blonde strands, before pulling her gloves on, covering herself up fully. Not that she was a prude, but bare skin was something that the sight of needed to be earned, rather than just given away, like some slut! 'Now that Gunther is caged, then we should depart.' 'Yes, Mistress Valeria.' Both of the others dipped their heads, managing at least some level of respect - some of the training was, finally, taking! It had taken her several weeks to impress upon them that she was in charge of the dorm, and that just because they were dominants, didn't mean that she wasn't in charge of them. She hadn't been able to coerce them into chastity belts just yet, but soon there would be another pair of keys around her neck, to show the extent of her controls. They moved out of the dorm, into the darkness of the post-curfew hallways and passages. Valeria knew that her outfit, of white leather boots and gloves, would stand out in the night, but sneaking around like a thief was a sign of weakness! Although she did at least try to walk more quietly, unable to suppress a sting of nervousness whenever her boot-heels tapped too hard against the stone floor, noises echoing around. Their route took them past one of the "jails", where curfew-breakers were stored until the morning. Light spilled around the doorway, and she could hear groans and meaty fuck-slaps coming from within - was that another competitor, maybe? Well, if they were getting punished already, they couldn't be doing very well. Her destination was elsewhere - she skirted along the edge of the main hall, not daring to cross the great expense, having to feel along the wall until she felt a handrail, the night so dark she couldn't see. Old, pitted steps lead downwards, the pale light of a bulb at least giving her some direction, the scents of lube, cum and sweat making her wrinkle her nose. There was an attempt to cover them up, cloying incense and cleaning fluid, but that just combined and made it even worse! But there was limited airflow down here, making it impossible to fully dispel the smell. She shivered - the gloryholes were not somewhere a dominant like her should be! This was a place for sluts that just wanted to get fucked, or maybe if a submissive was very good and deserved a treat. But she needed to spend an hour in one for her task - although nothing said she needed to actually endure being used during that hour! The first one was actually occupied - an anonymous backside, stockings mostly torn away, skirt lifted up, with cum oozing from both holes, limp hands stuck through padded holes. A photograph had been pinned above it, showing a happy, smiling woman, posing for the camera - although obscenities had been scrawled onto it, matching the abuse scribbled onto the buttocks and legs of whoever-it-was there. Discarded condoms were on the top of her back and laying on the floor, leaking more semen onto the place, the sight making Valeria wince. Just because some people were complete sluts that liked being used in such ways, didn't mean that she wanted to see it! She walked all the way down to the final booth, where the partition between the halves of the gloryhole had been lowered, turning around and pulling an "out of order" barrier across the doorway. Low, dim lights in the ceiling made everything dark and hazy, her eyes aching as they tried to focus. 'The two of you will keep watch. If anyone attempts to enter, then you will do anything necessary to prevent them - I don't care what you need to do, just make sure that no-one interferes with me. Is that understood? Or your previous punishments will seem mild!' Cynthia and Megan both gulped nervously, before nodding their heads. 'Good.' Now it was time to set herself up - there was a padded surface for her to rest on, bent at the waist, with her legs and hips on the other side. It was easy to pull up the bottom half, before propping her phone up on the other side, angling it upwards. She twisted around, resting her hands in the padded half-curves, before hearing the top part rattle down - it pushed against the top of her back and her wrists, thick rubber sealing her wrists and hips in, so she couldn't wriggle out. The partition was thick enough that she couldn't hear the other women now - her backside was exposed, easy meat for anyone that would be walking by, if they wanted to use either of her holes. But there wouldn't be anyone, so she was perfectly safe! The position wasn't even that uncomfortable, although having all her weight on her belly was making it a little hard to breathe. And she was getting bored - with her hands restrained, she couldn't even look at her phone, other than to watch the timer slowly ticking upwards. An hour was starting to seem like an eternity! Opposite her was a doorway - that must be how people were meant to come and go, rather than through the front. Well, this was her first, and only, time down here, so how was she meant to know how such things worked? A hand touched against her butt, through her skirt, and she kicked back with her leg, feeling her boot-heel connect with something. One of her stupid bitch-sluts, no doubt! She'd have to punish them later, for having such temerity as to touch her without permission. The bulb flickered, making her eyes ache more, as she tried to make herself comfortable. She could just about touch her own butt with her hands, and twist them around a bit, but that was it, nothing more. The light flickered again, the tiny room darker now, the constant blinking starting to annoy Valeria. Was that for atmosphere, or was the maintenance just bad? Hands brushed against her backside, lifting her skirt up, making her shiver and twitch. What were those bitches doing? She could feel air against her slit, as her panties were tweaked aside, and then a tongue licked against her, giving her a slow, deep kiss down there. Valeria squirmed, trying to twist her hands around, just waving them through empty air. The pussy-kiss felt good, but whichever of the bitches was doing this to her should have asked first! It was easy to lay there and be pleasured though, the tongue and lips doing their work, stirring up her pleasure, until her gasps echoed around the tiny room, her fingers spasming on the other side of the partition. Whichever one of them it was, they were really going for it, their tongue pushing deep, twisting around her clit, building up her tension! They'd never been so enthusiastic before, the cunt-sucking helping Valeria to ignore the blinking and fading of the light. It wasn't long before she was roused to a climax, the pleasure sweeping through her, making her arch against the rubber padding and then sag back down. There was another long, slow pussy-kiss, her juices being licked clean, and then fingers slid beneath her panties. A sudden yank, and she felt them get torn away. 'Hey!' Not that she could be heard, but she tried to kick back again, feet finding only empty air. Those bitches would be in for a savage punishment after this! Another bulb-blink, the room in half-shadow now, and the door opened. Darkness seeped through, Valeria having to blink several times before realizing it was someone in a long and billowing cloak, shrouding their form. Their face was half-covered by a black mask, leaving just their crimson lips showing, as uncertainty and fear started to crawl through Valeria. Who was this? They advanced, cloak billowing, sending out a thick haze of perfume, a hand grabbing Valeria around the mouth, silencing her yelp of protest. The hand gripped her jaw, the taste and smell of latex overwhelming everything else, coiling into her. She tried to wriggle free, but lacked the power, her body still locked into the gloryhole. From within the cloak, the figure produced a small, dark object, tapping it against each of Valeria's cheeks, and her forehead. A chill ran through her as she realized she'd been stamped - this was the hunter! She struggled again, twisting her hips around, but the thing was too tight, impossible to wriggle out of. The hunter placed a finger against her own lips, smiling, still keeping Valeria silenced with a gloved hand, before putting the seal away and taking out a narrow, glistening bag, the tip filled with white fluid. This was twisted around, Valeria realizing that it was a condom - and a used one! It was squeezed out onto her forehead, the cum sticking to her skin, slowly starting to trickle down. It was still warm! Her struggles intensified - fucking a man for her own pleasure was one thing, but having cum poured onto her was something else entirely! But there was nothing she could do to prevent this, as several more condoms were emptied onto her face. When the hunter withdrew her hand, Valeria immediately gulped in air, ready to abuse the hunter, to threaten them, despite not knowing who they were. A slap to her cheek stung though, making her gasp in pain. She'd never been hit like that before! And was still weak from the aftermath of the orgasm, body slow and heavy-feeling. From the depths of the cloak, the woman produced a gasmask, made of white rubber, Valeria able to see that the inside was already covered with more cum, the scent making her gag. She shook her head, trying to keep the thing away from herself, but it was pushed forward, getting moved over her face, limiting her airflow. Every time she inhaled, she could taste and smell the cum, thick and cloying in the back of her throat! And her vision through the lenses was now limited, her peripheral vision gone. The straps went around her head, buckles getting tightened, her hair snagging a little. Her chest was hurting from the extra effort it took to breathe, feeling an intense heat against the sides of her head. When the hunter stepped back, Valeria could see that she was holding a glue gun - were the mask buckles now glued shut? You're going to be helping me. The hunter held up a piece of paper, neat handwriting on it. The rules don't say I have to tell
anyone you're marked - so help me out, and you might even make it through. The cum-scent was making Valeria feel as though she were drunk, her senses addled and slowed, everything moving with nightmare slowness, still trapped in the aftermath of the orgasm. I'll be sending more orders. Be thankful I didn't bring a few bulls down
with me, to have fun with you! A hand slid over Valeria's body, squeezing one of her breasts through her clothing. She tried to wriggle to throw it off, but lacked the range of movement needed. Valeria tried to look at the woman, to get some sense at least of her size, who she might be - but the cloak swathed her form entirely, making it hard to see more than the occasional sheen beneath, of leather or latex. And from this position, she looked tall and dominant, but Valeria was bent at the waist, making it hard to judge! And the lenses of the breathing mask added a strange gloss to everything, not quite properly clean. I am the hunter, and you are my bitch -
and a good bitch obeys! She was scribbling each note onto a small notebook before holding it up for Valeria to read. You'd be a cute submissive, in a nice
collar, but you're more useful to me like this.
Understand? Valeria could just about nod her head, still straining against the gloryhole wall, without any success in making it move. Do not make any attempt to remove the
mask. Enjoy the cum - it's nice and
fresh. Hot-cold shame pulsed through Valeria, the semen on her face kept moist and warm by her own body-heat, seeping into her skin. Enjoy the rest of your time here! The hunter leaned in, kissing one of the lenses and leaving a red lipstick-smear, blocking more of Valeria's vision, before turning and leaving with a room-filling billow of her cloak, the door closing behind her. Valeria was powerless to do anything, except inhale the cum-tainted air, feeling it flow into her lungs, the scent and taste making her feel nauseous. Were the bitches even still around to help her out? There was nothing she could feel when she moved her legs! All she could do was wait, able to see her phone recording, the seconds ticking away, hoping to be released before anyone else found her. 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. Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter 5: Uncertain Roles 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? It was dark around her, pushing in on her, the air thick and hot with her own breath. Eliza was inside a metal box or crate, just about large enough to hold her. She couldn't feel the jolting sensation of being carried, she couldn't hear anything... Where was she? And what was she wearing? She patted herself down - it felt like a uniform, crisp and fresh, but there was a metal belt around her waist and between her legs, something pushed inside of her, although at least it was currently passive. Her nipples were still sore from the clamps Sophia had applied, but the pain had died down, scratches almost healed already. She couldn't have been out for that long then, probably not even a few hours. Something felt different, and it took her several minutes to place it, as her fingers moved up around her neck - the collar, the omnipresent leather strap that showed her position and rank, had changed. There was still something tight around her neck, but it was now a heavier thing of plastic and metal, a chunky powerpack on the back of her neck. She whimpered, the sound making a soft echo around the cramped space. Someone wanted to control her - who, and why? And where was she? The device between her legs buzzed for a moment, pleasure forced upon her, before going still. Who was doing this? Was it the nurses? A vision of their blank, faceless heads, staring at her, latex-wrapped hands reaching for her, ready to torment her further, made her whimper again. Would they drag her into an examination room, strap her legs into stirrups and spread her wide? Or use her as a test subject, restrain her and electrocute her sensitive parts, strap a mask over her face and limit her oxygen supply until she was gasping and panting? She bit her lip, or tried to, finding her mouth locked open. She explored the intruder with her tongue - it was a double set of metal rings, one behind her teeth and one in front, forcing her mouth open, and was too tight to push out. It was buckled around her head, the straps locked on with metal clasps she couldn't remove. Was she going to be abused by men, her soft mouth used as a fuck-hole, unable to refuse? She couldn't talk, even to curse or plead, unable to make more than rough approximations of words and soggy mumbles. She went silent, trying to force herself to relax. She couldn't hear any sounds of movement, maybe she had been forgotten? A shock nipped at her neck, the collar giving her a mild shock, making her yelp. Although it was mild, staying in here would only invite further punishment. She pushed against the top of her container, finding it unlocked, the lid opening, allowing her out and for fresh air to rush in - it tasted sweet and cool, not hot and clammy with her own breath and sweat. She pushed herself to her feet and stepped out of the crate, looking around. It was one of the student rooms, but one of the smallest, most cramped ones, little more than a cell in its own right. No windows, the only light coming from a bare lightbulb suspended from the ceiling. There was a single bed, metal frame bolted to the floor, with cuffs and chains at each corner, so the occupant could be restrained. And another crate, about the same size, but of plastic rather than metal. Eliza checked the door - locked, with no key. Although there was a key in the chest she had climbed out of. So someone had chosen to let her free? A sound came from the other chest, something moving inside it. Eliza moved to open it, revealing Sophia inside, curled up to fit into the cramped space. She was dressed in a fresh school uniform as well, a chastity belt shining between her legs, a chunky collar around her neck, four lights shining. Her mouth was also forced open with a ring-gag, her eyes wincing from the light. A spark snapped from her collar and she grunted in pain before seeing Eliza. Eliza took a step forward and extended a hand towards her, helping her stand. She could feel Sophia's nerves, her hand shaking as they touched. The vibe buried inside of her started, moving to twist and buzz. What was going on? Eliza moved to check the room for cameras, any way that people might be observing them. She couldn't see any, but they could be hidden, or watching through concealed holes, and the vibrator was distracting enough to make a full check hard. Sophia bumped into her from behind and gave her a tight hug. Eliza's collar sparked, spiking her neck with pain, vibrator still lively. Eliza pawed at her chastity belt - it was locked tightly on, enough that she couldn't get a finger in, no chance of getting the belt off, or removing the intruder from her body. It was comforting having Sophia so close, the girl's scent soothing, despite, or perhaps because of, all the torments they had been through so far. Memories of the dungeon, of Sophia's face as she had pulled the plastic bag over Eliza's head, forcing her to gasp and pant for breath, the clamps tight on her nipples, brought a twinge of suspicion into Eliza's mind. Was the girl part of her punishment, the toy of a dominant? Or were her feelings genuine? 'ar oo oay?' Eliza tried to talk through the gag, her tongue flapping against the metal ring. Sophia clung on, body soft and warm against Eliza . 'Noooo! Whup iss gophing on?' The vibrator settled into a steady rhythm, pleasure rippling through Eliza. It was soothing and pleasant, almost like regular sex, with a trusted partner, not forced or painful, or with any violation or harm. 'I on't oo.' Sophia's tongue, waggling in her mouth, was strangely cute, pink and vulnerable, and Eliza leaned in to give her a kiss, pushing her own tongue into the vulnerable, open mouth of the other girl. It was a strange, intrusive gesture, Sophia unable to resist, their tongues sliding over each other, before a savage barb of electricity speared them both, tongues tensing against each other. For a moment, Eliza was strangely thankful for the gag, otherwise she might have bitten Sophia's tongue. They pull apart, Sophia sitting on the bed as Eliza checked the door again, finding it still locked. The vibes died away, leaving her unfulfilled, but this was better than being hurt. Other than the collars, and the belts sealing their pussies, there didn't seem to be anything else that could hurt her for the moment, other than Sophia. Maybe, for now, she was... safe? She approached Sophia, taking a seat on the floor, resting next to the girl, leaning on her legs. She was so warm and sweet, gentle and soft! Why can't more people be like this, instead of harsh and cruel? The vibe started again, a steady throbbing, and she could feel the pressure rising again inside of her. Sophia reached out, slowly and gently, patting her hand against Eliza's head, before Eliza grasped the hand and held it close against her own cheek, glad of the human contact, the simple pleasure of a touch without pain or degradation. 'Elipha...' From here, Eliza could see that Sophia's crotch was buzzing as well, the scent of her own desire pungent. Eliza started rocking her hips, trying to grind against the belt, wanting to finish herself off, blocked by metal. Sophia tilted down, bringing her face close to Eliza's. With her mouth forced open, dribble spilt out and fell onto Eliza's clean blouse, staining the white fabric, making it cling to Eliza's flesh, turning translucent. The vibe cut off, a savage barb of electricity biting her neck. They both whined in disappointment as Sophia squeezed her legs together, clearly wanting her own vibrator to start again. Eliza kissed Sophia's leg, or at least nuzzled against it, brushing her tongue against the girl's skin, savoring the taste. Sophia grabbed at Eliza's breast, a harsh, grabbing caress, and Eliza felt her collar shift. It tightened around her neck, making it harder to breathe. She stood and staggered away from Sophia, leaning on a wall and panting, fighting for air. Sophia rose and followed her, eyes bright, chest shifting as she panted, clearly still wanting release. 'Eliho, lehh me touhh ou!' Eliza fell to her knees, still struggling to breathe as Sophia reeled from another shock from her own collar. Stood above Eliza, she appeared powerful and dominant, despite the gag, collar and belt locked onto her body. Eliza felt the familiar urge to obey, to please, to bow and beg and scrape to avoid harm, rise up in her. But Sophia wasn't like that, was she? 'We an akke ouelves um by uching ech othur.' She stepped forward again, her hand brushing against Eliza's head, in time with another spike of electricity. As she spread her legs, her hand pulled Eliza's head towards her crotch, with her tongue rubbing uselessly against the chastity belt. She could taste it, the edge of Sophia's desire, juices starting to seep through the belt, the smell making Eliza woozy. Sophia pulled her away from the wall, then pushed her over and straddled her, pinning her to the ground. She started grinding her crotch against Eliza, the metal scraping against skin, as her fingers plucked at the buttons of Eliza's blouse, her body now twitching from constant electrical shocks. Eliza tried to hug her, barely able to summon up any strength, lightly running her hands along Sophia's body. The belts knocked together as they scissored, still unable to achieve orgasm, with the belts locked on and the vibes currently inactive. They kissed again, tongues slipping together, Eliza tasting Sophia, hot and wet, their spit mingling together. Eliza's vision wavered, her breath cutting short, collar tightening again and more spikes of electricity tormenting her. Sophia grabbed her tightly, nails pricking at Eliza's flesh, somehow even that pain feeling good. The last light on Sophia's collar blinked out. 'Ophia...' There was an audible click as Sophia's collar tightened as well, leaving her gasping for breath. The sensations were too much and Eliza tried to crawl away, pinned between Sophia's legs. Sophia grabbed hold, pulling herself tightly against Eliza in pain and fear, spit flowing freely, further staining their uniforms. Eliza managed to crawl away, retreating into the furthest corner. The collar loosened, just enough to let her gasp in several breaths, the lightning sparks diminishing at the same time. She looked at Sophia - several of her own blouse buttons had come undone, her top falling open to reveal her pale, tender flesh beneath, stained with drool. Eliza gasped in breath until the sparks in her eyes diminished, looking at the crates again. The one she had been in was clearly thicker, and made of metal rather than plastic - would the walls act as a faraday cage? There was little choice but to find out, as Eliza took a deep breath then stepped across the room and hugged Sophia tightly. The collar immediately tightened and shocked her with a zap, the pain forcing the scant air from her lungs. With her arms around Sophia, she twisted her off balance, bundling her into the chest, Sophia's eyes going wide as she realized what was happening. 'Nuhu!' Sophia slapped Eliza across the face, the band of the gag doing little to absorb the strike. 'Nuuuuh! Immm noph oinn itt!' 'Immm ooorry...' Eliza forced herself to ignore the pain of the slap, the impact somehow crueler and more painful than the barbs of lightning from the collar, or even the burning of her lungs from the lack of air. She pushed down, forcing Sophia down into the crate, then slammed the lid down and sat on it. She could feel the lid shaking beneath her, as Sophia pushed back, but she wasn't strong enough to push Eliza off. She twisted the key in the lock, the crate now held shut. Sophia continued to strike against the metal as Eliza stroked the crate, feeling betrayed, wanting more time with Sophia, but without having to endure choking and electrocution. 'Oorrry, Ophia...' The vibrator inside of her suddenly sparked into life, at full power, making her sag onto the crate for support, pushed into an orgasm, a wave of pleasure overwhelming her, leaving her gasping and reeling, needing long minutes to recover herself, even after the vibrations stopped. When her vision had returned, she stood, trying to ignore the soft sobs coming from inside the crate, able to properly breathe again. She looked at it more carefully, fingering the key. There was a small slot for air, with a panel that could be slid over it, restricting the airflow to a minimum and probably rendering the occupant mostly unconscious. It was on wheels, currently locked into position, but meaning it could be easily moved. Would someone be coming to take Sophia away, or is she Eliza's now? Her hand tensed possessively on the crate, a droplet of spit flowing onto it, as Eliza wiped it away with a sleeve, not wanting the metal tarnished. |