“Good morning, Stephanie. I hope you had a pleasant night?”

The young woman looked up groggily. She had spent a perfectly awful night, locked in a cage, hoisted up to the ceiling, uncomfortably trussed up in an armbinder, her mouth gagged and stuffed. Now, her captor stood over her with a supercilious grin on his face. He was fully dressed while she, though freed from her bondage, sat on the cold concrete floor, naked.

She tried to massage the life back into her arms and jaw, while wondering at what he had just said. Oh my God, she thought, how does he know my name?! They hadn’t bothered with introductions the previous night, and she still had no idea who he was or, indeed, where he had brought her and imprisoned her.

Then she remembered. He must have been through my bag, she surmised, which meant that he knows not only my name but my workplace from my ID badge. And, she realised, he will have got my home address from my driving licence! This is horrible! I’ve got to get away from here as soon as I can.

“So, you’ve had your fun,” she said, mustering as much firmness in her voice as possible, “I’d like to go home now.”

“I’m sure you would,” he smirked, “but I thought we might carry on where we left off last night. You danced so delightfully at the end of my flogger.” Stephanie saw the evil glint in his eye, and remembered the terrible treatment she had suffered at his hand.

“I know I said you could do anything,” she countered, “that was my mistake. But what you did to me last night, that was just horrible and abusive! Now, let’s just put it down to bad judgement and move on. If you take me home, I won’t call the police and press charges.”

“You still don’t get it, do you, cunt?” he barked, “what you want and what you like don’t matter a fuck! If you give me any more of your lip, I’ll flay the skin off your back!”

Her thin veneer of self-confidence wavered and shattered as the horror of the hours of pain and torment came back to her, and she quavered under his threats.

“Please,” she whimpered, “I can’t take that again! I’m begging you!” The older man looked at her appraisingly, as if deciding her fate but, in fact, just enjoying her desperation.

“I’ll tell you what, Stephanie,” he said eventually, “I’m feeling magnanimous this morning. I’ll take you home, sure, but first you need to satisfy me.  I’ll give you a choice. You can either spend the weekend as my sex slave. Or you can spend the next three hours as my pain slut. Long, slow submission or short, sharp shock? It’s up to you.”

Stephanie looked at him uncertainly. Is this a genuine offer, she wondered, or is he just fucking with me? She hesitated and thought for a moment. But only a moment. I don’t want to spend the next two days with this monster, she thought, acting as his slave. But I know I can’t take any more beating with that flogger, or the cane or crop, or whatever else the sick bastard has in his box of evil tricks!

“Okay,” she murmured, her head bowed in shame, “I’ll be your fucking slave, if that’s what it takes to get free of you.”

“Well, you’d better get your attitude sorted pretty damn quickly, cunt,” he barked, “I don’t take language like that from any slave of mine. You’ll be polite, you’ll call me Master, and you’ll obey every command I give you without hesitation or exception, or I’ll introduce you to my bullwhip! Understand, slave?!” To reinforce his point, he picked up the plaited leather whip from the table beside him and cracked it in front of her.

“Y-Yes… Master!” Stephanie squealed in a high-pitched tone, eyes glued on the vicious snake-like weapon writhing on the floor. She had no doubt that it would hurt immeasurably more than the devices which she had already experienced, just as she had no doubt that, given any excuse, he would use it on her. Her greatest fear was that he would lash her with it anyway, whatever she did. Her only hope of avoiding it was to go along with this ‘slave’ charade.

“Good,” he smiled, “Glad that you can see sense. But I think a little test of your resolve is in order. Bend over the cage and present your ass! Don’t worry, I’m not going to whip it.” Her immediate fear assuaged, but replaced by concern about what he did intend to do, Stephanie draped herself across the metal mesh. She was rather surprised when he put down the coiled leather on the cage beside her and held out a bottle of body lotion.

“Rub it in and around your ass.” Oh Christ, she thought, he’s going to fuck me in the arse! I’ve never been fucked there before! Ugh, the thought of it, so disgusting! So degrading! So shameful! But… I have no choice! It’s either this or the whip!

Reluctantly, she squirted the clear, slimy liquid onto her hand and slowly reached back until it was between her buttocks, and rubbed it all around her anus.

“Get it right up there, slut!” Stephanie squirted more lotion onto her index finger before pushing it, gently and just barely, into her tight little sphincter.

“Okay, hold on to the cage, I’m coming in!” The man unzipped his trousers and pulled out his erection, which was burgeoning once again. He took a sadistic pleasure from hurting a woman, and it aroused him greatly, but he also took great delight in the Domination of a submissive, particularly when he knew that she wasn’t a natural submissive. I know she hates the idea of being buggered, he thought, it’s only her fear of me that is making her do this. Fear is like a perfume on her! How delicious!

He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it as leverage as he forced himself into her tight, tight hole. The sound of her screams and the sight of the tears on her face, screwed up in agony, fed his sadistic urges and spurred him on to fuck her harder and faster, rattling the cage as he slammed her against it.

Stephanie was shocked by the pain of his penetration, never having realised that a sexual act, even one as unnatural as this, could hurt so much. Her fingers clawed at the bars beneath her and she held on tightly as he yanked her head back towards him. Her screams rang out around the large, open space until, finally, she felt a strange warmth flood into her rectum, and realised that he had cum inside her.

She lay on the top of the cage, trying to cope with the churning inside her, pulling her thighs together and squeezing her buttocks when she felt something oozing out. I’ve never felt so violated, she thought, so soiled!

“Come on, slave, move your lazy ass! Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed.” Both sounded wonderful to Stephanie, and she followed the evil bastard, the one she now had to call ‘Master’, across the room and up the stairs.

“Go take a shower,” he ordered, opening a door and ushering her inside, “shave your legs and your cunt - a proper sex slave always had a bald cunt! Oh, and when you’re done, do your hair and make-up like your ID photo. Wear the glasses too, I fancy the idea of my slave looking like a mild-mannered librarian, it’ll be real sexy!”

Half an hour later, Stephanie was clean and looked exactly as she did at work - except, of course, she was naked. She looked at herself in the mirror, and was relieved to see that the welts from her beating the previous night had faded significantly and, she reckoned, would be gone in a few days.

She took a step back and looked at the overall image. Fuck me, she thought, for the first time in my life, I look sexy! I looked slutty the other night in those trashy clothes and all that make-up, but now… I never realised why men fantasise about librarians. This must be what they are imagining!

She was fascinated by her newly-shaven pussy, and examined it in some detail, prodding and poking about with her fingers. God, she thought, how ugly, no wonder nature gave it a covering! Now I look like a porn star! Mmm, I look like a porn star… She spread her lips to reveal her clitoris. It looked pink and a little swollen, and she experimentally touched it, making herself gasp at its sensitivity.

She thought back to the previous night, and how that sicko had slapped her pussy with the riding crop. You poor thing, she thought, you shouldn’t be made to suffer like that! Maybe a little stroke will make you feel better… Mmm, yes, that’s better…

“Enjoying yourself, slave? Time to get dressed.” Stephanie pulled her hand away guiltily. The man was standing at the open door, holding her stiletto shoes. Is that it, she thought, all I get to wear is shoes?! But she noticed that the bullwhip was now coiled and hanging from his belt, a constant reminder and threat of the consequences of any dissent.

She slipped the shoes on and followed along behind as he led her into the main living area. It was fully carpeted, contained a couch, comfy chairs, and a well-stocked bar, as well as dining table and chairs. One wall was taken up by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the workshop where she had spent the previous night.

“I think a few souvenir photos would be good,” the man said, “pose for me, slave!” He took out his mobile phone and pointed it at her, directing her into various lewd positions - legs spread, cupping her breasts and pushing them towards the camera, spreading her pussy lips for him, bending over and pulling her cheeks apart to display her pussy and anus while coquettishly looking around over her shoulder into the lens. God this is humiliating, she thought, I’m sure he’ll be having a good wank over these later!

“Let’s do a little video,” he smiled and, to Stephanie’s astonishment, handed her a bright pink dildo about ten inches long and designed to look like a genuine phallus, complete with bulbous head and thick veins running along the length of the shaft. She took it gingerly, bending it experimentally, feeling its considerable girth.

“Wet it first,” he ordered, “then you’ve got five minutes to make yourself cum with it. If you’re not having a screaming orgasm in five, you’ll be screaming for another reason.” He patted the whip at his side, just in case she didn’t get the message. He put a small, square digital display on the table beside him and pressed a button. The display began counting down from 5:00, one second at a time.

Stephanie, her eyes wide with terror, put the head of the dildo into her mouth, then ran her tongue down the shaft, coating it all with her saliva. Trying to ignore her tormentor holding out his phone in front of him, it’s light glaring at her, she spread her legs and, slowly but surely, eased the phallus in.

It made a good video. Her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed, her lips pursed, all added to the main spectacle of her tentatively moving the dildo up and down, in and out of her pussy. Even the sound effects were impressive, with her tiny yelps and moans gradually becoming louder and more urgent.

“Two minutes left,” he said, enjoying the fresh look of panic on her face. She worked the dildo faster, deeper, twisting and turning it to maximise her stimulation. With her desperation finally overcoming her shame, she exposed her clitoris and began rubbing it vigourously.

“One minute… 30 seconds… 10, 9, 8…”

“Oh God oh God oh God! I’m cumming! Please, Master, I’m cumming! Don’t punish me!” Stephanie screamed as the dam finally burst and she staggered backwards against the wall, overcome by her orgasm. At that moment, she heard the buzzing of the digital alarm as the countdown had reached zero. Oh fuck, she thought, did I make it in time? God, I hope so! She slumped, suddenly exhausted, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Good work, slave, you can be quite the slut when you want, can’t you? I’ll let you off being a few seconds late because you used the term ‘Master’ in the right way. But don’t try and tell me what to do, slave. If I want to punish you, I will - your begging will only make it more likely. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Stephanie responded with head bowed, blushing in embarrassment.

“Okay, let’s finished getting you dressed,” the man said, and she looked up to see him approach carrying what appeared to be a collar.

It was two semicircles of bright, shiny steel about four inches wide and a quarter of an inch thick, hinged together, with three D rings on it. Her eyes widened in dismay as he fitted it around her neck, the cold steel pressing against her skin as he brought the two halves together and closed it with a resounding click.

Stephanie’s hands instinctively went to her neck to feel this new imposition. The fit was snug, very snug. She couldn’t get even a fingernail between the metal and her neck, but it wasn’t so tight that it restricted her breathing in any way, and the rounded edges of the collar meant that it didn’t scratch or irritate the skin.

He applied similarly designed manacles around her wrists and ankles, equally close-fitting but ‘comfortable’. Jesus, she thought, even if I got away from here somehow, I’m not getting out of these until he unlocks me. I really am his slave now!

“You look really good in those, slave, they suit you,” her self-styled Master smiled, “now it’s time for you to learn some more slave etiquette. When I order you to ‘Assume the position’, you will get on your knees, spreading your thighs wide to display your cunt, put your hands behind your head, thrust out your chest and keep your eyes down submissively. Do it now!”

Stephanie quickly did as she was ordered, feeling terribly exposed as she flaunted her naked body before him. Her cheeks reddened at her shame, but she didn’t dare to disobey.

“Very good,” he said, “now a little more training. A sex slave must be expert at giving head. You’re going to give me the best blowjob I’ve ever had, otherwise…” He tapped his fingers against the whip at his belt threateningly.

Stephanie looked at the bulge in the trousers in front of her and, taking a deep breath, steeled herself for what she must do. She unfastened and unzipped the trousers, pulling them down to his knees, along with his boxer shorts. His erection sprang out, pointing threateningly towards her.

She began by stroking and fondling his balls with the fingertips of one hand, while she gripped his shaft firmly in the other, slowly moving her hand back and forth, pulling back his foreskin, before rolling it into place once more with the next stroke. She felt his scrotum tighten in response, and knew she was having the desired effect.

She leaned forward until her lips were only centimetres from the engorged member, and tantalised it with her hot breath, before poking out her tongue and running the tip of it from his glans to his testicles. This brought a moan from above, further encouraging her in her efforts.

She sucked on his balls tenderly, lovingly, as if they were the most wonderful sweetmeats she had ever tasted, taking her time and doing her best to ignore the pubic hairs which caught between her teeth. When she had done as much as she could stand, she ran the flat of her wet tongue up the length of his stiff shaft and, on reaching the head of his now-throbbing penis, pressed her lips against it and let it push its way inside.

She lowered her head until her nose pressed against his abdomen and he was entirely within her mouth. Now she moved her head back and forth slowly, her tongue playing along the length within, teasing and pressing against the hard flesh, tickling under the glans, continuing with this tantalising pace until she heard him groaning and urging her on.

Now she increased the speed of her movements, bobbing her head so that he went from completely filling her to just barely touching her lips in a matter of a second or so. His cries became louder and she knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. At the moment she felt his erection twitch in climax, she let it come out of her mouth and, turning her face up towards him, waited for the ejaculation.

The cum spurted across her face, splashing against the lenses of her glasses, before oozing across her cheeks. As the initial flow subsided, she took him back inside, sucking down the remainder of his ejaculate and, as he gradually detumesced, shrinking between her lips, she cleaned him with her tongue, taking away every last drop of his seed. Finally, she leaned back and pulled his shorts and trousers up, fastening them so that he was exactly as before.

“Jesus Christ, Stephanie,” he gasped breathlessly, “that was fuckin’ incredible! How did a mousy little librarian learn to do that?! Oh, you certainly pass that exam with flying colours!” Stephanie blushed at this praise, justifying her performance as merely doing what she had to do to avoid a whipping.

“I’m so proud of my slave,” the man said when he had recovered, “I want to show you off to the world! Come on, slave.” Stephanie looked up in alarm at this, wondering what he could possibly mean, but got no further explanation as he led her down to the workshop.

“I’ve got some work I need to do before we go out,” he said, “so you can have a little lie down while I get on with that.” He indicated towards the cage and, reluctantly, Stephanie crawled into the confined space and heard him lock the door behind her. Please don’t raise me up by the ceiling again, she silently pleaded, I couldn’t stand it!

But it seemed that he had other things to occupy him, and she was no longer the centre of his attention. He opened the main door of the workshop, revealing that it was a bright, sunny Saturday morning and, a few minutes later, wheeled the motorbike into the shop and parked it in front of the cage.

Stephanie watched as he spent the next couple of hours working on the bike, although she had no idea what he was doing. She had a nagging fear that it was something to do with her and that, eventually, she would find out far more than she wanted about his activities. But, in the meantime, there was nothing for her to do except lie down on the wire mesh below her and doze.

“You’re going to need something to wear,” he said as he released her from her imprisonment, “here, put these on.” He handed her two items of black latex which she examined, discovering that it was a pair of leggings and a bikini-style bra.

As she went to step into the trousers, she saw the slit through the crotch, and understood that these weren’t just trousers, but a fetish item, ensuring that her pussy and anus would remain accessible even while she was clothed.

She pulled them on with great difficulty because they were so tight but, eventually, she had them on and had worked out all the wrinkles so that they were smooth against her skin. They stretched from her ankles to just barely her hips, like low-rider jeans, and showed every bump and crevice of the body underneath, clinging to her like a second skin.

She moved on to the strapless bikini top, which was equally tight-fitting, moulding itself around her breasts so closely that her nipples stood out prominently. Her Master handed her an aerosol spray and cloth, and she shined the latex until she could almost see her own reflection. The process was literally sensational, as it felt as if she was fondling herself directly, every touch being passed straight through to the skin below. She spent an inordinate amount of time polishing her buttocks, breasts and pussy, but he didn’t complain. It was too good of a show to be interrupted.

When she had finished, the man stepped towards the bike to set it up, ready for her to mount. He removed the oblong of the seat cover he had carefully cut out and reached into the space beneath. Inside, he had installed two hinged joints, to each of which was attached a large dildo, and he now rotated these out of the seat until they were standing erect, pointing at the ceiling. Stephanie watched in horror, realising that the massive phalluses were located in the middle of the pillion seat, exactly where she was going to have to sit. Oh my God, she thought, they’re fucking enormous! I can’t possibly…!

“Okay, slave, climb aboard,” he smirked. Letting out a huge sigh of resignation, followed by a deep intake of breath as she mentally prepared herself, Stephanie approached the bike, put one high heel on the footrest and swung her leg over the body of the machine.

Her tormentor watched gleefully as she stood on the foot rests for a few moments, stealing herself, before beginning the process of sitting down. He took out his camera phone and videoed her as she squatted to locate the intruders where they must inevitably go, then began to lower herself onto them.

Her face showed the pain of the process, her eyes screwed up, her teeth gritted, her lips drawn back in a rictus grin as she forced herself down onto the dildos. About halfway through the task, her eyes shot open, and her lips formed a perfect O as the pain gave way to something else, something akin to pleasure. She bit her lip and pushed down harder, letting out a long, drawn-out moan as she inched her way towards the padded seat.

At last she was all the way down, and the dildos were all the way up. The man put away his phone and crouched by the side of the bike, attaching the small metal brackets he had fitted to the inner D-ring of the appropriate metal cuff on her ankle, locking her in place.

“Grab the rail behind you,” he ordered and, when she complied, locked her wrists in a similar fashion, leaving no slack whatsoever. When she realised that something had happened, Stephanie tried to move her hands and feet, but could not even get her thumbs unhooked from the chrome rail running across the back of the seat. There was slightly more play with her ankles but, although she could lift her feet, she couldn’t free them from the rests. Holy fuck, she thought, I’m locked to the bike! I’m trapped here, completely at his mercy! What the hell is he going to do with me?! She almost turned and begged him to release her but, just in time, she remembered his earlier threat.

Impatient to get on the road, the man quickly fitted the gag he had selected. It was a panel gag, similar to the one she had worn the previous night, but the phallic mouth-filler was much more intrusive, making her choke and retch as it forced its way to the back of her throat. There were three straps to be fastened behind her head, making it an even tighter fit, allowing hardly a sound to escape from her lips.

He tested the soundproofing qualities of the gag by taking a nipple between each thumb and forefinger, squeezing, digging his thick, horny thumbnails through the latex into her soft areolae. He could see from the desperate look and the tears welling in her eyes that she was suffering and must be screaming as loud as possible, yet only a quiet mewling sound reached him. He smiled in satisfaction.

Finally, he took off her glasses and fitted her helmet. It was full-face, shiny and black, like her clothes, fitted with a mirrored visor. He put her glasses back on, then shut the visor, pleased by the complete anonymity of the figure in front of him. Now, she was just a female body, faceless, expressionless, with no personality, just something to be used in whatever way he wished. She was now ready for the outside world.

He mounted the bike and started the engine, steering out of the workshop and onto the road. As he headed into the city, the traffic built up, and he realised that one of the local football teams must be playing that afternoon. On a whim, he followed the flow of cars and coaches until he arrived at the car park of the football ground, and he drove in, making his way to the motorcycle parking area close by the turnstiles, where the main crowd were waiting to go in.

Stephanie looked on in mute horror as thousands of men streamed past only feet away from her bound, gagged and exposed body. She quickly started to attract attention, and soon hordes of smiling and laughing young men were milling about her, ogling her attractive body, making lewd comments, examining the steel collar around her neck.

“’Ere, mate, nice tart,” one of the fans said admiringly, “what seats you in inside? Wouldn’t mind spending ninety minutes alongside ‘er!”

“Oh, we’re not going to the game,” the man replied, “I just thought you guys might like to meet my slave.”

“You what, mate?” the fan queried, “what do you mean, ‘slave’?!”

“She’s my sex slave,” he explained, “but I’m not the jealous kind - if you want to cop a feel or something, feel free.” The fan smiled at him disbelievingly but, seeing the unconcerned look on his face, decided to risk it and grabbed at Stephanie’s breast.

He was delighted that, not only did the rider not try to stop him, but the woman didn’t even take her hand from behind her, just letting him grope her. Feeling more confident, he raised both hands and took a breast in each, squeezing and pinching the beautifully soft mounds.

“Feel free to join in, guys,” the man said nonchalantly to the gathering around them. Immediately, Stephanie felt hands all over her and, within moments, her bra had been pulled down and her bare breasts were now being groped by many. She felt a hand between her thighs, as well as others feeling and pinching her bottom.

“Jesus,” a voice said, “she’s fucking chained to the bike! What’s going on, mate?!”

“Like I said, she’s my slave. Don’t want her running off, do I?”

The groping continued and, despite her terror at this nightmarish situation, Stephanie found herself becoming turned on by the constant mauling of her most intimate areas. Someone had managed to work their fingers into the front of her leggings and was avidly rubbing her clitoris. Soon, she was crying out into the gag in ecstasy rather than protest, although it didn’t make any difference as no-one could hear her anyway. As she became more and more aroused, she repeatedly lifted herself off the seat, fucking herself on the dildos until she reached an incredible orgasm. Thankfully, still no-one noticed.

It was about thirty minutes before the men finally left her to go through the turnstiles and into the ground. By that point, Stephanie was exhausted, having had three orgasms. Her visor was steamed up from the hot air whistling from her nostrils and the sweat which was dripping from her forehead.

She was still in a post-coital daze when the man put her bra back on her and fired the bike into life again. They drove out of the car park, and headed further into the city. Stephanie saw the crowds of pedestrians build up on either side as they drove slowly through the main shopping area, and she wondered what the mums and dads, with their small children, would think if they knew that, just feet away and in plain view, was a bound and gagged woman.

The man pulled the motorbike into the car park of a McDonald’s, and parked in the motorcycle area, once more close to the front door. He parked in full view of the main eating area, ensuring that many people would be watching Stephanie through the windows as they ate their meals.

“I fancy a Big Mac,” he said as he dismounted, “fancy anything? No? Well, you might as well wait here while I eat in, okay?” He turned away, ignoring Stephanie’s attempts to attract his attention and somehow, convince him not to abandon her. It seemed that he heard, because he turned when he reached the door.

“Oh, here’s something to keep you entertained,” he called back and pointed the remote in his hand in her direction, pressing the ‘Start’ button.

Stephanie shot bolt upright as the dildos inside her suddenly burst into life, sending vibrations shooting through her. Not only that, but the dildo in her mouth also started vibrating. In desperation, she looked to where her Master had been a moment before but he was gone, presumably inside to get his food.

Once again, Stephanie was quickly in the build-up to a forced climax in front of many people - not just those inside, eating their meals and staring idly out at the strange, half-dressed woman writhing strangely on the motorbike, but also those going into the restaurant or coming out, having eaten their fill and wondering what to look at next. To that group in particular, the sight of a woman in latex squirming about on the back of a motorbike was an interesting diversion.

Soon, she had gathered another audience but, despite that, or possibly because of it, she came yet again, and the furious vibrators showed no signs of abating. Indeed, she was astonished when they suddenly began to gyrate inside her as well as vibrate. The one in her mouth gave her the clue as to what was happening. The dildos were not just dead straight, but had kinks in them so that, as they rotated, the one in her mouth pressed down alternately on the front or back of her tongue, and scraped across the roof of her mouth.

Whatever the explanation, the effect was dramatic. She was driven to a second orgasm, and was only saved from a third by the return of her Master and his merciful shutting down of the evil torture devices.

They were back on the road, making their way through the city and out into the suburbs. Stephanie, having blissed out for a time, gradually became aware of her surroundings again. She knew where they were and, with a growing sense of dread, realised where they were going. Oh no, she thought, please, not this! Haven’t I suffered enough humiliation for one day?!

They were on the university campus now and, inexorably, drew closer to their horribly predictable destination. The bike pulled to a halt right outside the main entrance to the University library.

“I’ll see you later, slave,” he said as he got off the bike and walked away behind her, out of her field of view. Stephanie screamed after him, and frantically tried to free her hands and feet, but all to no avail. Out of her sight, he sat on the bench across the road about twenty yards away, and settled down to watch what would happen.

The library was always busy at the weekends, with students, lecturers and professors using their free time to research issues of interest. As a result, there was a constant stream of people coming and going in and out of the library and, of course, Stephanie knew them all.

This is horrendous, she thought, sitting here, on display, in these ridiculous clothes, and bound and gagged! Everybody’s looking at me! What if somebody comes over to investigate? They’ve got to be curious as to why I’m here on a motorbike, in black latex and steel collar and cuffs! Why has he done this to me?! This is just as sadistic as whipping me!

The nervous tension, combined with the intense summer heat, the black rubber clothing and the claustrophobic confines of the helmet, made the young woman break out in a sweat which gathered on her brow and trickled down the sides of her nose. Her armpits began to itch, and sweat now rolled down her side.

Everything suddenly became infinitely more difficult when the vibrators burst into life once more. Stephanie tried to keep still, hoping that if she looked like a statue people would ignore her, but it was impossible with the sensations now coursing through her body. She writhed involuntarily on the seat, whining and moaning into the gag, now grateful for its effectiveness.

Her worst fears were realised as a group of half a dozen students, girls and boys, wandered towards her to investigate the strange phenomenon before them.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” one of the girls, a redhead, asked. Stephanie stared at her through the visor, wishing that she and her friends would just go away.

“Look at this,” one of the boys said, “this collar… it’s made of steel… like some kind of kinky accessory… a slave collar… what the fuck is going on here?” Stephanie began to panic, not only because they seemed to be about to discover her awful secret, but also because she was about to have an orgasm right in front of them.

“Can I help?” her Master said as he appeared beside her.

“We just wanted to make sure that she’s okay,” the redhead explained, “is she with you?”

“Yes, she is,” he replied, “thanks for your concern, but we’re fine.”

“I don’t know,” the boy said suspiciously, “something’s not right. Why doesn’t she answer us?”

“Don’t worry, nothing’s going on,” the man smiled, “you’re okay, aren’t you, honey?” Stephanie frantically nodded her head as she fought against the delirium threatening to overwhelm her.

“Is there a problem?” Stephanie looked up at the new arrival and almost fainted when she saw that the little group had been joined by Mr Hargreaves, her immediate superior. The manager of the library peered over the students, wondering what was the cause of all the commotion outside his little fiefdom.

“No problem,” her Master responded coolly, “we were just chilling, catching a few rays.” At that moment, under the steely gaze of her boss, Stephanie climaxed, trying to pant her way through the orgasm without making it glaringly obvious what was happening. She was acutely aware of the eyes staring at her, and realised that she was now glistening with beads of sweat across her chest and bare midriff.

“Well, I don’t really know what’s happening here,” Mr Hargreaves said huffily, “but you students can move on. And I’d appreciate it if you would move your motorcycle, if you don’t mind.” With a shrug, the man got on the bike and slowly drove away, to Stephanie’s intense relief. Overcome with post-coital exhaustion, she slumped against the figure in front of her and was thankful when she realised that they were returning to the workshop. Hang on a minute, she thought in surprise, why am I glad I’m back here?! I know it’s a relief that I’m no longer being paraded and humiliated in front of my workplace, but this is where I’ve already been imprisoned and tortured! Who knows what he’ll do to me next!

What he did next was use her to satisfy the burgeoning arousal which had been building up through the day. He had enjoyed her obvious distress at being on display, and now he needed to relieve himself.

This weekend was turning out to be his ultimate fantasy fulfilled! In order to satisfy his dark desires in the past, he’d had to pay a lot of money to whores to allow him to do even half as much as he had already forced Stephanie to endure. Now, he felt invincible, untouchable - there was nothing this pretty young woman could do to stop him!

He released her from the bike and ordered her to strip, before once more indulging his fascination for bondage. He padlocked her wrist cuffs together in front of her and raised her arms above her with the winch. He locked a spreader bar between the cuffs on her ankles, pulling her legs wide apart and making her struggle to support herself on tiptoes as he stretched her to the extreme. Relishing the terrified look on her face, he picked up the cattle prod and approached her.

“Please, Master!” Stephanie sobbed, “you said you wouldn’t hurt me! You promised…”

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Stephanie,” he sneered, “this isn’t really going to hurt, it’ll be more like a bee sting!” He charged up the electric wand, firing off a couple of tests to make sure it was ready and, more significantly, to terrify his victim even more, as she watched the sparks fly between the prongs.

Stephanie certainly didn’t agree with his characterisation of the prod as delivering little more than a ‘bee sting’. She screamed as he jabbed it into her thigh and, with no gag, the sound reverberated back off the walls, ceiling and floor in, as far as he was concerned, a most satisfying way. He allowed her to recover from the initial shock and begin to beg for mercy, before thrusting the device against her again, this time discharging the jolt of electricity into her buttock.

The sight of her jerking uncontrollably as he repeatedly shocked her, and the sound of her desperate sobs, quickly brought him to full arousal. After targeting both of her breasts, he couldn’t resist the temptation to fire one last bolt into her shaved mound, bringing the loudest and most ear-splitting scream from her, before putting the prod aside and driving himself into her now-spasming pussy.

The sex was rough, mechanical, and quickly over. Stephanie took no pleasure from it, merely hoping that it signalled the end of her suffering. When he walked away and disappeared upstairs, she felt nothing but relief, even though she was left hanging by her wrists, his cum dribbling down the inside of her thighs.

The afternoon light had faded into night by the time he returned. Letting her down, he handed her the clothes she had worn when she arrived - latex top, miniskirt and shoes. Quickly getting dressed, Stephanie wondered if this meant that he was taking her home and her ordeal was over. Her hopes began to rise even further when he told her to get on the back of the bike, and they drove away from the hated scene of her latest torment.

She was confused when they arrived back at the bar where they had originally met, just twenty-four hours previously. What does this mean, she wondered, is he going to release me here? What about the collar and cuffs, I hope he’s got the key with him! Dammit, the bastard’s still got my handbag, with my house keys, as well as my credit cards and everything else!

She was mortified as he took her inside still wearing her slave accoutrements for everyone to see. Yet more humiliation, she thought bitterly, but I don’t care if it means he’s going to let me go! The bar was packed once again, and she blushed as everyone turned to stare at her.

“Evening, Mitch, how you doing tonight?” the barman said as they went over. He looked Stephanie up and down, smiling as he remembered her from the previous night. He noted the collar and cuffs, and also her dishevelled state, and drew his own conclusions. “Looks like you’ve been having yourself a good time.”

“Hey, Bill, gimme a beer. I can’t complain!” Mitch replied, returning the smile. “Is it okay if I use your back room for a meeting with the guys? Have you got anybody else serving tonight? You might want to join in.”

“No problem,” Bill responded, giving Stephanie another hungry look, “I’ll be with you just as soon as I can.”

Her Master, Mitch, led Stephanie into the back room, which had a couple of pool tables and several one-armed bandits, with a dartboard on the wall. Stephanie looked around nervously, wondering why she was here.

“Take your clothes off and assume the position,” Mitch barked, and watched as she carried out the peremptory order with barely a moment’s hesitation. This is good, he smiled to himself, she’s responding like a proper slave!

“Wait there, don’t move,” he ordered, then went back to the bar. It only took him a few minutes to round up a bunch of his friends, and no time at all to persuade them to accompany him into the games room.

“Say hello to my sex slave, guys,” he said as the group stared in astonishment at the naked woman on her knees before them, legs wide apart, hands behind her head, and eyes downcast submissively. “She’s here to serve you. Feel free to use her any way you like.” The men looked at him in wonder and surprise, then at each other to see who was going to make the first move.

“Er, after you, Mitch,” one of them said a little nervously.

“Nah,” he replied dismissively, “I can have her any time I want, any way I want. I thought you guys could give her something I never could.” All of them smiled at this, then looked inquiringly at him to hear what he was proposing. Stephanie blanched as he explained what they should do to her.

Five minutes later, Stephanie was the meat in a human sandwich - or ‘fuckwich’, as her Master called it. The man on the floor beneath her had his cock buried in her pussy, while the guy on top was simultaneously reaming her arse. At the other end, the young librarian had a cock in each hand, working them vigourously, and a third in her mouth, sucking and licking for all she was worth. Meanwhile, Mitch was smiling broadly as he filmed the whole mass of writhing bodies on his camera phone.

That strange and uncomfortable warm feeling in her rectum, which she had only felt for the first time in her life that morning, told Stephanie that the first of her attackers had been satisfied. Almost immediately, her inventive use of tongue and lips brought a spurt of hot cum, filling her mouth and, with the rather more alacrity then she would care to admit, she swallowed it all.

Having cleaned and released the rapidly shrinking member, she turned to take on the next. But she was just too late, and received a direct hit as it went off in her hand. She paused to suck and lick away what wasn’t already on her face, which is why the cock in her other hand shot its load into the hair at the back of her head.

With her hands free and the man off her back, Stephanie could now concentrate on the one filling her pussy. She pushed herself up into an upright sitting position and rode it relentlessly to her climax. The cramping of her vaginal muscles at the point of orgasm brought the man below her to his own finish, and she received his semen with something approaching triumph. I did it, you fuckers, she exulted silently as the aftershocks of her orgasm continued to wash through her, I took you all! Who’s next?!

Another five were next, with much the same result. After that, she took them one or two at a time, servicing each for the first, second, even third, time. Every permutation of her holes was used until they were all, finally, satisfied.

Stephanie lay on one of the pool tables, exhausted, covered in gobbets of congealing spunk, front and back, literally from head to toe. Wearily, she watched as the men filed out, returning to the bar and the drinks, presumably to crow over their exploits and to discuss what kind of desperate, nymphomaniac, cum-sucking whore they had just had. Only Mitch remained.

“You know, slut, I think you’re starting to enjoy this,” he scoffed, “go and clean yourself up, then come back to me in the bar.” She looked up at him, wondering if it could be true. No, she reasoned, arguing with herself, I went along with that only because I had to. When I climaxed, that was just my body reacting as it’s programmed to do… wasn’t it?

She consciously decided not to examine her feelings about all this any further, at least not until she was free of this sick, manipulating bastard. She dragged herself wearily to her feet and, grabbing her clothes, went to the ladies’ room. She used a lot of water and a whole stack of paper towels to try and remove the visible evidence of her debasement. Eventually, still feeling sticky and, more importantly, degraded by her experience, she put on her clothes, fixed her hair, and made her way disconsolately back to the bar.

As she pushed her way through the crowd, she knew exactly which of them had been in the room by the broad, smug, knowing grins on their faces. Everybody else looked at her with suspicion and, in some cases, disgust.

When she finally reached her Master, she felt humiliated as he ignored her, continuing his conversation and leaving her standing beside him. I hate you so much, she fumed, and wondered whether she should just run and go to the police. They’ll believe me, she thought, trying to reassure herself.

But then she thought of the photos and videos he could show them of her, apparently willingly taking part in, and enjoying, depraved sexual acts. Even if they did believe her, it would be argued in court, and her name and reputation would be destroyed by the press. All her friends and family would find out and be ashamed of her. She would lose her job, that was a certainty. No, she thought grimly, I have to stick it out. I’ve got to get through this on my own, somehow.

She stood there for over an hour, ignored by Mitch and his friends, and everyone else around. She realised how hungry she was when food was delivered to customers nearby, and she remembered that she hadn’t eaten all day. The only reason she wasn’t thirsty was because she had drunk so much water in the loo earlier, unconsciously slaking a thirst she hadn’t fully realised was so desperate at the time. She felt humiliated to be treated so dismissively, but then realised that was exactly what was hoping to achieve - to belittle and demean her, make her feel small and worthless. It’s working, she admitted to herself.

At last, he finished his drink and walked out, leaving her to scurry to keep up behind him. As they retraced their steps on the previous night, Stephanie thought bitterly about how much she wished that she had never left with him before. She steeled herself, trying to prepare for the abuse she knew was coming, but it was futile.

Once back in the bleak, soulless workshop, she stripped off at his command and stood impassively as he wrapped her in leather straps, applying them to bind her wrists and then elbows behind her back, across her chest above and below her breasts, and around her waist, pinning her arms tightly to her body. She opened her mouth to receive the ball of the gag, and he made her lie down on the cold, dirty concrete and open her legs. He stuffed her with a vibrator and butt plug, before strapping her legs together with belts around her thighs, above and below her knees, and around her ankles.

He had one last leather strap, which he passed between her legs, just above the belt around her ankles, and fastened it loosely. Stephanie wondered what this was for, but then he brought the winch across and down, putting the loose belt over the hook. As the motor whined and her legs were dragged up into the air, she started to cry and scream. Soon she was hanging upside down, several feet above the floor.

“Enjoy your night in the belfry, Batgirl,” Mitch laughed as he turned on the vibrator, checked the security of the belt holding her to the winch, and resumed her journey upwards. He listened with pleasure to her sobs, screams and inarticulate cries for release, and watched as she jerked and swung on the cable, responding to the insistent prompting of the vibrator.

He considered bringing her down again so that he could use the raging hard-on he had suddenly acquired, but he decided against it. I can deal with it myself, he thought, I’m sure that video I took earlier will help me along the way.

Feeling well pleased with his day, he switched off the lights and closed the door with a loud bang. Up above, the sounds of desperation continued for some time…