Mature Content
Okay so before you start reading... I've had complaints in the past that I've not put warnings at the start... So, without giving the plot away... The following contains aspects of death and bereavement and dealing with cancer as well as sexual themes including bondage, latex fetish, public humiliation, slavery, rape, piercings, tattoo's and sexual relationships with big age differences. It's darker in tone than the first three parts, much more noncon, so if you don't like the sound of that stop now. Otherwise I hope you like the following.
Sofi screamed into her gag as the whip struck. Everything hurt. Her shoulders especially were on fire. At first she had tried to hold her weight against the cables. No longer. Now she just spasmed weakly when she was struck. Otherwise she hung limply, spent and exhausted, during the respites between the blows.
“So my little rabynya, you will thank me for this pain later,” cooed Natasha.
“Ank ou or mu ain, isress,” mumbled Sofi around her gag.
“Nyet rabynya, don’t thank me now kroshka. I have filled your body with endorphins. You swim in your pain now. You are in your sub space, nyet.” Natasha turned to Mike, ”Take the child down now Michael, strap her to the bench.”
Mike did as he was bid. Unbuckling Sofi’s ankles before wrapping her in a one armed hug to take her weight and releasing each wrist one handed. Free of the steel cables the girl slumped in his arm. Swinging her up into a bridal carry Mike took his slave to a padded bench and proceeded to fasten the woman spread eagle.
Natasha pushed a stainless steel trolly up to the bench and then proceeded to snap on a pair of surgical latex gloves.
“So rabynya, we will decorate you now. Transform you into the pretty seks-rabynya you want to be.”
Natasha wiped Sofi’s left nipple with an alcohol wipe then picked up a pen and marked a spot either side of the nipple. Taking a pair of slotted spoon forceps she carefully aligned the marks and clamped the nipple. Sofi grunted into her gag as the forceps squeezed.
“A little nip now malishka, but nothing like the whip rabynya.” So saying Natash drove the piercing needle through Sofi’s nipple. Sofi squealed into her gag and shook her head. Tears sprung from her screwed up eyes.
The needle through the nipple, the ring was then used to push it out, the ring was then closed with a matching missing segment to leave a smooth, bead-less, steel ring set in the girl's nipple. The forceps were removed and the ring adjusted.
“Well done malishka, the first of many. Such a lucky rabynya that her Master wants to make her pretty.”
Reaching between Sofi’s legs Natasha quickly finds Sofi’s engorged clit. Softly she rolls it between finger and thumb. Sofi groaned lustily at the abuse.
“So Sofi my dear, shall we pierce this for Master too?” Sofi’s eyes went wide at the suggestion. But she didn’t shake her head. Gagged and spread eagled on a bench Sofi just stared at the Dominatrix.
She had never been so aroused, or frightened. Would Natasha really pierce her clit? She’d heard of hoods being pierced but not the actual clit.
She had known she was in trouble the second she laid eyes on Natasha. After being given back to Master by Rachel she had been walked back to the car. Not brave enough to tell Master what Rachel had done in front of the woman Sofi had blurted it all out once back in the car.
His response had floored her. “So? You’re a sex slave. That’s what you are for. Of course she fucked you. Why are you so shocked? What did you think would happen once I collared you? That we would stay in the house playing dress up and screwing each other?”
“But Master, she made me sign the continuation forms in advance.”
“I told her to. You don’t get to back out or stop this. You are going to be a slave for life. Certainly all of mine. If I find someone who wants you aged fifty plus, then you’ll be a slave all of your life.”
Mike sat forward so his mouth was at Sofi’s ear.
“I want you to know when I’m flogging you, or fucking you, or when you are being fucked by one of my friends, that it is for life. That you’ll never be free.
“That you don’t just have to put up with it for a year or two, or three or eight, or twenty. But for the rest of you life. You will never ever be free.
“You will always be collared. There will never be a safe word. It will never end. I decide what you wear, what you eat, when you shit or if you sleep. I decide who fucks you, not you. You can’t be raped because you can't say no. You don’t have a say any more. As I said on that silly recording; There is one rule. You will obey me.”
Mike settled back into his seat, “Now slave, drive me to the main carpark in town. It’s time you met Natasha.”
Stunned to silence by the words from her Master, and the revelation that her life sentence had been his plan, Sofi did as she was bid.
Sofi thought back to the cell in the play room at home. Master had spent a lot of money on this. It had originally been for mum though. Now he was using it on her. Sofi swallowed to feel the pressure of the steel collar encircling her throat. Slave for life. She was beginning to get an inkling of what that actually meant.
Parked on one of the higher levels of the carpark Master ordered her out. As before she opened the door for him and he set off with her scampering after on her leash.
They rode the lift down alone but at the ground floor the crowd waiting for the lift gasped, at Sofi, as the couple emerged. Master ignored them, setting off for the high street with Sofi in tow.
People stopped and stared. A wolf whistle from the other side of the street made Sofi turn in alarm. Eyebrows were raised and men broke into leering grins. Sofi felt the heat of shame in her cheeks and her loins.
This continued until Master abruptly turned into a tattoo parlour. A number of people waiting within turned to look at the new entrants. An avant garde crowd, into ink and piercings, Sofi did not stir a shocked reaction but a number of the patrons stared long and hard at the leashed beauty.
Master approached a woman behind the counter. A pink mohawk did little to distract from the numerous rings and bars set into her face. Prominent among them was a finger thick ring set in the woman’s septum, so large in diameter it circled the girls mouth.
“I’m here for Natasha.”
The girl looked back at the latex clad slave and smirked, “Of course you are. Straight through to the back. Door marked ‘Staff Only’ will reveal stairs to basement. Mistress Remizova is waiting.”
Master was clearly unhappy with the pink haired woman but thanked her and led Sofi to the back and the door marked Staff Only.
The stairs down were not carpeted and Sofi’s heels clacked loudly as she followed her owner down. Initially the stairs were walled on both sides but they opened up on one side to reveal a BDSM dungeon with Mistress Natasha Remizova stood in the middle.
Natasha was a cliché writ large in leather and black. Shoes; black patent leather stilettos with what looked like a steel five inch spike for the heel.
Black stockings led up to a tightly fitted pencil skirt in black leather.
A black satin blouse open at the throat down to the deep cleavage, strained to contain a bosom clearly supported by corsetry. The blouse was divided from the skirt by a wide patent leather belt clearly designed to accentuate the effect of the corsetry beneath.
Her hands were sheathed in black open backed leather gloves. Her throat adorned with a slim black leather choker that sported a small decorative silver ring at the front, as if to mock the practical steel affair encircling Sofi’s throat. She wore a peaked leather officers cap in the style of the Nazi SS, though the insignia had been replaced with the BDSM triskelion.
Finally, to complete the cliché, hung from the belt was a black leather bull whip and a pair of regulation steel handcuffs. Clenched in her right fist was the handle of a leather crop which, to fulfil the dramatic impression the woman sought to achieve, was being smacked metronomically into the open, leather clad, palm of her other hand.
However Sofi did not take this in at first. Aware that she was being taken down into this dungeon to be offered up to this dominatrix she was fixated on Natasha’s face. It was what her mum would have called a RBF. The acronym for Resting Bitch Face. A title Sofi’s mum had bestowed those unfortunate enough to have a face, that looked like they had just smelt a skunk, when at rest.
Natasha’s piercing blue eyes (could they have been described any other way) seemed fixed on the slave, as they bore into her from under the peak of the cap. This woman was either going to be laughable or terrible was all Sofi could think.
“Dobriy den’ Michael,” greeted Natasha. Sofi noted that her voice was deep for such a slender woman.
“Hello ‘Tasha, long time no see.”
“Really? After three years! Mudak! You just waltz in and say that. And you did not tell me Chloe died. It should be you in my chains not this child you bring me.”
“It’s complicated ‘Tasha…”
“No! No ‘Tasha. You lost the right. We have history, yes. But after three years you don’t get to walk in like nothing happened.”
“I thought you were happy we left?”
“Happy? Durak! We had five years of our own and you walk away like it was nothing.”
“Natasha I’m sorry. What can I say? We were stupid, blind. We were in love.”
Natasha stared at Michael in silence. For Sofi it seemed awkward, then Natasha whispered.
“Were you happy Michael?”
“At first, yes, then she got sick. We were always in love though.”
All of a sudden Natasha lurched forward wrapping Mike in a hug kissing him three times on the cheeks. “It is good to see you, you old pervert. So you sick fuck, you’re screwing your daughter now?”
“Ouch! No ‘Tasha, Sofi is Chloe’s, not mine.”
“Did you take the girl to school? Give her lifts to her friends or the shops? Did you talk to her tutors? Plan her birthdays? Let her have sleepovers?”
“You know I did, ‘Tasha,” replied Mike sullenly.
“Then you’re fucking your daughter.”
Sofi, angry at the woman, but wary of upsetting her Master tried to stand up for him.
“Permission to speak, Master?”
“No, be quiet,” snapped Mike.
“Myshka squeaks,” observed Natasha. “Let us get her installed, then you and I can talk properly.”
Natasha used the crop to point at her feet, “So rabynya, greet me properly. Kiss my toes.”
Sofi looked to her Master but this caused Natasha to explode in fury.
“Nyet! You are in my dungeon. You follow my rules here. Kiss my toes now, slave.” Panicked Sofi dropped to her knees and crawled up to the dominatrix’s feet. Unsure, exactly how she was expected to do it, she gently kissed the toes of each shoe.
Gingerly she then rose up until kneeling as her Master had taught her.
“Better rabynya. You remember in future. A mere slave like you, crawls into another’s dungeon, and begs to kiss the feet of its owner.”
She then addressed Mike, “She is not trained?”
“I collared her this morning.”
“Yebat’ and you bring her to me to decorate so quickly? You always want to run before you can crawl.”
“Bridges have already been burnt…”
“…and you want to make sure they stay that way rather than consider her future!”
“She wants this too.”
“Does she even know what this is? Have you told her what happens next, here, now?”
“No.”
“No!? What happened Mike? You were a fuckin’ good dom. These are rookie errors.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it is… Give me the slave’s lead. We’ll get her sorted but nothing permanent until you and I have had a proper talk.” Mike handed over the lead.
“Rabynya you do as I say now, do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress,” quailed Sofi, rapidly coming to the conclusion the outfit was not all show and the woman did indeed have an air of authority.
Sofi was led over to an empty bit of floorspace in the centre of the room between two stout oaken pillars. A padded stool was dragged over and Sofi was ordered to strip and place the clothes on the stool.
Once naked, bar her collar, some heavy duty sheepskin cuffs were buckled tightly around her wrists and ankles. Then thick steel cables were pulled from each of the pillars and attached to the cuffs. With Sofi secured Natasha pressed a button on the far side of one of the pillars and the whine of electrical winches accompanied the cable pulling Sofi’s limbs away from each other.
Sofi struggled at first to keep her balance as her feet were tugged apart while the upper cables were too slack to offer support. Quite quickly though her arms were pulling her up and she had trouble reaching the ground with her feet.
Natasha played with the controls and adjusted the cables until Sofi was stood on the tips of her toes, legs stretched wide apart as she hung from her wrists equally stretched. She had never felt more exposed or vulnerable.
“It’ll get quite painful after a while, myshka,” informed Natasha from behind the helpless slave. “You’ll find yourself trying to ease the pain in your shoulders by standing on your toes. Then when that hurts too much back to your arms. Now I don’t want to hear you wailing, so…” Natasha reached around and placed the large red ball of a gag on her lips. Sofi obliged and opened wide and Natasha buckled the gag in place securely. “You’ll understand if put a cork in for now.”
Sofi, breathing hard through her nose, was already finding the pose uncomfortable. Her shoulders were pushing her collar up her throat into her chin. The gag now dug the collar in, and the only way to relieve that strain was to tip her head back. But that unbalanced her and pulled on her arms. Not a blow had been struck and already she was on her way to agony.
The two doms’ disappeared from view, but as she was facing the stairs she was reasonably certain they were still in the room. Time seemed to crawl as the pain increased. Soon she was wailing and screaming into the gag. At times she would cry and thrash about in an attempt to produce some slack in her bondage. The steel cables did not falter though and the agony increased.
Eventually she was sobbing. They had forgotten her. She had missed them leaving and she was alone. It must have been hours. Certain that she was there for the night she wondered what damage was being done to her limbs. Her tendons seemed stretched. Would she have joint issues?
First came the whooshing noise. Then she felt the impact. Finally came the searing pain. Sofi did not know whether she felt joy or terror. They were here but they were whipping her.
The noise came again and Sofi tensed this time. It hurt more as the whip wrapped around her belly from behind. Sofi squealed into the gag.
She was not used to this sort of pain. When she put the butt plug in or nipple clamps on that got her heated. That pain was delicious… How did she process this pain?
Again on the back. Reflexively Sofi tried to arch but the cables held taught.
Then something different. Still a whoosh but the impact was softer, more spread out. This one had hit her bum. This one was the right sort of pain. She tried to stick her bum out further. To signal somehow that this was good.
The flogger hit again, then again and again. The blows kept coming and the heat in her backside grew. Sofi writhed is pleasure. Snorting through her nose as drool trickled down her chest.
“Did you know, little myshka, your mother has tasted my whip?”
Natasha moved the focus of the blows to Sofi’s back once more.
“It’s where your mother met your… I shall not call him your daddy again girl. He has explained many things. It is where she met your Master.”
“Your Master has always liked latex. Like you I think. At first he just dressed up alone, like you. Then one day he plucked up the courage to visit a pro domme. She made him dress up. Teased him. Ridiculed him. Tied him up. He did not like it much, but he did not know why. Internet was not such a thing as it is now. Hard to research.”
The flogging stopped. Then the dominatrix was stood next to her. Her gloves were gone but she had the crop once more. Grasping Sofi’s jaw Natasha pulled the slave towards her. Kissing her over the gag, before licking her cheek.
“He thought he was sub. But I taught him he was dom. We became an item. Sometimes he would help me with the customers. I’d use them to teach him how.”
The crop whistled down across the cheeks of her backside. Pain! But good pain. Sofi hissed with pleasure wiggling her ass to tease her Mistress.
“You like that rabynya? Such a pain slut.” She used the crop to flick Sofi’s nipples, tapping them gently.
“Your mother had been alone for some time. Widowed after your dad was killed.” Rubbing the crop now up the inside of Sofi’s thigh.
“With a young daughter and a job she did not have time to date. So she came to me, to ease her frustrations.”
Short sharp strokes, surprisingly stingy, on the tender inside of her thighs.
“Your Master helped me. At the time we as a couple were struggling. Not surprising; two doms rarely work alone.”
Stepping behind to deliver several hard strokes on Sofi’s bum once more.
“They hit it off. I rowed with Your Master. Sent him away. He came back to collect his stuff. Foolish things were said.”
Natasha unbuckled the gag. Then stepped around in front of Sofi.
“Tell me why you are here rabynya. Get it right and I will reward you.”
“To decorate me Mistress.”
“So you pay attention, khorosho. Decorate you how myshka?”
Sofi guessed, “Pierce me, Mistress, tattoo me too?”
“Tattoo you where rabynya?”
Sofi remembered Master had said Natasha had wanted her head shaved. “My head Mistress?”
“Khoroshaya devushka.” Natasha knelt down in front of Sofi. She placed some tender kisses around the slaves mons. Before pushing the slave in her stomach, forcing the girl to hang from her wrists and bend her knees. Her vulva exposed Natasha delved in with long languid licks up the sore inner thighs. Then her tongue hit home as she parted the inner lips before traveling up to Sofi’s clit.
Before long Sofi was squealing with pleasure. But as Natasha’s tongue worked its magic the crop still flew at her sore behind.
The stinging crop only served to heat Sofi up more and more, until she was certain she was about to cum. Unsure of the rules she erred on safety.
“Please may I cum, Mistress?”
“Nyet!” Declared Natasha standing up. Sofi screamed in frustration only to have the gag unceremoniously reinserted into her mouth. “No orgasm for you slave, until you have proven your devotion. Perhaps in a month or two, we shall see.”
Sofi hanging in her restraints stared wide eyed at her tormentor. Two months? She had not gone a day without at least rubbing a quick one off since she had learnt how. Now, collared, finally living her wildest sexual fantasy she was being denied release?
The flogger was re applied with even more vigour. Sofi screamed into her gag once more as Natasha systematically flogged the slave. No part of her body was spared the cruel tails of the whip, except her crotch and breasts.
The beating continued on and on. The flogger was changed for a paddle. The bull whip took over from that, and then the crop was employed once more.
Eventually Sofi stopped squirming and writhing. The screams mere reflex responses, as the impacts registered by her broken body.
After the second nipple was pierced Natasha moved down to the slaves crotch. Too weak to lift her head she trembled in fear as gloved fingers probed her sex.
“I could fit five each side and have it look neat,” stated Natasha.
“Perfect,” responded Sofi’s Master. “How about her clit?”
“It’s large enough. May desensitise over time. What do you want to do?”
“Desensitise?”
“Some loss of sensation is all. She may struggle to come from only clitoral stimulation… Not sure..? Think on it, while I pierce the slave’s lips.”
Sofi felt the cold touch of the alcohol wipe followed by the grip of the forceps. The pain was incredible. Her scream released into the gag left her hoarse. Dizzy she screamed again as needle was pushed through with the ring.
After the tenth ring Sofi wanted to die. Her sex was just pain. It throbbed with every beat of her heart. Pulsing, burning and over whelming her and consuming her. She was sure she had passed out a couple of times but the next piercing brought her around.
“Still not sure? Lets move upstairs. We can leave it to last.”
Her tormentors came into view. Natasha started examining her nose. A nose she anticipated was about to be pierced.
“You want a large ring?”
“Eventually. Not like your girl upstairs though. Perhaps large enough to take a finger or clip a lead to.”
“Okay we’ll use a small punch and go through the cartilage. Put a tunnel in too.”
Sofi whimpered at this but could offer no resistance. She watched helpless as Natasha’s gloved hands manipulated her nose blocking her view of what was happening.
Again the pain was intense. Her eyes teared up so much she could not see. She felt warm wet running down her cheek and tasted blood behind the gag. What had they done to her?
More nasal pain then and something actually clicked. Her nose joined in with the throbbing in her tits and crotch.
The gag was then removed. Sofi wanted to plead that they stop but she was clearly just a lump of meat. Her opinion counted for nothing. She was sure if she spoke they would punish her.
“Stick out you tongue, rabynya,” ordered Natasha.
Sofi wanted to obey but fear gripped her. She started sobbing once more.
Her reward was an open handed slap across the face. “You wanted this slave,” barked Natasha. “You dreamed of a permanent collar. Of being a real slave. Belonging to someone and made to serve. Well, this is the harsh reality. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
Natash made a show of drawing her hand back once more and Sofi quickly stuck out her tongue. Natasha grasped it with a firm painful pinch.
“She’s got a vein right down the middle. The bead would be off centre.”
“Nothing you can do?”
“How about vipers?”
“What?”
“Two beads either side near the tip.”
“Ooo yes, do that. Should improve her mouth no end.”
The forceps were clamped on her tongue. Two pairs that were released and re-clamped a few times until Natasha was happy with their placement. To Sofi’s relief the pain was equivalent to biting her own tongue…twice. When the forceps were released the barbells felt enormous in her mouth.
“Yeah, do the clit,” decided Master.
“Okay. She’s your slave. Remember, these things are going to take up to six weeks or so to heal.”
“Sure, which is why she’s wearing a butt plug. Keep that useful until the others have healed.”
Sofi’s clit was suddenly gripped in an agonising pinch. The needle was driven through. With no gag in she was free to scream full volume. She did so into oblivion.
Sofi woke to pain and dark. Everything hurt. She was curled up and tried stretching out. Something banged her head which hurt incredibly. She cried out and became aware her tongue felt wrong. Then she remembered the piercings.
She tried feeling her surroundings and quickly divined her hands were manacled together. So were her ankles. She was naked except for the ever present collar. Her sore head was wrapped in clingfilm. Had they tattooed her while unconscious? Her left arm and thigh were sore too. Tentative exploration revealed dressings. More tattoos?
Laying still she felt around. She was in a small cage. Curled up in a foetal position was all she could manage. She was sore all over and pretty uncomfortable.
Sofi took stock. It had been a traumatic day. She’d woken from her self bondage to find herself caught. Caught by her step dad who she had been lusting after for years. In one short day it had turned out he knew about her self bondage all along. Had a dungeon in the basement, and had taken her to sign an indentured contract that made her slavery legal. From there he had brought her to his ex who had flogged, beaten and whipped her before piercing and tattooing her. If it hadn’t just happened to her she’d have not believed it.
Moving her head brought the ring in her nose to her attention. Reaching up with her manacled hands she felt the ring. She could fit her finger in it. Despite the pain, or perhaps because of it, the thought of being led by this ring aroused her.
So now she knew what it was to be whipped. She had been pierced. Damn they hurt, but if she was honest with herself… really honest… they were all piercings she’d fantasised getting. It was out of the way now. How long till they stopped hurting all the time though?
Moving her tongue hurt, but in a good way, like picking a scab on your knee. Her nose though was a different matter. The ring was loose through the hole. It swung about depending on the position of her head plus it felt like she had been punched hard on the nose.
Keeping still Sofi listened in the dark, but not only was the dark total but so was the silence. She tried making a noise. Her tongue hurt doing just that but she established she was not in a box. Her cage was in a room. Was it Natasha’s dungeon? Probably, but Master could have taken her home too.
So this was real slavery. Having nasty things done to you with no control. Yet… they weren’t that nasty. Not really. Mistress hadn’t let her, but she’d wanted to cum from being whipped.
They’d pierced her clit! Gingerly she reached down her belly. There was a dressing on her mons! They’d tattooed her fanny! Calming down from that she explored lower. Touching her hood she timidly probed further. Pain! But, oh, such wonderful pain. A tiny ring through her love bud. Fuck!
Master had really done a number on her. So now to wait for Master or Mistress’s return so she could see what the tattoo’s looked like.