by Ernest Greene

Originally published in Bondage in the Buff, Vol. 2, No. 3

Transcribed by guardian46w

Story Codes: Femdom, femsub, bdsm, kidnap, X

This one was really perfect, almost too perfect.  Men who bought women were basically doll collectors.  Piles of blond hair.  That always intrigued the eastern market.  Blue eyes, plenty of mouth, bright and shiny smile that probably cost her parents a bundle in orthodontist's bills.  Nice, well upholstered frame too, and apparently all real, a rarity these days.  In a week of working dance floors packed with comely wanna-be-s hoping to attract the attention of someone, anyone, connected with the film festival, Simone had bumped up against more rubber than a billiard ball.  But from what she could see, which was quite a bit, given the low-cut bustier into which the girl was poured, this one was all factory stock.

Like the other future superstars orbiting the circular hotel bar, this golden girl had put her best assets on display.  The skirt was short and snug.  The heels were high and the stockings had seams, which were straight.  With a jeweler's eye, Simone noted the modest watch, the thin, gold necklace with its tiny stone.  Not much money there, but lots of self-confidence.

To everyone else in that bar, the blond girl might be just another pretty young thing, but to Simone, she was dinner or, more precisely, a new Mercedes coupe on the high-heeled hoof.  Simone's share would come to more than fifty K, if the deal was done on the books.  On a freelance basis, Simone might do even better.

Adriatic blue eyes regarded Simone with calm curiosity.  Simone wondered what to make of this exotic beauty with her dark auburn hair, extravagantly sensual features and hard, slender body?  Well, most of it was hard and slender anyway.  As if in an ironic afterthought, her lean physique had been ornamented with a pair of great, rosy, pink-tipped knockers that, no matter how she tried to strap them down or bridle them in, invariably popped up into everyone's face sooner or later, including Simone's.  Even in a comparatively modest, tied-off man's shirt with only a button or two left open, the effect was arresting.

"Have we met?" the blond girl asked, coolly.

"My name is Simone.  I'm a photographer.  You have nice hands.  Ever been asked to model them before?"

"Danielle, and actually, they're about the only part of me I haven't been asked to model," the blond girl replied with a laugh.

"I only shoot products, watches, shoes, leather goods, and other luxury items.  Every other photographer here is looking for tits.  Right now, what I need, is someone who takes a size six glove."

Danielle studied her fingers.

"What makes you think I need work?"

Simone shrugged.  "We all need money, don't we?"

"I suppose we do."

As they mounted the circular steps up to the rented studio, Simone's heart began to race a bit at the thought of the surprise she was about to dish up.  She felt for the tiny, pressurized styrette in the pocket of her leather jacket.  It would be just the tiniest little jab, not much more than a pinprick.  And then, sleep.  The steel cable muscles of Simone's body rippled lightly under her clothing.  Her nostrils flared just a bit, scenting for any trace of fear from Danielle, but there was only the faint memory of expensive perfume, dabbed on carefully, as if by someone accustomed to rationing precious things.

The rattle of keys echoed in the stairwell as Simone ushered Danielle into the darkness of the studio, slipping in behind her and kicking the door shut after them.

"I'll get the light," Simone said, palming the needle and slipping up close behind Danielle.  Simone froze in mid-lunge, syringe in hand, when the lights came on all by themselves.  She whirled around to see the one person on earth she would never have expected to find there.

"Liz!  What the fuck… ?"

The woman with the short, dark hair and the hard, strikingly attractive face was not particularly large, but she looked solid in her motorcycle leathers.  The silenced .22 magnum in her hand looked really solid too.

"I'd suggest you drop the hypo and put your hands in the air."

She stopped cold when Liz lifted the muzzle toward a spot between Simone's breasts.

"It'd be a terrible waste to shoot you, but orders are orders."

"Orders?" Simone shouted, "orders from whom?"

"From me," said a calm voice from over Simone's shoulder.  Simone turned slowly, coming face to face, with the grinning Danielle, who had produced a remarkably similar weapon out of her little gold evening bag.  The fucking bag.  Why hadn't Simone thought to check it for lumps in the cab?

"You've gotten very careless, darling," Danielle said, answering Simone's unspoken question.  "And very greedy," she reached out and plucked the useless styrette from Simone's hand, admiring the wicked point.

"Liquid Valium, I assume."

Danielle looked around the room, taking in the photographic spotlights on their stands, the big role of black seamless paper hung from the ceiling, the twin 35mms already set up on their tripods and, of course, the chromed steel frame in the middle of the room with its dangling chains.

"When I came to, I'd have been over there, wouldn't I?" Danielle nodded toward the frame.  Simone looked back and forth between Liz and Danielle.

"I don't know what you two think you're doing, but when Angelique who sent us.  She knows all about your little moonlighting operation."  Liz shook her head.  "You're selling the best ones on your own and sending us the seconds.  What kind of gratitude is that?"

Even Simone thought her voice sounded hollow and desperate.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm afraid Angelique's lost all faith in you," Danielle said in a nasty voice, dripping with sarcastic sympathy.  "That's why she's hired me to replace you.  And I must say I agree with her judgment.  I was surprised at how easy it was to take you down.  You really have lost it."

Simone's green eyes narrowed, sizing Danielle for a long box.

"You give yourself too little credit, Danielle," she said grimly.  "The cheap jewelry, the slutty clothes, you really had me convinced you were just another bimbo on the make.  So what's it going to be?  A suicide?  A mugging?  Put some vodka down my throat and toss me in front of a truck?"

"Please, nothing so melodramatic," Danielle said with a wave of her manicured hand.

"Angelique's expecting a shipment tomorrow.  It's going to arrive right on time," Liz explained.

Simone began shaking her head, backing away from Danielle.

"Oh no.  No way.  I'm not slave material.  You'd be better off to kill me now."

Danielle held up the still unused hypo.

"They say the hangover is a quality experience," Liz added helpfully.

Considering the situation carefully, adding it all up, Simone knew exactly what she had to do.

"I suppose you'll be wanting some pictures then," she said calmly, starting to unbutton her shirt.  She waited just long enough for the look of smug satisfaction to appear on Danielle's face.  Then she whirled and kicked, hard, planting her boot squarely in Danielle's middle.  Danielle doubled over with a sharp out-rush of air from her lungs as Simone sprang for the door, only to be tripped by a surprisingly quick and nimble Liz.  Then it got really dark for a while.

Liz was right about the hangover.  When Simone finally came around, her head felt like an over-inflated balloon.  She was dizzy and queasy and the whole room seemed to be moving around while she alone remained still.  Very still, as it happened, because she had no choice.  She stood bolt upright, spread-eagled in the middle of the steel frame.  Thickly padded leather cuffs locked around her wrists and ankles and attached to the sturdy steel chains held her precisely in check, though she did sway a bit from the vertigo.  The merciless photographic floodlights didn't help her headache much.  Danielle's voice sounded distant.

"Welcome back," she was saying.  She stood very close to Simone, face to face.  "Did you enjoy your little nap?"

Simone tried to focus on Danielle.

"Not as much as I'll enjoy what I'll do to you when I get loose," Simone managed gamely.  Danielle drew back her hand and slapped Simone across the face.  It was a cold, hard, calculated slap, without any sentiment whatsoever.  She gripped Simone's chin firmly.

"I'm only sorry about one thing, Simone.  I'm sorry I won't be there to watch them break you.  Something tells me you're going to make someone a first rate slave.  In the meantime, I've got the rest of tonight to have my fun with you.  Liz is outside making sure we won't be interrupted."

"If this is what you're in the business for, you won't last long."

"We'll see who lasts longest around her.  Now, let's get started with those pictures."

Danielle held a pair of big, nasty-looking, paramedic scissors in front of Simone's face.  Danielle took her time about it, obviously relishing her efforts.  One by one, she snipped the buttons off of Simone's shirt.  The blades were sharp, splitting open the arms and back with ease.  A quick yank and the shirt came away in shreds.

"Impressive," Danielle observed, studying Simone's well-packed black lace brassiere.  Sliding the scissors in between the cups, Danielle sliced it open with a single snip, freeing Simone's heavily restrained bosom, which blossomed forth in all its luxuriant glory.

"Nice, very nice," Danielle said as she gave Simone's tits a good squeeze, followed by a nasty, lingering tweak to the nipples, which got hard almost immediately in spite of themselves, damned sensitive things.  A couple more snips and the bra was gone all together.  Danielle circled around behind Simone and started on Simone's jeans, slicing down from the waistband.  Simone did her best not to move, but she couldn't fully suppress a shudder as the cold steel scissor blades parted the inseam.  She wished she had worn some underwear, but she could never resist the temptation to show off the wonderfully symmetrical lips of her pussy, of which she was understandably proud.

In a moment, Simone stood fully naked in the frame, except for her boots, with which Danielle didn't bother.  She stepped back to admire her catch.  There was much to admire.  There were long muscular legs, and a hard, concave belly, a high, tight butt, and those extravagant tits.  The light glaze of sweat was most flattering.

"You're in good shape," Danielle said, exploring Simone's captive body with a very practiced hand.  "You ought to fetch a good price for this," she added, insinuating her fingers between Simone's labia to give her clit a little pinch.  Enough was enough.  Simone thrashed in her bonds, rattling the chains.

"I'll kill you for this, you sick bitch!"

"My, my, what a nasty mouth you have.  We'll have to find something better to do with it.  Business first, though, don't you agree?"

Danielle stepped back and took the camera in hand.  Slowly, methodically, she made her way around Simone's body, snapping away.  She took full body shots, front and rear, profiles, upper body shots, head shots, and close ups.  She made a full portfolio.  Just for fun, she lay down on the floor between Simone's wide-open legs and shot straight up.  Simone briefly considered trying to piss on her while she was down there, but doubted she could command her bladder to open under the circumstances.  Someday!

Setting aside the camera, Danielle took up a tape measure, pad and pencil and began recording Simone's vital statistics.  She whistled when the tape finally circled Simone's chest.

"How much to you weigh?" Danielle asked casually.

"Fuck you."

"Fine.  They'll get whatever they want out of you at the Villa."

A shiver of cold dread trickled up Simone's spine.  The Villa was where the merchandise was prepared for sale.  She had been there once.  The thought of returning, especially under these circumstances, gave her no pleasure.  Danielle finished labeling the film rolls before returning to stand directly in front of her captive.

"Well, now that we've got the heavy work out of the way, we can relax and enjoy ourselves," Danielle said.

"I can hardly wait," Simone sneered.

In a gesture of the most deliberate lewdness, Danielle slipped her tongue out between her lips and licked her own fingers, wetting them thoroughly.  Then, eyes glued to Simone's, she lowered her glistening fingertips and slid them in alongside Simone's clit, slowly beginning to work it over in earnest.  As her expert hand glided back and forth between Simone's thighs, she leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"There's no reason for us to hate each other, Simone darling.  After all, it really is just business, isn't it?  I mean, we're rather alike, you and I, aren't we?"

As usual, Simone's clit, which had a mind of its own, did its best to sell her out, warming almost instantly to this all-too-familiar sensation, swelling and stiffening until it ached and throbbed.

"In what way?" Simone asked huskily.

"We both love our work, and for many of the same reasons."

Abruptly, Danielle reached up with her unoccupied hand, took hold of Simone's thick, auburn tresses and yanked Simone's head back.

"Go on, Simone, tell me you never did this to the girls you took."

Danielle planted her lips on Simone's and kissed her ferociously.  For an instant, Simone's mouth was open and yielding, seeming to surrender just long enough to get in position for a good, solid snap of the teeth.  Simone felt the inner surface of Danielle's lower lip between her incisors and tasted blood.  Danielle let out a yelp and jumped back.

"That's right.  Be a stupid cunt like all the others," she barked.  "I like it when they fight."

She walked around behind Simone, out of view.  Simone could hear her rattling around back there in a purposeful fashion that boded ill.  When Danielle came back, Simone had a truly bleak vision of her own immediate future.  In one hand, Danielle held a small, black, ceramic bowl with a pink sponge in it.  In the other, she held an aluminum cylinder resembling a flashlight with a handle at one end and a pair of copper prongs at the other, an object instantly recognizable to Simone as a cattle prod.  Just the four D-cell type, but plenty nasty.  Draped over one arm, Danielle carried a black latex ball gag on a rubber strap.

"Angelique wants you delivered unmarked and undamaged, but that doesn't mean I can't hurt you, Simone."

Simone's eyes couldn't help following her as she set the bowl and the prod down on the floor at Simone's feet.  With a swift dexterity that took Simone by surprise, Danielle whipped the gag up against Simone's lips with one hand, and pinched her nostrils closed with the other.  Simone tried to twist away, tried to hold her breath, but it was useless.  Eventually, face rapidly turning purple, she opened her mouth with a gasp to take in a lung full of air, and with it the black ball, which slid right in behind her teeth.  The strap snapped against the back of her neck.  It was a real gag, comfortable, but very effective and impossible to spit out.  Simone could gurgle and moan, but the thick rubber would absorb most of whatever she had to say.

Slowly, sensually, Danielle began to sponge the front of Simone's body.  The water was even warm.  Danielle had an eye for detail, Simone had to give her that.  The sponge lingered caressingly on her nipples, tracing the crease of her belly downward, lingering even more.

"It's up to you," Danielle purred, "I can do nice things to you if you please me."

She dropped the sponge back into the bowl and picked up the prod.

"Or, I can do other things.  I'm sure you know how well water works as a conductor of electricity."

Danielle barely touched the prod to the dripping point of Simone's right nipple and pushed the button.  There was a low, almost inaudible hum, that was instantly drowned out by the rattling of chains and Simone's stifled screeching.  It felt like a snakebite, only deeper.  She'd forgotten how much these damned things hurt.  No wonder the cattle moved.  Too bad she couldn't.

Then it was the other nipple's turn.  Carefully aligning the contacts on either side of Simone's tender, pink aureole, Danielle pushed in the button and held it, watching with pure, feral pleasure as the helpless Simone twisted and jerked against her shackles.  It seemed to go on forever.  Then, suddenly, the agony was withdrawn.  Danielle casually ran the prod down past Simone's belly button.  Incredibly, Simone actually heard herself whimpering with fear.

"I'll bet we'll get a really good connection down here," Danielle said with an evil smile.  Simone went stiff at the feel of the cold aluminum tube inside her.  This was going to be bad.  In reality, it turned out to be a great deal worse than bad!  The jolt seemed to scorch through her whole body, exploding in her head in a hail of sparks that flashed before her eyes.  Simone's frenzied thrashing only ground her delicate inner parts down into the contacts, creating new universes of torment for her to get lost in.  Someone less experienced might have hoped to pass out, but Simone knew all too well how much the body could endure before losing consciousness.  And agin, the pain stopped.  She felt the prod slip out of her.  Danielle held it, glistening wet, in front of Simone's face.

"Such a little slut," she clucked.  "If I could afford it, I'd consider buying you for myself.  Of course, I'd have to see how well you serve me."

She tapped the prod against the side of Simone's sweaty, tear-streaked face.

"You are ready to serve me now, aren't you?"

Biting hard into the gag, Simone lifted up her head, looked Danielle directly in the eye.  It was a look of pure, murderous hatred.  It was hopeless.  Danielle's appetite for inflicting pain far exceeded Simone's for receiving it.  Sensing that victory was at hand, Danielle reached around behind Simone's head and loosed the gag strap.  She tugged out the ball with a spray of saliva.

"Now talk to me, you bitch."

"Okay, okay, I'll do what you want," Simone sputtered out.  Danielle smiled sweetly and patted her on the cheek.

"Much better.  With an attitude like that, you may have a future.  I'm going to let you down now, and you're going to be a good girl.  Remember, Liz is right outside, and if you come through that door without me, she'll put a hole right through your heart, if you've got one."

With that, Danielle bent down and released Simone's legs, then unhooked her wrist cuffs from the chains holding her up.  Simone sank to the floor in a quivering heap, every muscle in her body wracked with anguish from the electrically-induced spasms.  Danielle jabbed her in the rump with a sharp toe.

"Up on your knees, you know the drill."

Slowly, Simone got unsteadily up into a kneeling position and folded her arms behind her back.  Quick as a rattlesnake, Danielle darted behind her and locked the cuffs together.

"Can't be taking any chances with the likes of you," she said firmly.  Standing directly over Simone's face, Danielle hiked up her short skirt to reveal a distinct lack of underwear.  Simone's view consisted of garters, stocking and a neatly-trimmed patch of golden curls.  Danielle grasped her head firmly in both hands and tilted it back, her thighs closing around Simone's face.  Danielle was very wet.  Simone's lips and tongue had no trouble finding what they were looking for.

"Do this right and I might let you sleep for a few hours before we ship you out.  But, if I feel those teeth again, you'll spend the rest of the night hanging by your heels."

Danielle's voice was already starting to sound dreamy.  Simone was no stranger to this work.  Under other circumstances, she would have been perfectly happy to be sucking and lapping away in such delightful regions, but there was no satisfaction in this grim labor.  She only hoped to get this vicious creature off as quickly as possible so she could rest and restore her strength.  It had been a long time since Simone had been anyone's prisoner.  She would have to regain her lost cunning at knowing when to resist and when to give in, at husbanding her inner resources and keeping her head down until it was time to strike.  And then, strike she would.  Danielle would feel Simone's teeth again, there could be no doubt about that, but not just now.

Danielle was pretty worked up from all the preliminaries so, thankfully, it didn't take long.  Soon, her muscular legs began to tremble as her iron grip on the back of Simone's head pressed Simone's face in deeper, Danielle's wet, slick inner surfaces grinding hard against Simone's mouth.  Suddenly, Danielle's body jerked rigidly.  She threw back her head and let out a long wail of triumphant, animal satisfaction.  She had made her kill, and now she feasted.

And all the while, Simone's mind was working right along with her tongue.  Tomorrow, they would start her down the pipeline.  If there was a hole in it through which a person could slip, Simone would be the one to find it.

THE END