Lola's Life

[Roparker]

Jessica - or Lola as she was now know by most people she associated with - woke up when her alarm went off on Tuesday morning.
Just as she had done every morning for the last month, she heard a quiet click as the key safe beside her bed unlocked. She took the key and sat up so she could unlock the steel shackle which was holding her to the bed from her left ankle.
Above her head, a red light flickered continuously on the camera mounted to the ceiling of the small bedroom, and Jessica - Lola - knew it was likely she was being watched. She had slept naked and chained to the bed, under the watchful eye of the camera, every night for the last month.

Jessica didn't like Tuesdays since she had begun her new life. They had generally started with a visit to a particularly unpleasant client - an elderly man who lived in a towering housing block and took pleasure in humiliating her in what had become an increasingly degrading way. His usual preference was to have her carry out chores around his apartment, naked with her wrists and ankles in shackles, a ball gag in her mouth and tight clamps on her nipples. While she worked, he watched, rubbing his clearly erect cock through his grubby pants, and occasionally grunting orders like "Bend over more so I can see your pussy", or ordering her onto all fours.

On her last visit she had found herself chained to the kitchen sink, her wrists locked securely to the faucet giving her enough freedom of movement to wield a dishcloth and clean the mountain of filthy dishes next to the sink, but not enough to do anything about the weighted clamps that the "client" had attached to her already sore and throbbing nipples. To make the situation even more uncomfortable the sink was positioned directly in front of a large window, and with the curtains open and the lights switched on, she knew she was clearly visible from any of the many apartments across the street. She tried to ignore that the twitching curtains she saw whenever she looked up from the sink meant that there were probably quite a few people taking an interest in what she was doing from afar.

After showering Jessica applied her make up in the way she had been instructed- thick glittering eyeliner, long false eyelashes, shocking pink lipstick. Looking in the mirror she thought about what a long was she had come since meeting Him all those weeks ago. Her normally mousey and shapeless hair now fell about her shoulders in loose, cascading platinum curls. The enforced exercise and dancing regime was starting to show, her face becoming more sharp as the puppy fat had dropped off, and her body looking lean and toned. The loss of weight around her waist had made her breasts look rounder and more firm - although they were bruised and marked from the attentions of another particularly sadistic "client" the previous day.

At 9am, right on cue, just as it did every day, an email alert lit up her phone. However when she opened it she was slightly relieved to see the address wasn't the one she had been expecting. Looked like she wasn't going to the tower after all today. The address she had been given for her first call of the day was a nightclub across town. Until a month ago Jessica wouldn't have recognized the name of the place as a nightclub - she'd never even set foot in a nightclub. Within the last month, however, Lola had got to know several of them very well. She hadn't been to this one before before but had heard of it. The fact that someone wanted to meet her at a nightclub, first thing in the morning, seemed strange. The dress requirements were fairly standard - g-string, stockings, high heeled shoes, a quarter-cup bra which revealed her nipples - so she quickly got dressed - well, sort of dressed, threw a short macintosh jacket over her lingerie and dialed for a cab.

It was a thankfully short journey during which Jessica thought she was going to die several times. But the driver managed to narrowly avoid any accidents by stopping ogling her in his mirror at just the right time. To try and help him keep his eyes on the road Jessica struggled to adjust the thin jacket so it covered her cleavage and didn't make it immediately obvious that she was wearing only lingerie underneath, but, like most of the clothes she had been given to wear these days, it was slightly too small for her, and her efforts were futile.

The club, in a run down part of town, looked shabby and run down from outside. The door was opened from inside as she approached - someone was obviously expecting her. She was shown in by a large, black man - perhaps the biggest man she had ever seen. To Jessica it seemed as if he was at least twice her height. He took her coat (she demurely removed it when it requested, the way she had been trained to do) and stopped to look her up and down slowly, before leading along the illuminated entrance hall. "Mr South and his friends are waiting for you - they've been getting a little bit rowdy - I hope you can handle them" he said with a grin.
He opened a large set of double doors and showed her into the bar area of the club. No music was playing on the sound system and the dancefloor was empty. A group of men - Jessica counted about 12, mostly middle aged, a few who looked a bit younger - were lounging at the bar, drinking and laughing. Most of the conversations seemed to peter out as Jessica - Lola approached the bar. Several of them whistled audibly even over the music.

On noticing her, one of the men broke away from talking to two others at the bar and jogged over to her, "Well hello, darling, you must be Lola," he said with a wolfish leer. He was wearing a suit but his shirt had come untucked and his tie was presumably long gone. Jessica realized these guys had been partying all night - that's why they were in a nightclub at just after 10am in the morning. "Well, you certainly live up to the promises we were given about you." He reached out and grabbed her left breast, squeezed it firmly and seemed to look satisfied. "Mmm" he hummed.

Jessica was getting used to the mild shock she experienced each time the Lola programming kicked in. A month ago she would have run screaming if a strange man had grabbed her breast. Now, almost without having to consciously do so (almost) she moaned mildly in apparent pleasure, and stared deeply into his eyes as he groped - not roughly, but almost scientifically as if measuring their firmness. When he removed his hand she placed her own hands behind her back and stood facing him with her shoulders pulled back and chest pressed forward, and her legs slightly apart - the way she had been taught to stand when first meeting a new client. She knew the purpose of standing in this position was to allow the client to get a good look at her body, and watched his eyes as they ran down the curve of her neck to her breasts, down over her taught stomach, and lingered on the flimsy g-string which covered her shaven cunt.

"How can I please you, master?" She asked. He seemed to consider this for a while before laughing - "We'll get to that! Let's just hang out for a while and chill, we've all been up all night having a good time, and thought it would be nice to have some female company."

Jessica allowed her body to relax slightly. Her instruction had taught her the difference between when she was supposed to please her clients as a slave, and when she was supposed to please them as a woman.

"Come and sit down and have a drink - I'll introduce you to some of the guys."
He took her hand and led her to the table where he had been sitting. He introduced her to the two other men as Lola. He didn't bother to tell her their names - as he hadn't even divulged his own - but pretty soon Jessica picked up that his name was Jim. The thin, mean-looking man of around 40 who kept licking his lips when he looked at her was called Cookie, apparently. And the younger, muscular black man was called Frank. From the way they talked Jessica assumed they were blue collar guys - and soon enough she learned that they were - gambling buddies who'd made good on a card game the afternoon before and had been celebrating since.

She chatted to the men for a while - they asked her the usual questions about where she grew up, was she still at school, did her parents know she was out - that she was used to getting from older men hitting on her. Seemingly within seconds of her sitting down, Frank, who was seated to her left, had his hands on her thigh as he explained they hadn't had any female company all night and were feeling a bit pent up. Cookie, on her right, took every opportunity to touch her hand or her shoulder as he talked about the luck they'd had at the casino. Jessica - Lola - giggled coquettishly when they complimented her ("You have beautiful eyes, and pretty good tits too.) She explained that no, her parents didn't know she was out - meaning she was a bad girl and would probably get a spanking when she got home. They laughed and Lola flirted back with them for a while until the conversation took a natural lull (Cookie seemed to be too preoccupied with feeling her inner thigh under the table to talk, and had begun to move his hands towards her pussy) and Frank, who seemed more drunk that some of the others, was basically just staring at her. "Ok, enough small talk", Jim declared, "Let's see what you can do, Lola - dance for us." Jim whistled at the bartender and pointed upwards. The tired (he had undoubtedly been forced to stay up all night, too, by these guys) looking bartender reached up and flicked a switch at his head, and music - not too loud - filled the club.
Lola peeled herself away from Cookie's hands and climbed up onto the table. Stretching her arms towards the ceiling and clutching them above her head, she began to move her body, winding and writhing, the way she had been taught three times a week for the last month. Some of the men stopped talking entirely to gawp at her, while some of them carried on conversing, throwing her the occasional glance. The bartender didn't even seem to notice her.
Jim however was watching her intently. After she had been dancing a short while, he mouthed the words "strip" to her while their eyes were locked. Obediently, she unstrapped the bra behind her back and let it fall to the floor, before pulling down the almost non-existent g-string and stepping out of it. More of the guys lounging around the club had turned their attention to her, and a few of them started to move towards the table where she was performing, to get a better vantage, as she danced in just her thigh-high white stockings and pink stiletto heels.
"If everyone's not watching you, you're not trying hard enough." The memory of her masters words hit her, like the crack of a whip. Memories of hours chained to a stripper pole in another nightclub, not too different to this one, as she struggled to perfect the moves - knowing that failure to do so would result in extreme punishment - flooded back to her and she had to close her eyes to be able to keep dancing without them overwhelming her.

She lowered herself down, lying on her back on the table with her legs apart and began to writhe as if she was being fucked, in time to the beat of the music. "That's what I'm talking about!" one of the guys - a big, cowboy-looking guy - yelled as he took a ringside seat to watch the action. Jessica rolled onto her front and moved her hips as if she was humping the table, before rolling onto her back again, and fixing another new audience member - another black guy, this one with a gold tooth - in the eye as she ran her hand down her body, cupping her breasts, and then moving them towards her pussy suggestively.

As the song came to an end she looked at Jim, and after briefly applauding her he stood up and took an empty champagne bottle from the table, and handed it to her. "Now let's see what you can do with that."

Shit, thought Jessica - although she'd been expecting it, she was hoping she'd be able to put off penetration - with hard objects at least - as much as possible today. She had spent a good deal of the previous day with a metal rod inserted deep into her cunt and was feeling pretty badly bruised inside. Nevertheless she knew that the penalty for failing to keep these men happy would undoubtedly be something worse - so she took the bottle and lay back down on the table, gritting her teeth as she slid the neck of the bottle into her tight cunt, and began to writhe, and moan.

Several of the men had taken their phones out and were recording her. "Let's see you come", someone shouted, to cheers of approval. Lola began to work the thick bottle neck into her pussy, just a little way in at first, but gradually moving deeper. Just a month ago there was no way she would have been able to do this. Even if she had wanted to, she would have been far too nervous to be relaxed enough, in front of a group of strange men, to bring herself to orgasm. The intensive training she had been put through since then meant, however, that her body was now conditioned to orgasm far more freely that it had been before. It was not long before she started to feel the warm tingling sensation between her legs, spreading up her stomach and through her whole body. She cried out loudly as she brought herself to a noisy and wet climax as the men watched, cheered and laughed. When she had finished she allowed herself to collapse limply, lay panting on the table.
That was when she felt someone grab her wrist. It was Jim. She lay obediently still as he wrapped a thick cord around her left wrist, and ran it under the table to her right wrist, then her ankles, so Lola tied firmly, spread-eagled, facing upwards on the hard table. "Right , you've had your fun, now its time for ours," he stated coldly.
For the next four hours or so, Lola lay helpless as she was penetrated by the men, one after the other. Sometimes she found herself being used by two or more of them at once - one pulling her head back so he could fuck her mouth and throat, as another one drilled into her pussy. Around half way through, she was almost thankful when they untied her to move her onto her front, tying her securely again, so they could use her ass. The anal sex was very painful and uncomfortable, but at least it gave her cunt some recovery time. Then she was back on her front and - almost slipping out of consciousness - realised that she was either being fucked by someone with a really monstrous cock or ... no ... they were fucking her with the fat end of a pool cue.
At one point Jessica realised there were quite a few more than the 10 or so men she had originally thought were present - perhaps some others had been in another part of the club and had moved to this room to join the fun. Now it seemed there were at least 20 of them, and by the time they had finished with her, Lola was sure that each of them must have ejaculated at least twice - some of them (in particular one stumpy, unshaven men) seemed to have cum more than that, even. Cum ran down her legs, covered her breasts and she was nauseous from the amount that had been pumped down her throat into her stomach. None of the men were gentle with her - the audience yelled "what a slut" and "tear up that ho" as they cheered their friends on. Cookie, in particular, was particularly cruel, grabbing and twisting her nipples hard as he pushed his cock down her throat. Then, just as he was about to come he pulled out and, using his hand to hold her eyelid open, shot his load directly into her eye, to riotous laughter from the audience. Lola winced as the sticky cum burned her eyes, and screwed them tightly shut. This means she didn't feel the slap coming. Someone - she couldn't know who - had bashed her sharply with his hand on the side of her face. Then she felt a sudden and intense pressure around her throat and realised that someone was strangling her. The pressure grew tighter and Lola fought for breath, but with her hands and feet securely tied there was nothing she could do. A feeling of intense panic rose in her, and then everything went blank.

When Lola came to, she was lying in the back of a taxi - the same one which had brought her to the club. Her whole body ached and feeling for her face she realised she probably had a black eye. She was still naked - the guys in the club hadn't bothered to put her clothes back on before they had called her driver back and thrown her into the cab.
"Looks like you had a fun morning, miss" The driver grinned as he peered back at her through his mirror.
She looked at her own reflection - she did indeed have the beginnings of a black eye showing. Her breasts and the inside of her thighs looked as if they had been stained a deep purple. Her jaw ached from being held open for so long. Among the host of unpleasant sensations scrambling for her attention was an unusual, scratchy pressure that seemed to be coming from her bowels. She put her hands between her legs and noticed something hard protruding from her anus. Taking hold of it she pulled, sliding out what turned out to be her fee -at least they had paid her - a tightly rolled bundle of bank notes. With nowhere else to put them, she clutched the notes in her hands for the remainder of the journey, wondering when she would get the chance to hand it over to her master.

[Roparker]

She had been face to face with him just 10 times in the month since he had taken control of her life. The memory of each encounter burned in her mind like a jagged scar in her psyche. None more vividly than their first meeting.

Having met in chatrooms and agreed, following an email exchange, to meet to conduct some mild experiments with bondage to test her likes and limits, Jessica had found herself naked and tightly bound, kneeling on the floor of his basement. Harsh lights shone on her from each side - photographic studio lights - illuminating her body as she struggled against the ropes. This had gotten a lot heavier than she had expected, a lot faster ...

The first ropes, binding her hands behind her back had felt much as she expected they would - the sensation of power loss seeping through her as the knots tightened. But as more ropes were wound around her - pulling her shoulders inwards and back, causing her breasts to push forward - which in turn were tightly bound with cord - an entirely new sensation. She was pushed to her knees, forced into a kneeling position, with her legs apart. Her hair - still brown then, was pulled back and tied, the rope running down her back and secured to her bound wrists, forcing her to look straight ahead, at the tripod-mounted camera that was recording everything that was happening.

Jessica - not yet told that she would be known as Lola - listened to the sound of her new owner's footsteps as he paced around the room, evidently preparing something. She heard the noise of a the metal trolley she had noticed when she came into the room being wheeled towards her. Her master was in front of her now, and then she felt a sharp, piercing pain in her left nipple, and realized he had clamped something onto her. She began to sob, gently, from the pain, which suddenly intensified as her other nipple was also clamped.

Then her master was behind her, stooped so his head was level with hers, judging by the sound of his voice. She felt a cold, uncomfortable sensation, completely unfamiliar, and realized, slowly, that he had pressed something hard and metallic-feeling into her anus. She felt a variety of other sensations as he touched various parts of her body - her wrists, fingertips and forehead, but without being able to move her head she was unsure what exactly he was doing.

Then he was in front of her again. "Ok, this how we get to know each other," he said.
"I'm going to ask you some questions now and you're going to answer them. You're hooked up to a lie detector and I'm going to analyze your answers. If the machine tells me you're lying, this is what will happen."

A searing burst of pain shot through Jessica and she arched her body, resisting for as long as she could before letting out a scream of agony.The pain wracked her for two or three seconds before it stopped and her body went limp. It was the worst pain she had ever felt - she realized it was obviously from the object she had inserted in her anus - an electrode of some kind - but more than that, realized she was willing to do just about anything not to have to feel it again.


"You must answer honestly and quickly. If you take too long you'll get this."
This time it was her breasts that seemed to catch fire - obviously the clamps that were biting into her nipples were electrified as well. It was still agonizing - though not as bad as the shock inside her anus - and once it stopped, and the sensation in her nipples returned to one of sharp, biting pain, rather than burning electrical pain, it was a strange relief.

So the questions started. A few easy ones to start with ...
"Are you scared?"
"Yes."
"How old are you?"
"18"
"What day is it?"
"Saturday"
"What is your name?"
"Jessica ..." She hesitated. She hadn't told him her full real name yet, and before she had found herself in this situation had thought she would probably try and keep it secret for a while, at least until she felt she could trust him. Then she was arching her back again as she fought against the electricity coursing through the tender, nerve-cell laden flesh of her nipples. "Jessica Carrington", she cried, and the pain stopped.
"How many men have fucked you?"
"Three."
Have you had group sex?
"No."
"Since you were an adult, have you been naked in the presence of more than one man?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about it."
"A couple of years ago, some friends and I went skinny dipping. There were four guys there and two girls."
"How often do you masturbate?"
"Two or three times a week I guess."
"What do you think about when you masturbate?"
She hesitated again - but this time managed to pull her thoughts together in the nick of time, just before his finger hit the button. "Being degraded, tied up, hurt", she stammered.
Have you ever fantasized about sex with animals?
This time she hesitated slightly too long. She screamed - her nipples seemed to be getting more sensitive each time they were shocked, making the pain worse each time.
"No!" She screamed, a touch of anger and defiance in her voice for the first time.
There was a pause. Then she felt herself pressed forwards involuntarily as the sensation of her body's spasms hit her before the first wave of pain. She screamed again, this time there were no words audible, just pain.
"Yes..." she whimpered.
"Tell me about it."
"One time ... one time I masturbated while I thought about being forced to put a dog's penis in my mouth."
"Who was forcing you to do this? In your fantasy?"
"My ... my father", she sobbed, before breaking down into loud fits of tears.

Several hours later she collapsed, all energy drained from her, onto the stone floor of the cellar, as the ropes holding her in place were removed. Her master switched off the camera which had captured everything - every detail of her deepest and darkest fantasies - things she had expected that no one would ever know about her. The fact that, from the age of 13, she had experienced a sense of illicit thrill by undressing with her bedroom door open at times when she knew her brothers or her father might happen to walk by and peer in. That last year she had carried out a six-month long sexting relationship with a teacher at her school, more than 20 years older than her, filling all of his many requests for pictures of her stripping and posing erotically. That she fantasized about being tied down and gangbanged mercilessly by groups of men. All of it was on that camera, and that meant that she was now owned.

[Roparker]

Since then, Jessica had worked for him. He'd given her a new name, and a new home. After their first meeting he'd given her the keys to a small, one bedroom apartment in a pleasant part of town, and told she was expected to live there.
Luckily being by nature independent she had moved out of her father's home some time previously to live with a boyfriend, and continued living alone after that relationship ended. The change of address was not to difficult to explain.

The new home was wired to let her master watch her 24/7. Cameras covered every corner of the small number of rooms - a bedroom, living room, poky kitchen and a bathroom that was really just a shower cubicle. As well as the key safe there were a number of other devices designed to allow her to be controlled remotely. All the lights in the apartment were remote controlled, and were switched off at midnight every night, shortly after she had chained herself to the bed. The doors could be locked and unlocked remotely - a feature He had used several times to allow men to come and visit her while she was sleeping, shackled and naked. As well as the cuff which was locked with the key in the safe, and which was positioned to be attached to her left ankle, there were shackles on each of the other three corners of the bed. While most nights she had to follow her standing rule of securing her left ankle before sleeping, on other nights she would be told to first restrain her other limbs - or some combination of them, before closing the final, unopenable clasp. These were the nights - forced to sleep spread-eagled with her legs pulled apart, that she knew it was likely she would receive visitors.

Still slipping in and out of consciousness in the back of the taxi as she was driven home, naked and bruised, Jessica heard a familiar ring tone and realized with sudden relief that she had at least managed to keep her phone with her. Most likely it had been retreived from the pocket of her mac and and thrown into the taxi alongside her. It was Him. Composing herself for a moment so she could sound at least awake when she answered, she picked up the phone.
"Hello, Slut."
"Hello Sir."
"How was your morning?"
"Hard, sir."
"I know, I was watching."
He was always watching. All of the clients - however he met them and whoever they were - were clearly people who knew him well enough to trust him. Most of the time they would give him recordings made during her visits. Sometimes, like today perhaps, he was given direct access to CCTV so he could watch live.
"You did well, as always, slut."
"Thank you Sir."
"Go home and rest for a few hours. You will need your energy for tonight. I've got something special planned for you."
"Yes Sir."
She just about managed to stay conscious for the rest of the trip home, and the driver chuckled as he helped her out of the car and to the front door of the apartment. "You kids today!"

Back at her apartment Jessica slept again until her phone rang once more. "Get up, you're leaving in two hours and you've got a bit of work to do to make yourself presentable."
In the bathroom she washed the make-up - long since ruined by tears - from her face and applied concealer as best as she could to cover the bruise which was forming around her eye. Then she redid her make-up and wondered what was going to happen to her tonight.
It's not like I've got a choice, she thought to herself. Then another voice piped up in her head - You've always got a choice - he's made that clear from the start. You can walk away whenever you want, but not without consequences.

There was a knock at the door. As she had been instructed, she quickly walked over to open it immediately, without stopping to cover her nakedness. She stood in the doorway with her bruised tits and cunt on full display and the leering deliveryman stood with his mouth open as she signed for the package, walked back into the apartment to place it on the bed, and smiled and winked at the deliveryman, "Thanks, honey", before closing the door.
Inside was a dress - an elegant, flimsy black gown with no back which draped down to her ankles when she tried it on, but was split up to the thigh to show her tanned legs. It was cut low at the front, exposing her cleavage, and was cut away at the waist. There was also a pair of black stiletto heeled shoes and a handwritten note. "For tonight. You will be picked up at 8."
Slipping her feet into the heels, Jessica noticed that the buckles fastened with small padlocks. There didn't seem to be a key in the box, so after clicking them shut she resigned herself to the fact she would probably be wearing these shoes for a while.

TO BE CONTINUED MAYBE

[Roparker]

As always, the driver seemed to know where to go. He made idle small talk as they drove out of town, and as Lola was relatively decently dressed this time he managed to keep his eyes on the road.
"You're a busy girl, aren't you? Well got to pay the bills I suppose."
Of course he assumed she was a prostitute. He picked her up two or three times a day, and she was always dressed for work. One one occasion two men had accompanied her as she traveled between parties and she had spent the ride sat naked between them, masturbating them both simultaneously as the driver watched in his mirror.
The urban landscape shifted to a rural one as they made their way out of the city and before long were traveling on tight country roads. Shortly after that the car turned onto the driveway of a sprawling country manor. A party was clearly in full swing as the driveway was filled with parked cars - they all looked expensive. Other cars were arriving and dropping off well-dressed guests, and a doorman was checking invitations as they - mostly men, but a few women too - made their way through the front doors. Lola's taxi passed the front entrance, though and carried on along the path that led around the side of the mansion - the biggest house Lola had ever seen - and finally stopped at a much smaller entrance at the back.

"Here you go, miss, have fun," the driver said with a wink. Lola let herself out of the cab and knocked on the plain looking wooden door. Of course this was some sort of staff or servants entrance, she realised.
The door was opened by a rough-looking, squat man in a stained apron. "Get in, you're late." He barked at her. Once inside she found herself in what appeared to be a large kitchen. Nothing was being cooked here, but the room was bustling with people. Standing against one was Lola saw a group of around a dozen girls, all naked, all around her age and all beautiful. They were all standing with their hands behind their backs, and the shackles on their ankles suggested their wrists were cuffed, too. A man, also dressed in an apron was making his way along the line - he had got about half way so far - attaching painful looking devices to the girls which seemed to consist of two metal bars, one above and one below the breast, attached to some sort of ratchet mechanism. After clamping the breasts between the bars, the man turned a small crank on the side of the device several times which seemed to have the effect of crushing the breasts even more tightly. The girl currently being fitted with the device - a petite Asian-looking teenager with very large breasts for a girl of her size, broke down into sobs of tears as the clamp was tightened. Lola saw her legs buckle and thought she was going to fall, then when she didn't, she noticed that she, and the other girls, were all shackled to the wall behind them, by the collars they were wearing. Next, the man took what looked like a small silver tray and attached it to the front of the breast clamping device. It seemed to lock into place on the harness, and gave the impression that the girl's breasts were being carried on the tray. Thin cords from the outide edge of the tray - furthest from her body,ran up to the bars on the harness and help the tray in a horizontal position. A bit was forced into the girl's mouth, and strapped tightly behind her head. Before long Lola found herself shackled along with the other girls, with the same device painfully pressing her already bruised breasts. One thing Lola had noticed was that all of the other girls seemed to have flawlessly unmarked skin - so were perhaps not as used to this sort of treatment as she was. This feeling that she was somehow different was confirmed as the man fixing the devices to the women got to her, and drawled, "Ah, you're the special entertainment, aren't you? I think you're going to have a particularly unpleasant evening, miss."

[Roparker]

As always, the driver seemed to know where to go. He made idle small talk as they drove out of town, and as Lola was relatively decently dressed this time he managed to keep his eyes on the road.
"You're a busy girl, aren't you? Well got to pay the bills I suppose."
Of course he assumed she was a prostitute. He picked her up two or three times a day, and she was always dressed for work. One one occasion two men had accompanied her as she traveled between parties and she had spent the ride sat naked between them, masturbating them both simultaneously as the driver watched in his mirror.
The urban landscape shifted to a rural one as they made their way out of the city and before long were traveling on tight country roads. Shortly after that the car turned onto the driveway of a sprawling country manor. A party was clearly in full swing as the driveway was filled with parked cars - they all looked expensive. Other cars were arriving and dropping off well-dressed guests, and a doorman was checking invitations as they - mostly men, but a few women too - made their way through the front doors. Lola's taxi passed the front entrance, though and carried on along the path that led around the side of the mansion - the biggest house Lola had ever seen - and finally stopped at a much smaller entrance at the back.

"Here you go, miss, have fun," the driver said with a wink. Lola let herself out of the cab and knocked on the plain looking wooden door. Of course this was some sort of staff or servants entrance, she realised.
The door was opened by a rough-looking, squat man in a stained apron. "Get in, you're late." He barked at her. Once inside she found herself in what appeared to be a large kitchen. Nothing was being cooked here, but the room was bustling with people. Standing against one was Lola saw a group of around a dozen girls, all naked, all around her age and all beautiful. They were all standing with their hands behind their backs, and the shackles on their ankles suggested their wrists were cuffed, too. A man, also dressed in an apron was making his way along the line - he had got about half way so far - attaching painful looking devices to the girls which seemed to consist of two metal bars, one above and one below the breast, attached to some sort of ratchet mechanism. After clamping the breasts between the bars, the man turned a small crank on the side of the device several times which seemed to have the effect of crushing the breasts even more tightly. The girl currently being fitted with the device - a petite Asian-looking teenager with very large breasts for a girl of her size, broke down into sobs of tears as the clamp was tightened. Lola saw her legs buckle and thought she was going to fall, then when she didn't, she noticed that she, and the other girls, were all shackled to the wall behind them, by the collars they were wearing. Next, the man took what looked like a small silver tray and attached it to the front of the breast clamping device. It seemed to lock into place on the harness, and gave the impression that the girl's breasts were being carried on the tray. Thin cords from the outide edge of the tray - furthest from her body,ran up to the bars on the harness and help the tray in a horizontal position. A bit was forced into the girl's mouth, and strapped tightly behind her head. Before long Lola found herself shackled along with the other girls, with the same device painfully pressing her already bruised breasts. One thing Lola had noticed was that many of the other girls were showing indications that they were in the same position she was. Most of them had bruises and welts on their skin, with hair, make up and body decorations designed to make them look like particularly slutty barbie dolls. Several of them looked like perhaps they had been in her situation for considerably longer. While her own breasts were being fitted with the clamp-like device and serving tray, Lola could just about turn her head enough to see the Asian girl who was before her in the line - who was sobbing gently, her large breasts already starting to turn a deep red.

However this feeling that she wasn't anything special faded as the man fixing the device to her sneered, "Ah, you're the special entertainment, aren't you? I think you're going to have a particularly unpleasant evening, miss." With the final word he gave the small crank an extra yank, crushing her tender and bruised tits between unrelenting steel bars.

Once they had all been prepared, the girls were led out of the kitchen. As they exited, glasses of fizzing wine and plates of canapes were placed onto the trays they were all carrying in front of them, suspended from the harnesses that were squeezing savagely at their breasts. Lola struggled to keep balanced in her heels with her hands cuffed behind her back, and the champagne in the glasses sloshed precariously. One of the aproned men who were ordering them clearly saw this and snapped, "Anyone who drops or spills anything is going to very, very much regret it."

With that they were led through two large sets of double doors into what was clearly the main reception room - an ornately decorated hall , with chandeliers and expensive works of art hanging from the walls. The guests had all put on masks since they went through the doors - Lola realized for a moment that it was strange that they hadn't arrived wearing them - they clearly weren't worried about their identities being known by their fellow guests or the party organizers. Were the masks purely for the benefit - or disadvantage - of the "entertainment"?

She also noticed that her group of 12 girls was not the only "entertainment". Among the well-heeled guests - the men wearing tuxedos, the relatively small number of female guests wearing ball gowns - were other, young, slim girls, some naked and some wearing revealing lingerie. Some were offering around trays of drinks and snacks, others were entertaining in various ways. Lola saw one small, naked,red headed girl being ordered to walk around on all fours by a group of braying men. Another girl was lapdancing for a group of men who were lounging on a plush sofa in one corner of the room.

As her group split up to head to different sections of the room to refresh the guests, Lola saw that other girls had been put to work as living statues - immobilized with ropes and secured to the classical columns that lined the room. All of them looked as if they were tied in ways which were exceedingly uncomfortable - hands hoisted high above them forcing them to struggle to spread the weight of their bodies between their aching, stretched limbs, and their tip-toes. Or their arms and elbows tied behind their backs forcing them to arch their backs and press their chests forward. This made them tempting targets for the guests who stood admiring them, some occasionally reaching out to twist a nipple or slap one of the statue girls' on her exposed cunt.

Oh well, I guess I'm here to serve - Lola thought, and set off towards a group of men who didn't seem to have drinks in their hands. She had only taken a couple of steps though when she felt a heavy hand fall on her shoulder and a loud voice boom
"Ah drinks, excellent, come here slut."
Lola turned around to see two obese, masked men who quickly grabbed the glasses from her tray.
"Thank you sirs," she curtsied, as she had been taught do do when serving. "Can I do anything else for you gentlemen?"
The fatter of the two men seemed to light up at the suggestion and moved towards her, wasting no time in putting his hand straight onto her cunt and rubbing it as they spoke. "Hmm Im sure you can, my dear," he leared, running his eyes over her body from top to bottom as he spoke to her, slobber forming on his lips. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for fun tonight, I will eat, first though..." His words trailed off and he was left seemingly just staring at her tortured breasts and lost in thought. Then he moved his hand from her vagina and took her left breasts in his hand. "These look like they are getting sore, my dear, do they hurt?"
"Yes, sir", Lola said, honestly.
"Oh dear", he didn't seem too concerned, as he gave the nipple a tight squeeze and then sharlpy slapped her tit with the palm of his hand, before turning his back, indicating that for now he was done with her.
Lola returned to the kitchen to be given more refreshments to serve. Once she was again laden with glasses of champagne she made her way back into the hall. Then another masked man approached her. What he said next made her blood freeze.
"Hello Jessica."
Shit. How did this man know her real name. The voice was kind of familiar but she couldn't quite place it.
"Sorry, of course you don't recognize me - its a long time since we saw each other! you have certainly grown. Does Richard know that you're up to this sort of thing?"
Shit. It was someone who knew her dad. Perhaps a colleague from work she had met at some party or event.
Jessica didn't know what to say so she stuck to her programming. "Its a pleasure to be able to serve you tonight sir, is there anything I can do to please you?" She asked.
The man laughed, "Ah good, you really don't remember me! Oh , this is going to be fun."
"Sorry Sir, I don't." She replied.
"Oh, this is too good to be true," laughed again. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipped it to camera mode and shot a picture of her."
"I'm sure I'll think of plenty for you to do for me later, honey", he said. "I'll see you after the meal."
Jessica curtsied once more, then turned but as she moved, still reeling from the shock, misjudged her balance, causing the glasses of champagne she was carrying to fall to the floor and shatter.
"Oops", said the man who seemed to know her father.
Within seconds, her arms and shoulders were firmly held by two of the aproned men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. They half-marched, half dragged her back to the kitchen.
"Another one dropped a glass, sir" The man dragging her by her left arm told the supervisor.
"Ah dear, into the fridge, then."
Before she knew what was happening, she was pulled to the far side of the kitchen where a large, steel door was opened. With horror she realised this was the refrigeration room. As soon as they pushed her inside, an icy cold blast sent shivers through her naked body. The guards followed her in, and releasing her arms as they began to adjust chains and shackles which were hanging from the ceiling of the room.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realised she wasn't alone. Another girl - a skinny, almost flat-chested brunette - was already inside the refrigerator and looked, from the way she was shivering, like she had been for some time. The poor thing was standing with her arms cuffed behind her back, and her legs shackled. A chain running down from the ceiling was attached to the bar piercing her tongue, and her head had been yanked back as the chain was pulled taught, forcing her tougue painfully far out of her mouth, and immobilizing her. She was making no noise but her face was contorted into an unmoving expression of agony, as she shivered in the cold.
It quickly became apparent that Lola's immediate future involved sharing the fate of this girl. The guard stood in front of her has he pulled the chain down from the ceiling, then removed the bit from Lola's mouth, grabbed her tongue between her fingers and fixed a small clasp at the end to the bar in Lola's tongue. Then he let the chain fall - and because she was standing unsupported, the heavy weight dragging down on her tongue caused her to drop to her knees, allowing the ground to take the weight of the chain's slack.
Then she heard a ratcheting sound - the guard had pressed a red button on a control panel fixed near the doorway, and the pulley above her began to wind in the chain. She was forced first to her feet, and then onto her tip-toes as the chain pulled her tongue firmly towards the ceiling. The pain was intense - both in her tongue, which felt like it was being ripped from her head, and her calves, as she strained the muscles in her legs to take as much weight on them as she could. When she thought she had been stretched as far as she possibly could be, the merciless chain jerked a final inch higher, and she let out a long, hard scream.
"See you in a couple of hours, girls!" the guard said with a laugh, as he and his friend walked out of the refrigerator, closing the door and leaving them to suffer in the pitch-black and cold.

[Roparker]

Jessica's first thought as the darkness closed around her was that she wouldn't be able to stand this pain for long and would pass out. While this would come as a relief she also registered a flash of panic when she realised that if her legs gave out, she would effectively be hanging with her full body weight on her tongue. Fortunately after a few more moments she realised that probably wasn't going to happen - although the painful burning sensation running up her entire body - from the tips of her toes to the tip of her outstretched tongue was growing more intense - every second brought a new wave of pain more intense than the last.
The discomfort was intensified by the extreme cold - within seconds of the door closing her body had begun shivering with an intensity she hadn't felt before. The only part of her body which didn't feel the penetrating bite of the cold was her breasts. Still clamped firmly into the sprung device, they had begun to burn like two balls of fire.
With no way of knowing how long she would be forced into this position, she screwed her eyes closed and began to moan, the sound growing louder and high pitched each time a fresh wave of pain washed through her.

[slavedareshelby]

please continue its soo good

[Roparker]

Gritting her teeth, she screwed her eyes shut and, as she had begun to learn was the best way to get through these sorts of situations, stopped trying to fight the pain. Letting it roll over her, she resigned herself to feeling every burn, every spasm that passed through her body. "Become the pain", as he had told her.
This worked for a couple of seconds and she almost thought she was going to be able to stand it - then, without her being able to control it, her mind flicked back to wondering what would happen if she passed out.
He had told her to trust him. He had promised her that no matter how unpleasant, uncomfortable, wracked with pain or humiliated she felt, no real harm would come to her. No broken bones, no cuts that would scar, nothing that would make her seriously ill. Sure, she had spent hours bent over the toilet vomiting, the first time she had been made to drink urine, but she had known she was safe and it would pass.
Forced by her flitting thoughts to again seek refuge from the pain, her mind wandered back to the first time she had found herself placed in a vulnerable position where it did not seem He would be able to intervene if she got into trouble.

[Roparker]

The burning afternoon sun was scorching her as she had walked across the forecourt of the truck stop and into the cafe. Even so, every eye in the room turned to her as she entered the small bar, the resting truckers and just-passing-through drifters hungrily eyeing her slim body - wearing only a tiny white blouse, unbuttoned from the bottom and tied just below her breasts, and from the top, to expose her cleavage, a ridiculously tight, high-cut pair of shorts which revealed most of her buttocks as well as putting the clearly-defined outline of her pussy on full display. And of course the stiletto heels, fastened around her ankles with small padlocks.

It was a quiet day - perhaps because the air conditioning was either switched off or more likely broken, given the general state of repair. Half of the seats at the bar were occupied by solitary drinkers, mostly middle aged, men, balding, greying and with round bellies. A youngish couple - perhaps a few years older than her, sat at a table in one corner studying a phone, presumably they were travelers planning the next leg of their journey. A group of men were gathered around the pool table, playing and laughing with each other. One of them let out a loud whistle as soon as Jessica stepped through the door. This was her cue - approach the first man who showed sexual interest in her.

"Hi, honey", she purred demurely at him, smiling sweetly as she had been taught to do while addressing a man, while she was wearing the thin, pink diamante collar she currently had fastened tightly around her neck. A reminder - whenever she turned her head, or swallowed - that she was in "slut mode" and the only thought that should be going through her head was how to sexually arouse, and then satisfy, whichever men she was in the company of.

"Well, hello you!" replied the man - actually younger than she had first taken him for. Casting her eyes over the group she realized they were probably only a few years older than her, perhaps her brothers' age. He spoke with a local accent - perhaps rather than travelers as she'd expected to find at this isolated venue, they were from the small town she'd passed a few miles down the road, as He had driven her here.

Clearly assuming this was a lucky random encounter and hoping for a bit himself, one of the guy's friends - a shorter, sturdier man with a thick beard - chipped in "I know it's hot baby, but you could have put some clothes on!"
The guys burst out laughing and Jessica giggled, "Oh I'll cover up then, shall I?"
"No need!", said the first guy quickly. "So what brings you to this god forsaken place?"

Jessica trotted out the cover story as she'd been told. "I'm meeting my friend here for a road trip, but he's broken down a few towns back and is waiting for the car to be fixed. I forgot to bring my purse though, can any of you handsome men buy a girl a drink? I've got so hot waiting here..."
The fat guy had made his way over to her and stood close, "of course, babe", he said - his hand already on her ass before he'd finished - "What will it be?"
"JD and coke", she replied, making no attempt to remove herself from his grasp, even though it would only have taken a small step away from him. Taking this, as well as the coquettish look she gave him, as a sign that his attentions were welcome, he squeezed her buttock firmly ,then slapped it before walking off towards the bar.
"Ouch!" she murmured, feigning shock. "You can't spank me ... I haven't been bad ... yet..."
The guys around the table had all stopped playing and talking and were watching her. Seeing the way she had reacted to their friends' treatment, their interest was piqued. This girl looked like she was going to be fun.
She walked over to the pool table, picked up one of the cues and leaned forward as if aiming to take the shot, arching her back and pushing her ass out, spreading her legs slightly. The guy sitting behind her spat out the mouthful of beer he had just swigged. One of the other guys noticed this and laughed. "Who wants to play?" she asked, looking straight down the cue.

"Okay but we're playing for money, darling. Ten bucks on each game, winner stays on."
Jessica stood up and looked at him, "Oh, but I told you, I'm out of cash."
"Well that's a darned shame... you got anything else we might be interested in?" He was grinning suggestively as he spoke.
"Well, I have one idea - as I need some cash - how about I play for clothes? I'll take of one thing I'm wearing every time I lose a game?"
She already had their full attention but now the guys were practically panting. The older guys at the bar had turned to watch, too. So had the guy with his girlfriend, until Jessica saw her angrily direct his attention back to the maps on their phone.

"Sounds like a good deal!" The guy answered. Ok well I guess you're up next then! Joel," he said, pointing at a smaller guy with a goatee and pony tail, "just beat Stan." He pointed at the guy who had been sitting behind Jessica when she bent over the table, whose Iron Maiden t-shirt was now splattered with beer.

Jessica had only played pool three or four times in her life, and lost every time. Of course she did the same now - Joel had all his balls and the black in the pockets before Jessica had potted more than two. The men around the table laughed and nudged each other. When Joel cleared the last ball, they let out a cheer.

"Oh well, I guess I have to stick to my word", and Jessica unfastened the final buttons on her blouse that were just about holding it on her, before slipping it off her shoulders, folding it and placing it over the back of a nearby chair. Underneath she was wearing a pink, string bikini top which practically just consisted of two small triangles of material barely covering her nipples. The guys - already seeming slightly drunk, cheered again.

The men who had been sitting around the bar had now hovered over to the pool area and were leaning on nearby tables, watching what was going on. The couple got up to leave - as they passed the table, Jessica heard the girl say, probably deliberately loud enough to be heard, "what a slut!"

Joel was up against a guy called Dick next - a tall, muscular man who beat him, and then beat Tom, who, from listening to their chat, and occasionally joining in, she found out was Stan's best friend. The two of them were hitch-hikers passing by, and the rest of the group were indeed local boys from the nearby town, who regularly made the trip out to this roadside bar to drink, because several of them were not welcome in the bars in town due to their rowdy behavior.

Tom lost to Cass, the guy she had first approached, and then Cass beat Waldo - the fat guy who had bought her the first drink. By this time she had sunk two more, as she flirted with the non-playing guys. Waldo obviously wasn't his real name - his friends had once again broken out into raucous laughter when he stated it - but she didn't press him on it.

Then she was up again. Losing to Cass, she wriggled out of the shorts, then allowed Waldo to pull her down to sit in his lap while she waited for the next game. Immediately she felt him start to grow hard through his thin pants, and she wriggled her ass into his crotch in encouragement, as she had been trained to do.

When her turn came round again she was up against Dick. Seeing she was going to lose again anyway, Tom decided to offer her some "help", standing behind her with his crotch pressed against her ass as she bent over the table, wearing just her heels, and the tiny pink thong and bikini top. Despite his assistance - which mainly involved him running his hands up and down her body as she leaned forward and tried to make her shots - she lost again, and blushed deeply as she untied the top and exposed her breasts to the small crowd which had now gathered to watch.
Playing pool almost naked in a bar surrounded by strange men was not something she had imagined herself ever being able to do, just a few short weeks ago. Yet here she was - enjoying it wasn't the right word - but she was coping with it. So far. Certainly it was more tolerable than some of the tortures she had endured at the start of her training.

One more game and she was naked, as she had known full well she would end up when she made the suggestion. "What now?" Asked Dick. "You're out of clothes and still haven't made any money!"
She swung herself up to sit on the edge of the table, placing her hands on the felt behind her and leaning backwards, so her body was on full display. "How about you all fuck me?"
The guys laughed but then didn't say anything else right away - as if no one could quite believe what she had said.
"What ... here?" Asked Cass.
"Sure. I just lie here like this ..." she opened her legs, exposing her shaved pussy to the group, "and you all take turns."
Cass looked over at the barman who was already looking back. The barman smiled and nodded, then walked over to the front door, turned the sign to "closed", and turned a key in the lock.

[Roparker]

It wasn't her first gang bang. In fact it was her third. This time she didn't even have to try and force herself to stay in character. She moaned in pleasure as the first cock - Joel's - slid inside her. It was bigger than average but she didn't have to fight to stop the pain from showing in her face. To the onlookers, she looked just as keen and wanton as the porno models in the videos she had been forced to endlessly watch, usually while undergoing some form of torture, while being trained into Lola.

Joel was practically drooling as he pumped away at her. In character, Lola moaned and writhed, squeezing her vaginal muscles tight around Joel's cock. When she saw he was about to climax, she stopped him. "Not in there - on my face or tits."
Joel grinned and pulled his cock out, wanking himself the last leg of the journey and then spraying warm, sticky goo across her face. As she had been taught, Lola moaned in pleasure as his juice coated her mouth and chin, then extended her tongue to take in as much of it as she could reach, before swallowing it down. Then she sat up slightly, taking her weight on her elbows, to allow herself to wrap her lips around the quivering cock,still just inches from her face as its owner loomed over her, breathless. She sucked gently, teasing the last drops of cum from him, and swallowed that too, then smiled and purred "Thank you, daddy" just as she had been trained.

(Daddy while wearing the pink collar, Sir while wearing the black collar).

Then Cass walked forwards to take his turn...

Aside from the humiliating situation - these guys were just randoms, after all, not the "clients" she generally entertained - this was easier than other similar circumstances she'd found herself in. She wasn't tied or chained for a start, or clamped, gagged or impaled on a giant butt-plug, as she had been during other gang bangs. These guys just couldn't believe their luck - they weren't trying to degrade, humiliate her or hurt her.
The majority of them came quickly ,after just a few minutes of rutting as Lola squirmed on the table in front of them.

Only Dick was different. Bigger and slightly older than the other guys, he stared intently into her eyes as he drilled into her. For a moment she felt like he was looking straight through Lola - the nymphomaniac, bimbo sex doll - and seeing Jessica - the humiliated, abused slave girl.

He took longer to come that any of the others, and while he fucked her he spoke to her, calling her a slut and telling her how much she looked like she was enjoying herself (but did he believe it? she thought). Then he spat in her face - prompting laughter from the other men - and just before he came, grabbed her left tit in his large hand and squeezed it hard, causing her to whimper in pain. When he came, he ordered her to open her mouth and fired straight down her throat, causing her to gag.By now she was coated in semen, which ran down her face and over her chest.

Tom was the last. As she lay on her back regaining her breath, her tongue, as if on autopilot, flicked out to take as much of the sticky cum into her mouth, then down her throat into her stomach, as possible. She was close to vomiting, but had learned to control that reaction. Her master had slowly increased the amount of semen she was forced to drink, and she knew she could normally take a pint or so before her body started to complain about it.

"Well, that was fun, boys, lets do it again soon", she smiled as she put her skimpy outfit back on. Then she walked out, past the barman who obligingly unlocked the door and held it open for her, and out to where he was waiting in his car.

[Roparker]

The sound of the refrigeration room door sliding open brought her back to the present. The apron-clad guards - or whatever they were - had returned.
"Not too cold I hope!" One of them shouted.
"That's thirty minutes. You're done!" It seemed like she had been trapped in the refrigerator far longer but the relief was overwhelming. As they released her tongue from the chain which had held her in place she glanced at the girl next to her - held fast and painfully in the same manner as she had been, wrists cuffed behind her, and stiletto-heeled ankles fastened to the floor. The girl tried to mouth something which looked like "What about me?" and the guard laughed, replying "Not you missy, you got to chill a while longer."
"Got special plans for you, think I mentioned it before ... well, they're almost ready for you," he said to Jessica, ending with a chuckle.
With her tongue released Jessica was able to look at her breasts for the first time in a while. They had turned a deep, dark red, clamped between the iron bars of the tit-pressing harness she was still wearing.
As she looked down the guard seemed to notice this too. "Oh, I guess that can come off now." He loosened the metal levers on either side and a feeling of relief washed through her as the pressure on her tender, bruised breasts was released.
Wrists still cuffed and ankles shackled together, she was led out of the refrigerator and then out of the kitchen through a different exit door to the one she had been taken through before.
This led to a narrow corridor which seemed to skirt around the circumference of the ballroom. After passing through several fire doors and janitorial-looking areas, she was led into what seemed to be some sort of curtained-off stage area. A thick curtain hung down, presumably separating the area from the ballroom where she had spilled her drink a very long half-hour ago.
"Oh well, she thought to herself, I guess I'm going to be on stage..."
In the center of the curtained off stage area was what looked like a large, oblong, marble block. Thick leather shackles were attached around the edges of the block. Jessica's wrists were uncuffed, but she only managed a moment's comfort from rubbing them before they were once again forced into restraints - strapped tightly into the leather bindings attached to the block. Rather than spread-eagled though, one her ankles were also strapped down she found herself held in an unusual position. Both of her wrists were shackled together above her head, with one of her legs stretched down to the base of the block and shackled there. Her other leg was pulled out to one side, meaning her body was pulled into a sort of lop-sided "T"
shaped. Then straps more straps were pulled into place, around her thighs, her waist and her throat, holding her firmly against the cold, hard stone. The apron clad guard left her, switching off the light and leaving her in darkness.

After lying in the dark for a short while, relieved that, though tightly restrained, and aching from the hardness of the marble, no part of her body was actually being deliberately tortured for the moment. she heard a chime, from the other side of the curtain, and the murmur of voices died down.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice said. "Please take your seats for the first show of the evening."

[Roparker]

The curtain rose, and Lola found herself in front of an audience. Perhaps a hundred people had taken the seats at the front of the stage, and were watching as the spotlights switched on, illuminating her naked, shackled body lying on the marble block. Although the strap around her neck held her too tightly to move her head much, she could just about make out their shapes though the corner of her eye.

Then she heard footsteps and what sounded like something being wheeled onto the stage. When their source drew close she was able to see a tall, thin man wearing an expensive looking suit had wheeled a metal frame over to her. It stood over her - a long metal bar running parallel to the length of her body. Small hoops ran down the length of the pole and Lola watched as the man looped what looked like a very thin wire into the loop furthest from her - above the leg which was shackled to the opposite end of the block to her head. And although she couldn't see it, she felt it as he tied the wire tightly around her little toe, then pulled it taught.
After attaching the next wire to the next loop on the rail above her, he held the loose end up to the audience, who watched as he attached a small, evil-looking toothed clamp - a crocodile clip. Then she felt a sharp sting of pain as he attached the clip to the fleshy part of her calf.
The next wire was clamped to the sensitive, tender skin of her inner thigh, and again pulled tight. Lola winced in anticipation of what was coming next and yes, surely enough the next clamp went onto her labia. She pursed her teeth and bit her tongue to stop from screaming.
The man worked his way up her body, attaching clamps to the flesh of her stomach, then her left nipple, then her already badly abused tongue. After attaching each clamp he tightened the wire until is was taut and all of her most sensitive parts were clamped and stretched out towards the metal bar above her.
When he had finished preparing her for whatever he was doing he stepped back and presented her to the audience - who burst into polite applause - with a flourish of his hands.
Then he bent down, disappearing from Lola's view, and when he re-emerged he was holding what looked like a stick - no - it looked more like a bow - for playing a violin, or some instrument.

The man ran the bow up and down the wire attached to Lola's toe, and she screamed in agony. The vibrations running down the taut wire felt like a dentists drill when they hit the bones of her toe - the wire pulled so tight it felt like it was cutting through her skin. The audience clapped once again.
Then he moved the bow to the wire attached to her thigh, and Lola gritted her teeth. When he played this wire, it was twice as painful as the one attached to her toe had been. The ultra-sensitive skin of her inner thigh burning as the vibrations seemed to make the clamp bite deeper into her flesh.
Then he moved to the wire attached to her nipple - which was more painful for Lola still. Each time he drew the bow across one of the wires , she let out a piercing scream. She realized she had effectively been transformed into a grotesque musical instrument, operated by torture.

The musician didn't let up. With increasing vigor and excitement he ran the bow between the wires. When he started on the wire clamped to her pussy, Lola thought - prayed - that she would pass out, but no such mercy came about. Her voice had become so hoarse that screaming itself was painful, aside from the biting, burning pain in her genitals.

[Roparker]

She had no idea how long the "show" went on for. For the most part the audience sat and watched in rapt silence. After a crescendo of screams as he drilled the bow against the wire attached to her pussy, over and over, for what seemed like an infinity, he stepped back, and bowed, to a rapturous standing ovation as the curtain fell.

The man didn't even look her face as he calmly and quickly released each clamp from her tender spots, and untied the wire around her toe. Then he spoke to her for the first time - "Well done", and walked off the stage, leaving her a sobbing, quivering wreck, fading in and out of consciousness.

[sexyandiloveit]

Love this story! Please tell me there is more to cum!

[Roparker]

After her performance, Jessica had been given a few days' peace. Maybe to recover, maybe to prepare her for something even worse she would soon have to endure. Jessica had no way of knowing.
She continued to live under the watchful eye of her master's cameras and was sure that her activities were being monitored. She knew he monitored her GPS location by tracking her phone, and using the app he had made her install, could switch on her microphone or camera remotely at any time. But the release of the remote-controlled locks which kept her shackled to her bed as she slept was the only sign she had from him. No jobs had appeared on her phone, and no orders.
That changed on the third day when her phone lit up as she sat applying her make-up. "Meeting. 11am. Spread Eagle, 4th Street", followed by detailed instructions of what she should wear.
Walking through the busy shopping center, although it was a warm day and there were plenty of women displaying flesh, she still felt more exposed than most, in the thin, pink lace corset and shorts cut high enough so her buttocks were almost entirely on show. The six inch heels she was wearing drew even more attention towards her, as did her sexualized walk - swaying her hips - trained into her during long sessions which she had spent lashed to a treadmill. Every man she passed eye-raped her, some going further with wolf whistles and suggestive comments. As she had been taught, she smiled demurely at every man who made eye contact but kept walking, excusing herself politely when they persistently tried to follow her or strike up conversation.

She arrived at the destination - the Spread Eagle, an old fashioned and run-down looking bar with a small entrance up a short set of steps, in a residential part of town just beyond the business district. She walked in - with no idea of who she was supposed to be meeting. The clientele were all middle aged or older men and the silence as they stared at her was broken by her phone telling her a message had arrived.
"Buy a drink and then sit at the table at the rear of the bar, close to the bathrooms".
She did as she was told, the barman eyeing her greedily as he poured her coke.
She took her drink and sat as she had been ordered. At the table opposite her a group of men stopped talking as she took her seat, and began laughing and joking among themselves as they looked across the bar at her. She sat with her back to the wall, facing into the room.
Her phone beeped again. "Cuff your left wrist to the leg of the table".
She took the cuffs from her handbag where she had been told to carry them, and obediently locked them closed around her wrist, and then around the leg of the table.

She sat sipping her drinks and enduring the stares of strangers for about half an hour before the door to the pub opened again, and a tall man wearing a smart black coat over an expensive looking suit walked in. He walked straight over and sat at Jessica's table, opposite from her, and studying her intently.
Jessica knew how she was supposed to act but for some reason this man's stare brought a lump to her throat and she stammered as she spat out "H..hello ..s..sir.."
It wasn't that he looked particularly threatening. She had become used to being used and treated like a toy by men who were physically two or three times larger than her - rough men who weren't at all worried if she got hurt as they threw her around, held her down, slapped her face and pounded away at the most sensitive parts of her anatomy with their large penises. This man looked like he would be more than happy to hurt her, too, but it different, more calculated and precise ways.
"Hello Lola", he said. "I'm a close associate of the people you have been taking orders from and I'm here to make you an offer."
He spoke in a low tone so as not to draw attention from the other occupants of the bar - who presumably thought he was a client who had arranged to meet his whore here. Maybe he was. Looking at his eyes, though, Jessica didn't think he looked like a regular John.
"I work for an organization that puts girls like you to good use," He said. "It's a simple offer. Your master has agreed to release you from his service if you come and serve me instead."
Jessica wasn't sure what he could mean, so she continued her silence.
"You will need to come away. For two years. You won't be able to tell anyone where you are going, and if you agree to this, there's no backing out. You will be the property of me and the organization I work for, for two years. At the end of two years, you will be paid one million dollars. And then you will never hear from me, your current master, or anyone else involved in our little game, for the rest of your life."
Jessica struggled to take it in. As she tried to formulate something to say - something to ask
"You don't have to say anything."
The man opened his briefcase and pulled out an envelope. He put the envelope on the table in front of her, and then placed a pen next to it.
Using her free hand, Jessica took the envelope and looked inside. A single piece of paper with the simple statement "I agree that my body will become the property of Eros Services Ltd for the period of two years, in return for the sum of $2 million, to be paid in full on completion of two years' service". Below was written her real name.
She wondered for a second if he was serious - then her phone beeped again. "He's serious. It's your decision."
Two million dollars was more than Jessica could hope to earn in ten lifetimes. Finally she spoke "What if I say no?"
"You stay in the service of your master. I expect he will get bored of you eventually and set you free but that's up to him - I have no idea what plans he had for you before he accepted my offer to buy you."
She picked up the pen and signed her name in the space provided. "Good girl. You made the right decision. We will be in touch soon."
He got up to leave - "Wait a minute - you said I had to go away - where am I going?"
"Shouldn't you have thought to ask that before you signed your name?", he laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."
"Well what about this?" she lifted up the hand that was cuffed to the table, as far as she could.
"Oh yes, I forgot, sorry!" the man said. Then he turned and walked over to the group of men sitting at the opposite table who had been struggling to keep their eyes off of Jessica while she was talking to the serious (and dangerous) looking suited man. "Here you go boys", he called to them as he tossed the key to the handcuffs to them. "Have fun with her, and unlock her when you've finished."