As it turned
out, Marina had a surprisingly delicate touch.
The tall, amazonian Latina carried out her instructions to the
letter. First she wet down Bonnie's right armpit with a
wet towelette, applied a modest coating of shave cream, then
carefully and expertly shaved said pit with the safety
razor. She then repeated the process on Bonnie's left
pit. Not wanting to get herself nicked, Bonnie kept the
squirming to an absolute minimum, but it was difficult.
Dr. Folke's assessment was accurate. Bonnie was
ticklish. She considered it odd that she could shave her
own armpits with total impunity, but when someone else did
the deed... it tickled. It tickled like crazy.
The same went for shaving Bonnie's legs, but to a lesser
extent. That is, it tickled as the razor glided along her
skin, especially on her inner, upper thighs, but not as much as
it had when Marina had shaved her pits. Again, it was
because someone else was wetting, lathering, and shaving her
legs, and not Bonnie herself. First her left leg was
foamed, scraped, and rinsed... and then her right.
What happened next also tickled, and embarrassed her
terribly. Just being naked and spreadeagled was
distressing enough, but when Marina picked up the electric
razor, clicked it on, and slid its steel, comb-like head through
her pubic bush, Bonnie thought she'd die from egregious
mortification. Also, it tickled! Marina took her
time, making several slow passes. She paused to adjust the
shave head to a slightly closer setting, then repeated the
Bonnie wiggled and shivered and tried to keep still, but it was
nearly impossible. She also giggled through the tape or
plastic film or whatever sealed her lips. This
amounted to modulated humming and very unladylike
chortling through her nose, all of which Marina seemed to find
As a result of Marina's "ladyscaping," Bonnie's dark-blond bush
was reduced to dark-blond ground-cover, or possibly a sparse
lawn. Her short-and-curlies were too naturally thin and
feathery to become true stubble, so the result was decidedly
girlish, as if her bush was just starting to grow in, rather
than having just received a serious trim. That, of course,
wasn't embarrassing in the least! Bonnie blushed
and tugged on her bonds as Marina clicked off the razor and
returned it to the cart.
Next came... The Moisturizing.
Bonnie watched as Marina pumped lotion onto her hands, rubbed
them together, then turned and smiled. Their eyes locked
as Bonnie tugged on her bonds, yet again. The expression
on the muscular Latina's beautiful face wasn't as disturbing as
it had seemed earlier. Bonnie didn't know if familiarity
(in the full sense) had anything to do with it, or if Marina's
attitude had become less evil. Or maybe it never
has been evil, exactly, Bonnie decided. She
certainly didn't appreciate being arrested, stripped, and...
involuntarily groomed, but Marina didn't meet her preconceptions
of the stereotypical sadist... probably... she hoped.
And then, Marina put her hands to work, and very good hands they
were. Strong. Gentle. Skilled. As Marina
massaged Bonnie's torso, breasts, shoulders, tummy, arms,
thighs, thighs, legs, and feet, Bonnie decided she'd pay good
money for this sort of thing—assuming she could afford it—only
without the bondage or her job being in jeopardy, of course.
And then, just when Bonnie glistened with berry-scented lotion
from neck to toe, Marina pulled a fast one. It turned out
the restraints binding Bonnie's wrists and ankles could be
released from their attachment points and reattached to other
attachment points. Before Bonnie realized what was
happening, Marina had re-positioned her left wrist and ankle
next to her right wrist and ankle—released her right ankle and
wrist—flipped her onto her stomach—and reattached her right
wrist and ankle to the table. Bonnie was once again in a
loose spread-eagle, only now she was face down. She'd
never been completely free during the switch, but that didn't
keep her from metaphorically kicking herself for not having had
her act together, erupting from the table in a flurry of
flailing limbs, subduing Marina (Yeah, right.), and
regaining her freedom. Unlikely in the extreme?
Impossible, actually, but you can't blame a naked,
half-moisturized, half-massaged girl for dreaming, can you?
Marina replenished her hands at the pump and proceeded to make
Bonnie a naked, fully moisturized, and thoroughly
Despite her nervousness and resolve to somehow regain her
liberty, Marina surprised Bonnie again when she released her
left and right wrists, pulled her arms behind her back with
irresistible but gentle force, and locked her wrists together
with rubber-clad handcuffs. Bonnie tugged on her new bonds
as Marina released her ankle restraints. Then, the Latina
amazon lifted Bonnie into her arms like a baby, smiled, and
carried her from the room and down the hallway.
Their destination was a nondescript door bearing an engraved
plastic sign that read "INTERVIEW ROOM 9." The door
whisked open and Bonnie's eyes popped wide.
"Mrrrpfh?" She'd been expecting to see either a pair of
chairs facing each other across a simple table (the formal
option) or possibly a pair of overstuffed easy chairs and a
coffee table (the casual option). Instead, she was staring
at a single, decidedly ominous steel chair. It was
constructed of rectangular, heavy-duty steel stock with welded
joints, and while at the moment it was a conventional straight
chair with armrests, strategically positioned gears and sliding
lever arms hinted at possible reconfigurations.
Oh-by-the-way, it had rubber-padded steel clamps on the armrests
and near the floor, ideally situated to restrain a hypothetical
occupant's wrists and ankles—and Bonnie had a very good idea
that she was about to become that occupant.
"Quiet, chica," Marina chuckled, carried Bonnie to the
chair, and, despite her struggles, plunked her naked butt on the
cool steel of the unpadded seat, grabbed her right foot and
closed the clamp around her ankle, then did the same with her
left ankle. She then released Bonnie's handcuffs and
clamped her left and right wrists to their respective
armrests. Next, she swung a much larger, padded steel
clamp around Bonnie's waist and another around her neck, further
securing her in place. Marina then adjusted the
clamps—triggering a series of clicks—and Bonnie found herself
very solidly bound to the chair.
The prisoner-of-the-chair squirmed and tugged on her implacable
steel bonds, mewled through her sealed lips, and watched Marina
stroll to a telephone mounted on the wall next to the open
door. The Latina lifted the wireless handset, punched a
button, and held it to her ear.
"Ready in room nine, doctor," the Marina said, smiling as she
gazed at Bonnie's struggling body and wide-eyed, gagged
distress. Seconds passed as she listened. "Yes
doctor, I understand." She hung up the phone and strolled
back to Bonnie. "Unfortunately, the doctor will be busy
for a while and I have to return to my other duties, so I'm
afraid you'll have to be patient."
Marina continued past Bonnie and her unpadded, mildly
uncomfortable chair and out of her steel-collar-limited
field-of-vision. "Mrrrf?" She heard what she took to
be the sound of a cabinet opening, seconds passed, then Marina
stepped back into view with something in her hands. It
slid into a track mounted under the seat between Bonnie's
splayed legs, and she realized it was a wand-style vibrator
attached to some sort of steel bracket! "NRRRF!"
Marina ignored Bonnie's squirming, mewling distress as she made
adjustments to what might be called a "vibrator module."
It locked in place with its business end firmly pressed against
Bonnie's pussy. The wand's smooth, rounded head was
designed to maximize contact with her mildly squashed labia and
her most energetic attempts to wiggle away were totally
"This will keep you entertained until the doctor is available,"
Marina purred, then turned and strolled towards the door.
She turned in the open threshold and smiled. "Thank you
for your cooperation, Miss Schnupp," she added, and the door
"Mrrrpghnrmf!" The lights dimmed as Bonnie tugged on her
bonds and struggled to escape the chair. "Mrrrk!"
Then, she froze in place, her eyes wide. The head of the
vibrator was doing its thing! It was vibrating!
Bonnie shivered in her bonds. The vibration wasn't very
intense, but it was definitely there. It was
also making an audible buzzing noise... and the buzzing and
concomitant vibrations were modulated. They grew
stronger... then weaker... then stronger again.
Seconds passed... and became a minute... then two.
Bonnie became convinced the vibrator was not only modulating its
stimulation, but was slowly increasing the net level of its
effect. That is, the graph of diddling over time was
trending upwards! Either that, or I'm getting more
sensitive, she reasoned, or both!
As the relentless stimulation continued, Bonnie panted through
her flaring nostrils and her breasts heaved—or at least bobbed,
a little. She could tell an orgasm was in her future, and
she could do nothing to stop it!
She became aware of a motor noise somewhat deeper than the buzz
between her legs and watched as a very large flat-screen
television lowered from the ceiling and locked in place.
The screen flashed and Bonnie found herself gazing at her own
Not having had access to a mirror or having passed any
reflective surfaces since her capture/arrest by Xin-the-ninja,
this was the first time Bonnie could actually see the tape or
film covering her mouth. The stuff was translucent, nearly
transparent. Her ruby-red lips were clearly visible.
It was well-adhered to the skin of her lower face but pliant
enough for her lips to stand out in three-dimensional
contour. She already knew the stuff was more than
up to the task of keeping her lips sealed.
So... now I get to watch myself get vibrated to orgasm.
tugged on her bonds—and watched herself tug on her bonds.
Her skin still glistened from having been moisturized. It
was more of a glimmer, actually. Marina had been very
thorough while she worked the lotion into her skin.
Bonnie squirmed, shivered, and continued gazing at her squirming
and shivering real-time video image.
The vibrator continued vibrating.
By the time
Dominique decided she'd had enough "fun" with the flogger,
Jade's skin was flushed an angry pink, front and back. Her
complexion was light enough for the countless fine stripes
crisscrossing her rump, thighs, back, tummy, and breasts to be
visible, but her tormentor hadn't broken any skin or left any
serious marks, as far as she could tell. Jade glistened
with sweat, and her cheeks, flushed and bulging above the
ball-gag tightly strapped in her mouth, were wet with angry
Jade looked over her right shoulder and glared at Dominique as
she returned the flogger to its cabinet and closed the door—Bitch!—then
shifted her attention to her boss. Audrey's cheeks were
also tear-stained. Leather-bound in what had to be an
increasingly uncomfortable, nipple-clamp-enforced, cross-legged
crunch, she gazed up at Jade's spreadeagled and well-flogged
body with obvious concern.
Dominique strolled back into easy view for both captives, a
smile on her flushed, slightly glowing face. Apparently,
flogging poor Jade's naked, helpless body had given her a bit of
a workout—either that or she'd found the endeavor to be somewhat
arousing—or both. "Well," the executive bitch said
as she stepped back into her high-heeled pumps, "that was
"Mrrrrk!" both captives angrily "remarked."
"Such strength and stamina," Dominique chuckled. "I can
tell you're both going to be entertaining for a very
long time, if I pace myself." She focused on
Audrey. "And you've done a very poor job of
disguising your affection and concern for poor, innocent Miss
Porter. Really, Audrey, don't you have any poker
Audrey could only respond with a ball-gagged, glowering stare
that could have curdled fresh milk.
Dominique turned her gloating smile to Jade. "And as for
you, young lady. You have a body made for the
whip. We're going to have a lot of fun
entertaining Ms. Klein, you and I. And after I've decided
I've punished your former boss enough for her
treachery..." She stepped forward, took a firm grip on
Jade's sweaty, saliva-dripping chin with her right hand, and
they locked eyes. "You'll continue being my personal
plaything. I know you've done nothing to actually deserve
such an unpleasant fate, but whoever said life was fair?"
A chill rippled down Jade's spine and settled into a cold lump
in her stomach, but she managed to keep the fear from her
eyes... or tried her best, anyway.
"Don't worry, darling," Dominique continued, "my Special Staff
will make sure you're properly cared for. Regular
exercise, good nutrition, inescapable bondage—all the
amenities. I'm afraid I don't find the time to play with
my toys as often as I'd like to; I have a very busy
schedule. But don't worry. The various upper level
nightclubs all require 'volunteers' for their nightly stage
shows and private entertainment venues. I know you'll find
boredom to be the least of your problems." She
released her grip on Jade's chin and strolled towards the
chamber door. "Until later, Ms. Klein, Miss Porter."
The door whisked open; Dominique crossed the threshold; and the
door whisked closed. There was a brief pause... then the
overhead lights winked out, plunging the chamber into total
Jade sighed through her ball-gag and settled in to wait for
whatever would come next. Needless to say, waiting was her
only option. She was undecided as to whether she should
panic or lapse into the depths of total despair.
Physically, it wouldn't make much difference either way.
cum at least twice since being abandoned to the mechanical mercy
of the Buzzing Throne of Erotic Doom. The first orgasm
happened something like six minutes after Marina left the room,
and it had been involuntarily but "genuine," meaning it could be
characterized as something vaguely resembling pleasure.
The second happened about fifteen minutes later, and was
decidedly less... congenial. The intermittently modulated
buzzing had continued nonstop, and Bonnie's private parts had
still been sensitive from the first orgasm. The buzzing
was still continuing. Bonnie had no idea if or
when a third orgasm might happen, but one thing was certain: she
didn't want to play this game anymore!
Suddenly (finally!) the door whisked open (in its usual Star
Trekky fashion) and Dr. Folke strolled into the chamber.
The diminutive scientist or Human Resources Specialist (or whatever
the hell she'd claimed was her job title) was dressed as
before in high-heeled pumps, pencil skirt, cotton blouse, white
lab coat, and nerdy glasses. Her expression was... Bonnie
decided to go with "professional," although the quirky smile
curling her lips gave a strong hint that she really enjoyed
Bonnie, the work in question, tugged on her rubber-padded steel
wrist clamp/cuffs and made every effort to express her
displeasure and distress regarding her treatment and current
condition. "Mrrrpfh!" She watched as Folke pulled a
mini-size tablet computer from her lab coat pocket and began
tapping and gliding her way through whatever it displayed on its
"I apologize for the delay, Miss Schnupp," Folke purred.
"Administratively, it's been a very busy morning, but
don't worry." She paused to smile at Bonnie through her
glasses and placed her left hand on Bonnie's slightly flushed,
slightly sweaty right breast in what Bonnie supposed was meant
to be a reassuring manner. "With any luck," Folke
continued," we'll be able to complete the first phase of your
interview without further interruption."
The vibrator was still buzzing, so Bonnie was finding it
difficult to refrain from fidgeting in a most unladylike
manner. Also, she was not reassured.
"Mrrrf?" Folke returned to tapping the mini-tablet's
screen and two things happened: (1) The intensity of the
vibrator dropped to near zero. The thing was still buzzing
and the hum was still modulating in a semi-random pattern, but
it was now more of an irritating presence than relentless
stimulation. (2) The chair's back dropped back several
degrees and the foot region elevated... then both locked in
place. Bonnie was now more or less in the classic reclined
lounging position. Also, the footrests had folded down and
back. Her ankles were still solidly clamped in place, but
now her bare feet were unsupported and dangling in midair.
Folke returned the mini-tablet to her pocket, stepped behind the
chair, and Bonnie heard and felt something fold up, press
against the back of her head, and lock into place. The
padded steel collar clamped around her neck was already giving
her some support, but now she had a padded headrest as
well. Nothing wrong with that; however—"Nrrrf!"—the next
thing Folke did was tighten a narrow strap across her forehead,
firmly pinning and quite effectively immobilizing her
head. She heard Folke stroll away... followed by the sound
of a cabinet door opening and closing... then Folke returned to
the chair and smiled.
The diminutive doctor peeled the translucent tape from Bonnie's
lips and lower face with one swift (callous) motion—Bonnie
gasped in response—and Folke immediately slid something hard,
cold, and metallic into her mouth and squeezed a spring-loaded,
ratcheting handle. "Arrrh?" The steel monstrosity
had locked behind Bonnie's upper and lower teeth and forced her
jaws apart with relentless pressure, propping her mouth wide
open. Needless to say, Bonnie could do nothing to expel
the steel invader or close her jaws. "Ler ee oh!" she
Folke strolled away, again. There was a brief pause—while
Bonnie continued squirming, grimacing, and doing her best to
deal with the clamp-thing in her mouth—then Folke returned and
held up a bulbous object of natural rubber for Bonnie's
"Alk!" The thing in the smiling doctor's hands was
more-or-less an over-sized pacifier of natural rubber! It
had a leather strap attached, as well as a long, thin length of
clear vinyl tubing. "Mrnlflurmpf!" Bonnie complained as
Folke thrust the rubber bulb into her mouth, deftly removed the
clamping device she'd used to spread her jaws, then secured the
pacifier's strap to the back of the headrest. The rubber
bulb more-or-less filled Bonnie's entire mouth to capacity, but
she found it was somewhat pliant.
Folke wheeled over a vertical steel stand with a plastic bag
full of some sort of clear fluid dangling at the top, then
attached the end of the pacifier's vinyl tube to the bag.
"Now, I'm sure you must be at least a little thirsty,"
Folke purred, "and regular hydration is important, so why don't
you suck on this nice electrolyte solution?"
Yeah? Bonnie fumed silently. Why don't you
suck on this nice electrolyte solution?
"Mrrf." The fluid had already traveled down the tubing and
was beginning to pool in her mouth. It was surprisingly
cool and refreshing, sweet without being cloying, and if, as the
doctor said, it was full of "electrolytes," they
weren't leaving behind an unpleasant aftertaste. Bonnie
sucked and swallowed. She was a little thirsty,
and while sucking on a giant rubber nipple involuntarily crammed
in her mouth wasn't her first choice of method for slaking said
thirst, it wasn't a matter of her choice at all.
While Bonnie "enjoyed" her liquid refreshment, Folk rolled a
steel lab cart from cabinet to cabinet along the far wall,
opening doors and drawers, selecting items, and placing them on
Bonnie continued sucking on her hydrating
pacifier—"Slurp-slurp-slurp"—then her eyes popped wide when
Folke returned and she could see what was the doctor had arrayed
on the cart. Resting atop the ubiquitous jade-green cloth
Needless to say—"MRRRPFH!"
- A glass beaker holding a dozen or so large feathers,
probably primary flight feathers of geese or turkeys!
- A compact, stainless steel hand tool similar to an
electric screwdriver, as well as a small rack with a row of
attachments resembling tiny brushes, some with stiff and
some with feathery bristles!
- A row of steel medical/dental-type instruments, some with
what appeared to be single sharp, curved points, and some
shaped disturbing like scaled down animal paws with multiple
Bonnie's outburst caused her rubber-filled mouth to leak a
little electrolyte solution, but she didn't lose much. She
continued staring at the cart in alarm, but also resumed sucking
on the pacifier. "Slurp-slurp-slurp." Gravity was
continuously delivering the cool fluid, so she could only choose
whether to suck and swallow or let the stuff dribble all over
Having let Bonnie get a good look at the cart, Folke rolled it
to the foot of the chair, rolled over a padded steel stool and
sat, then smiled at her interviewee. "Now, finish slaking
your thirst, and when you're done..." Folke focused her
smile in Bonnie's pinioned, wiggling feet. "I find that an
interval of, shall we say, tactile stimulation,
puts my subjects in the proper mood for productive
dialogue. Once I believe you'll be receptive to my
questions, I'll remove your gag and we can proceed."
'Stimulation?' 'Receptive?' "Mrrrmfh!"
Bonnie tugged on her bonds and squirmed in the hard, unpadded,
steel chair. I'm receptive now! Ask your
questions! Please! Ask away!
Folke continued smiling, gravity continued delivering fluid to
Bonnie's mouth with cosmic indifference, and she had no choice
but to continue sucking on the giant pacifier.
considerable interval of increasingly uncomfortable darkness...
suddenly the door whisked open, the overhead lights blazed, and
two of the masked, cat-suited amazons entered the chamber and
made a beeline for Jade. With well-coordinated expertise
they released her wrist and ankle cuffs, caught her
limp, semi-conscious body before she collapsed to the
rubber-clad floor, and controlled her renewed
Still in a strict shrimp-tie enforced by steel clamps pinching
her nipples and linked to her crossed and bound ankles, Audrey
watched with sullen resignation (and concern) as the amazons
locked a pair of Payne Tower's ubiquitous rubber-clad cuffs on
Jade's wrists, a second pair on her ankles, then carried her
from the room. The door whisked closed... and Audrey was
Seconds passed... and turned into a minute... then two.
At least they left the lights on this time, Audrey mused,
not that there's much to see. She felt terrible
about Jade Porter getting dragged into this mess. She
hadn't planned on that happening. Audrey had already
decided to hire Jade when her internship expired in a few
months, but it would seem the bright, hardworking, ambitious
youngster was impetuous to a degree she hadn't realized, and
this time Jade had exercised initiative and poked her cute
little nose into the wrong mess. As a result, Dominique's
inherent paranoia had ratcheted up to a new level. Audrey
heaved a deep, ball-gagged sigh—which caused the nipple-clamps
to pinch tighter—and instantly resolved not to do that
Without Jade's unexpected and unauthorized involvement,
Dominique might or might not have been inclined to seriously
punish Audrey for her role in the supposed conspiracy, but
now it was all moot. Audrey would just have to buck up and
take her medicine. She had no other choice. She'd
look for an opportunity to ease Jade out of the spotlight, of
course, but at the moment how she was going to make anything
like that happen was a complete mystery.
Just then the door opened and two women entered the
chamber. More amazons? No, it was Audrey's
co-conspirators, Sorcha and Penelope Payne. To be precise,
Sorcha and Penelope were part of the actual conspiracy—the
one they all hoped Dominique knew nothing about. Penelope
hadn't been a part of the fake conspiracy, the cover
for their actual plan; but she was neck deep in the actual conspiracy.
A tangled web? Yes, but they'd all agreed that
misdirection was the only way they could make this thing work.
Their mutual goal was the ouster of Dominique as PAYNECOM
CEO—and things were rapidly coming to a head.
Sorcha wore high-heeled pumps, hose, pencil-skirt, and a blouse
with a plunging neckline, all in black, and a deep-red
double-breasted jacket. She had her longish, dark-brown
hair loose about her shoulders, and a rather ambiguous smile
curled her coral-pink lips.
Penelope's costume was much like her older sister's, only
without a jacket, and her blouse was sleeveless with
spaghetti-straps tied in a bow at the nape of her neck and a
close-fitting, corset-like bodice that hugged her slim
waist. Her angelic face was the very picture of concern.
"You poor thing!" Penelope gushed as she knelt behind Audrey,
parted her tousled hair, and reached for the ball-gag's buckle.
"You might want to release the nipple-clamps first," Sorcha
purred as, arms crossed under her breasts, she smiled down at
Audrey and her little sister.
"Oh, point taken," Penelope sighed. "Brace yourself,
Audie," she whispered in Audrey's right ear, reached around the
captive's body, and released both clamps simultaneously.
Audrey glowered up at Sorcha and did her best to hide her
reaction, but couldn't completely suppress the shudder that
rippled through her helpless form. The maxim was
depressingly true: nipple-clamps do hurt worse coming
off than they do going on, but she didn't blame Penelope.
Such things are best done quickly and without preamble.
Finally free of the clamps, Audrey heaved a gagged sigh and sat
upright. She continued glaring at Sorcha as Penelope
unbuckled her gag, eased it from her grimacing mouth, re-secured
the buckle on the strap's first hole, and let it dangle around
"Well?" Audrey demanded.
"Well what?" Sorcha chuckled.
"Don't be mean," Penelope chided her sister as she hugged
Audrey's box-tie-arm-binder and body-harness restrained form and
eased her back until she was reclined against her kneeling
body. "Just relax, Audie," Penelope whispered, kissed her
right cheek, then began gently massaging the executive
prisoner's flushed nipples.
Audrey did her best to ignore Penelope's hands (although the
massage did feel good) and continued glaring at
Sorcha. "Is everything on track? Or am I letting
myself be tortured for nothing?" Sorcha's smile turned
even more evil (or gloating, or whatever), and it didn't help
lighten Audrey's mood.
"I didn't realize you were letting yourself be
tortured," Sorcha purred. "That binder and harness look
like the real things."
"Just answer the question," Audrey huffed, then suppressed a
shiver as Penelope's nipple massage enlarged to incorporate the
periodic squeezing and kneading of both breasts.
"Yes," Sorcha chuckled. "Everything is on track. If
my darling sister—" She smiled at Penelope. "—by
which I mean my darling older sister, doesn't call a
board meeting to deal with your 'treachery' within the next two
days, I'll call one myself."
Suddenly Xin, resplendent in her black spandex catsuit uniform,
strolled into the chamber. "When next you check your
e-mail, Madam Chief Operating Officer," she addressed Sorcha,
"you'll find said meeting has been scheduled for early tomorrow
"Well," Sorcha said to Audrey, "there you go." She shifted
her smile to Xin. "Hello, Madam Security Supervisor."
Xin nodded to Penelope. "Gag. I'll step back and
reenter. It will make editing the security camera
Penelope nodded, popped the ball back in Audrey's mouth, and
tightened the buckle. "It's for the best, Audie," she
whispered in Audrey's ear, then kissed her bulging cheek.
Xin took three steps back across the threshold, paused, then
returned. "Who told you two you could play with one of
Mistress Dominique's toys?" she demanded.
"Lighten up, Xin," Sorcha answered. "I just brought my
little sister so she can see what happens to traitorous business
"Mistress would not approve," Xin huffed, then knelt and untied
the leash binding Audrey's cross ankles. She removed and
pocketed the nipple-clamps, clipped the leash to a D-ring in the
front of Audrey's arm-binder, took a firm grip, and hauled the
captive to her bare feet. She then turned and smiled at
Penelope. "You probably won't want to see what
I've been ordered to do to Ms. Klein next, Little Payne," she
Penelope blinked in alarm (or a reasonable facsimile thereof)
then climbed to her feet and scurried to her sister's side.
"C'mon, sis," Sorcha chuckled, took hold of Penelope's right
hand, and led her from the chamber.
Xin resumed smiling at Audrey, who gazed back with gagged
resignation. "This way, Ms. Klein," she said as she pulled
the leash taut and stepped off. Audrey had no choice but
As they entered the hallway Audrey watched the younger Payne
sisters disappear around a corner to the left. Xin led her
to the right, to a destination only a few doors down. The
door in question whisked open as they approached and Xin entered
the space beyond—but Audrey froze in the threshold.
She found herself staring at a "Sybian," a combination hassock
and saddle, well-padded with black leather and mounted on a
solid vertical post in the center of the otherwise empty
room. A rubber phallus and conical butt-plug projected
upwards from the padding.
"Nrrrf!" Audrey mewled through her ball-gag, shaking her head.
"Silly plaything," Xin chuckled, jerked on the leash, and
dragged Audrey into the chamber. The door whisked closed
behind her. "If you give me any trouble, I'm authorized to
add to your punishment a steel cage-bra lined with needles that
incorporates a nasty pair of vibrating,
nipple-stretching clamps. I'd just as soon not, as I'm
sure your nipples would like a chance to rest for a few hours,
but the choice is yours."
Her eyes still wide, Audrey didn't resist as Xin unbuckled the
harness-strap cleaving her labia, forced her to the Sybian, and
lifted her onto the saddle, making sure the twin invaders eased
into the appropriate openings. This evoked more mewling
complaints and shudders of discomfort on Audrey's part, as well
as renewed appreciation of Xin's strength and prisoner-handling
The saddle was well designed. It gave Audrey a stable seat
as Xin buckled wide leather cuffs with attached chains around
her ankles and then clipped the ends of the chains to rings set
in the floor. Stable, indeed, and it became even more so
when Xin clipped the end of a dangling vertical chain to a
D-ring sewn in the body-harness between her shoulder blades and
then triggered motors that took in the slack on all three
chains. Finally, she threaded the buckle and strap of the
harness' crotch-strap through a matching buckle and strap
attached to the Sybian's front and back, fastening Audrey firmly
in place indeed, to say the least.
Audrey squirmed and shivered as she tried, with limited success,
to ignore the twin intruders. She could flex her splayed
and outstretched legs, just a little, but her most energetic
struggles couldn't accurately be characterized as kicks.
Her upper body had slightly more freedom to twist and wiggle,
but she knew she wasn't going anywhere.
Xin stepped in front of Audrey's perch and smiled at her
helpless charge. "The new low-friction latex is a
marvelous invention, don't you agree? Before the recent
upgrade, I had to waste time lubricating the
'accessories.' Otherwise, there would be all sorts of
Audrey stared invisible, razor-sharp, and exotically-curved
daggers at her handler, all of which Xin deflected with the
invisible, impervious shield of being in irrefutable command of
the entire situation, especially Audrey.
"Now," Xin purred, "to get on with the obligatory gloating
lecture, both the phallus and plug vibrate, but their motors are
deliberately mismatched, causing all sorts of very interesting
harmonics as they independently vary in intensity." She
glanced at her wristwatch. "Oh, look at the time.
I'll have to cut this short."
"Mrrrpfh!" Audry complained as Xin turned and strolled to the
door. It whisked open, but she paused in the threshold.
"Five minutes on, ten minutes off, five minutes on, ten minutes
off, etc., etc.," Xin explained. "I'll see you in a few
hours, Ms. Klein."
"Nrrrm!" Audrey watched as Xin took a step into the
hallway and the door whisked closed, then heaved a sigh,
resigned to her fate. She hadn't expected Dominique to be
this vindictive when she'd agreed to her role in
Sorcha's "conspiracy." It was well known that Dominique
liked to play rough, but this was cruelty at a level beyond the
kinky, decadent opulence of the Payne Tower's penthouse
nightclubs and "spas." She suspected it might be because
Jade had inserted herself into the scenario. Dominique
hated the unexpected. Being in control of things was her
life. A lowly intern doing something as unexpected as
sneaking into the Aqua Lounge had rattled the PAYNECOM CEO.
It was silly, in Audrey's opinion. Dominique could have
and should have instructed the security staff to give Jade the
bum's rush to the "vanilla" side of the tower. Dragging
Jade into boardroom intrigue at the highest level was
unnecessary and irresponsible, one more example of why Dominique
had to go before she overreached once too often and PAYNECOM and
its associated studios (like Klein Productions) went crashing
down in flames.
Just then, three things happened: (1) most of the overhead
lights winked out, leaving only a handful of spotlights focused
on Audrey and the Sybian; (2) Panels slid up into the ceiling
exposing huge mirrors on all four walls, including the back of
the door; and (3) the phallus and plug in her vagina and anus,
respectively, began to vibrate.
Audrey winced and shivered in her bonds. Xin had told the
truth. The out-of-sync, pulsing vibrations were
unendurable, and became increasingly so as the overall level of
buzzing torment slowly built in intensity. Of course,
being bound and gagged atop the Sybian, Audrey had no choice but