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The Queen of Sorrow’s Falls
Part Eleven
The Average Work Day
By Razor7826 (Copyright 2008)
Michelle von Houten awoke just after eleven A. M. Sunlight filtered across her half-covered body and half-empty bed. She tilted her head and saw that Suri was already gone. The sheriff’s department was still short-handed, but not as badly as it was at Toby’s election. One deputy had been hired, and another was undergoing training.
She showered away the sweat from the previous night’s events, then slipped into an old pair of animal print pajama bottoms and a pink tank top. She had grown only a little since High School, but the clothes still fit well. She was in her mid-twenties by now, the prime of her health, and she felt it. She had strength, beauty, wealth, love, and a prison full of slaves to use, abuse, and destroy as she saw fit. It was heaven.
She descended the stairs in her bare feet to her kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Suri had left some warming, as usual, as well as a few extra slices of bacon in the microwave. It was a perfect morning. Good food, comfortable clothes, and blue skies in every direction. She finished the meal, and then descended another flight of stairs to her private dungeon.
Both Jodie and her mother knelt at the gates to their cells, obviously having taken their positions after hearing Michelle’s footsteps down the flight of stairs. However, the blond twenty-something lawyer stood and pounded her fist against the bars.
“Are you going to feed us or what?”
It was her insolence that had cost the trio their dinner. However, the others had known their place. After a year-and-a-half of captivity, the Klint family women had at least learned rudimentary lessons on how to address their master. Their new companion had not, and it would be the day’s first task to teach her that lesson. Michelle grabbed the catch pole and tested the trigger. It worked perfectly.
“Good morning, everybody.”
The girl and her mother responded in unison, “Good morning, Queen Michelle.”
But Mary Gates remained silent. She only stared at Michelle with her light blue eyes and face of pure contempt. Her spirit had not been broken like the other two, and Michelle honestly didn’t know if the time would ever come; each time she appeared to be defeated, she recovered, bouncing back the following day with renewed venom and spite.
“No love for your Queen, Mary?”
Mary stared directly into Michelle’s eyes, and Michelle stared back. The lawyer’s body was no longer the blemish-free beauty it was at the time of her abduction; it bore numerous scars from her unending and feckless rebellion to her new life of sexual servitude. Her wrists, ankles, and thighs were dimpled and discolored from extreme bondage left on far too long. Her areolas were discolored from unending nights of the clamps and fingernails that explored and pinched the most fair and sensitive parts of her body.
Her face, too, bore the signs of her sorrowful life. Though ten months ago she was a seductively slim twenty-something lawyer, her face betrayed the emaciation that wrecked her body. Though her prison mates were both fed as properly as fuck slaves could expect, Mary Gates had been starved countless times in revenge for slight or gross violations of Michelle’s decrees.. Still blond, still thin, still the same perfect light blue eyes, but she was battle worn and a mere glance could reveal that she was unhealthy.
But still, for all her ailments and deficiencies, she continued to rebel.
“Something, wrong, Mary?”
“I’m going to kill you, you know.”
“Oh? Is that right?”
“You can’t keep your guard up forever.”
“What makes you think you’ll be around long enough?” Michelle moved closer brandished the pole. She loosened the slack on the rope. “Come on, you dumb cunt. Time for another lesson.”
“No!” she screamed. She ran to the opposite corner of the cell, her back part against the concrete wall, the rest squeezed between two of the steel bars.
“Why do you even bother, Mary? Has this shit ever worked?” Michelle laughed and inched closer to the cell, the pole extended in front. She centered herself in front of the gate and slid the tool between the middlemost bars, just like she had done dozens of times before. After the first few tries against the Klint family and the formerly pesky deputy, subduing resistive slaves was a breeze.
First, get the bulk of the pole through the bars in a position that allows maneuverability and leverage. Then, if necessary, use it to knock them down. Once an opening presents itself, grab the slave’s neck within the rope and tighten its grip. At very least, they are restrained without any hope of escape, and at the worst, they can be strangled into submission.
Mary always required the later. The rope was around her neck and Michelle squeezed tighter and tighter. She could imagine it breaking, once and for all, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. The piece of meat would go limp long before Michelle could ever muster the strength. The slave struggled back and forth, forcing the pole to clank back and forth against the steel bars, but Michelle’s grip held. It was a simple matter of muscle mass; the slaves’ diets were far too controlled to ever allow a successful rebellion.
“Please…” whispered Mary, the rope squeezing away her last gasps.
Michelle loosened her grip. She had zoned out. Realizing the slave was down, she slid the pole through the bars, unlocked the cage, and grabbed the grip of the pole. Once in the open, there was no difficulty in managing the slave’s movements. Just as Michelle had learned in high school, fear of strangulation and suffocation was enough to get a person to do virtually anything. She led Mary to the center of the prison.
“Raise your arms into the shackles and lock them.”
Mary hesitated, then raised her hands above her head and locked them into place in turn. Without being asked, she shook her wrists to show they were tightly bound.
“Good work, Mary. Now, we have a lot to discuss today.” She slackened the rope and removed it from Mary’s neck.
“Such as?”
“What we are going to do with you.”
“Let me go.”
Michelle laughed, first softly, then loud and maniacal. She walked to Mary’s rear and reached around to grab her tits. “Let you go? Now that isn’t an option. You just have such a wonderful body that there’s absolutely no way I’m going to leave you to your own whims.” She leaned her head against Mary’s shoulder. “Stupid, rebellious women like yourself have no place in this world other than as meat slaves. No, the question is not whether I should set you free, but whether I should keep you all to myself, and in what capacity.” Michelle slid her right hand down Mary’s smooth chest to her shaven pussy and slipped her middle finger inside the closed slit.
Mary shivered in a response Michelle had seen hundreds of times before in her slaves. Sensual touches always brought back memories, and for those that had been victimized endlessly, those memories would undoubtedly be painful. She wondered what Mary was remembering: was it the night she was tied up out in the cold as a dildo buzzed away her cunt? Of the entire week she was used as the cum dumpster for all the men in their BDSM club? Or the dehumanizing walks through the woods on all fours?
Michelle pushed her finger in deeper. “I could sell you, you know. Your new owners would probably be far crueler than I am; you’ve never been to the convention. You’ve never seen the unending streams of modified and enhanced women. I’m perfectly happy with what you have now,” said Michelle as she squeezed Mary’s left tit for emphasis, “there are plenty of owners that would see you as a fixer-upper. Bigger tits, wider ass, fatter lips, hell, I’ve even seen some artificial racial hybrids. Did you ever wonder what it would feel like to be an Asian woman?” Michelle could feel Mary’s skin turn cold in terror. Never before had Michelle been so blunt with the options for her slave’s futures, but so far she adored the response.
“That doesn’t even begin to describe the horrors that the flesh can undergo once an owner has them fixed to their liking. You may think Julie and Jodie are as broken as a human soul can get, but you’d be dead wrong. No, they can still think. They do as I ask. They answer my questions. They show signs of dislike for what I do to them, but they both know better than to defy me. That is what keeps them compliant. But these other women, they are dead on the inside. Pieces of meat that have had every last vestige of humanity and free thought tortured and raped out of them. And you know what? I think it’s hot. I’ve never told any of my slaves this before, and I want all of you to listen; that includes you, Jodie, and Julia.
“I was a sex slave once. I was abducted by family friends after my parents died and kept locked in a room, raped endlessly by a sadist and paraplegic. It was all about power and money, just as it is now. But, knowing the living hell that it is to be a slave changed me. I know how terrible my actions against you are, but that is what makes it so erotic. The only way I can live in heaven is by forcing hell unto others.”
“But, no, this erotic torture chamber isn’t nearly the worst you can suffer. Not all flesh is worth its weight. Hundreds of women get bought at the convention by packers. Nobody knows exactly what they use these women for, but there are rumors.” She traced shapes on Mary’s belly with her nails. “Parts. Even the most worthless of human beings have parts that are useful. How much do you think you’re worth, Mary?”
The slave remained silent. Her lower lip quivered.
“So, I ask you, Mary Gates, what do you want me to do?”
Mary turned her head away, tears forming in her eyes.
“Jodie, Julia. I have a question to ask you, too, and I want you to answer openly. I won’t punish you for speaking your true minds.”
The women barely blinked, as if taking Michelle at her word instantly.
“This woman… this filthy piece of trash has defied me at every turn, and her defiance has led to punishments upon all three of you. Do you resent her for her sins?”
Jodie responded “Yup,” while her mother answered, “Yes,” both answers followed with Michelle’s title.
“Do you want revenge against her?”
Both responded ‘yes’ without hesitation, their voices seemingly fueled by true hatred. Michelle paused to ponder their wishes before determining a solution. She turned her attention back towards Mary Gate, who still dangled from the ceiling by her wrists, and began Mary’s transformation
When all was done, Mary Gates was curled and bound into a fetal position. Her arms and legs lacked any freedom, but her mouth, ass, and cunt were all neatly exposed. Her skin was bare except for the small patches of bondage; she would be in that position for a long time, and any unnecessary bindings could result in complications. She mumbled something incoherently, but Michelle did not care to interpret the worthless noises.
Michelle slipped four fingers beneath the collar and pulled. She opened the cell in the far corner where the two rows of cells intersected and dragged Mary inside. In turn, she let out Jodie and Julie into the same cell and locked it shut. It still had the guest bedroom mattress and linings that were used during Julie’s accidental pregnancy.
The Queen of Sorrow’s Falls leaned against the bars and gazed upon her three subjects before making her decree. “Rape her. Ravish her. Destroy her. Leave her body alive but destroy her soul, for there is nothing any of us can do while she survives as she is. As long as you do your job, you will be rewarded. Her misery, her hell, will be your heaven.”
Michelle returned to the supply chest near the stairs and pulled handfuls of random toys. Everything that looked like it could be used would be used. “Here you go,” she said as she dumped the toys just inside the prison cage that all three now shared.
Jodie and Julia both took minutes to stare at their newfound feast. Michelle watched, then prompted them with a simple warning. “Remember this; your survival depends on your ferocity. Rape her or starve to death.”
The final ultimatum set the pieces into motion, much to Michelle’s surprise. Both slaves went directly for the strap-on dildos that had been used against them hundreds of times and slid them on like panties. And then, their assault began.
While Julia attacked her prey with a slow, meticulous approach, Michelle was completely shocked by Jodie’s aggression. She pounced on the lawyer without hesitation and reamed all three of her holes in turn, with a wild malice that Michelle had never before seen in the short woman of only twenty years old. She pulled out and jammed in to the extremes, to ensure that Mary felt ever bump of the ridged dildos, and the maximum pain as their flesh slapped together.
As the hours passed, and long after Julia had collapsed in exhaustion, Jodie’s normal expression of stunned submission faded into one of pure glee. Though there was little physical pleasure to derive from using a strap-on, Michelle had never seen Jodie to be so happy. Perhaps it was a result from her only sexual experiences being Michelle’s sadism, or perhaps she always had it. Regardless, there was something there. Something that kept Michelle captivated for hours as she fingered herself to Mary’s destruction. Jodie had it, a pure-blooded malice befitting of a true bondage mistress. There were big things in the girl’s future.
(“The Bus to Slavery”, in which Michelle debuted, takes place between this chapter and the next The following Chapter of this story will resume after those events.)