Flashbacks

Flashbacks

"Here you go, safe at last: those awful people can't touch you here!" assured the good-looking brunette policewoman as her charge explored her new home. She kicked herself mentally as she saw the stunning blonde's gaze locked firmly on the handcuffs on her belt - standard police equipment, of course, but nothing but a liability on this very strange assignment: baby-sitting the former slave as she adjusted to life as a free woman again, keeping her safe until the trial.

Jenny quickly adjusted her jacket to cover the offending item, worried that Lisa might be upset by the sight bringing back memories of her suffering. Her briefings had only touched on the nature of Lisa's lengthy ordeal as a star attraction in some sort of BDSM brothel, where wealthy sadists had apparently paid top dollar for the use of slaves they could abuse freely, but the grapevine connecting law enforcement officers had gone into overdrive with this case: hardly a conversation took place in the station which didn't feature talk of whippings or barbed wire.

Had she been blessed with the ability to read minds, she would have been shocked by the thoughts going through Lisa's mind at that moment. They were flashbacks to her experiences, that much was true - but far from the brutal tortures on which the uniformed gossips focussed, they had taken Lisa's mind back to an early session in which only her pride suffered. Having captured the stunning but naive blonde, her captors subjected her to an intensive program of tests with harsh punishments and equally intense rewards. Seeing those solid-looking steel police handcuffs brought back memories of a long session on a Sybian, naked but for a blindfold, hands cuffed behind her back, pushed to one orgasm after another - all in front of an audience she could hear laughing and commenting on the show she was giving them, yet see nothing. At the time, she had found the experience humiliating, yet after all she had been through after that, all she could remember were the orgasms: after enduring so much worse, the shame seemed trivial.

Her captors had neither known nor cared about Lisa's existing kinky streak, and of course even her wildest fantasies didn't come close to the ordeals they had inflicted, yet during her initial interviews with the police her arousal had become overwhelming. Fortunately, her interviewers had misinterpreted the reason for her distraction, giving her frequent bathroom breaks which she spent biting on her soaking panties to stifle the moans as she fingered herself, reliving humiliating and brutal scenes in her mind.

The cuffs out of sight, Jenny showed Lisa the rest of the luxury apartment she would be calling home for the coming months: closets with a variety of outfits in her size, from skimpy swimsuits to full-length dresses, no expense was being spared in the effort to bring down the resourceful slave ring. Jenny would be living in the room next door in the suite - seconds away in case anything happened, but just distant enough to give Lisa the privacy she was expected to need as she recovered.

A passing mention of the other facilities - phone, computer with Internet access, the shared swimming pool below - and the tour concluded in the kitchen, where Jenny made coffee for them both.

Sitting to drink the coffee, Lisa had to make a conscious effort to remind herself she was once again permitted to sit with her legs closed. The baggy pair of jeans she'd been given afforded her more modesty than anything she had worn in her year-long ordeal other than the horrendous "punishment suit", but she felt sure the ample closets would contain something that felt good.

Jenny quickly ran through the 'ground rules' - essentially, any time Lisa wanted to leave the flat, she had to take Jenny with her just in case. The ringleaders might be behind bars awaiting trial, but the authorities were under no illusions about the extent of their reach, behind bars or not: even in a government-owned hotel used to house visiting dignitaries and witnesses or jurors involved in high-profile trials, they were worried that she might not be entirely safe.

It would be months before the case reached trial, but the authorities needed Lisa prepared to testify properly. Jenny's task was to keep Lisa physically safe, as well as do whatever she could to help Lisa adjust mentally.

*

Later that evening, after sharing a pizza and two bottles of wine, Jenny cautiously nudged the conversation towards the reason they were together. Her tongue loosened by the alcohol, Lisa started giving her new companion an overview of her life: brutal punishments for the slightest infraction of the arbitrary rules, or just for the amusement of those inflicting them, near-constant sexual use and abuse by a never-ending string of sadists both male and female - and more intense orgasms than she had ever imagined.

As that last bit slipped out, Lisa blushed furiously and put her hand to her mouth as if to stop any more revelations. Jenny, shocked, looked her straight in the eye with both eyebrows raised.

After a moment, she said speculatively "well, I guess they would have all kinds of high-end sex toys, not just all that kinky pain stuff?" With a little more prompting, Jenny managed to coax out of Lisa that before her ordeal, the blonde had loved bondage and pain - not to the extremes inflicted on her in captivity of course, but for several years before her capture Lisa had been unable to enjoy her vibrator without at least having her nipples clamped as well. The psychologist briefing Jenny beforehand had anticipated this, explaining it to her as an 'endorphin addiction': the body becoming physically dependant on the natural endorphins produced in response to both physical exertion and pain, though of course the police briefing hadn't included the pre-existing nature of the condition.

A few minutes and a further refill of wine saw the pair hunched over by the laptop. Jenny had almost immediately brought up a website offering a vast range of very expensive 'adult' products of almost every kind - many of them identical to those Lisa knew all too well.

Their inhibitions dissolved in alcohol, the two embarked on an extravagant shopping spree. At the third attempt, Jenny's credit card took the hit, moments before they both slumped back on the sofa for the night.

*

The bright glare of the mid-morning sun dragged both girls back to life, nursing splitting headaches and ruing what they could remember of their drinking. With the vicious hangovers, the day passed uneventfully and an early night was quickly agreed. A collection of photographs came through from the prosecutor's office for Lisa to study and document for evidentiary purposes, but with no urgency attached, they lay forgotten on the side table all day.

The second day started with a similarly rude awakening, both occupants rushing to the front door to answer the persistent ringing and knocking on the front door. A tall, well-endowed female courier stood, studying them both through her shiny tinted visor as they struggled to drag the crate of online purchases through the front door. Once it was far enough inside to close the door again, she held out the usual delivery note for Jenny to sign before strutting off on heels which must have been at least four inches, well-suited to the figure-hugging leather suit. Unusual footwear for a courier, Lisa thought, but then most of them are male, she thought - and perhaps they're products of this adult company, worn for promotional purposes?

The unusual attire had distracted Lisa from a more suspicious detail, though: when they both opened the front door together, how had the courier known which of them was the purchaser? Before that could cross her mind, though, Jenny grabbed her, furious, and berated her for opening the door without checking who was there. Suitably chastened, Lisa meekly helped her friend and protector to move the crate into her bedroom to unpack.

The courier was not to get off so lightly for her slip, though. Already kicking herself mentally for almost exposing herself, the instant she was concealed in the cargo area of the parcel delivery truck she had arrived in, she rushed to strip off the tight leather catsuit and strap herself into the seat.

Any bystander would have been shocked by what the catsuit had concealed, though Lisa would have found it all too familiar. The feminine mounds Lisa had innocently admired were throbbing purple globes, engorged by cruelly tight leather straps around their bases, while the tinted crash helmet and neck protector had concealed a large ballgag and strict posture collar.

Without a second's hesitation, though, the blonde rushed to make her own predicament much worse. Squatting down, she clipped the heavy chains which dangled from her labial piercings onto the ankle cuffs she already wore, ensuring that any attempt to straighten up again would be extremely painful for her. A thin elastic cord already linked a very large, heavy clitoris ring to rings through the base of each nipple, the cord short enough to exert a painful constant pull, greatly increased when she snapped a clover clamp into place on each engorged nub and hooked the chain between the clamps onto her gag.

Despite the pain bringing tears to her soft blue eyes, the girl still wasn't finished, quickly backing herself onto a large butt plug mounted on the wall. As soon as the plug was forced home, she locked her hands into the waiting cuffs on either side of her, triggering a hiss of compressed air as the plug grew to proportions which made her whimper and tug uselessly at her bonds.

A moment later, a commanding voice came from an unseen woman.

"Slave K, you confirmed slave L was present, without doing anything to arouse suspicion?"

After a moment, slave K nodded as vigorously as the posture collar allowed, jerking painfully on her clamped nipples.

"Lie. You will punish yourself when we get home."

Too late, the now-terrified slavegirl noticed the tiny mark on the crash helmet she had worn - clearly a concealed camera with which her Mistress had observed her every move, including the momentary lapse which could have exposed her had Lisa - slave L to her former captors - been more alert. Tears ran freely down her face now, as the parcel truck hit a bump in the road which was transmitted directly through the enormous plug to her guts, while her painfully swollen mammaries bounced and jerked against the clamps and piercings.

*

Ironically, the escaped slave in question was voluntarily slipping on a much less extreme version of the same outfit: a heavy one-piece swimsuit with a built in plug, which Lisa had thoroughly lubricated for herself as she explained the outfit's features to Jenny. Instead of the cruelly tight leather straps digging into the bases of poor slave K's breasts, Lisa's protruded through reinforced rubber rings - shaping and enhancing them, but not painfully.

As Lisa explained, this was the most comfortable uniform slaves were allowed to wear, a rare treat for the most obedient. Even this version was normally worn in a more painful configuration, she noted, as she pointed out where various clamps and straps would be added.

Unable to resist her curiosity any longer, Jenny had stripped off as well and began to ease herself into the harsher leather version, marvelling as she did at the array of leather straps in every conceivable place, many of them lined with sharp spikes.

Lisa tightened the straps on Jenny's breasts and crotch just enough to be uncomfortable, to give her a small taste of what Lisa had suffered for so long. Seeing her new friend wince, she pointed out that when each slave was fitted with this uniform, each strap would be marked with a notch indicating the minimum tightness they were required to wear; Lisa, with a very similar figure, had initially been made to wear hers six notches tighter than Jenny, eventually having to endure an eye-watering tightness nine notches worse.

Jenny looked surprised, and asked Lisa about the word 'required' - the slaves had to tighten their own straps like that?

Lisa nodded, and explained Rule Six: "The slave will not attempt to conceal wrong doing, or escape or reduce punishment or suffering."

"So, if you got caught having set your straps too loose, you'd be punished?"

"Worse ... you'd have to report it yourself straight away, then administer punishment yourself. Rule 4: 'The slave must report any failure or infraction immediately, then punish itself properly.'"

Jenny nodded slowly, as if taking it in, hoping Lisa wasn't aware of how aroused she was becoming. With a little prompting, she persuaded Lisa to write down all twelve of the rules for her later. First, though, Lisa insisted on adding some of the extras to their suits.

A vibrator on low seemed an obvious addition to Lisa's, given her earlier explanation of this suit as being used as a reward for well-behaved slaves.  Jenny reached for one to use herself, but was surprised when Lisa playfully slapped her hand away, but couldn't argue with her logic that her chosen uniform required the clamps and weights Lisa handed her, not a pleasure device!

In jest, she suggested that perhaps her cheeky attempt might merit punishment - not expecting Lisa to agree, and tell her that for violating rule 5 (by seeking her own pleasure) she would have to tighten her straps by one notch in accordance with rule 4 (to report immediately and properly punish herself for every infraction).

Before she could stop herself, Jenny asked if failing to report it meant she had violated rule 4 as well. Lisa giggled before nodding eagerly before raising her middle and index fingers together, signalling the number two.

Despite herself, Jenny was very turned on by now, even as she struggled to pull the cruel spiked straps two notches tighter as 'ordered'. Lisa sat back on the sofa, smiling as she watched the spectacle.

Having attached one pair of clamps to her nipples and another to her labia, joined to her ankles by short chains just like poor slave K, Jenny shuffled gingerly over to sit beside Lisa as she typed out the full list of rules.

After a few minutes of typing, Lisa noticed Jenny reaching up to rub her sensitive clamped breasts to relieve the discomfort. Slapping the offending hand away, she pointed to rule 6 - no trying to reduce punishment or suffering - and clipped Jenny's hands behind her, leaving her unable to protect or massage her pained mounds.

Jenny pouted comically but stayed quiet for another minute as Lisa completed her typing, then turned to her and said "So tomorrow, YOU wear this lot and I get the vibrator, right?"

Lisa glared at her, jerked the nipple chain painfully and tapped the screen where Rule Eleven - 'The slave will remain silent unless instructed to or if a proper response requires speech' appeared, before her feigned serious expression dissolved into giggles at Jenny's worried reaction.

"OK, but I'm not wearing any of the punishment bits!"

Jenny blinked in mute surprise at that: without having experienced the brutal regime Lisa had lived and suffered under, she had assumed the clamps and straps digging into her flesh now were the punishment elements. Seeing her expression, Lisa began to explain how the sadists who held her had set their punishment system up. Failing to confess immediately was considered a transgression in itself, so keeping quiet about even the smallest slip was a big gamble. Having confessed, the unlucky slave would then have to punish herself - literally a painful dilemma: too lenient, and be told it doesn't count so she would have to start again and be harsher still.

*

Across town, poor slave K knew this all too well. The cuffs pinning her arms to the side of the truck had unlocked a few minutes earlier, but she remained impaled on the colossal anal intruder; being as experienced as she was, the girl knew not to make the mistake Lisa had teased Jenny about earlier. Even something as simple as rubbing her poor aching mounds would be a painful mistake: the first - and, so far, last - time she did that, a few days after her capture, she had to rub Icy Hot into them to make amends. That wasn't enough to satisfy the Mistress who watched, so she spent a painful night with thoroughly caned breasts crushed between two studded metal plates. In the morning, asking if the plates could come off yet taught her about the rule against trying to escape or reduce suffering, as well as the rule against speaking unprompted: a full day with a large ballgag strapped tightly in place, while the plates were tightened even further.

The plug suddenly deflated with a hiss, catching slave K by surprise. With a struggle, she managed to pull free with an audible 'plop' - though not quickly enough to avoid a vicious electric shock from the plug to propel her on her way.

Every step jerked painfully between her legs and on her clamped nipples, even keeping her head bowed as far as the posture collar permitted in order to reduce the pull on the clover clamps. Though she appeared to be suffering alone on her journey, every slave learned early in their captivity that privacy and secrets were a mere illusion: a second's delay might not go unnoticed, and rather than risk being caught she would have to confess that too.

Rushing along the corridor in a pained squatting position, head bowed and full of thoughts of how she would have to torture herself, the poor slave failed to notice until it was too late that she wasn't alone. She crashed straight into a hooded slave coming the other way, catching her nipple chains on the other girl's. Panicking, the other girl tried to back away, pulling hard on both clamps as she begged for mercy, her hands bound behind her in a cruel reverse prayer position to render her helpless.

The hood had no opening for eyes, so the unlucky slave girl couldn't see what had happened, while slave K's ballgag prevented anything more than her whimpers of pain escaping,  but at least she had her hands free. Gripping the other girl's shoulders to stop her pulling any more, she tried to calm the poor new 'recruit' down while she separated the tangled chains. The hooded girl whined in pain as slave K took one clamp off and the circulation returned bringing fresh agony.

It was at this point that an Overseer strode confidently round the corner and saw the pair. Both girl's hearts sank as the high heels boots clicked on the floor, carrying the tall, latex-clad redhead toward them. Her blue latex hood concealed her true expression, but slave K was certain the sadist would be smirking at the opportunity to make the pair suffer for her pleasure.

*

"So, these Overseers were your captors, the ones responsible for it all?" Jenny asked as she massaged the feeling back into each part of her body in turn now the clamps and straps were off.

"No, they were slaves too - but senior ones, more trusted and with more freedom than any of us. We never saw their faces, or indeed each other's - we were nearly always forced to wear horrible, tight, sweaty latex hoods, to stop us making friends with other slaves I guess. If we were being 'used' by Guests , we'd be blindfolded as well; once or twice a month, I'd be used as a serving tray for drinks parties."

Lisa paused at that point, remembering the ordeals vividly with a shudder Jenny noticed, before describing shuffling around on ballet heels, arms bound up behind her shoulder blades. Blindfolded, with every hole including her ears plugged to its limits, she would struggle around the room guided only by the gentle or not so gentle tugs on her nipples transmitted from the drinks tray they supported.

"I guess dropping the tray would be a bad move, huh?" Jenny observed, still rubbing where the clamps had been but for other reasons now, as she enjoyed Lisa's description more than you might expect in the circumstances.

"The worst time wasn't dropping the tray, though ... One time, I had to rush on duty for a party without having a chance to use the bathroom. I tried so hard, but of course with the tight corset and the noise of the fountain, I just couldn't hold out all night..."

The blonde tailed off, flushing with embarrassment as she remembered standing in a crowded room, nipples clamped, arms behind her as urine trickled down her legs. She couldn't see or hear a thing, but could somehow still feel every eye in the room turning to stare at her as her faced burned scarlet under the hood.

Two weeks later, the next party saw her even more humiliated and exposed, something she would have sworn impossible. The previous night, she had been fitted with a catheter, sealed shut with wax to ensure she couldn't tamper with it. In the morning, she had been made to drink an entire jug of water, but still not permitted to empty her already swollen bladder. By the start of the party, it was agony even the cruelly tortured slave girls rarely felt as she hopped from one ballet-booted foot to the other, whining incoherently through the ring gag forced into her mouth a few minutes earlier.

To keep Lisa quiet while the guests were told about her ordeal, the Mistress in charge rammed a dildo deep into her throat. An elastic cord from her pierced clitoris between her legs and up to a hook in her nose, forcing her head rigidly back and letting the dildo sink a little deeper while the cord cut into her sensitive flesh, the new cutting pain finally stopping her moving her feet for the moment.

Jenny's fingers froze in place between her legs as she listened intently now, straining to imagine every detail of the scene Lisa described.

Using every ounce of willpower she had, Lisa had managed to avoid gagging on the dildo, motivated by the sadistic Mistress's whispered promise that if it came out of her mouth she would be wearing it for the next week. As she finished describing the ordeal to the audience,  she punctuated the end of the tale with a sharp blow to Lisa's tender abdomen, sending a shockwave of pain through the overfull bladder. Unable to stop herself, Lisa doubled over in agony, jerking her head forward and making the cord slice brutally into her tender sex as she screamed through the ring gag.

Somehow, though, she managed to stop the dildo slipping just in time. Unable to bite down because of the gag, she slurped and sucked desperately and tipped her head back. Even the brutal sadist in charge of her ordeal was impressed as her pain-wracked managed to slurp the ersatz phallus back into her throat, giving the audience a very memorable scene as an unexpected bonus.

The main act was yet to come, though. With a theatrical flourish, Lisa was shown a hose which went into the dildo. By slurping and sucking noisily thanks to the gag, she could drink from the hose.  The pain in her bladder made her desperate enough to suck without a second of thought - slurping away so desperately that a full minute passed before two things hit her at once. First, the taste - not the bitter warm urine she expected, but no taste or warmth at all - and second, the pressure on her bladder hadn't reduced at all.

Even through the earplugs, she caught a hint of the raucous laughter that erupted as the latex-clad tormentor held the half-empty jug of water up for her to see. Only those with a heart of stone could fail to be moved by the despairing wail Lisa let out when she worked out how she had been tricked - but, of course, who else would pay to see girls tortured like this?

A minute later, relief was finally granted. Until then, even as she underwent the other brutal torments the captive blonde had never imagined being grateful to be allowed to drink her own urine in front of an audience, but as soon as she had the chance, she gulped for all she was worth. After the cruel trick with the jug, even the warmth and bitter taste were welcome, heralding the release of pressure from her aching bladder at last.

As with any pleasure or relief granted to the helpless victims held there, though, this was to be short-lived: within minutes of finally draining her tortured bladder through the catheter her kidneys were hard at work refilling it for another cycle.

By the end of the evening, poor Lisa was struggling to keep slurping away at the dildo fast enough to stop her bladder refilling when the Mistress in charge suddenly clamped off the flow again. She knew enough to be suspicious when the nose hook and dildo were removed, but couldn't work out what nasty fate that meant.

"I bet you're looking forward to getting that catheter out and being able to pee properly again, aren't you slave?"

Lisa nodded vigorously at that, too intent on that happy thought to see a downside.

"Well, I'm afraid we took a vote on that, and the audience decided not to let it come out tonight ... However, we couldn't decide whether to leave that bladder full of that nice refreshing treat you were obviously enjoying drinking so much, or let you empty it first. What do you think?"

Lisa couldn't figure out the catch here, but with her bladder already filling, neither could she resist the temptation.

Her choice made, the Mistress forced a bright red ball gag into place in her mouth before letting the catheter drain into the water jug poor Lisa had been tricked into drinking earlier. The captive blonde gave a shocked yelp into the gag as the flow was cut off suddenly when the jug was nearly full - then, as she saw what her tormentor was doing with the catheter, the yelp turned to a full-fletched shriek of terror.

TO BE CONTINUED...