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Part 4
Life was good for awhile. David was reluctant for a couple days but once he was acquainted with the idea that I enjoyed the activities as much as he did, he was better, willing . . . eager even. Of course, it couldn’t stay that way. I took classes and read voraciously to keep myself occupied but my mind always trailed back to my origin and the brothers and sisters whose lives must still be living horrors. It weighed on my soul that I was saved from our fate and they were still enthralled.
“We have to do something!” I raked my hands through my hair. I’d had another dream while I dozed waiting for him to come home. I was soaked in cold sweat but the dream hadn’t been about me, it was about the others. All the test tube brothers and sisters that had been bought by other people.
“There is nothing to do, love,” he explained to me again. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation.
“They are people, David! Real people with . . .” I trailed off. I didn’t know of anything they had that could follow that statement.
“With no papers, no family, no cognitive ability. Christ, even if we could find them and free them, they’d never be more than robots. They’re like domestic animals, we’ve bred big cats and wolves into such genetic submission that they can’t survive without us. Saving you was a mercy, saving them would be cruel.” he argued.
“They’re people!” I repeated stubbornly.
“They’re not.” he disagreed sadly, “And even if they were, there’s no way to find them and trust me when I say that even if we could we do not want to mess with the type of individuals who are buying them.” I made to argue again but he silenced me with his lips against mine and carried me back to bed.
I just couldn’t live with the guilt so I did something stupid. I disobeyed my Master. Now, technically, he didn’t forbid me, he just would have if he knew what I was up to. While he was on one of his endless shift rotations, I skipped a few days of classes and began an investigation. I remembered from that day one man, and a couple bodyguards, buying eight girls. As that was more than half our number, it stood out in my memory and surely, a private owner wouldn’t need eight. So, either he was reselling or they were public entertainment. Going on the impression that a BDSM club would be easier to find than an illegal slave auction; I googled it. Genius I may be but nothing beats google for finding shit.
I hit paydirt on the third site I clicked on. The fine cursive header read CHROME: Your first class destination for alternative company and performances. Under that was an update. Chrome welcomes the silicone sisters; eight beautifully natural women with no other thought but their Master’s pleasure be it at the end of his dick or the end of his whip.
It was too obvious to be a coincidence. I looked around guiltily, as if expecting my Master to come and catch me but he wouldn’t be back until nearly dawn, and it wasn’t even ten. I felt sure I could make it back by then. I would go, perform a touch of reconnaissance and be back before he could tell me off for the horrible risk. Before I could talk myself out of it, I was in my room changing into something appropriate for a BDSM club. I paused at a rubber catsuit and corset thinking to play domme and maybe be a little safer from detection but on second thought, I’d never be able to pull it off. Instead, I pulled on black lacy bra and panties and slipped into a nearly translucent little black dress. I already wore my Master’s collar and around my hips went a gold chain link belt with a buckle that resembled a lock and off I went without even the time to talk myself out of the foolish endeavor.
Four illegal U-turns, two run lights and one near miss with a cop later I was hyperventilating outside a plain brick storefront whose windows had long been bricked over. It was set back on an old road off the beaten path and it’s simple silvered script sign read Chrome. Before I could turn around again, I got out of the car, leaving it unlocked with my purse and keys under the seat, and marched in. Inside, was an entrance hall, plain and short with black velvet draping the walls to dull the sounds transmitted and delicate looking chains looped periodically. To the right was a coatroom, that looked to be nearly full, it was late in spring, usually no need for a coat at all, except if one needed to cover risqué clothing. To the left was a black velvet draped podium with a submissively decked greeter.
“How can Club Chrome service you this evening?” she purred seductively. She was well trained and the way her eyes raked my told me she preferred women and wasn’t all that submissive.
“I want to see my sisters.” the words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. LuDuis might have made me a genius, but genius and common sense do not go hand in hand. She blinked, confused but gathered herself quickly.
“Who are your sisters? Do they work here or are they visiting?” she asked gently perhaps afraid I would begin squawking or speaking with imaginary foes at any moment.
“The silicone sisters, they are my foster sisters, I would like to see them before they perform.” I explained reasonably. She raised a perfectly formed eyebrow at me that said plainly she knew exactly where the silicone sisters came from and who I was and I realized that I was in way over my head.
“Let me get the manager and see if we can’t arrange a reunion.” she smiled frostily. The greeter glanced stonily over my shoulder and I took a deep breath when I saw a huge man settle visibly in front of the only door out. The greeter strolled into a hidden door behind her podium and a flee urge set into my bones. I strolled to the bouncer in front of the door and smiled winningly.
“I’m sorry to bother, I just need to get my compact out of my car.” He didn’t even look at me. I reached for the handle but his hand closed over my wrist in a vice grip and he tossed it back forcing me to back a few steps from sheer momentum. My breath came quick in panic. I was trapped. I shook my way back to the podium and waited, my fate sealed. The greeter came back through the door and behind her was the man I recognized as the one who had made the purchases. His eyebrow rose when he saw me, and a slow smile crossed his handsome face making it sinister and predatory.
“Good day to you, girl, I wondered which of the sister’s sisters was here, I must say I am surprised to see you. Since you are so eager to see your sisters, I have no objection,” he raised a negligent hand and all eight slaves came forward. They all wore strict bondage maid outfits. A tight black and white corset with a little froth off the shoulders and a tiny puffed skirt. The corset held the breasts high and opened to a tray on the front where the mounds rested leaving plenty of room for other things, the collection of which currently adorned was enough to make me faint. All of them wore two sided penis gags, all of which were a good six to eight inches protruding, probably not as much in their mouths. Most of them had their hands bound tightly crossed and secured behind their backs but two had loose, albeit chained, hands. The heels on their feet were over five inches and enough to make me wince looking at them but really none of that even compared to the collection of items on the trays.
On the tray of the bound woman nearest was a single knife of frightening length and a keen edge. One of the unbound women picked up the knife and approached me and I backed away right into the bouncer who had come up behind me to hold me still. I begged and pleaded calling on kinship and mercy but I might as well have been talking to the wall. Without preamble the girl sliced my clothes and the other girl with her hands free removed the shreds from my body. They were piled onto the tray with my shoes and the knife and that girl walked out. The next came forward and on her tray was a gag and a strap and what looked like a pump. Despite my best efforts the gag was forced in my mouth by one girl and the other pumped until the extension was so large and solid in my mouth there was no way to remove it. The strap came away and still the extension was left inside. I whimpered and cried but no one cared. The pump and strap were returned to the tray and she left. The next girl came forward staggering under the weight of dozens of cuffs of different shapes and sizes. All of them had four or more attachment points and better suited to a medieval dungeon than a bondage club. The first went about my waist and was about half a size too small. The next went around each of my thighs, then my knees then my ankles, elbows, wrists and neck.
I thought then they must be done, where else could they put them? The next two went around the base of my breasts and tightened themselves until my fair sized mounds plumped and filled with blood to resemble purple light bulbs. Unburdened, the girl left and the next came forward. On her tray were two long bars and several connecting rings. Two connecting rings held my elbows together behind my back and another my wrists that thrust my aching swelling breasts right into the girl’s face. The longer bar was attached to my ankles forcing them a foot wider than shoulder length, the next was attached to my knees forcing me to stand in an agonizing squat and thrust forward my sex. Another ring attached my breasts together. As if summoned, another girl came forward before that one left. On her tray were two dildos, both metal and fairly large and nubbed for pain as opposed to pleasure. I was glad my pussy was wet from terror as she shoved that first one to without preamble. It was horrendous and felt as if it would split me. The next one was smaller and thinner but still a daunting prospect with the one already killing me. Helpless to stop them I took care to relax my ass as she approached and the going was doable, if not pleasant. The girl left then and another came forward with yards of chains. She attached one end to the front of my collar and attached my bound breasts to it, then draped it lower so it fell through, but didn’t attach to the cinch at my waist. It went through holes in the bottom of the dildos obviously designed for just that then back up, through another hole in the back of my belt, under my bound arms and through a hole in the back of the collar. Finally, the chain was left with a long tail in back of me which served as a leash, or so I thought. They forced me forward, both girls and bouncer to a room that was completely dark. They hauled me up the stairs and jerked me forward by the chain until it suited them. Then the chain dropped against my back and I heard a click. Some motor started moving and the chain began to recede from hanging down. Then it became taut then it forced me onto my toes, most of my weight rested on my crotch, crouched and shackled as I was, there wasn’t much strength in my legs to hold me on my toes.
In front of me, deep velvet curtains parted, throwing dancing colors and lights onto me. Finally, all of them settled and several white spotlights illuminated my heavily bound form.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Doms and Subs, tonight’s performance by the Silicone Sisters has been canceled. This evening we find ourselves with a new and exciting opportunity. A slave has come to Club Chrome after running away from her Master in order to stir rebellion amongst our slaves. This is forbidden of course and our loyal slaves were unmoved. Instead, the instigator was captured and her Master has given us full reign on her punishment. Furthermore, he claims she stole money from his coffers to aid her escape and mutiny and we are to find out where the treacherous slut has hid it. Join us if you will to see this poisonous bitch get her due. Twenty for voyeurs, fifty for participants and a round hundred for penetration; for now, watch her writhe in the strictest bondage she has ever known until midnight when her punishment begins. The winch started up again and my toes we no longer brushing the ground. I was drawn a full two feet in the air and left swinging over the stage by the chain that split me up the crotch forcing the dildos in deeper and pulling mercilessly on my breasts. I writhed in agony and there was a cheer from the crowd. My face must have been drenched by rivers of tears but no one seemed to notice or care.
I hung there for an eternity, gently swaying as the people below lined up for tickets to my degradation. All I could think of was how I got here.
Yes, we shared hell together and yes, I was the one who got out intact but surely those brain-dead shells of human beings weren’t worth this. I remembered how hard it had been to adjust to real life and real love after hell was all I’d known. I remembered the night terrors and the nightmares, the agony and fear. Wouldn’t it have been easier to never know what heaven was? Wouldn’t it have been easier to stay in hell forever than to have escaped and be back so soon? I remembered the last conversation David and I had on the subject.
“I think, and please love, don’t be angry, I think you want them to be more human than they are.” he had said, gently, searching for a clean pair of scrubs.
“They are human!” I had argued angrily.
“From what you’ve told me, love, they don’t really fit the classification. They’re not autonomous creatures, they can’t think for themselves, all they know is what they are ordered to do.” he corrected.
“That’s not their fault, they were trained that way!” I had bellowed, clenching my fists in fury.
“No, love, they weren’t trained that way, they were born that way. Dr. LuDuis, and devil take the man for playing with such as this, genetically altered them in the womb to be less than human. They have no free will, no independent thought, they could not live on their own and unless you would prefer them to die, they can’t be free. They are like house pets. Love, what they are has nothing to do with you. You heard Mort, you were altered to the other extreme, not only could you live on your own you could probably rule the world. You are not them, you are human, super human.” he smiled and touched my face gently.
“It’s still wrong.” I snapped, my anger fading.
“There are many wrongs in this world, pick a less dangerous one to fix.” he sighed and went to work. Was that really only a day ago? I began to struggle in my bonds to the wild entertainment of the crowd below. I had to go, I wanted to leave. To hell with my test tube sisters and their master and this club, I just wanted to be there when David collapsed into bed. Wanted to wrap myself around him and ease the stress of his job. My tears began anew and I sagged, broken, in the chains. I would have to ride this one out, take my punishment for my stupidity and disobedience and pray there would be a reprieve later.
Finally, the curtains closed and the winch lowered me back to the ground where I crumpled onto the floor. Quick and nimble hands unfastened all my accoutrements until I was completely naked and whimpering with only my holes filled. Those fingers scurried off and new ones dislodged the pump gag from my mouth and tore the dildos from my pussy and ass. I just lay there, passive, waiting.
The curtains opened again and there were less than a quarter of the people that had been there before; apparently, outright abuse was not everyone’s cup of tea. Those that remained were mostly male doms with an occasional female domme and a sub or two here and there.
The emcee came on stage and the cold grin under his mask told me he was the same man who arranged it.
“Please. I’m sorry, please let me go home, please!” I begged, discarding my pride like the mask it was. I never had any really, I had thought I’d earned some when David had saved me but really it was nothing but a lie. His grin grew at my submissive plea and it wasn’t the only thing to grow but it changed nothing.
“She wants to go home!” he roared to the room. The crowd laughed and jeered. I curled into a pathetic fetal position.
“I want to go home IwanttogohomeIwanttogohome . . .” I chanted as he stepped forward to address the watchers.
“We are here in leiu of our special production to assist a fellow in punishing and training his recently treacherous slave. Will the first participant come forward.”
The crowd quieted and rustled as a man came forward and climbed the stairs to the stage. The emcee incline his head to the dom and headed back stage to watch from the wing. I tracked his progress and saw the bouncer and all eight girls waiting there as well and wondered if any of them would help me if he got to rough, or if they would even care. I wondered if the man believed what he told the crowd, that I was a faithless runaway and that he was assisting my master. It was sure he hadn’t spoken to David and that he had invented the tale of the stolen money, but perhaps that was just for the crowd’s benefit, some people needed a goal and a confession was a good one as it stood. Vaguely I wondered where the submissive hostess was but that thought track was decimated by the new man on the stage hoisting me bodily to my feet.
He cuffed my writs and ankles into a metal frame I hadn’t noticed earlier. With a flourish, he placed a bar in front of my waist and out of his pocket came wicked weighted nipple clamps and they were securely tightened. I gasped a little but really, I’d suffered worse in the last couple hours. To my surprise, his next move was to bend the frame forward so I was bent nearly in half over the bar at my waist. I could have cried if there was a tear left, they were going to beat me. At my request, David didn’t do many pain games and true to his word, I always enjoyed when he did. I shivered as I was turned around so my raised ass and exposed sex faced the crowd. I flashed back to my childhood and wasn’t sure I could hold on to my sanity if I felt the whip or crop, tools of choice where I was raised. Thankfully, it was the flat sting of a paddle I felt across my ass. He knew what he was doing, the right amount of force, not following a pattern covering my whole ass, and even as I acknowledged his skill I cursed his existence, especially as it got worse. Soon my whole bum was bright red and my light whimpers had become sobs and cries but still he continued. Finally, he stopped to tremendous cheers; I could do nothing but hang there in pain.
The emcee came back and caressed my discolored ass, I hissed in pain and screamed when he pinched. He ran a finger up my dry slit and raised his eyebrows at the crowd.
“Not a painslut I see, not that it matters too much, and what better punishment than one she does not enjoy!” He raised the frame again so I was standing and turned me toward the crowd, “Who is our first penetration?” he called. A man came forward onto the stage and there was polite applause as he approached the emcee.
“Please tell us sir, which hole would you take and would you like us to prepare her or would you do it yourself?” he asked and held the microphone in front of the man to answer.
“Call me a traditionalist but I’ll take that sweet puss and you can get her warmed up for me.” he smirked.
“As you will, everyone please welcome the Silicone Sisters as they prepare the slave.” There was enthusiastic clapping as all eight of them came and laid hands on me. One stroked my shoulders, one my hair, one for each breast, two on my back and the last two on their knees, driving me into a frenzy with their hands and tongues. Despite my own determination and distracting thoughts, there was no denying my body’s response and with so much stimulation it took no time to reach the edge. The crowd held it’s breath in anticipation, I was not permitted to cum, if I did all of us would be in trouble, not that my trouble could have gotten much worse. But the sisters were expertly trained, teetering on the very brink all hands left me and the sisters vanished. I wailed in anguish as I thrust my hips to finish but there was nothing to thrust against and not enough give in my bonds even if there had been. It was then, in my agony, that the penetrator came back. He thrust into me without delay and after a moment, just standing there, he pulled out.
“I’ve changed my mind!” he announced, and took his slicked dick and thrust it to the hilt in my ass. There were loud cheers as he slammed into me again and again and I could do nothing but scream.
Needless to say my suffering was great that night. I, for the sake of your stomachs and minds, will not enumerate every wound to my flesh and soul in the detail I have, instead I believe a list will suffice to convey my torment. After that first rape, a participant came forward to stretch me on a modern rack until I thought my limbs would be torn from my body. While still stretched to the limit, two penetrators were invited one for my mouth and the other for my bottom. Still stretched, two participants came and warmed my flesh with floggers. I lost count of the strokes but they didn’t miss any flesh and my formerly ivory skin was pink and red with pain. When they left another participant was called and he had a cane. It was then I believe I went somewhere else. If you have never been caned, I can’t explain it, not really. Even a light force is a sharp sting with a cane due to the limited surface area and rigidity of the instrument.. Wielded too heavily, it has no trouble breaking flesh, and as my flesh was already weak from previous beatings and as this particular participant had a heavier hand than most, my flesh gave to the implement. He wasn’t allowed as much time as most of the others.
As I said, growing up the cane was common and my mind fled. It had been so good, with David, precious man, but for a moment it was very much as if he had never existed, I was sixteen all over again and my wardens were debating that since I was so damaged anyway why shouldn’t they have their fun with me.
When the canning came to a close my reactions had long since ceased and the crowd was beginning the get agitated. There was muttering of cruelty and the line between punishment and torture. The emcee, noticing the change of mood, came forward to ask for two gentle penetrators. They came forward and, though my pain remained, it was not added too for a few moments. When they finished, I was back in my head and the muttering had died enough to entertain the last couple participants.
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