Part III
My morning routine is the same as it has always been here at Camp Treve. I rise
early and, after showering and dressing, scan through the video from the cell,
recorded during my sleep. Listen to the audio from a sensitive sound-activated
recorder.. usually nothing but a few sobs or groans from the slumbering women.
The video, of course, has sound as well, but it doesn't play while scanning
rapidly. It is important, I believe, to catch everything my charges do. The Camp
has been designed with this goal in mind.
By this time it is usually 5 or so. I select an aerobics video or two for the
exercise session and set them up to play. Wake my charges up with a light jolt
to their floor. Walk each in turn down the green line for a morning toilet, then
into the main chamber and their waiting collars. Then I join them in the
chamber, release them, and encourage vigorous exercise with a singletail.
This morning should be interesting. In the wee hours of the day, number 3 moved
stealthily among the others. By turning up the sound and filtering out the hiss,
I follow their whispered conversations on the video tape with interest.
'Nine,' she says furtively, tapping the girl's shoulder. 'Wake up.' A groggy
reply, that I can't make out. 'We need to get this prick. We outnumber him, and
if we work together, we can take over the Camp.'
9 looks at 3 for a bit, pondering. 'It's dangerous to even talk like this,' she
whispers.
'It's like two in the morning. We have to try, or he's going to beat the fuck
out of us. You didn't see what he did to me yesterday.' I can see 3's little
shudder. 'You could be next.' She waits, expectantly.
'You're right. But he's always got us locked down or separated.'
'Not during that exercise crap. I've been thinking. If we can get him pissed at
someone near the middle, I think five or six of us can take him. Hold him down
and shove that nightstick up his ass.' She whispers this last bit quite
fiercely, and I can't help but grin. 'The prick will have that whip in hand,
which is useless in close.'
9 thinks for a moment then nods. 'I'm in. Have you talked to the others yet?'
'No. I thought you would be the most likely, and the others will agree faster if
both of us are in on it. I think 6 will go with us.' 6 is the third of the
leaders I have identified. 'She's close to the middle of the line, well
positioned to be the bait.'
'When? Today?'
'The sooner the better. He's wearing us down. I say we go this morning.' 9 nods
in the affirmative. 'About fifteen minutes into the video.' Another nod. Number
3 move towards 6's prone form.
I follow 3's secretive movements around the cell, able to catch most of the
words exchanged. Numbers 2, 6 and 7 agree. 1 and 8 argue vehemently against the
plan, while the others remain non-committal. The redhead makes a final round
among her conspirators, getting agreement that five seems sufficient. She
finally retires again.
I smile broadly, turning to select the morning's exercise videos. Something to
keep them on the floor at first. Abs of Steel, which I rather enjoy anyway. A
second hard floor workout, as well.
I don a cup, just in case one of them has some brains.
I strip off my T-shirt, trading it for an equally black version with long
sleeves. Before putting it on, I tape a modified tazer above my waist. Run the
lead wires down my left arm and connect them to the flesh-toned little unit
strapped there. I spread my first two fingers into a wide V and flex my wrist
all the way back. A familiar line of bright blue arches between the little pins
extending from my fingertips, snapping in the air.
Before waking them, I remove the battery from the tazer at my belt, and lock the
nightstick in place with a heavy rubber strap. Turn to the microphone and send a
shock to the floor.
I walk down the line of women collared to the wall, patting the belly of each
with my right hand as I pass. 'You girls are getting a little soft.' I stop
briefly at number 3, making a show of examining her stomach. 'Just looking for
stretch marks, sugar,' I say with a wry smile.
'Fuck you.' Still grinning, I continue to the next captive.
'Today, for your workout pleasure, I have selected one of my personal favorites.
Abs of Steel. I want to see you grunting and sweating, ladies!' The rah-rah
speech is a daily torment as well. 'We'll have those solar plexi rippling with
washboards of muscle! Let's get to it!' I feel like Richard Simons for a moment.
I step back before them, shaking out the whip retrieved from my belt. Finger the
remote, first unlocking their collars, then starting the video on the front
wall, and finally entering my lockout code just in case one should grab it in
the scuffle I expect shortly.
As their collars click open, each steps obediently forward to the lines and
watches the screen. I barely catch the conspirators' exchange of glances, and
3's little nod, as sexy Tamilee Webb says 'Let's get down on the floor!' with
some enthusiasm.
'Let's go! Come on 4, all the way up. Shake that little ass of yours, 2.' I yell
various things of my charges and crack the whip over them occasionally, circling
before and behind them. I am on edge.
Finally, 6 misses a sit-up and starts to do partial extensions. I pretend not to
notice until I am directly behind her, then crack a forceful strike into one of
her nipples. She screams. 'Work 6! Exert yourself!' Another stinging blow. She
does two full reps, then misses another. I pretend rage, swinging a flurry of
blows into her body while screaming profanities at her. Finally, on her way up,
she yells out 'NOW!' and continues towards a standing position.
I plant one waffle-soled boot firmly into her ass, hurling her across the room
and out of action for the moment. This kick pivots me to my right, facing 7 as
she too stands. She really should have gone for my legs from the floor. Arching
my wrist back, I shove the crackling fingers of my left hand into her sweaty
stomach. She dances a little gig and collapses unconscious to the floor.
I step over her, and number 9 and I meet above 8's huddled form. Unceremoniously
I bring my hand up, hooking one of her tits in the V of my tingling hand. She,
too, falls to the floor.
I spin in time to shrug off the redhead's charge, scooting under her wildly
swinging arm and tossing her behind me. Hear her trip to the floor over one
woman or the other. I'll deal with her last. Number 2 is close behind, as
promised. Breath rushes out of her as I plant my sizable fist in her gut.
Doubled over like that, it's quite simple to tap the back of her neck with my
extended fingers.
Glance at 6 as I turn. She is dragging about on the floor, blood running down
her face. Must have smacked her head on the front wall, I think.
Number 3 is heading back my way, but notices that she seems alone in the
thought. Pulls to a halt. Begins to stumble backwards, eyes wide as I stride
purposefully towards her. As I step over 7, she reaches up and yanks the tazer
from my belt. The little bitch was apparently playing dead. She holds it against
the back of my calf and pushes the button. Nothing. I laugh at her surprised
look as she works the button again. I swing my boot backwards, connecting
solidly with her head. Twice more, breaking out a cut or two on her face.
I continue towards 3. The look of joy that sprang to her face when my tazer was
snatched falls away, and she continues to backpedal. A quick glance around shows
that all of the others have given up or have no intention of starting now.
Number 8 has shuffled back against the wall, under the collars, leaving only 9's
unmoving form between myself and the redhead. As I pass her, I reach down and
run my crackling fingers down her side. Once bitten and all.
Number 3's ass hits the wall. Eyes wide, hands splayed out in front of her,
presumably to ward me off. I stop before her, just out of arm's reach.
'Well,' I say conversationally, 'that didn't work, did it?' She's shaking her
head strenuously from side to side, though I suspect in protestation of that to
come and not in answer to my question. 'Turn around and grab your ankles. NOW!'
Surprisingly, she complies.. yesterday's instruction certainly changed her
behavior a bit. I reach down and fondle her cunt with my left hand, the two
little pins digging into her sensitive parts. Flex my wrist back, initiating
shudders that drive her to the floor.. I continue to shock her on the way down.
That will sting for a while.
I walk to the front of the room, and end standing over number 6. 'You're
bleeding on my floor,' I say, bending to grab under her arms and pulling her
upright. With a powerful shove, I send her stumbling towards the others.
'Get in your collars.' My tone is hard, eyes smoldering. Those that can, comply.
After they have locked themselves away, I lift the others into place and secure
them. Those unconscious, 3 and 9, hang limply by the neck. Other have hung from
these collars, and it hasn't been fatal yet, although it certainly looks evil. I
walk down the line, whip cracking several times against each of my charges.
Those awake scream and futilely try to cover themselves from the assault. I
lecture them as I go, working hard to leave the impression that I had no prior
knowledge of their plan. I want them to think they can scheme during the night.
'Every class of prisoners before you has tried to pull something like that
during exercises.' This is untrue, but sounds good. 'They've all failed, just as
you did. You may be fearsome to each other,' I explain as I hurl the lash into
number 2, 'but even in number you aren't a threat to me. I'm bigger and stronger
than you'll even be.' Demonstrate all of that strength in the final blow to 2,
sending her into howls. Move on to strike the limp number 3.
'Not only that, but I have all the tools at my disposal. Tools like this.' I
hold up my fingers and run a spark across them. I bring them down around 3's
right nipple, sandwiching it in the current for a moment. 'I'm also a bit
vicious.'
'Who arranged this little plan, number 4?' I begin to whip her, and continue to
do so until she speaks the redhead's number. I move to 5 and ask, 'Is that the
truth?'
'Yes. Yes!' I beat her anyway.
I berate number 6 as I whip her. 'You're not much of an actress, 6. All of the
sudden you're missing sit-ups? Next time, just lay off a bit.. I'll see it. I
see everything. Perhaps you'll make a better slut than actress. Maybe that
exercise will suit you. You did, however, play a pivotal role in this little
drama, earning yourself some extra attention.' I shock her in the crotch as
well, letting the voltage run through her labia for some time after she looses
consciousness.
'You don't even realize how hopeless your situation is.' I lay into the next
girl. 'You're secured in this little area. Even the cell is locked. You couldn't
even get any water.' Seven screams as I driver the cracker into the charred stub
of her clit. 'The remote control, you think. Foolish.'
I stand before number 8, and press the remote into her hand. 'Here. Open that
door.' I point towards my quarters. She looks at the remote, overwhelmed by the
many buttons distinguished by cryptic abbreviations. 'Confusing? I suppose you
could eventually figure out the right button. Here, it's this one.' She
depresses the button I indicate, but nothing happens. Looks back at me. I take
back the remote and begin to lash her. 'Oh, it's that button all right. But the
control is locked. Without my code, it's useless.'
'Guess the code? You don't even know how many digits.. could be two, could be
ten.' Move before number 9, who has started to stir. 'You think you might
convince me to reveal the code?' 9's screams proved that she is fully awake. 'I
was taken hostage after an assault in Beirut. Whipped, cut, bitten,
electrocuted. My captors kicked me in the balls until they bled. Shoved needles
into my cock and heated them with matches. Pain is my friend, and she walks with
me always. Sleeps in my bed at night. Rises with me in the morning. The worst
you little cunts could do would be a relaxing diversion.'
Releasing their collars, I say quietly to the bleeding women, 'Get back in your
cell while I decide to whom I should do what first.'
My correction rooms are full. Each of the five holds one of the conspirators in
this morning's game, directed into the room collars by my voice. The others,
those who chose not to participate, are huddled together in the cell. Whistling,
I walk the hall, deciding where to start.
The redhead. She awaits me again in the wet room, and will be the first to start
and last to finish. I noted her vehement reaction to the water torture, and have
decided to repeat it. Turn into the wet room and pull the door shut behind me.
'Hello, pet. Your peers have named you the instigator of the little drama this
morning.' She shakes her head, no. 'Oh yes. Since I enjoyed pumping you full
yesterday, I thought we would repeat it.'
'Noo!' Her yell echoes off the tiled walls.
Again I stretch her on the frame. Warm the machine and plug her ass and throat
with the inflatables. Pump her as full as I dare with water. Number 3 hangs
before me, upside down, her glorious red hair dangling to the floor. Her belly
bulges out, grossly distended, and she squirms and cramps under the pressure.
Her screams are distorted by the spreader wrenching her mouth wide open.
'This machine has one little trick I didn't illustrate last time,' I tell her
while spinning her upright. Return to the machine and start the pumps whirring
again. This time, however, the second pump, connected to the tube down her
throat, is churning in reverse. I turn the flow controls together, keeping the
pressure constant but sending a steady stream of water through her, forced into
her ass and sucked out her throat. The powerful little pumps move quite a volume
of fluid. Finally, I set the machine to slowly cycle the water temperature from
80 to 120 degrees, which will send her relentlessly from chills to sweats and
back again.
'I have one last thing for you, sugar, before I leave for a bit.' I roll over
another machine and uncover it. A tall steel post on rollers. A metal arm that
extends out supporting a three-part wheel at its end. Various adjustments allow
the arm to move up and down the post, and extend or retract in length. I lock
the unit in position before her, and she stops yelling long enough to eye it
fearfully. I plug it in.
I lower the arm, and extend it between her legs. Glance at her, then down at the
three knobs on the control panel. The dials currently rest at the vertical
position, 0, and extend to negative RPMs to the left, positive to the right. I
turn both outer knobs to the left a bit. The machine starts to grind, and the
exterior of three disks between her legs start to revolve. A half-dozen rubber
strands, spaced evenly about the perimeter of each disk, stretch out from the
center as the speed increases. I stop at 100 RPMs. Look up into her begging
eyes. She can't see the end of the arm, but the sounds and the breeze between
her legs probably give her a good idea of what is to come.
Turn a knob on the arm, near the post. The arm begins to rise. One final
adjustment to the machine's alignment, shifting it left a bit, right on center.
Up a little more, and the strands begin to nip at her, eliciting ear-shattering
screams. A little more height and the strands are battering her outer labia with
machine gun frequency.
The outer wheels are turning from the bottom-up, driving into her from below. I
turn the middle dial to the right and bring the center disk to life. Faster and
faster. The strands on the middle disk stretch out at her, nearer and nearer the
center of her sex. I can tell they are barely scraping flesh when her scream
change pitch. More speed. Now I can see them flicking her, a bit to low. A hair
faster and the ends are snapping into her clitoris as she strains away from it
as far as her tense bonds allow. From her shuddering and hitching, I guess her
to be coming already.
'I'll see you in a few hours, sugar, after I see to the others.' Her screams
follow me down the hall even with the door secured.
Number 6 is next.. my little actress. She, too, I decide, with have a protracted
stay in the correction room. I have her collared in 1, and walk that way.
'Hello, 6. You know your transgressions, so there really isn't any sense
reciting them.' I move to the low table, unlatch the padded top and lean it
aside. The flat metal surface beneath is peppered with hundreds of small holes.
'I thought you might like some acting practice. I'll do some things to you, and
you act like you're in pain, ok?' She shakes her head from side to side. 'Oh, I
know your acting skills aren't much, but don't be ashamed. I really think you
can play this role.'
I release her collar and roughly toss her onto the table. She moves to get off.
'Don't you resist me,' I hiss, yanking her back by the hair. I restrain her
loosely by wrists and ankles to the corners of the table. I want her to be able
to shift about.
Standing at the foot of the table, I gaze up and down her beautiful, sleek form.
'You don't have 3's tits, number 6, but you are a great piece of work. Lights,
camera, action,' I say with a smile.
I bend down. Turn a crank at the foot of the table. The metal top begins to
lower slowly. From beneath, hundreds of rigidly mounted, sharp little nails work
their way through the holes, slowly taking her weight. She starts to writhe and
scream. Soon, her pretty little body rests on the nails, three inches above the
flat surface that was so much more pleasant. Her helpless tugging drags her
across the points, but she can't seem to stop.
'You know, I once killed a prisoner on this table.' Her wide green eyes stare at
me in disbelief. 'Oh yes. I stood atop her and jumped up and down. She died
slowly.. blood loss, I think. There's a line of space down the middle. It's no
fun once they are paralyzed. After I started, she tried to drive her own head
back into the nails, but couldn't seem to do it hard enough.'
'I'll let you get nice and raw. Then, I'll be back.' I give her a lecherous
wink. 'Your acting really is improving. That discomfort is quite convincing.'
I ponder the fate of number 9, the first girl to agree to 3's plan. She deserves
something special for that, but I can't treat her differently than 2 and 7
without revealing the information conveyed by the tape. I'll just whip her, I
decide.. whip them all.
Walk in on 9, release her and throw her to the center of the barren room.
Without ceremony, I hoist her into the air by her ankles, legs spread wide. Her
jet-black hair falls towards the floor. Cuff her arms behind her back.
9 has been pleading with me since I entered, although I suspect she knows it's
futile. 'Haven't been in one of my little rooms before, have you 9?' I idly
reach down to twist her nipples as I speak, sick of her pleas. Screams of pain
are much more pleasant. 'You are guilty of plotting against me, which is, of
course, a violation of the rules. You really weren't very effective, 9.. one
little zott, to this tit as I remember, and you were out.' I twist her flesh
viciously, eliciting fresh screams.
I select a basic, heavy latigo flogger from a cabinet. Sometimes, it's the
location, not the implement. Shaking it out, I stand behind her. She twists left
and right attempting to watch me. Throw the flogger back and sling it forcefully
into her exposed cunt. Again. Her screams of pure agony are like sweet music.
I whip her tender pussy into a bloody, unrecognizable pulp over the next half
hour or so, sometimes pulling shorter to drive to tips into her anal region for
variety. She yells and struggles satisfyingly as the blood runs down over her
face.
On my way out but I stop, turn back.. an afterthought. Move to the cabinet one
last time. Get a handful of something. Bending down closer to her face, I say,
'By the way, nine. I'm not sure you girls are getting enough salt in your diet.'
I stand and sprinkle a liberal amount onto the bloody mass between her legs
before turning to go.
I string number 7 from the ceiling as well, by her wrists. More ropes to hold
her ankles wide apart. I pull up a chair and chat with her.. a rather one sided
conversation. She seems to be screaming uncontrollably as I dig into the burned
remnants of her clit with a sharp needle. Bored after twenty minutes, I trade
the needle for small vice grips and a pair of scissors.
'You obviously didn't learn the cost of breaking rules around here, 7,' shaking
my head at her. 'I should stop being so nice. As you don't seem to value the
half of your clit that I left, I may as well have that, too.'
Place the pliers tightly on what remains for her bud, crushing it. Pull down,
hard, stretching out this bit of pliant flesh. Slowly, slowly squeeze the
scissors shut, severing her clit at its base, bit by bit. Cast the vice grips
aside and move to flog her as she drips blood on the floor.
2 awaits me in correction room 3, and trembles quietly to herself when I stride
in. I walk past her and strip the cover from a metal St. Andrews cross, pulling
its bottom away from the wall a resulting in a slight incline and a space behind
it. Rummage through a low chest, pulling out restraints, a heavy strap, two
nasty floggers and a length of thick twisted rope. Move to a chest of drawers
and find two clips and two pulleys. Retrieve a step-ladder, and use it to clip
one pulley high on the wall above the cross and the other out into the room by
several feet. Then I roughly restrain her to the cross.
'Number 2, I am disappointed in you. I expected you to be smarter than this.'
'Please, Sir. I'm sorry.. so sorry. I..'
'You will be sorry, but I don't think you understand that just yet.' I shrug.
'Well, it seems that today I have a penchant for cunt torture.' Her eyes widen.
'Most of your co-conspirators are currently bleeding from that area, and I don't
think it's a monthly thing.'
She, too, begins a senseless litany of begging. I run the thick, bumpy rope
between her spread legs and behind the cross. Stand on the ladder and guide it
through the first pulley, then the second. Pull it tightly up into her crotch
and knot the ends together. On a whim, I go again to the cabinet and collect a
spring clip, another length of rope, and about eighty pounds in iron barbell
weights. Tie the clip to the end of the rope, and snap it over the other,
between the two pulleys.
2 is on her toes trying to escape the bite of the rope. 'Does that hurt?'
'Yes, Sir.'
I laugh aloud. 'Not yet it doesn't.' I reach up and yank the rope, pulling
perhaps three feet of it's raspy surface through her pussy. She screams for me
as the rope bites into her. I pull it back and forth, occasionally far enough to
force to largish knot through her crack as well.
The first signs of blood begin to show on the rope, and it has stretched a bit,
become somewhat loose. That's not good. I hang twenty pound of weight on the
second rope, which pulls the entire rig taunt again. Applies, in fact,
significantly more pressure than we started with. I return to pulling on the
rope, and it burns and cuts at her better than before. By the time I tire of
this, eighty pounds dangle from the rig, tugging the rope into her cunt strongly
enough that it is real work to wrench the knot through her.
She, too, receives a patient beating. I leave the rope to pressure her skinless,
bleeding cunt while I strike her. Finally, I carry 2, 7 and 9 back to the cell.
Also leave the others some medical supplies and instructions to tend to their
wounds.
Number 6 has helplessly scraped her back raw, and she too is bleeding on my
floor. There will be much to clean after this work. Perhaps it would be
instructive to have the women clean up after themselves before returning to the
cell. I ponder the idea, but discard it in the end. They would doubtless do a
shoddy job of it.
My perky little brunette is sweaty and exhausted. I decide to finish with her
promptly. I had intended to whip her, too, but my arm is tired.. and looking at
her, my dick is hard. 6 watches me fearfully as I undress.
'You're still not much of an actress, number 6. If you remember, I believe I
promised to see if you make a better slut.' I step up onto the table. Close my
eyes for a moment, savoring the way the nails poke into the soles of my bare
feet. Squat down, driving several through the thick calluses on the balls of my
feet as they take most of my weight. Place my hands on 6's belly, knees on her
thighs, and lower myself onto her. She starts singing again as my weight drives
the nails deeper into her back , buttocks and legs.
I enter her, and fuck her vigorously. Her screams continue, roughly timed with
my thrusts. I come more quickly than I intend, driven to it by the sharp tips of
the nails scratching at my balls as they swing. To make up for my quickness, I
spend some time biting her nipples.
'Everyone else is back in the cell,' I merrily inform 3 as I enter. I guess it's
time to finish with you.' The relentless battering of the whipping machine has
started the redhead bleeding as well. The rubber strands are soaked with her
blood, and have sprayed a line of red dots up her front and on the ceiling,
floor and facing wall.
'You've created quite a mess, I see.' Her voice is gone, and she creates only
quiet huffs, barely audible over the noises of whipping. I jostle her full
belly, it sloshing in response. I select a handful of harsh whips and add my
attentions to the relentless whipping of the machine.
End Part III
