Fleur V: Blackout

Sunday, 3.21 am

The long crawl behind Mistress Ava had taken Fleur to yet another part of the grounds of the former asylum. Far away from the loud party that was almost at its end, they were now alone, outside, where the party rumble seemed like a distant drone and the clicking of the mistress’ heels seemed to get louder and louder. Ava had slowed her pace considerably when they left “The Hole” and made their way across several empty hallways before exiting the building and continuing their stroll and crawl down some stairs and onto a cobblestone path that eventually turned into pebbles that were very unpleasant for Fleur’s hands and knees. This is where a second set of footsteps joined Ava’s. They were joined by a tall and slinky raven-haired young man in a leather outfit, who said nothing but simply operated a handheld camera on a gimbal to document Ava and her toy.

Still blinded by her black contact lenses, Fleur had no idea where she was or where they were going. Ava didn’t say anything until she suddenly stopped and told Fleur to do the same.

Nothing happened for a moment until Fleur heard the click of a lighter. Several seconds later, she smelled the smoke of Ava’s cigarette.

While Fleur waited for Ava to say or command something, she suddenly felt cold drops of rain starting to fall down. Even though the weather had started to become less dreary than the rain-heavy start of spring, there were the occasional heavy showers.

“Hmmpf, fitting,” Mistress Ava commented out of the blue.

“Get up!”

Fleur struggled to get onto her feet, but managed to do so before she felt Ava’s hands on her shoulders. “Here, step forward and up. Watch out.” the mistress guided Fleur over a small wall.

Unbeknownst to Fleur, she was led through the asylum’s large garden to a beautiful old-fashioned and now defunct fountain. It was round and quite large in diameter. In the middle, where once stood a pedestal topped with a tall statue of a maiden holding a water jug that poured water into the basin, was now a construction made by Ruin Your World. It was a rectangular metal frame that was angled ever so slightly backwards and was supported by two metal columns on each side. The frame was about 100 centimeters wide and 150 centimeters tall, hanging about two feet off the floor of the basin. It consisted of horizontal and vertical bars that were about an inch thick and wide and had about 10 centimeters of space between them. The frame was now in an almost upright position, but could be tilted forward or backward and locked in place through a system of metal pins on the side.

As the rain started to intensify, Ava guided Fleur with her back against the frame and quickly restrained her wrists to the upper left and upper right corner of the frame with metal handcuffs that dangled from the frame. The mistress fastened a leather belt tightly around Fleur’s torso, right under her breasts, looping it through the holes in the frame and securing Fleur tightly to the contraption.

Ava noticed the needles that were still embedded in Fleur’s areolas and made a mental note to remove those as soon as the meat was secured in place. Several other belts were used to strap Fleur’s thighs to the frame in two places. Each thigh received a strap at the top in her crotch, right against the duct tape on her tormented cunt and also about halfway down to her knees. These lasts straps were secured to the second horizontal bar from the bottom of the frame. Next, it wasn’t hard for Ava to fit Fleur’s ankles with cuffs that were connected with straps to the back side of the frame, pulling her feet and lower legs back and up, folding her legs at the knees.

Fleur slowly started waking up from the groggy haze she had been in. The rain was cold and it didn’t help that a strong breeze came in as well. But this was just the start. With Fleur now immobilized against the metal frame, Ava manipulated it and tilted it slightly back, so that Fleur’s body hung at about a 10 degree angle, her ample breasts, toned abdomen and duct taped cunt lewdly on display in the moonlight.

Despite all the new and older marks and wounds, or maybe even more so because of them, she looked absolutely stunning, even with her luscious blonde locks now gone and the various crude black tattoos that dotted her tits, abdomen and head. Her strong core muscles rippled under the tight skin of her waist and the new wetness brought by the rain gave her slender body a new bright shine.

Of course, Fleur couldn’t look down to admire herself. Ava left the blinding contact lenses in her eyes, but swiftly removed the needles from her tits, pulling them quickly one after another and discarding them on the floor of the basin. Fleur barely even noticed.

The Mistress stepped away for a few moments, the clicking of her heels on the concrete floor fading away as she made her way outside the basin again to retrieve bucket of water that had been prepared for her.

Carrying the bucket, she slowly made her way back to Fleur, who could only hear Ava’s footsteps draw closer until she felt a wet cloth, retrieved from the bucket, wrap around her face.

Ava pulled the cloth tight from behind the frame, clamped it in place with a glue clamp and poured some water from the bucket over Fleur’s face with a large cup. The water was icy cold and when it replenished the already soaked cloth, it immediately restricted Fleur’s ability to breathe. The sensation instantly took her back half a decade to a very tough and long night in southern Spain, during which she was severely whipped and repeatedly waterboarded by a trio of Moroccan men who couldn’t get enough of abusing their slender pain slut. She had learned that the key was to try and remain calm, despite the sensations, that panicked breathing would only make matters worse. She didn’t have the energy to panic anymore anyway, even if she wanted to. Ava poured the next cup and was slightly disappointed by the lack of movement or sounds from Fleur. She didn’t show any of it, though, but simply moved on to the next phase of this endurance interlude.

A loud noise and subsequent low engine hum suddenly appeared nearby. Ava had started a power generator that would play an integral part in the next ordeal that Fleur had to face.

When Ava snapped the battery clamps shut on Fleur’s already sore and tormented areolas, with their teeth slightly behind her fat and leathery nipples, one circuit on each nipple with a clamp above and under, it seemed to bring back some life into Fleur. She shrieked quite loud. And a minute later, when Ava sent a sudden jolt of electricity through the attached wires, Fleur yelped even more, adding the perfect soundtrack to two bright crisping flashes of light jumping through and over her nipples. This set-up was clearly not for posers and wannabes, but rather for seasoned, reckless pain pigs, who craved for their nipples to be seared relentlessly.

The clamps were connected to long cables that ran into the back of a van that was parked next to the fountain, to a medium-sized power generator and an electrical unit that was programmed to deliver a specially designed composition of jolts to the clamps on Fleur’s wet tits. But the devious minds of RYW didn’t just stop there. Out of sight for Fleur, right in front of her, surrounding a mounted static camera on a tripod, there were four large water cannons aimed directly at her restrained body.

Together, they slowly started a symphony of pain and torment. Almost like a dissonant introduction of a classical piece of music, the jolts of electricity started slow, consistent and dark, like a heartbeat, much like the opening chords of Chopin’s Piano Sonata #2, accompanied by a light, but continuous shower of artificial rain, superfluous because of the current weather conditions.

It was a deceptively slow start that wasn’t immediately painful for Fleur, who was mostly dealing with the effects of the cold water and wind at this point. But as the minutes ticked away, the interplay between the electric shocks and water cannons became more and more apparent. While the rain kept pouring both from the sky and one of the cannons, two others with less friendly settings were activated. Hard, relentless shots of cold water were propelled at Fleur, hitting her torso hard from different sides, punching her already sore body, punctuating an agonizing melody in the progression of the symphony.

The exposition was slow and deliberate, with pauses during which a fourth water cannon shot a wide load. The first dose went over Fleur’s head, but Mistress Ava quickly went out in the pouring rain to adjust the cannon for the second shot, making sure it landed right on Fleur’s head, where it fully soaked the cloth that covered her face, taking away Fleur’s breath in an instant and making it again very tough to breathe under the wet cloth.

Fleur groaned and twitched on the frame as the constant barrage of electrical shocks to her nipples and forceful punches of the water cannons tested her endurance. Mistress Ava watched the sick dance develop in front of her, equally intrigued and entertained by the scene. Her leather-clad videographer captured a wide shot from behind her while she smoked another cigarette.

There was a clear buildup to the routine, which intensified after about 20 minutes. The symphony was not moving to a coda, but immediately to a fast and exciting finale, with the jolts of electricity cranked up well over the safe limit and a barrage of water assaulting Fleur from all sides. Fleur felt like her tits were ripped right off of her chest while professional boxers punched her guts. She produced long guttural groans dotted with high pitched shrieks and grunts, like a caged and tormented animal. It was getting harder and harder to breathe through the wet cloth that was not only drenched in water, but covered on the inside by her own snot, slime and saliva.

Mistress Ava still watched in the pouring rain, fascinated by the violent yet restrained dance that was performed for her by Fleur’s wet, contorting body, until suddenly after another loud shriek, the water cannons stopped simultaneously. Fleur still groaned, her rib cage expanding quickly because of her heavy and deep breathing. It was a tremendous sight to see her flawless yet damaged body so perfectly put on grotesque display on the titled frame, the tension in all her muscles rippling under the tight skin of her thighs and abs, her large breasts still quite firm despite the years of abuse, proudly on top of her chest and decorated with the nasty jumper cable clamps that bit their teeth into the rugged, leathery flesh of her areolas.

Mistress Ava knew that the symphony had ended. It would take another five minutes to restart for round two. She walked over to Fleur in the basin and unclipped the glue clamp from the cloth around Fleur’s head before she pulled it down, revealing Fleur’s bald head and panicked face, which slowly calmed down somewhat when she could breathe freely again.

“Good girl,” Ava complimented the star of her show. “You know, we’re about halfway through your contract with us. I just wanted to let you know that. I bet you don’t have any sense of time or place anymore.”

Fleur didn’t answer. It was a lot to process. She had lost track of time a long while ago and was quite surprised to find that only 12 hours had passed since she was fitted with the unpleasant collar and pulled to her knees by Ava in her makeshift dressing room. It felt like it had been days and if she could see herself on video now, Fleur would agree that she also looked like it had been days.

“I know you will like where you will go next,” Ava continued, even though Fleur didn’t respond. “A sexy doctor who will assess your injuries and perform some much-needed medical treatments before you can continue on to serve us with your body.”

Ava wrapped the wet cloth around Fleur’s head again and used the glue clamp to secure it tightly in place.

“But that will have to wait for a little bit longer. They are still getting things ready for you, so we thought we’d keep you  comfortable here for another hour to enjoy this routine two more times. Let’s see how you do without me taking the cloth off in between. Good luck.”

Fleur heard the clicking of the mistress’ heels in the basin and not much later new jolts of pain shot through her nipples.

The second routine had started.