Rise and Fall - A Group XS Story

Prologue

Belgorod, Russia

Three years ago

Victoria Makarova sat comfortably in the armored limo as it rumbled through the bumpy streets on its way to city hall. She glared at the angry protesters arrayed on either side of the avenue with her cold, gray eyes.

"Governor," she said to the portly man seated beside her, "you've let this go too far. You've been too lenient and now the people are taking advantage of your weakness."

"I don't understand it," the governor said. "I'm no more corrupt than my predecessor. Why do they protest me?"

"Whatever the reason," Victoria said, "the Kremlin has sent me to crack down on them. You'll find my tactics heavy-handed, but I assure you, they are effective."

"Well I certainly appreciate any assistance that the FSB can offer. You have my full support and access to any resources you may need," the governor replied.

Victoria gazed out at the sea of angry protesters and shifted within the soft leather seat of the limo. Just imagining what she was going to do to the angry rabble was making her so wet. If the citizens of this city didn't yet fear their government, they soon would.

---

A few blocks away, Tania Sarducci tugged at the sleeve of her boyfriend. "Sergei! Don't!" she cried out.

"Why not?!" Sergei raged, drunk on the anger of the mob around him. "The people starve and the government does nothing. Meanwhile the oligarchs get richer and richer." He hefted the brick in his hand back behind his head.

"There's security officers all over! They're just waiting for this protest to turn violent and then they'll come storming in with their batons and teargas." Tania turned to her other companions. "Natasha, Nadia, please talk some sense into him!" But they were just as angry as Sergei.

"Fuck the Kremlin! Fuck the police!" Sergei shouted. Then he heaved the brick through the window of the government building. There was a loud crash and within seconds the square was swarming with police, who poured out of every door and came from around every corner.

Tania saw Sergei take a baton across the back of his head. He crumpled to the pavement and then disappeared into the chaos that was engulfing the square. Tania, jostled about by the panicked crowd tried to fight her way to her fallen boyfriend, but powerful arms grabbed her from behind.

"Let me go!" she screamed as she was dragged behind a line of riot police carrying large clear shields and kevlar helmets.

With terrifying efficiency her arms were yanked behind her back and secured with zip-tie cuffs. Her ankles, too, were zip-tied together. A pair of police officers picked her up and jogged toward a van waiting with its rear doors open, one carrying her shoulders and the other her kicking and struggling feet.

Tania took one more glance at the square, hoping to see her friends fleeing, her boyfriend getting to his feet. A shiny black limo zipped past on the road lining the edge of the square. A few seconds later there was a loud 'boom', Tania squinted against the bright flash as a fireball engulfed the limo, sending it flying into the air. The screams of terror and panic increased. Tania was roughly thrown into the back of the van amidst a pile of other bound and battered protesters. The doors slammed closed and the van raced away from the chaotic scene, changing Tania's life forever.

Chapter 1 - Come Out and Play

New York City

Present day

Catherine Grace reached for the next file in her inbox and sighed. It seemed like the only cases she got these days involved throwing hookers and the homeless in jail. This wasn't why she became a prosecutor. She wanted to make a difference. She wanted to see the bad guys punished. Instead she spent her time sending society's downtrodden through the one-size-fits-all justice system, where they'd spend a few months in jail before being tossed out on the street again, instead of getting the help they really needed.

She opened the new case file and browsed the contents - an attempted robbery of a woman at knifepoint. Nothing too out of the ordinary. A bystander happened along and broke up the robbery, subduing the attacker. She flipped the page to the victim summary and gasped. There were photos of the victim's body - she was covered all over in scars, burns, and other signs of torture. The small gash from the knife attack paled in comparison to what this woman had experienced.

Catherine turned to the hospital report. It made mention of "considerable scarring to the chest, back and body; consistent with a prolonged assault, even torture. The marks are historic and the victim was not prepared to give any indication as to their source or origin."

There was certainly something more to this woman's story and Catherine had to get to the bottom of it. Maybe, for once, she could actually help somebody. She looked over the victim's report once again. Fuck. She was in the country illegally. Immigration was only holding her until the resolution of the knife attack case, and then she'd be deported back to her native Russia.

Catherine packed up her briefcase and grabbed her purse. "Don't worry, Tania," she said. "I'm coming to help!"

---

Meanwhile, a few hours away from the city, a car pulled up to the large, non-descript farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. This farm wasn't too different from any others in the area, except that its fields had been left fallow for years, and there was a large barbed-wire topped security fence running all along the perimeter, and it also happened to be the secret headquarters of an evil organization of kidnappers and sadists - Group XS.

The car pulled to a stop at the end of the long driveway. A stocky woman with short brown hair stepped out of the driver's seat. Her heavy boots crunched on the gravel walkway as she approached the house. Before she could even raise her hand to ring the bell, the front door swung open.

"Good morning, Mistress Helga! Welcome back!" the servant who answered the door chirped. Helga merely grunted in reply, ignoring the girl while she took off her jacket. The girl might have helped, but her hands were trapped at her sides by short chains running from her cuffed wrists to the tight corset that was cinched cruelly tight around her waist. 

Instead, the girl stood at attention, teetering on her ballet boots which forced her to stand up on the points of her toes. The boots were padlocked in place. A pair of black thigh high latex stockings ran up her long legs. A heavy chain was wrapped around one ankle and connected to the wall a few feet away, ensuring that the girl would remain at her post.

"Has Midori returned yet from the task I gave her?" Helga asked, her voice heavy with a German accent.

"No, mistress," the servant replied.

Helga scowled. Concern showed in the eyes of the servant girl. She knew that an upset mistress often meant humiliation and pain for any unfortunate slave nearby, and she was the only one in the room. She tried not to show fear, her face was mostly hidden behind a black latex mask. Only her mouth and her expressive blue eyes, made reddened by recent crying, showed. Fear was like catnip to the members of Group XS - one sniff and they went wild, driven into a sadistic frenzy.

The servant gulped, a task made all the more difficult by the tall leather collar buckled around her neck. The front of the collar jutted out near the top, just below the girl's chin, and arrayed across that section were a dozen sharp metal spikes. The girl made sure to keep her head tipped back, not just to avoid the prick of the painful spikes, but also because any brush with the prickly points risked tearing the latex hood that she wore - an infraction which would certainly result in severe punishment.

"Very well," Helga grumbled. "Tell her I'll be in the Bondage Suite when she arrives."

Helga tossed her jacket on the coat hook. The servant bit her lip and grimaced. That was because the coat hook was suspended from a chain strung between her breasts, the ends of which were affixed to her nipples via a pair of heavy clamps. The girl's generous tits were supported by a half-cup bra built-in to her corset. The bra, like her collar, was also studded with spikes and the weight of the jacket mashed her massive mammaries down onto the spikes.

"Yes, mistress. I'll let her know," the girl replied, her voice quavering from the pain.

Helga marched over to a heavy door set in the wall and flung it open, then descended the stairs behind it. The slave girl turned about and wobbled her way to the coat closet so she could store her mistress's jacket. The chain locked to her ankle clattered noisily behind her and the girl moved very stiffly due to the enormous dildos that had been rammed into her pussy and ass beneath her tight pin-studded latex panties.

Helga took a deep breath as she descended the stairs into the dim dungeon and she smiled. It was the smell of fear and misery, leather and sex. She unlocked the door to the Bondage Suite and entered. It appeared that she was the first one in for the day, so she made her rounds to check on the miserable slaves within - some she had left there herself before she went home the night before.

She first approached the stiff leather bondage bag suspended from the ceiling. The straps on the outside had been cinched so tight that the shape of the girl inside was clearly visible. The leather bag had been wet when she had been stuffed inside and had shrunk as it dried so that now it fit her like a second skin. Helga could even see the straps with the inward facing spikes that had been buckled around the girl's arms, legs, and torso before she had been stuffed inside the bag.

Helga rubbed her cheek against the smooth leather, breathing in the rich, intoxicating scent. She ran her hands along the outline of the girl. The bag had been hung inverted, the girl's pointed toes stretching towards the ceiling. Helga thought she could hear a slight snore rumbling out from behind the two tiny holes positioned beneath the girl's nose.

"Sleeping like an angel," she thought. Then she brought her hand back behind her head and delivered a hard open-handed slap hard right into the girl's gut. The slave girl was yanked out of her slumber and back into the waking nightmare of her reality as the spiked strap across her stomach was slammed into her flesh. Helga could see the bondage bag flex ever-so-slightly as the girl reflexively tried to double over, but the tight leather held her immobile.

"Good morning, Nicole!" Helga announced to the leather covered lump that encased the girl's head.

Nicole replied from within her leather prison with moans and grunts. The bondage bag wriggled as the girl fought her tight confines with all her strength - an exercise in futility.

"Just twelve more hours, then we'll see if you're more willing to play with us, eh?" Helga teased.

The girl's breathing was punctuated with sobs at the prospect of spending so many more hours completely immobilized within the bondage bag, not to mention whatever fresh horrors awaited her when she got out.

"I can just imagine how uncomfortable you are," Helga said. "So hot. So tight." Her hand ventured up to Nicole's tummy and pressed hard. "So full."

Helga's fingers danced up between the trapped girl's legs while her other hand rubbed her own moistening pussy beneath her silk panties. "Maybe I can help you out with that last bit, though," she suggested. Her fingers danced past the inflators for Nicole's dildo and butt plug - those hadn't been pumped up all the way until after the bondage bag had completely dried out and shrunken down. She found the clip on the hose running from Nicole's catheter and loosened it. A dark stream of yellow urine immediately filled the transparent tube. The slave girl moaned in relief as the pressure in her bladder abated. Unfortunately her relief would only be temporary, because the tube ran down into the girl's gag and the urine was deposited again at the back of her throat.

"The things I'm going to do with you when you come out of that bag, it's making me so wet! But that can wait until later," Helga purred.

She walked away from Nicole, who was busily slurping down her own piss as it collected in her mouth, and moved to a small trunk tucked into a corner of the room. Along the way she passed a gagged and naked slave stuffed into a cage so small that her fleshed bulged out around the bars on every side. Helga fiddled with the locks on the front of the trunk until the top popped free. A much-relieved slave girl inside lifted her head from between her knees now that it was no longer pressed down by the lid of the trunk. The rebreather bag attached to her gag fluttered excitedly in and out.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" the hooded and bound slave girl mumbled through her jaw-breaking gag.

"Oh my! You're happy to see me today, Kate!" Helga effused. "Are you ready to come out?"

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Kate grunted excitedly.

"Oh, that's too bad. Because I'm not ready for you to come out!" Helga laughed as she shoved Kate's head back down into the trunk and pressed the lid closed. She could hear Kate's terrified screams as she relocked the latches on the outside of the trunk. She just loved teasing her, letting her think she was being released, only to close her right back up again.

But now Helga turned her attention to the slave she was really here to see. The one who, despite her intense fear of Helga, had been trying to get her attention ever since she had come down. As Helga walked over to the poor girl it was obvious why she sought her mistress's help.

The naked girl was in a crab position, her chest pointed toward the ceiling, her body held up off the floor by her hands and feet. For a couple reasons she had held this position for nearly the entire night. For one, her wrists and ankles had been cuffed to the corners of a two foot by three foot plank of wood laying on the floor beneath her. And for another, the wooden plank was studded with several dozen razor sharp nails pointing up underneath the trembling girl! The wounds on her ass cheeks and the little drops of blood on the plank suggested that the girl's efforts to keep herself aloft all night had not been entirely successful.

But it wasn't all bad, from Helga's perspective, at least. She had generously provided the poor slave some support to help keep herself up off the spikes: two large fishhooks had been jabbed in behind her nipples, a line ran from each hook up over a ring on the ceiling and the end of each had a one kilogram weight hanging on it!

"Ah, Madison," Helga purred. "I was thinking about you all night. Were you thinking about me?"

"Mmm-hmm! Mmm-hmm!" Madison agreed emphatically, nodding her head, sending the heavy weights connected to her tits swinging.

"Oh good!" Helga replied. "Now as I recall, last night you weren't too keen on licking my pussy. Maybe today you've changed your mind?"

Again Madison was eager to show her new agreeable attitude. Funny how a night of torture and abuse in a dungeon full of moaning slaves can change a person's outlook on life. Her enthusiastic grunts erupted from behind her bulging cheeks and taped up mouth. Helga leaned in and tore layer after layer of tape from the girl's lips and then extracted the large pair of satin panties from within her stuffed mouth.

"Hmm, it looks like you've done a fine job cleaning my panties for me. They must have been awfully musky. My pussy was running like a tap thinking about that lovely tongue between my legs. Can you imagine my disappointment when you didn't seem interested in pleasuring me? Instead I had to find other ways to amuse myself, didn't I?"

She ran her fingers along the dark bruises topping Madison's thighs. The cane marks had darkened since she had laid them down across the girl's legs before leaving yesterday. It must have made staying up off of the spikes so much more miserable.

"I'm sorry, Mistress! I'm sorry!" Madison blubbered now that her mouth was freed of the panties. "Please let me lick your pussy. Please! I'll make you feel so good. Please let me do it."

"There, there," Helga hushed the sniveling girl, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I must say, your attitude this morning is much improved. Before I let you pleasure me though, what do you say I do something to relieve some of the strain on these aching legs?"

"Oh, thank you mistress! My legs ache so much, and the spikes, they're so - aiyeeee!" Madison shrieked as, instead of being freed from the plank as she was expecting, Helga found two more weights to add to the lines attached to her tits. The slave's tits stretched into a pair of tortured cones as the two additional kilos added to each line tugged fiercely on the fishhooks, reopening the wounds and pulling them wider.

"No! Please! Take them off! Take them off! You're killing me!" Madison begged.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Helga admonished as she stepped out of her skirt and panties. "Doesn't it lift some weight off those tired limbs?"

Helga now hung a padded strap from the ceiling, lined up above Madison's face. She stepped forward, placing one foot on either side of the plank, and inserted her upper body into the strap so that she could loom comfortably over the suffering girl.

Madison stared uneasily up at her mistress's hot, wet cunt. She had been hoping that licking her pussy would involve being removed from the spiked plank, but no such luck. Helga lowered herself to the girl's face. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked as she idly flicked the weights hanging in front of her.

Madison tried her best to push away her pain, push away her fatigue, push away her revulsion, and she buried her face between the woman's thick thighs.

"Oooh, that's good," Helga cooed. "Don't be afraid to really get that tongue deep in my pussy."

She sank down lower on the strap, transferring some of her weight to the girl's busy face. Madison's strained moans were stifled by the sloppy wet cunt bobbing up and down on her face, smearing her mouth and nose with saliva and pussy juice. She kept licking and slurping as her tired arms trembled under the added weight.

"Oh, yes! Yes! Harder! Faster! Suck my clit!" Helga shouted. "Oooh! Oh! Now lick my asshole!" She shifted forward, presenting her puckered brown hole. Madison hesitated at this disgusting new request. She pulled her head away.

Smack! Madison felt an explosion of pain as a leather whip crashed down between her legs, landing square against her defenseless pussy. "Aiyeee!" she shrieked like a banshee. Her legs buckled beneath her. She screamed again as her ass crashed down onto the spikes below. She fought to lift herself back up as Helga rained blow after blow down onto her tits, her legs, her tummy, and her pussy - her lust had morphed to a fiery fury.

"You fucking bitch! How dare you turn away from me?!" she raged. Smack! Smack! Smack!

Madison was frantic. She twisted and turned to try and evade the whip. The weights suspended by her tits bobbed and rattled as she thrashed about. Her back and her butt raked across the sharp spikes again and again.

Suddenly there was a loud crash! One of the fishhooks embedded in Madison's tits had torn free. The weights suspended by the line tumbled to the floor and Madison's screams found a new intensity. She crumpled to the plank, too weak and agonized to rouse herself off again.

"Mistress?" a tiny, high-pitched voice said from over by the stairs. "Slave upstairs say you want to see Midori when I get back?"

The tiny Asian girl stepped into the light. Helga dropped her whip and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Oh good! You're here!" Helga said, the calm returning to her voice. "Did you unload Katie?"

Midori nodded.

"Excellent! Then can you get this snivelling piece of shit stitched up?" she said, gesturing to the broken, blubbering girl collapsed in a bloody heap atop the spiked plank. "Now the fun can really begin!"

Chapter 2 - Gone Away

New York City ICE Detention Center

Present Day

Catherine Grace walked alongside the guard as he escorted her to the detention cells. "You're here to see Tania Sarducci?" he asked. "That girl's got problems. When we first put her in her cell she had a huge panic attack. It was nuts - never seen anything like it before. And then when Dr. Jacobs came by later to check on her wound, she started screaming bloody murder. I don't know what her problem is, but I'll be glad when she's out of my hair."

When they got to the cell Catherine saw Tania huddled in the corner, hugging her knees. Her anxiety increased dramatically when the two of them stopped in front of the door and the guard pulled out his key to unlock it.

"No. No. No. No," Tania mumbled over and over. Catherine stepped inside the cell and urged the guard to give the two of them some privacy.

"Tania? My name is Catherine Grace. I'm with the state's attorney's office. I wanted to talk to you about the attack. Can we have a little chat?"

Tania stared fearfully back at Catherine.

"I'm here to help. You can trust me," Catherine assured her. "Can you tell me how you got these marks?" she asked, gently touching Tania's arm.

"I was punished," Tania said softly.

"By who?" Catherine pleaded. "If there's some sort of trouble back in Russia then I might be able to get you asylum in the U.S. But I need you to talk to me or they're going to send you back."

"No! No! Don't send me back!" Tania said, growing agitated. "They'll find me! I have to hide! I have to run!"

"Who did this to you Tania?" Catherine hugged the terrified girl. After a minute she finally calmed down.

"You promise to protect me?" she asked. Catherine nodded. "Alright," Tania sighed. "I'll start at the beginning."

---

Belgorod State Security Black Site

Three Years Ago

The ride out of the city was mostly quiet. The dozen or so bound prisoners stared silently at each other. No one knew what would happen next. Tania was desperate to find out what had happened to her boyfriend Sergei, and what had happened to her friends, Natasha and Nadia. There were no windows in the back of the van, so it was impossible to see where they were being taken, but the ride was certainly longer than it should have been to get to the local police station.

Finally, the van came to a stop. The rear doors swung open, but all that anyone could see was that they were in a large garage. A dozen men wearing black uniforms with no insignia and black balaclavas obscuring their faces ushered them out of the van. The prisoners begged to know where they were, insisted they were just innocent bystanders, demanded to talk to their lawyers - but the men wordlessly ignored them as they lined everyone up. They went down the line, each prisoner had a thick cloth bag pulled over their head, then their ankles were freed and they were marched one by one through a heavy door leading into the attached building. Tania anxiously waited her turn, her fear growing with every second that passed.

She was led blindly into the building, stumbling along after the guard, who held a tight grip on her elbow as he guided her through doors and down long hallways. She was finally tossed into a cell by herself, only then did the guard speak.

"What is your name, address, and citizen ID number?" he demanded. Tania lifted her hands to pull the bag off of her head. "Do not remove that until you are given permission!" the guard snapped.

Tania answered his question. Satisfied, he left, closing the heavy steal door behind him. Tania explored the cell, it was about five feet by eight feet, solid brick walls and a solid metal door, no furnishings. There were no bars. She could hear nothing from what she assumed were the other cells around her. There was nothing to do but wait.

After maybe three or four hours someone finally returned. The door creaked open, Tania, bored out of her mind, jumped to her feet. Again she was led through the building by a firm grip on her elbow. When they arrived at their destination the zip tie cuffs were cut free. Tania rubbed her aching wrists.

"You will remove your clothes," the female guard said tersely.

"Where am I?" Tania asked. "What's going on?"

Smack! The guard's thick hand crashed across Tania's face. Still blinded by the bag over her head, Tania was caught completely unawares and was nearly knocked to the floor by the blow.

"You will remove your clothes," the guard said again, more sternly. Tania stifled her tears and complied, her cheek still stinging. There was a chill in the room and by the time she finished she stood next to her pile of discarded clothing shivering, trying to preserve her modesty by covering her tits and pussy with her hands. Tania thought she heard the click of a camera shutter. She opened her mouth to object, but her sore jaw made her reconsider.

"Come. Sit down on this chair," the guard said next. With Tania's newfound compliance the stern guard had softened her tone. Tania, after spending the past few hours sitting on the hard floor was glad for somewhere more comfortable to sit, at least. The guard guided her into position and sat her down.

"Oh! It's cold!" Tania chirped as her bare skin made contact with the cold metal bars of the chair. The guard merely chuckled softly to herself, pushing Tania back down.

"Slide up against the back. Spread your legs," the guard ordered, pushing her into position.

"Wait! I think there's something wrong. There's no seat on this chair," Tania protested as she felt her butt sag between the bars. She tried to get up, but was shoved back down.

"Stay there!" the guard ordered.

Tania's hands were pulled behind the back of the chair and she felt a leather strap wrap around her wrist. Another one was soon buckled around her other wrist. The guard moved to her ankles and quickly secured them, one to each leg of the chair. Tania would have thought that was more than enough to keep her in place. Then again, she didn't know what she was in store for. The guard found more straps attached to the chair and wrapped them just above Tania's knees, around her torso below her tits, there was even one buckled loosely around her neck. A final strap pulled her elbows close together behind the back of the chair.

"Please tell me what's going on," Tania begged. The guard merely scoffed and left the room.

For nearly an hour Tania waited, shivering against the cold and her growing fear. Finally she heard the door open.

"Is someone there?" she asked. She felt fingers tugging at the bag that had been pulled over her head since she had arrived at this place. With a yank it came free and she blinked against the bright light shining directly down on her from the ceiling above. She could make out very little in the darkness surrounding her. The room was just more featureless brick walls. There was a cart and some bizarre machine with various cables snaking out of it sitting on top of it.

Standing in front, ominously illuminated by the light above, was a man. He wore a nicely tailored gray suit. He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair and smiled broadly.

"Ah, Tania. It is good to meet you! My name is Dr. Victor Saavik," he said. "I was hoping we could have a little chat."

"Where am I? Who are you with? What's happening?" Tania demanded.

"Ah, ah. I will be the one asking the questions," Saavik replied. His eyes roamed up and down her body. Tania, suddenly realizing that she was sitting naked in front of this stranger, blushed deep red.

"No!" she said defiantly. "I'm not telling you anything until you tell me what's going on!"

Snap! The doctor moved quick as lightning, bringing a thick cane down across the top of her thighs.

"Aiyeee!" Tania shrieked as her legs exploded in pain. The doctor glared at her.

"I'm afraid I must insist," Saavik said acidly. He took off his suit jacket and slung it over a chair behind Tania.

"Now," he said, more calmly. "Would you like to tell me what happened in Belgorod Square today?"

Tania, still recovering from the sting of the cane stroke across her thighs, stared back at Saavik in fear. "Sergei just got a little carried away. It was nothing, we-"

Snap! Snap! Snap! Saavik exploded with anger. His cane danced under the light as it fell across Tania's defenseless body over and over. "It was not nothing!" he roared. "Several of my colleagues are dead, and a dear friend of mine has been sent to the hospital because of your bomb!"

"What?!" Tania exclaimed through the agony. "No! We didn't have anything to do with the bomb!"

Snap! Snap! A pair of strikes landed across her tits. If she thought her legs hurt, it was nothing compared to this new attack.

"Enough lies," Saavik sneered. "You hear about what you have done, and now you try to change your story?"

Tania's mind was racing. She thought he was asking about Sergei throwing the brick, instead he thought she was confessing to the bombing.

"I'm not lying!" Tania insisted through her tears. "I had nothing to do with the bombing."

"This interrogation will not end until I have learned the truth," Saavik explained. "And I assure you, it will go much better for you if you cooperate." He wheeled the cart with the machine on it closer. "To that end, I have a special lie detector that will help me to sift the lies out of your confession."

Confession? Tania worried. She hadn't done anything wrong. What did he expect her to confess to? Saavik walked behind the machine and began fiddling with the dials on it. This made Tania feel a little better - she'd seen lie detectors on TV, surely his machine would show him that she was telling the truth and was innocent. Her relief was short-lived, however, as Saavik began connecting the machine.

He strung two leads to her feet and wrapped her big toes with the copper wires attached to the end. Two more cables snaked their way to her breasts, where the saw-toothed clamps snapped on to her nipples. Tania closed her eyes and moaned as her poor breasts sagged under the heavy clamps. With her eyes closed she didn't see Saavik yank a lever on the back of the chair which allowed it to tip backwards. He spun her until she was horizontal, with her ass nicely exposed by the seatless chair.

"No, please, I'll tell you the truth. I swear!" Tania begged as Saavik greased up a metal butt plug.

"I bet you will," Saavik smiled. "This will make certain of it." He forced the probe into her ass, then tipped the chair back upright. He then returned to the machine and flipped a switch. Tania could hear it hum to life and felt a static tingle in the various probes connected to her body.

Saavik pulled up a stool and sat down beside an already suffering Tania. He picked up a metal probe the size of a pencil and waved it in front of her worried eyes. "Perhaps just a little demonstration, then we can begin," he said.

In one smooth movement he took the tip of the probe and traced a line with the tip of it across her navel. Tania screamed at the top of her lungs as a white hot pain blazed a path across her skin. She felt like she was being cut with a jagged knife. The electricity crackled as it sought out a return path to the machine - via the clamps on her nipples. Her tits shook and shuddered, threatening to tear the clamps loose. He had only touched her for a second or two, but when he lifted the probe Tania was left gasping for breath and wracked by sobs.

"That was the minimum setting. I can adjust these knobs here to control how much electricity is sent, and where it will travel to," he explained as he fiddled with a few dials. "Now I believe you are ready to answer my questions."

What followed was an intense back and forth. Tania tried to tell her version of the truth, while Saavik dutifully 'corrected' her answers until they were more to his liking. He shocked her tits, her ass, her feet. His probe traced paths across her arms and legs, her face, her ass. During one particularly contentious period he donned a heavy rubber glove so that he could expose her delicate clit with one hand, while he applied his probe to it with another, holding it there for ten, twenty, thirty seconds while Tania writhed in absolute agony.

When the electricity began to be less effective on the exhausted prisoner, he would mix things up by bringing out his cane once again. Soon her tits, ass, and legs were striped with welts. Tipping her back and swinging the cane down hard onto her pussy had some especially impressive results.

Saavik was a master of his trade and soon had Tania's complete confession. She admitted to organizing the protest. She took responsibility for the bombing. She admitted to a dozen other crimes that she'd never heard of. It didn't matter that none of it was true. She betrayed the names, addresses, descriptions of her friends and family, implicating them as accomplices - anything to escape the pain of the torture that Saavik applied to her anyway.

Finally, Saavik was satisfied. He presented Tania with her confession and freed her hand briefly so that she could sign it. Then, as if a switch was flipped, the doctor was congenial and friendly. He offered her a glass of water and a little something to eat, which she gratefully accepted. And then, without any warning, he left.

Tania remained strapped to the chair, too exhausted to shiver against the cold, wondering what would happen next. After an hour or so, Saavik returned. But he wasn't alone. He had with him a short, stern woman wearing a white lab coat and carrying a tray of instruments.

"Tania," Saavik said with his signature grin, "this is Dr. Yelena Zorhof. She is here to confirm your confession. You see, we sometimes have the embarrassing problem where prisoners can't recall the details of their confession when they make it to court. Dr. Zorhof will make sure that you are indeed telling the truth. In fact, she has invented her very own truth serum that gets spectacular results. Would you care to explain how it works, doctor?"

"Yes," Dr. Zorhof said, pulling up a stool and setting her instruments down on a table. "I give you a little injection and then you tell me the truth, or else you get another injection. Very simple! Let me demonstrate." She picked up a bottle of clear liquid and stuck a syringe into it.

"No, please," Tania begged. "I'll tell you everything. No more!"

Zorhof ignored her. She jabbed the syringe into Tania's breast and depressed the plunger slightly. At first she felt nothing, but a couple of seconds after the doctor withdrew the needle Tania felt a growing burning sensation that became more and more intense. Soon it felt like her entire breast was on fire! She screamed and thrashed. The chair rattled noisily as she pulled at the restraints. After a few minutes the burning subsided enough that Dr. Zorhof could ask a question and get something other than a scream in response.

And so the interrogation began anew. Unlike Saavik, Dr. Zorhof did not ask leading questions to get Tania to the 'right' answer. She merely let the aching, terrified girl ramble on, gently 'correcting' her with little jabs of her special serum when her responses strayed too far from the tales she told Saavik. She began with injections to her breasts, then moved to her ass. By the time she had delivered half a dozen doses to her labia Tania's second confession was complete. The exhausted girl couldn't keep her hand from trembling as she signed the second document.

If she had hoped to be thrown back into her cell at the end of this latest session, then that idea was quickly dispelled as she was resecured to the chair. Saavik turned to his partner and looked at his watch. "We still have some time left," he said. "What do you say we have a little fun?"

Zorhof smiled and nodded. She tipped the chair back and slipped out of her panties, then presented her smooth, glistening pussy for Tania to lick. Meanwhile, Saavik pulled his cock out of his pants and eagerly fucked Tania's dry, swollen cunt. Little squeals of pain escaped Tania's mouth every time Zorhof lifted her sopping wet pussy from her face so that she could get air.

After the duo had been satisfied sexually, Dr. Zorhof found a large ball gag, which she forced into a terrified Tania's mouth. Then she tightened the strap around her neck. Tania's face shaded to a light red as she fought for breath through the tight grip on her throat. Now the doctors took turns - Saavik with his electric probe and Zorhof with her serum, with the cane shared equally between the two of them.

At first they started off easy (though Tania certainly didn't think so). Then the pair engaged in a friendly competition to see who get the greatest reaction out of the girl. Zorhof removed the clamps from Tania's nipples (which by itself produced a delightful reaction as the blood flowed back into her damaged buds), then, with a syringe in each hand, she injected her nipples and breasts several times in rapid succession. She next took the cane from Saavik and laid into Tania's burning breasts over and over while the toxin dissipated.

Not to be outdone, Saavik snapped the clamps back onto Tania's puffy, swollen nipples and turned his dials to the max. Tania stared transfixed as he waved the probe back and forth before her eyes, tapping here, teasing there. When he touched his probe to her clit this time Tania lost control of her bladder. Zorhof laughed as a steady stream of piss splashed down onto Saavik's fine Italian shoes.

While Saavik angrily cleaned up his footwear, Zorhof found a speculum. She slipped the instrument into Tania's dry cunt and opened it until it seemed like the girl would split in two. Then she experimented with the effects of her serum when injected directly into the walls of her vagina!

When a grumpy Saavik returned he couldn't help but explore the newly exposed real estate with his electric probe. It was when he jabbed his probe in past her cervix to zap her uterus that Tania finally could take no more and mercifully passed out.

Chapter 3 - Bad Habit

The Farm

Present Day

While Tania was relaying her tale of torment to Catherine, Sheriff Judy Spite was at that very moment inflicting her own set of torments. A beautiful young redhead named Molly was wriggling her lovely ass in front of her. The recently captured college girl was getting her first real taste of what life with Group XS was like.

She was standing with her feet shoulder width apart, her ankles shackled low to a pair of bars rising vertically out of the floor. She was bent forward at the waist over a bar connected to those uprights so that her upper body was held horizontal. Her arms were crossed in front of her waist and held tight by the black leather straight jacket that she wore. The jacket was buckled snugly around her body, with a narrow strap running down between the cleft of her buttocks, across her pussy and up to the front to help hold it in place. Two holes cut in the front of the straight jacket allowed her tits to dangle free of the leather covering.

The girls cheeks bulged beneath the black leather hood that covered her head. Her mouth had been packed with the panties that she had soiled while she had waited the twelve hours in a small cage for Sheriff Spite to arrive. That, and the chunk of leather attached to the inside of the hood made for a full mouth indeed, turning any attempted protests into muted grunts.

And Molly certainly had plenty to protest about. A pair of fierce alligator toothed nipple clamps had been snapped onto her tits. They were joined to each other by a long stretchy cord that ran through a ring in the floor. To avoid pulling on the clamps Molly had to bend as far forward as she could. But that was not as easy as it sounded because another broad stretchy strap had been wrapped around her neck and secured to the ceiling. Molly had a simple choice - bend farther forward to relieve the pull on her nipples or raise her body to relieve the pull on her throat. Based on the gagging noises she was currently making she seemed to be favoring her poor, stretched nipples.

Her sparkling green eyes pleaded with Sheriff Judy, who was currently taking a break in a comfortable chair in front of Molly, watching the lovely show that the writhing girl was putting on. The large wooden paddle she had recently been using on Molly's pale virgin ass was resting casually against the side of the chair.

Molly arched her back as severely as she could and groaned. She needed to lessen the tension on her neck so that she could get a breath of fresh air, which meant pulling harder on her tortured tits, already stretched towards the floor into tight aching cones.

"Well Molly," the sheriff said as she got up from her chair. "I really thought that the paddle would be able to make your ass as red as that beautiful hair of yours, but I guess I was wrong." She walked behind the girl and caressed her warm, pink, battered ass. "Though I'm fairly certain this will do the trick."

She took down from the wall Group XS's infamous Louisiana Prison Strap - three feet of quarter inch thick leather on a swiveling handle, designed to break even the most stubborn prisoners. Molly fervently begged for mercy. That is until the strap made its first contact across her out-thrust buttocks, then she merely screamed at the top of her lungs! Engulfed in pain, Molly lost control of the careful equilibrium she had sought to maintain between her neck and her nipples. Her shrill scream was cut off by a fit of coughing which violently jostled her chest in a way that threatened to tear the clamps free from their wicked grasp. The sheriff smiled and admired the effect that the strap had had.

Just one stroke made remarkable progress towards Sheriff Spite's evil goal, but she wasn't there yet. Whack! The next stroke tested the strength of the bonds that held poor Molly in place as the girl bucked and thrashed within her bondage. The sheriff took her time, letting Molly savor every miserable moment.

When Molly's latest screams finally settled to sobs the sheriff raised the strap once more. Molly braced herself for the impact, but it didn't land. Instead, a cheerful little ditty pierced the sounds of misery and pain that populated the dungeon.

With a sigh of annoyance Sheriff Spite draped the heavy strap across Molly's back and walked over to her jacket, which was hanging on a hook near the door. She reached into the pocket and pulled out her phone. She rolled her eyes and sighed again when she saw who was calling, then she answered.

"This is Sheriff Spite," she said, swallowing her annoyance.

"Oh, hi Mrs. O'Malley," she droned.

Molly suddenly perked up, snapping out of her haze of pain. She grunted and harrumphed as loudly as she could - which wasn't very loud at all, given her packed mouth and restricted throat.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm working on your daughter's case right now," she said with a wink at Molly.

Molly was frantic. Her muted hollering hardly carried across the room and her thrashing about only served to pull harder on her nipples and yank on her bound throat.

"Uh huh," the sheriff continued, trying hard to hide the boredom in her voice. "Yep. Yep. Uh huh." On the other end of the phone Mrs. O'Malley seemed to ramble on and on.

"Mrs. O'Malley," Sheriff Spite finally interrupted. "I really should get back to working on your daughter's case. You can rest assured that I won't stop until I have done everything I possibly can to, err, for her." She rolled her eyes at whatever the woman on the other end said. "Ok. Goodbye."

She ended the call and glared at Molly, who looked totally defeated after her failed attempts at drawing attention to her plight. "That mother of yours," she said, shaking her head. "She calls me five times a day. Maybe if she'd spent more time teaching her beautiful, young daughter not to accept rides from strangers then she wouldn't be in this situation. Instead, she chooses to be a real pain in the ass. Speaking of which..."

The sheriff turned her back to Molly and took something down from the wall. When she turned around again Molly found herself face to face with a big, knobby strap-on mounted on the woman's hips.

A few moments later, and the dungeon was filled once more with poor Molly's pitiful pained squeals.

---

Belgorod Federal Penitentiary

Two and a half years ago

The trial was open and shut. With a confession in hand the judge didn't need any more evidence. Tania was sentenced to two years in prison - a surprisingly short time considering the grave crimes she had admitted to. Perhaps it was because the judge understood that most or all of the charges were fraudulent and that Tania was merely being shunted out of the way so she wouldn't cause any more trouble for the powers that be. Nevertheless, the sentence was devastating.

Tania landed in the maximum security wing of the prison and quickly had to learn how to navigate the ins and outs of Russian jail. Some guards were kind and worked to break up the rapes and brawls that started among the prisoners. Others were indifferent and watched with amusement as they beat each other senseless. And others still were just as likely to start the trouble as the prisoners were.

Tania had heard rumors among the inmates about wild parties that some prisoners were taken to so that they could provide entertainment for the guests - horrible raucous parties that often had the returning prisoners arrive straight to the infirmary rather than back to their cells. Tania did her best to keep to herself and not draw any attention. It was a strategy that mostly worked, until one day about three months into her sentence.

She was sitting by herself in her cell when the sound of a squeaky cart approached from the end of the cellblock. The typical din of the inmates chatting or exercising or fighting ceased as the sound approached. Curious, Tania looked out from her cell at who it was that had suppressed a jail full of inmates from his mere presence. Her heart stopped when she saw the man in the finely tailored suit with salt and pepper hair, a man who had resided in her nightmares ever since she had crossed paths with him months ago - Dr. Saavik.

He stopped his squeaky cart in front of Tania's cell and said with a big smile. "Guess who's coming to a party?"

The clothes he poured out of the case were only the start of her latest nightmare. She soon found herself trussed up like a living, breathing sex doll. She was then stuffed into a tight box where she was left for hours until she was finally hauled off to Saavik's dungeon party.

It was at that party that she first met Mistress XS. The tall, statuesque woman wore a skin-tight black rubber catsuit that covered her from head to toe. Upon Tania's arrival she had set down the buggy whip she had been using on the unfortunate girl who had arrived ahead of Tania and came to greet her new toy.

"Oh, look," she said to the gathered crowd. "Dr. Saavik has brought our new fucktoy for the evening. She's kindly put on this suit so that we can all play with her ahead of tomorrow when she'll be entertaining us in different ways!"

"But don't worry, Tania darling," she said leaning over the terrified girl and whispering in her ear. "I won't punish you severely tomorrow..." She paused. "I will punish you *very* severely. By the time I'm through with you, you're going to wish you had never been born and you'll piss yourself at the sight of me entering the room!"

And she was true to her word. Tania spent the night being raped dozens of times in every hole, often serving multiple men (or women equipped with wicked dildos) at the same time. The next day Mistress XS had forced Tania to beg for punishment - which she happily delivered. A beaten and broken Tania was returned to the prison at the end of the weekend. But if she thought her first meeting with Mistress XS was bad, it was nothing compared to what happened at her next visit a couple months later:

She was standing in line at the canteen when a leather bag was suddenly yanked over her head from behind. Tania, aware that her sudden abduction could only mean one thing, kicked and screamed as her clothes were cut away. A hand reached up under the hood and crammed her panties into her mouth, sealing them in with a strip of tape. Then a longer, thicker leather bag was pulled over her hooded head and all the way down to her ankles and cinched closed. This longer bag, though, had a nasty surprise - the inside was lined with hundreds of tiny spikes!

Tania could feel herself being dragged down the hallway by her feet. She writhed about as the spikes jabbed and scraped her all over. She was taken into a side room where a dozen more straps were buckled tightly around the outside of the bag until she was completely immobilized. Each strap had been pulled as tight as possible, grinding the pins on the bag beneath deep into her flesh. She laid there in the dark, sucking air through a tiny hole in the top of her hood, trying not to move and suffer more pricks, until finally she was transported away.

When she arrived at the dungeon she was hung up by her ankles like a cut of meat. From the darkness of the bag she could see nothing, but what she heard made her tremble with fear. Amidst the background sounds of several moaning slaves there was a periodic and persistent metallic squeak, as well as a steady trickle of liquid pouring into a pool.

After a while she heard someone enter. She followed the sound of clicking heels over to the wall. A grate was pulled open and some poor soul dragged out of what was undoubtedly a cramped and uncomfortable cell.

"Please, no, mistress. Mercy. Mercy," the poor wretch begged hoarsely, her voice was muffled by something over her head.

"Tut, tut," said a voice that Tania instantly recognized as Mistress XS. "We have a special guest with us tonight and we want her to feel welcome, don't we?"

The sobbing girl was brought closer to Tania and strapped to an apparatus nearby. Then Tania felt the belts loosened from the long leather pin sack that had held her trapped since she had left the prison. After the last strap was loosened the long outer bag was slipped off over her head. She groaned as the hundreds of tiny spikes dragged across her skin one last time feeling like she was being pulled through a tube of coarse sandpaper. Unfortunately, Mistress XS made no effort to remove the stifling leather sack that remained trapped over her head. Tania could just barely detect the dim light of the dungeon where it streamed in through the airholes of her hood. She jumped as she felt Mistress XS's gloved fingers trace a path across her exposed body.

"Tania, Tania, Tania," Mistress XS said calmly. "Have you missed me since your last visit?" Tania shuddered at the memory. Mistress XS's fingers found their way to Tania's pussy and began sensually rubbing her cunt. "I honestly hadn't thought about you for a single moment - that is, until I learned something special about you after you had already left my care."

Tania squirmed under Mistress XS's tender caresses. She gently rubbed up and down her labia. She playfully probed her moistening vagina. The woman was a master of the female anatomy. She knew just where to touch to deliver the most pleasure - or pain.

"You see, my dear friend, Dr. Saavik, tells me that you were at the protest bombing in Belgorod Square a few months back. I, too, was at that protest," Tania moaned as Mistress XS's expert ministrations began to have an effect on her. She couldn't believe that she was being aroused by this monster.

"Unfortunately, while you and your friends were having a merry old time," Tania wriggled her hips, silently urging Mistress XS on, "I was not!"

At this last statement Mistress XS's voice grew cold. She pulled her slippery fingers out of Tania's wet cunt and pinched hard with her fingernails on Tania's engorged clit. Tania screamed into her panty-stuffed mouth, trying to twist away from her tormentor's vice like grip.

"Ever since that day," she continued, stepping away from Tania, "I have made it my mission to find those responsible and pay them back for the pain that they caused me." Mistress XS returned and quickly roped Tania's wrists and elbows together behind her back. "But I don't want to get even. No. I won't be happy until I've paid back my pain a thousand fold!" There was a rattle of chains. "Would you like to see what I have in store for those who have wronged me, Tania?"

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Tania pleaded, tears pouring from her eyes and soaking into the leather sack. This was a nightmare.

"Of course, you do!" she said. "But, first, I owe this other slave here a little whipping for calling me a bitch the other day. Not to worry, though, I have something to keep you occupied while you wait."

Tania shrieked as she suddenly felt a clamp snap shut onto her nipple. The flat metal tabs of the clamp were mashed together by a wickedly strong spring. No amount of flailing would shake the vicious device loose, which was unfortunate for Tania, as the clamp had a long length of chain attached to it which stretched from her nipple all the way down to the floor. Tania, ever aware that what happened to one tit usually happened to the other, twisted and struggled against her captor as she raised another matching clamp and chain. But her efforts were for naught. Mistress XS easily captured the swinging girl and attached the second biting clamp.

Tania was struggling to breathe under the fierce, crushing pain in her sensitive nipples. She reasoned that her best bet at minimizing her suffering was to hold still and let as much of the chain rest on the floor as possible. Too bad Mistress XS knew that that was exactly what Tania would want to do.

"I'm going to turn on the electricity in a second here," she said casually. "You probably don't want to leave those chains in contact with the metal plate beneath you."

Before Tania could piece together what that meant, there was a loud 'thunk' as Mistress XS threw the switch. In an instant Tania was once again writhing in pain, this time from the powerful jolt of electricity running up the chains and into her nipples!

She stiffened and screamed as the searing white hot pain blasted into her tits. Through the devastating agony she remembered what Mistress XS had just told her. Somehow she summoned the strength to tighten her abs and raise her upper body farther from the floor. As soon as the chains lifted free, the current cut off. A reeling Tania was left wracked with sobs as she struggled to hold this difficult new position.

A delighted Mistress XS turned her attention back to the slave she had just promised a whipping. "Now," she said, "how many strokes do you feel an insolent little shit like you deserves? Fifty?"

"No, please mistress! I'll be good!" the muffled slave pleaded.

"Not fifty?" Mistress XS asked thoughtfully. "Well, then I think one hundred ought to do."

"No! No!" the slave begged. "Please! You'll kill me!"

"It's no less than you deserve you worthless, sniveling cunt!" Mistress XS sneered. "Besides I've been wanting to try out my new whip. If it performs well then I'll use it on Tania later!"

Tania could hear Mistress XS uncoil her whip and walk around the bound and frightened girl. There was a loud swish and a crack, followed by the loudest, most pained scream Tania had ever heard. The poor slave hollered until her lungs were emptied of breath. She could hear the creaking of the leather straps as the girl fought uselessly against her tight restraints.

"One," Mistress XS said calmly after a moment.

Tania herself cringed as the next stroke landed and, from the sound of it, was just as devastating as the first. On and on the beating continued. Tania had a front row seat for the stuff of nightmares. Unable to see, she could only picture with her mind what was happening to the suffering slave as Mistress XS whipped her silly.

For her part, Tania had her own struggles to contend with. She'd hardly lasted more than a few minutes before her clenched abs began to waver. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold. She got her answer a moment later when her slowly sagging upper body finally dropped low enough for one of the chains to brush the floor. From within her hood Tania couldn't see the spark that jumped from the plate to the chain to her chest, but she certainly felt it. She screamed as the electricity rocketed through her body. Instinctively, she arched her back as severely as she could. Fortunately this was enough to draw the chains up, at least, for the moment.

On and on the whipping continued. Mistress XS calmly counted each stroke after it landed. Tania could hear the girl getting weaker as time went on - her screams had less vigor, and her struggles too puny to make a sound. Meanwhile, Tania alternated back and forth between tensing her abs and arching her back, receiving a nasty jolt as she transitioned from one position to the other. She was able to hold herself up for a shorter and shorter period with each transition. By the time Mistress XS was counting into the nineties Tania could do nothing more than swing herself back and forth over the electric plate. Her body stiffened with pain at the bottom of each arc as the chains brushed the floor. The nipple clamps twisted as she pulled at her aching, bruised nipples when the chains wriggled about.

"One hundred," Mistress XS said finally. The poor whipped slave had been reduced to a sobbing, blubbering wreck. There was another 'thunk' as Tania heard Mistress XS throw the switch for the electric plate. For the first time in a long while Tania could relax - at least, as much as one can relax while suspended by their ankles with their tits heavily clamped while waiting in a dungeon with a vicious sadist.

"There." Mistress XS said. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting Tania. But I believe that discipline is important to help keep unruly slaves in line, and this girl certainly needed a firm hand. Can you believe that when we brought her in that she denied having anything to do with the Belgorod protest? Even when we showed her a signed confession from her good friend, Tania Sarducci, implicating her as a ringleader in the bombing plot she still denied involvement."

What? No! Tania's mind was reeling. These monsters had captured someone based on the phony confession that Saavik and Zorhof had extracted from her?! She wracked her brain, trying to remember what she had said, who she had named.

"No matter," Mistress XS continued. "Dr. Saavik is a master at finding the truth no matter how many lies he hears first. Sadly, the judge only saw fit to give her three months in prison. Three months! After all she did! Fortunately, a friend in the Ministry of Justice was able to see to it that she was paroled into my custody. Now I am able to administer the punishment she truly deserves, and it's all thanks to you Tania."

Mistress XS turned back to the whimpering girl she'd just whipped. "What do you say, cunt? Would you like to thank Tania for putting you on the path to redemption?" Mistress XS unstrapped the beaten girl and let her crumple to the floor. "Why don't you crawl over and give her a nice kiss?"

Tania could feel Mistress XS loosening the strap that held the leather bag onto her head. It fell to the floor and Mistress XS tore the sodden panties from Tania's mouth. Tania screamed when she finally saw the condition of the whipped girl. She was completely covered in blood! Her back, her legs, her tits, her ass, practically no part of the woman's body had been spared the touch of the whip. Her skin had been practically shredded, the girl was unrecognizable. On her head she wore a sturdy iron cage, with plates shaped in the likeness of her head.

Mistress XS prodded the girl curled up on the floor with the toe of her boot. "Come now," she said. "Give Tania a kiss. Unless you'd rather I give you a few more strokes with my new whip instead."

The threat spurred the bloodied girl into movement. She dragged herself across the floor towards Tania, her heavy iron head cage dragging the whole way. When she got beneath her suspended friend she lifted her head with great effort. It was then that Tania was able to see the soulful blue eyes that gazed back at her from between the eye holes of the awful metal helmet and she instantly knew who it was.

"Nadia!" Tania exclaimed. "Oh Nadia, I'm so sorry!"

"You don't know the meaning of the word sorry," Mistress XS sneered. "But you will, soon enough."

Nadia brought her face up close to Tania's and pressed her lips through the small hole in front of her mouth. Tania felt the cool metal press against her face as Nadia leaned in. Still in a state of shock, Tania mindlessly kissed back as her best friend touched her lips to hers.

"Very nice," Mistress XS remarked. "Did you know that Nadia was still a virgin when we brought her in? Well, Dr. Saavik quickly took care of that. In fact, she's probably seen more cock in the past few weeks than most girls see in a lifetime! She's even tried her hand with a few of the ladies as well."

Tania gazed sorrowfully at the tortured heap that had collapsed back to the floor. Poor, innocent Nadia. She'd been saving herself for 'the right man'. Now she'd been captured by these horrible people and it was all her fault.

"Normally after such a severe whipping I'd let a slave think about what she'd done with a nice long stay in a tight bondage bag while she recovered," Mistress XS explained. "But I bet Nadia wants you to see how she's become a first class fuck slut under my tutelage. Let's get you ready, Nadia."

She went to a shelf and took down a big jar of something. She thrust in a gloved hand and smeared a gob of it over Nadia's shredded back. The exhausted girl found new life, howling and cringing, as her mistress smeared her wounds with the strong smelling goop.

"Relax," Mistress XS admonished. "It's just disinfectant. We don't want you to get a nasty bug, do we? Though I think Dr. Zorhof may have mixed in some chili extract to give it a little extra kick!"

Once Nadia had been completely covered with the sticky, burning substance - with Mistress XS taking special care to work the goop deep into her vagina and asshole, even though the whip had never reached so far into either - she began to squeeze Nadia into a tight black rubber bodysuit.

While that happened Tania took the opportunity to look around the dungeon from her inverted position right in the middle of it. What she saw made her feel nauseous. There were instruments of torture everywhere - whips, chains, clamps, canes, racks, cages, and more. But most disturbing of all was the scene playing out over on one side of the dungeon.

There were two women standing on either end of a teeter totter. The fulcrum that held the narrow, bobbing plank was not positioned directly in the middle. On the longer end, the plank seemed to be attached between the legs of the girl who was alternating between standing and squatting. Because of the off-center fulcrum, her large up and down movements translated into a relatively smaller up and down movement on the opposite end. On that shorter end stood a girl bound to a frame which held her over the bobbing plank, which, at that end held a long metal dildo!

Tania watched over several cycles as the dildo started down low, then buried itself deep, deep into the girl's cunt, then reversed course and came all the way out again. There was a short cone-shaped guide mounted between the girl's long legs to make sure that the dildo was directed into her pussy with each and every pump. For her part, the girl receiving the dildo was doing her very best to stand up on her tiptoes, the only freedom of movement that the frame which held her allowed. Given the length of the dildo and how far it penetrated her defenseless hole, standing on tiptoe seemed entirely necessary to keep the hard cock from slamming into her cervix.

The girl receiving the slow and steady fucking was unrecognizable. She was covered from head to toe with a heavy rubber bodysuit - the same style as Mistress XS was now stuffing Nadia into. On her head she wore a thick hood, entirely featureless except for an inflator bag that dangled from the front, inflating in time with the pumping of the dildo. A tight posture collar kept her head up and helped to stifle the pained grunt that accompanied each hard, deep penetration.

On the other end of the seesaw, the girl moving up and down was indifferent or perhaps unaware of the unceasing rape that she perpetrated against her companion - she had her own struggles to contend with. She was dressed as a fetishized schoolgirl, her pleated plaid skirt didn't even reach down to her pussy. She teetered on six inch heels that wouldn't have been appropriate in any school in the world. Beneath her thigh high white stockings Nadia could see the telltale bruises on the backs of the girls legs that suggested she'd recently received a nasty caning. Her arms had been twisted up behind her back into a reverse prayer, the coarse hemp rope wrapped from her wrists up to her neck several times, pulling harshly on her windpipe if she didn't do her best to arch her back and stretch her wrists up high. A jawbreaking gag had been strapped into her mouth. From the gagging sounds the struggling girl was making, it seemed that the item reached far enough back to trigger her gag reflex every so often. A padded leather blindfold helped keep the girl in the dark.

Keeping the girl attached to the plank was a pair of inflatable dildos jutting up from it. Tania couldn't see their size, just the inflator bulbs dangling down below. But knowing Mistress XS she was sure that each dildo had been inflated to its absolute maximum!

As bad as this bondage was, the worst by far was her tits. They spilled out of her white school blouse and each was wrapped tightly at its base by more hemp rope. The surplus rope from this tie extended loosely around her tits a few more times and then up and forward from the schoolgirl, through a loop near the ceiling, and down to a large bucket that dangled near head height a few feet in front of her. Her tits had colored a light purple from the tight tie and bore more of the telltale cane marks across their tops. Her tits were currently yanked up and away from her chest by the five gallon bucket tied to them. The bucket hung taut from the line, belying the hefty weight within. There was a wire mesh shelf beneath the bucket which allowed it to rest when the schoolgirl was near the top of her path - though rather than providing relief this simply meant that she was forced to constantly lift and lower the heavy bucket, causing the ropes around her tits to rub and chafe the flesh beneath with every up and down.

As Tania studied the girl her eye caught a telltale tattoo of a cute little mouse on the girl's wrist. She knew that tattoo!

"Natasha!" she cried out at the sight of her good friend. The schoolgirl stiffened at the sound of her name, the break in her stride caused the heavy bucket to wobble.

"Ah, so you've guessed another," Mistress XS said. "Naughty Natasha refused to admit that she had any part in the Belgorod plot. She insisted to us that she's just a simple college girl. Lucky for her, Dr. Saavik just loves schoolgirls and has agreed to take over her education. He is giving her daily lessons!"

Tania looked in despair back at her poor friend, still devotedly bobbing up and down. At first she wondered why Natasha didn't simply rest the bucket on the shelf and refuse to play Mistress XS's wicked game, then she realized why. There was a third participant in this scene, less visible than the other two. Beneath the mesh shelf that supported the bucket there was a metal grate in the floor. It was set in a small depression so that any liquid in the area would drain into it, and indeed it had. The pit beneath the grate seemed to be filled with water, or some sort of liquid at least. And, to Tania's horror, she saw that the pit was occupied by another slave. The poor girl had her face pressed up against the grate in an effort to keep her nose and ring-gagged mouth above the waterline. The seesaw was apparently connected to a pump operated by the up and down motion of the plank. As long as Natasha kept moving, water would be drained from the pit. Unfortunately the pump deposited the evacuated liquid up into the bucket attached to her tied tits - the more she pumped, the heavier the bucket got. To balance this out, and keep Natasha going, there was a hole drilled into the bottom of the bucket which slowly drained the water back down into the pit.

It was up to the unfortunate Natasha to keep bobbing up and down to operate the pump so that the water would not rise above the grate and drown the occupant of the pit. Though if she pumped too enthusiastically then she added additional weight to her own aching tits. The blindfolded schoolgirl had to find the balance between torturing herself and drowning her friend, which she could only do by judging the weight on her tits against the panicked gargles coming from below.

Tania watched this sick scene for several minutes. Natasha moved up, sighing slightly as the heavy bucket came to rest on the shelf and the long metal dildo slid out of the pussy of the girl across from her. Then Natasha moved down, groaning as the ropes tightened around her tits when the bucket lifted. This was matched by a grunt from the rubber bound slave as the dildo slammed into her cunt. The reward for the schoolgirl was a small spurt of liquid into the bucket from the pump. This only barely offset the amount that had dribbled out of the hole in the bottom during the sequence.

Up and down. Up and down. Over and over and over. The fulcrum squeaked as the schoolgirl hit her apex each time. The sound suddenly reminded Tania that she had been hearing it and the trickle of water ever since she had been placed in this dungeon hours ago! This cruel predicament had been going on for at least that long, and possibly for hours before then too!

Tania looked at the slaves in a new light. The rubber slave's battered red pussy was her only visible flesh, but her legs trembled as she struggled to keep up on her toes to lessen the pounding. Natasha's tits flared red beneath the coarse ropes that continually tightened and loosened. Her legs, too, trembled and burned as she maintained the steady up and down required by her duty. The girl in the pit kept her face mashed against the grate, in perpetual fear of the water rising over her face and drowning her in filth.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Mistress XS said, snapping Tania out of her horrified stare. She had finished dressing Nadia in a tight rubber bodysuit. "If I rotate them a couple times a day then I can keep them going indefinitely. The rubber pup can even get a little sleep as long as she doesn't mind a hard cock banging away in her pussy now and then. Or I can swap someone else in to the rotation so that a deserving slave can get some more... personal attention."

"Why don't we do that now, so that you can meet the rest of the girls that you have doomed with your betrayal?" she suggested.

She grabbed Nadia by the back of her neck and hauled the kneeling girl upright. Nadia nearly toppled over as she rose to her feet as, unlike the other rubber slave who wore nothing over her rubber-covered feet, she struggled to maintain her balance on the ballet boots that her feet had been jammed into. With all the care of an angry teacher dealing with a petulant child, Mistress XS dragged Nadia to the short end of the plank. She ordered Nadia to stand there while she loosened the straps that held the other rubber slave in place. Once that girl was free Mistress XS quickly swapped her position with Nadia. The exhausted rubber slave promptly collapsed to the floor upon being freed. She was immediately admonished by an angry Mistress XS.

"Who the fuck said you could lay down, slave?" she snapped. "Get up! Stand at attention!"

The overfucked rubber pup struggled back to her feet, her fluttering rebreather bag betrayed her fear and exhaustion. She stood up straight backed, chest out, with her hands behind her head, elbows out, and feet slightly parted. Tania could see the girl's swollen red cunt peeking out from between her legs. Satisfied, Mistress XS resumed strapping Nadia in place above the teeter totter.

Even with the ballet boots, Nadia wasn't as tall as the long-legged rubber slave who had occupied the position before her. As such, there was little that she could do to lessen the depth of the metal dildo as it slammed into her cunt. Mistress XS took a step back and smiled as she watched poor Nadia suffer the unending rise and fall of the dildo, moaning with every thrust. Eventually she turned back to Tania as she walked behind the rubber slave standing at attention.

"So have you figured out who this long-legged beauty is?" she asked. "No? How about a hint - she once dreamed of being a dancer, now the only dancing she does is under the touch of my whip!"

It suddenly dawned on Tania and a look of horrified realization appeared on her face. Sofia?! No! It couldn't be! She had just recently been accepted for a study program at the Bolshoi Ballet. Sofia was her neighbor across the hall, whom Tania had convinced to come to the protest at the last minute.

"Ah, so you do recognize her," Mistress XS teased. "Sofia has been surprisingly popular ever since she arrived here. Something about a graceful ballerina really appeals to some people. I prefer a girl with bigger tits, myself." She emphasized the last statement by reaching up from behind Sofia and roughly mauling her small tits - made smaller by the tight rubber bodysuit she wore and, unknown to Tania, the pin-studded bra she wore underneath.

Despite her mistress's rough touch Sofia maintained her rigid pose, too afraid to move and provoke the ire of her tormentor. Mistress XS reached up and detached the rebreather bag from the front of the girl's hood. As soon as she did so the girl immediately gulped down the fresh air that had been denied her for hours. Then Mistress XS began undoing the buckles holding her cruel hood and collar. She pulled it free and Tania looked at the frightened, crying girl.

"That's better, isn't it?" Mistress XS said tenderly.  "You've had a hard day. I bet you'd like to curl up in a nice bath, wouldn't you?"

She guided the long-legged beauty forward. Sofia produced fresh tears as she realized her next destination. "You know," Mistress XS said casually. "I haven't tried to fit two girls in here at once before. That seems like it might be fun. Unfortunately, I bet Tania would like to meet the current occupant of the pit, so we'll have to try it another time." She leaned down and unlocked the heavy grate that was resting a mere inch above the putrid pit of water. The woman within immediately pushed her head up out of the filthy liquid. Not for the last time, Tania screamed in shock.

"Anya! No! You can't!" Tania yelled, at a loss for words as Mistress XS beckoned her older sister out of the disgusting pit. "Let her go! Let her go!"

"Now why would we do that after all the trouble we went through to bring her here?" Mistress XS replied as she shackled Sofia's hands together behind her back, worked a large ring gag into her mouth, and directed her into the vacant pit. "We had to bring her all the way from St. Petersburg. She claimed she wasn't even at the Belgorod protest, and yet, after several doses of Dr. Zorhof's truth serum she soon sang a different tune."

Mistress XS leaned down and locked the grate in place over a struggling Sofia. The taller girl displaced more water than Anya did, so the water came up almost to the bars. Her gurgling protest urged Natasha to pump a little faster to drain more water, much to her and Nadia's dismay.

Anya, having climbed out of the pit, had assumed a worshipful pose at Mistress XS's feet - kneeling, with her forehead pressed to the floor, cuffed arms behind her back. She wore a skintight latex bodysuit that covered her from head to toe, only her weeping blue eyes and wide gagged mouth showed beneath.

"Anya has spent the most time with us from among your co-conspirators," Mistress XS explained. "She just begged over and over for us to punish her for her crimes, so we didn't even bother sending her to trial. We brought her here directly."

Mistress XS motioned for Anya to roll onto her back, careful not to touch the filthy girl as the pit water slowly rolled off of her and back towards the depression in the floor. Then she had the terrified girl slide back until she was on a part of the floor with several shackles set into the concrete.

"I think she's been looking a little too skinny these past few weeks," Mistress XS said as she leaned down and began locking Anya in place on the floor. "Of course that tends to happen when your diet consists mostly of human shit and dog food, right?"

Mistress XS pulled Anya's arms up over her head and locked them into manacles embedded in the concrete. Then she took a leather strap and ran it across the girl's stomach. Finally, she took each ankle and pulled it out to either side and fixed it in a manacle so that now Anya was trapped laying on her back with legs spread wide. Tania could see Anya's stretched legs straining against the tight latex bodysuit that enclosed her. The bodysuit had a strap that ran across Anya's crotch. Mistress XS bent down and undid the strap. Anya moaned in relief as two large knobby dildos were yanked free from her pussy and ass and then tossed to the floor.

"Do you suppose anyone might have an idea on how to help poor Anya fill out a little?" Mistress XS asked innocently.

"I might have a few ideas," a new voice said from behind Tania. The suspended girl whipped her head around and saw the new visitor - someone she knew far too well already - Dr. Zorhof!

"Nnngh! Nnngh!" Anya begged as Dr. Zorhof approached. Clearly she was familiar with the doctor's work as well.

"Leave her alone, you psychopath!" Tania cried out. The two wicked women turned and stared daggers at Tania.

"Oh? Is little sister jealous of the attention that big sister is getting?" Dr. Zorhof asked. "Fair enough. Maybe I have an extra little punishment that I give to both of you before I get started. I will give you a taste first, so that you can have a better idea of what your sister is feeling." She reached into the satchel that she had brought with her and pulled out a syringe and a vial. "Mistress XS, would you be so kind as to gag Tania? I suspect she may get a little noisy."

Mistress XS smiled and found her favorite "choke gag" - a long rubber bulb that she strapped into Tania's mouth. It reached just shy of triggering Tania's gag reflex, however, if the wearer were to bite down on the rubber bulb it would expand backwards into her throat.

Tania begged and pleaded with Dr. Zorhof as the evil woman approached her, needle in hand. The sadistic doctor stepped up in front of Tania and smiled. She moved her foot forward and stepped on the ends of the chains that were connected to Tania's nipple clamps. Then she pinched one of Tania's labia between her fingers and jabbed in the needle. The needle piercing her sensitive flesh was bad enough, but as soon as Dr. Zorhof depressed the plunger an intense burning sensation immediately took over.

Tania howled in pain. She reflexively tried to thrash about, but this only served to yank hard on her nipple clamps that were tethered to the floor via Dr. Zorhof's foot. Her frantic complaints quickly morphed into a fit of coughs as the choke gag expanded under her pained grimace.

"Oooh, I think she likes it," Dr. Zorhof remarked with an evil laugh. She pinched Tania's labia on the other side and repeated the injection with similar results.

"Well if you liked that, then you'll love this," Dr. Zorhof said, thoroughly enjoying the agony she was inflicting.

Tania felt Dr. Zorhof's fingers exploring her pussy, trying to get good grip on the writhing girl's clitoris. When Tania felt Dr. Zorhof grab hold, she froze. The raging inferno burning in her pussy lips was nothing compared to the fear of Dr. Zorhof's toxin in her most sensitive of places. She tried her best to plead for mercy, but was only rewarded with more choking jabs from the gag. As the needle plunged in it was as if all sound had left the room. No one else was present. The entire universe at that point consisted only of Tania, Dr. Zorhof, and the syringe. Then, as the toxin entered her clit, the whole weight of the world came crashing back in an instant as a white hot explosion centered directly on her pussy erupted. Tania shrieked and shrieked. She thrashed about so hard that the chains slipped out from underneath Dr. Zorhof's foot and whipped around her in a blur. Mistress XS and Dr. Zorhof stepped back away from their raging, flailing victim.

The pain was so intense that Tania lost control of her bladder. A torrent of piss came blasting out of her, running down her inverted body, past her thrashing tits, and soaking into her hair.

Mistress XS gently stroked her own pussy as she watched Tania's suffering cunt swell. Dr. Zorhof returned to her vial for more toxin. Tania settled just a little as the initial raging inferno lessened as it spread throughout her pussy. Someone walked up behind her and she was swallowed up in a warm embrace. A man's hands gently stroked her trembling thighs and hugged her against his soft, warm clothing. Tania drank up the minor display of empathy like water in a desert.

"Ah, Dr. Saavik, I'm glad you could finally join us," Mistress XS purred to the latest attendee. Tania stiffened, regaining all her fear. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel her pulse in her ears.

"You know me," Saavik said. "I'm a slave to my work. So what's going on here?"

"Dr. Zorhof was just giving Tania a little taste of what's in store for her sister, Anya," Mistress XS explained. "Could you perhaps assist me in moving Tania to a better place to watch while Dr. Zorhof does her magic?"

"Gladly," Dr. Saavik said. He swiftly freed Tania's arms from their bondage and then released her ankles, dumping her to the floor. Tania's head swam as she was pulled upright for the first time in hours. She was guided by Mistress XS and Dr. Saavik between two upright wooden posts. Her wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles were belted, one each, onto the posts so that she was now standing with her legs awkwardly spread. Only then were the harsh nipple clamps and their accompanying chains removed. Tania reflexively tested the strength of her bonds as the blood flowed back into her abused nipples and they blossomed in pain.

Meanwhile, Dr. Zorhof had begun her injections into Anya's pussy. The girl screamed and thrashed almost as viciously as Tania had. It seemed as if she might dislocate her hips the way she writhed about. Unfortunately for Anya, Dr. Zorhof didn't stop at injecting her labia and clit. She also gave the shrieking woman a jab each into her nipples and half a dozen pricks into her tits, poking right through the latex bodysuit and the pin bra that she wore.

"Now, if there are no more interruptions, perhaps we can begin?" Dr. Zorhof said pointedly to Tania.

Begin? Tania wondered unhappily. The flaming agony that she and her sister felt wasn't even the beginning?

Satisfied that there would be no more interruptions, Dr. Zorhof began gathering supplies. "Since Mistress XS says that Anya is too skinny, I think we should do something to fill her out, yes?" she said as she worked. "The serum is a good start." She brushed her fingers across the girl's puffy red clit and cunt lips. "I bet those titties have swollen very nicely in her pin bra. But we should be more thorough."

Dr. Zorhof took a stubby inflatable butt plug and inserted it into Anya's asshole, still gaping from the large dildo she'd had in there before. The doctor pumped it up. The plug expanded in diameter more than in length, stretching Anya's aching butthole and ensuring that it wouldn't come out. Then Dr. Zorhof took a large bag of ice water out of a refrigerator and hung it high overhead. She connected it to a hose sticking out of the butt plug and released the valve to allow a slow trickle to start flowing.

"We can do more if we fill her slowly," Dr. Zorhof explained. Anya moaned as the freezing cold water entered her ass. "But there are other areas we can focus on in the meantime."

With the skill of an experienced medical professional, she slid a catheter into Anya's urethra. Then she removed a large plunger of something from the refrigerator. She connected the tip to the catheter and squeezed liquid up into Anya's bladder. She didn't stop until the girl's moans increased in intensity (and even then she gave it another little extra squeeze).

"This substance will expand as it warms to her body temperature. The ice water enema will help to keep it from increasing too quickly. If she thinks she's full now then she is going to be absolutely bursting in a little while."

Now the doctor acquired a speculum and spread open Anya's aching red pussy. The doctor then reached into her satchel and pulled out the largest syringe Tania had ever seen. "Now for some nutrient paste to keep her nice and healthy. This is admittedly not the most effective place for it, but it gets absorbed by her body all the same."

Anya screamed louder than ever when Dr. Zorhof slowly and carefully guided the syringe through her cervix and up into her womb. The frantic woman was howling in agony and banging her head against the floor as the doctor gradually emptied the syringe. Dr. Saavik put an end to her headbanging with a strap across her forehead while Zorhof pulled out the syringe and removed the speculum.

"Just one more thing and she'll be a nice, plump little slave in no time," Zorhof announced. She found a long narrow tube and walked up to Anya's restrained head. She poked the tube at the back of the suffering girl's throat, eliciting a gag.

"Swallow," Zorhof ordered. Anya resisted. An angry Zorhof pressed down on the slave's full bladder, drawing a plaintive wail. Zorhof put the tube to her throat again. "Swallow!" she said more sternly. This time Anya complied, choking and gagging as the tube snaked its way deeper and deeper down her esophagus. When Zorhof was finally happy with its depth she hooked another bag of ice water to this tube and set it to a trickle.

Anya was now bound to the floor, legs spread wide with a slow stream of ice water gradually filling her stomach and ass. Her bladder had been pumped full of a substance that would expand over time. Her womb had also been stuffed. Her tits and cunt had been injected with a noxious toxin that left them swollen and burning. Tania watched the scene with sickening fascination. Her poor suffering sister got wrapped up in this all because of her. The mental torture she endured nearly equaled the physical torment she was experiencing.

"Now we wait," Dr. Zorhof said.

"But what shall we do in the meantime?" Saavik wondered.

The trio turned nearly in unison to Tania. "I did promise Tania that she could try my new whip," Mistress XS suggested.

Tania, remembering the beaten and bloodied Nadia from earlier, frantically begged for mercy. She hadn't seen the whipping, but my, how she had screamed. Tears poured down Tania's cheeks. Mistress XS approached and gently rubbed her tears away.

"Aw, poor baby," she pouted. "Do you feel like you've had enough fun already today?"

Tania nodded weakly.

"I tell you what," Mistress XS said. "Nadia had one hundred strokes earlier. So how about you just get fifty..." She paused. "From each of us!"

One hundred and fifty strokes! Surely they couldn't be serious! She'd die. She'd be torn to shreds. Mistress XS marched over to the sobbing, terrified girl and grabbed her face in her hand, forcing Tania to look her in the eye.

"I bet you think I'm being unfair," she spat. "Was it fair when you and your friends blew up the limo I was riding in? I spent a week in the hospital recovering. Would you like to see the scar you gave me?"

She released Tania's face and slightly lifted the latex half-hood on her own face, revealing a long, soft, pink scar on her cheek. In all honesty it wasn't very noticeable, and could probably even be covered up with makeup. But that didn't matter to Mistress XS. She felt she had been wronged and was determined to have her revenge. She pulled her hood back down.

"Would you like to choose who goes first?" Mistress XS offered. Tania was crying inconsolably. "No? Well I just so happen to have three whips. We can take turns."

Tania was so lost in the fear of what was to come that she didn't even see the first strike land, but she certainly felt it! A blazing streak of pure pain blazed across her back as the whip fell. Tania hardly stopped screaming before the next strike cut across her chest. Then the blows seemed to come from everywhere all at once. Between the three of them the whip hit from every angle, on every inch of exposed flesh until Tania literally screamed herself hoarse. She twisted and turned as much as her bonds would allow, but this only exposed more flesh for the whips. No one seemed bothered to count the strikes. The trio was lost in their bloodlust. They didn't stop until Tania was simply too weak to respond to any further blows.

When the whipping finally ended a nearly catatonic Tania was taken down from the whipping post. Her wounds were treated and she was strapped into a bottomless wooden chair after being dressed in a rubber bondage suit just like Nadia's. Speaking of whom, the trio, now that they had temporarily had their fill of violence, decided to sate their lust using the poor girl.

Nadia was given temporary reprieve from the relentless battering of the seesaw so that she could alternate between licking Mistress XS's pussy and Dr. Zorhof's. Her little pink tongue darted out from the hole in the front of her iron mask as she did her best to please the women who threatened her with further punishments. Saavik, meanwhile, busied himself with fucking first her aching pussy and then her puckered asshole. When they tired of her she was returned to the teeter totter and they left to take a break.

Nearly an hour later the trio of terror came back. Tania was just coming out of her haze of pain. She hurt everywhere and seemed to emit a near continuous moan. The more urgent distressing sounds were coming from Anya, however.

In the time since Dr. Zorhof had started the trickle of cold water into her ass and gut, the flow had not stopped. Her abdomen was now swollen like she was pregnant, bulging out on either side of the leather strap that ran across her waist. The tight latex bodysuit that she wore had only grown tighter with time. It seemed to stretch so thin in places that it was starting to appear translucent. Anya was beset by constant cramps and aches. Her plaintive moans echoed through the room, interrupted only by the occasional retching sounds she made as her weakened body tried and failed to expel the liquids that filled her to the utmost.

"Oh, she looks so plump and healthy now," Dr. Zorhof remarked joyfully when she saw Anya. "Why, I bet you've got nearly a gallon each in your ass and your stomach!" The cruel doctor reached up and squeezed the enema bag, forcing more liquid through the hose. Anya's cries of distress increased in intensity. "Hmm, this water is not so cold any more. I'm guessing the compound I squirted into your bladder has expanded quite a bit. You must feel so full now!"

"And look at how tightly her skin is stretched," Mistress XS added enthusiastically. Thud! She snapped a cane down across Anya's distended stomach. The girl shrieked in pain. "I can play her like a drum." She gave Anya a few more whacks. The girl writhed within her bonds.

Tania watched as the trio tortured her poor sister. She felt like she had to do something, but she was helpless to do anything at all. When she saw Dr. Zorhof go to her satchel and withdraw her syringe and serum, though, she couldn't take any more. She yelled into her gag as loud as her hoarse voice would allow. She shook and rattled her bonds until the chair she was strapped to squeaked loudly enough to draw their attention.

"Oh," Mistress XS said, turning. "It looks like little sister is getting jealous of all the attention Anya is getting again. Well don't worry, sweetie, I bet we can come up with some more fun for you."

Tania's heart raced with fear. She surely didn't want to draw the sadists' attention to herself, she was merely reacting to the awful sight of her sister in distress and wanted to stop it any way she could. But now Mistress XS descended on her like a hungry lion.

"Dr. Zorhof," she asked, "did you happen to bring any Compound X and Compound Y with you today?"

"Of course," Dr. Zorhof answered.

"Could you prepare sweet Anya's face with the Compound Y?" Mistress XS said.

"Gladly," Zorhof chirped. She pulled out a tub and began slathering Anya's anguished face with a clear gel that glistened under the light. Mistress XS dipped her finger into the tub and smeared a small dab on the back of Tania's hand.

"This is Compound Y," she explained. Tania looked down at the small dab of gel on her hand. The area it covered soon felt like it was being pricked with pins and needles. "And this is Compound X," she said as Zorhof handed her a large jug filled with cloudy white liquid. She dipped her latex covered finger in the jug and splashed a drop on the back of Tania's other hand. Tania immediately felt an intense itching sensation where Compound X had touched.

"Two perfectly mild chemical irritants," Mistress XS. "Until they meet, then..." She took another drop of X and dribbled it onto the Compound Y. Tania screamed as it felt like she'd been splashed with red hot lava! The compound fizzled and bubbled. A terrible scent filled her nostrils. Tania flailed her hand about, trying to extinguish the invisible flames that seared her hand.

"Quite remarkable. They make the nerve endings in your skin go nuts, but when the effect wears off it leaves no permanent damage." Mistress XS looked down at Anya, then back at Tania with a wicked smile. She took a large plunger and filled it with Compound Y, then knelt down beneath the bottomless 'seat' of the chair Tania occupied.

Tania begged and pleaded. Mistress XS inserted the plunger into her asshole and squeezed all of the Compound Y inside. Tania wailed as it felt like her ass had been invaded by a million angry ants. Mistress XS withdrew the plunger, and with the help of Saavik, the two dragged Tania's chair until the bloated and suffering Anya was staring up at her little sister's twitching anus.

"I wonder," Mistress XS mused. "Was Anya a good sister to you growing up? I think we'll find out."

The sisters were left alone to suffer. Tania summoned super human strength to keep her asshole clenched tight, resisting the overpowering urge to expel the chemical that itched so intensely inside her. Anya, with a front row seat to her impending doom, stared intently at the pulsating orifice positioned above her head. She encouraged her little sister on between moans caused by the intense cramps that beset her overfilled body. Over the next hour the itching gradually abated. Tania quietly sobbed to herself, overcome by all the pain and suffering she and her friends had encountered.

After another hour Dr. Zorhof reappeared, syringe in hand. Always one to find a way to make things worse for her victims, Dr. Zorhof prepared to reapply an even larger dose of burning serum to both Anya's and Tania's pussies. Under the intense pain, Tania could no longer hold out. When the needle plunged into her clit, her ass absolutely erupted, expelling all the Compound Y out and down onto Anya's screaming face. Tania's horror at what she'd done broke through the agony of her flaming cunt. She waited to hear the sizzling of the combined chemicals. She waited for the intensity of Anya's screams to increase. She waited for the awful smell. But that didn't happen.

"Oh, didn't anyone tell you?" Dr. Zorhof chuckled. "Compound X evaporates fairly quickly. You probably could have done that hours ago. Silly girls."

Dr. Saavik appeared a few minutes later, explaining that schoolgirl Natasha was due for her 'lessons'. It was then that they decided that the bloated Anya was looking a little too chubby now, and could benefit from some exercise. The weakened girl was stood up and brought over near the pit so that she could expel the contents of her ass and bladder onto Nadia's upturned face. Her stomach still swelled from the copious amounts of water she had drunk, but they figured she'd pass that eventually as it worked its way through her body. Unfortunately for Anya, before she was mounted on the long end of the seesaw, her urethra was stoppered up with a piss plug ensuring that her bladder would be quite full by the time she was finally relieved. Schoolgirl Natasha, meanwhile, was led away on wobbly legs by Saavik, looking like a condemned prisoner being taken to the gallows.

For the rest of her cursed stay with Mistress XS and her doctor friends, Tania got a chance to try out each of the positions of the eternally pumping teeter totter. When she was finally packed up to be returned to the prison Mistress XS leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"I hope you had a good time with us this weekend, Tania. Just imagine, once you're paroled into our custody we can have fun like this every day! So do stay on your best behavior in prison - maybe then you'll get released early and can join us even sooner!"

Chapter 4 - One Fine Day

ICE Detention Center

Present Day

Catherine Grace sat quietly, taking copious notes as Tania relayed her tales of the horrors she experienced in Russia. It was worse than she ever could have imagined - the rapes, the tortures, the mental torment - she was absolutely fascinated. She couldn't help but imagine herself in the same situation. What would it be like to be so helpless, so afraid, so vulnerable? She flushed with embarrassment as she realized her thoughts were turning her on! She'd always had a strong submissive streak, and though she'd never want to experience anything remotely similar to what Tania endured, she often fantasized about being abducted and forced to perform as a sex slave for a sexy masked mistress.

Tania's story also got the wheels turning regarding her own work in the justice system. One of the local prisons that held the people she prosecuted seemed to have a higher than normal rate of parolees (pretty young women especially) who just dropped off the map as soon as they were released. Surely nothing like a rogue FSB cell could happen in America, she thought, but maybe there were some lessons to be learned from what Tania had to say.

She needed to take all this back to her office and think on it. "Thank you so much for telling me your story, Tania," she said. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you don't get sent back to Russia. I need to process everything you told me. Is it ok if I come back to talk to you some more?"

Tania nodded and wiped away the tears she had shed. Catherine gave her a long, warm hug and told her again that everything would be all right. Then scooped up her notes and left.

---

Meanwhile at the Farm, Molly O'Malley was walking stiffly back to her cage for the night. Stiffly because she still had Sheriff Spite's big, knobby eight inch long dildo embedded in her ass. After the sheriff had given Molly a good thorough reaming with the strap-on she had detached it from her hips and used the crotch strap from Molly's straight jacket to hold the dildo in place.

Fortunately, the crotch strap was narrow enough that it ran neatly between Molly's soft, round butt cheeks and didn't interfere with the paddling Molly got afterward. Sheriff Spite was indeed correct that the famed Louisiana Prison Strap was plenty capable of making Molly's ass as red as her hair. As it happened, the stroke that achieved the final result was also the one where Molly bucked so hard that she finally managed to snap the nipple clamps off of her stretched and abused tits.

To celebrate Sheriff Spite's accomplishment, Molly gratefully 'offered' to lick her mistress' pussy while the police officer processed all the paperwork that her missing person case seemed to generate. Molly spent the better part of an hour with her face buried between the sheriff's thick thighs, alternating between trying to stick her tongue as far up Sheriff Spite's cunt as possible, lapping up the woman's copious amounts of pussy juice, and fighting for air when the horny sheriff clamped her legs around Molly's head and humped her like mad.

But now it was time to call it a day and head back to the station. Sheriff Judy opened the door to the cramped cage. "In you go," she said with a pat on Molly's battered booty. The redhead squealed from the contract on her reddened ass, which was quickly transitioning to black and blue. Her mouth had once again been packed full with a pair of panties, this time the sheriff's.

Molly turned around and backed into the low cage. There was a gap in the top through which her neck would fit, leaving her head sticking out the top. The bottom of the cage held a raised studded plate, just perfect to make a girl with a sore bottom miserable. The plate was held above the lower bars of the cage on a single support with a ball and cup connector which caused the plate to wobble unsteadily if she shifted her weight.

With Molly in position the sheriff closed the cage. The two sides closed around her slender neck, and her legs dangled out between the bars in the front. As the sheriff yanked on the chains to haul the cage up into the air Molly realized just how precarious her position was. The unsteady base upon which she sat easily tipped this way and that, causing her bruised butt to painfully slide across the studded plate. She might have been satisfied to let the plate tip all the way in one direction and settle in like that, however, the cage bars around her neck were just high enough that unless she sat perfectly balanced in the middle, she'd be hanging by her neck.

The sheriff stepped back and smiled as she watched Molly struggle. "Have a good night," she teased. As she put on her jacket, her cheerful chirpy ringtone went off once again. Sheriff Spite looked down at the caller ID and frowned. She declined the call and stared back at Molly. "If that mother of yours calls me one more time tonight, I'm going to whip the skin off your tits tomorrow."

Molly stared back at the sheriff in wide-eyed terror. "Mmmph, mmmph," she protested.

The sheriff turned out the lights and locked the door behind her, whistling the same cherry tune as her ringtone.

Chapter 5 - Dog Eat Dog

ICE Detention Center

Present Day

Catherine could think of nothing else but Tania's story the next day at work. She didn't have much to go on, just a few names and descriptions of people and places in a part of the world that she'd never been to. Nevertheless, she called in every favor she had to try and dig up something, anything, to help Tania. She had also contacted an immigration lawyer friend to get started on Tania's asylum application.

But Catherine had to know more. Her curiosity drew her back to Tania. She wanted more information, more stories, and (ashamedly) more fuel for her own erotic fantasies that had played in her head all the previous night.

"I don't know what you said to her, lady, but the nutcase seems to have finally calmed down a bit after talking to you yesterday," the guard said as he escorted Catherine to Tania's cell.

"She has a name. It's Tania. And she's been through more than you could possibly imagine," Catherine snapped at the buffoon.

Tania looked up hopefully at Catherine as the guard let her in and then slunk away.

"Hello Tania. I've contacted a lawyer who is going to work on your asylum case pro bono. He should be calling to talk soon," Catherine said. "In the meantime, I'm looking into any leads I've gotten from your story. But, if it's not too painful for you to provide more information, I need to know more. How did you manage to escape?"

---

Belgorod

A little over a year ago

Peter Kuznetsof nervously grabbed another flute of champagne from the passing server and downed it in one gulp. The server winced as he returned the glass to her tray just a little too hard. Peter fought back the urge to apologize. The server stared miserably back at him, waiting to be dismissed.

Her expressive blue eyes were the only part of her body not covered up, other than her tits. She wore a skintight latex hood that fit her so snugly he could see every detail of the large gag she wore underneath. Her long blond ponytail erupted elegantly out of a hole in the top of the hood. He could see her struggle to swallow the buildup of saliva in her mouth, caused by a posture collar fit so snugly and smoothly around her neck that it looked like it was made for her (it was).

Around her waist the server wore a corset pulled narrow enough that he was sure he could touch his fingers together if he wrapped his hands around her. The top of her corset ended in a half cup bra beneath her tits which bristled with dozens of tiny sharp spikes. Her arms had been pulled behind her and laced into an armbinder that forced her elbows to touch. Normally one would think that binding the arms of your server would be detrimental to her job, but the party's host had thought of everything.

A silver platter was mounted at the girl's waist, one side hooked to her corset via a flexible hinge. The outer two corners of the platter were suspended by a pair of chains, with one chain going up to each of the girl's exposed tits where they were anchored by a large fishhook jabbed in behind each nipple. The chains pulled her tits out and down, mashing her tits against the spiked corset top. The designers of this outfit had ensured that even an empty tray would provide little relief. A set of heavy lead weights had been soldered to the underside of the outer edge ensuring that the bulk of the weight hanging from her tits was the tray itself.

Peter looked down at the name tag, which had been literally pinned to the girl's tit. A small streak of dried blood ran from where the pin poked through her skin. The girl's tits were a mess of scars. In fact, it was scars on top of scars, with the bruises from a recent whipping mixed in to boot. This girl had seen some serious shit.

"That will be all, Tania," Peter said, trying to get back into character. Tania awkwardly curtsied, then spun about on her ballet boots and waddled away to serve drinks to the rest of the guests. The six inch chain connecting her shackled ankles tinkled softly as she retreated. From the back, Peter could better see the incredibly tight strap that ran between Tania's legs. It was pulled so hard that he could actually see the cleft it made in her crotch. It was obviously there to ensure that the two monstrously sized dildos stuffed into her holes went nowhere.

Peter carefully scanned the room, searching. After months of work he had finally gotten the opportunity to be invited to one of these parties, though his reason for attending was much different than all of the other guests.

Several months ago his beloved wife, Anastasia, suddenly went missing. She was snatched in broad daylight, on the middle of a busy street, pulled into an unmarked van and disappeared. No one present was willing to admit that anything had happened. He only knew about it through his connections in local law enforcement. Peter was a captain in the Rosgvardia - the Russian national guard, which, unofficially, was the secret police for the prime minister himself.

Peter knew that only one other organization could have disappeared his wife and left no witnesses willing to talk about it - the FSB. He tried getting information from all the official channels, but was blocked at every turn. Finally he decided to take matters into his own hands. He delved into the seedy underbelly of human trafficking that pervaded the corrupt government he worked for. He found ways to make himself useful - scrubbing evidence from state servers, forging papers for seedy criminals. His desire to find his loving wife even pushed him so far as to begin feeding other unwilling victims into the insatiable supply chain of flesh that always demanded more. They were mostly indigents and runaways, woman that he told himself society would never miss. He managed to impress some of the higher-ups in the criminal organization and his reward was an invitation to this party so that he could 'enjoy the fruits of his labors'.

He scanned the attendees of the party, looking from face to face for someone he knew, someone who could tell him what had happened to his dear, sweet Anastasia, or, as he hoped so dearly, that he might see Anastasia herself somewhere among the various 'staff' that worked the party. Instead, everywhere he looked he saw cruelty and depravity. From the whipping posts to the cages to the wooden ponies and the racks - all occupied by terrified and suffering young women.

He grabbed another drink from a passing server - Sofia, the cruel name tag said. He knew he shouldn't drink so much. He needed to keep his head clear. But he had seen and done some awful things in the past few months and he needed to take the edge off. It would all be worth it, he told himself, once Anastasia was back in his arms.

The drinks passed through him quickly and he regrettably decided to use the restroom. On the way he spied Mistress XS, an absolutely terrifying woman, whom he'd only met in passing. She had a small crowd gathered around her as she gave a demonstration on needle play. Her victim was standing upright inside a tall, narrow wooden crate. A small panel in front of her chest had been removed, allowing access to the woman's previously squished tits underneath. The unfortunate slave already had half a dozen gleaming pinheads circling her left nipple, and Mistress XS was currently pressing the tip of another three inch long needle into the areola of the right. Peter shut his ears to the bloodcurdling scream coming from the box. It's not Anastasia, he told himself, that woman's complexion is too dark.

Before Peter could make it to the door of the bathroom he was approached by a slave dressed in something akin to a schoolgirl's uniform. Her short, pleated skirt was pulled high up on her waist, exposing her bare crotch and the tops of her white stockings. Her tied purple tits burst out from her partially unbuttoned white blouse. A small chalkboard dangled from her bulging tits, suspended at the corners by nipple clamps, it read: My name is Natasha. I have been naughty. Please punish me.

The girl came right up to Peter, looked him in the eye, and tearfully said, "Please, sir. Would you please fuck my naughty ass?" As she said it she turned around and flipped up her skirt. She bent over and transferred the wooden cane she carried from her hand to her mouth, holding it clenched between her teeth. Then she used both hands to pull her ass cheeks apart.

Peter looked down at the pathetic wretch. Clearly plenty of men had already taken her up on her offer. Her gaping reddened asshole oozed cum. In addition to that, poor Natasha had several bright red welts across her buttocks where she'd been beaten with her cane. Peter took a step to move past her, then did a double take. Upon closer inspection of the schoolgirl's bent over rump he could see the shocking state of the girl's pussy - it had been sewn shut! A dozen stitches had been made with thin black thread, pulling her labia close together. The ends of the thread met at the girl's clitoris where they tightly circled its base, making the angry purple bulb bulge obscenely.

"No, thank you," Peter grunted as he pushed past. Disappointed, she stood back upright, transferring the cane back to her hands. She wobbled away on her six inch heels, looking for someone else to take her up on her offer, the heavy ball and chain attached to her right ankle dragged along behind her.

Peter pushed through the door to the bathroom and braced himself for what he'd see inside. The party's host did not disappoint - even the bathroom was just another opportunity to degrade and humiliate the slaves they had captured. The urinal was in use, Peter chose to wait rather than use the toilet that was available in the stall next to him.

The toilet was a clear glass bowl topped with a fairly standard toilet seat. However, rather than leading to a drain, the bowl emptied to a hole leading directly into the open mouth of the slave bound beneath. The sickly-looking girl was wrapped in a tight hogtie, laying on her back. She wore a transparent hood whose mouthpiece mated with the underside of the bowl to form an airtight seal. From her position below, the girl had an excellent view of everything that was coming her way. Rather than the usual flusher at the back, there was a switch which would activate a small blender located between the bowl and the hood which would 'helpfully' mash up any solid matter and then provide a squirt of water to wash it away.

The unhappy toilet slave wasn't alone in her misery. Kneeling next to her was another girl, covered head to toe in a black rubber bodysuit. Her arms had been pulled up behind her in a reverse prayer, and a posture collar kept her head upright and tipped back. The only part of her body not covered in tight black rubber was her mouth, which she obediently held open, her tongue sticking as far out of her mouth as she could manage. If the second slave's purpose wasn't immediately obvious, it would be once a visitor noticed that there was no toilet paper or bidet available in the stall. As an added bonus, she could also later swap places with her companion once the girl beneath the bowl was too full to swallow any more.

The man at the urinal was taking his sweet time, releasing his piss in short bursts. "Come on, cunt," he growled. "Swallow it all down or else I'll come pay you visit on the other side of the wall." Gurgling, retching, and gasping was the reply from in front of him.

Finally the man finished. "Sorry for the delay, bud," he said. "She looked thirsty."

Peter faked a smile and nodded. He stepped toward the urinal, but refused to look down. He'd seen enough misery and suffering for one day, even though the night was still young. If he had looked down he would have seen a woman with long, black hair laying face up with her head positioned in something akin to a shampoo sink at a beauty salon. But rather than a nice, comfortable chair, she was strapped to a downward sloping table outside of the bathroom on the other side of the wall and her head had been pressed through a watertight rubber gasket positioned just below waist height so that really only her head was in the bathroom, the rest of her body was available for use by the party guests outside. Her mouth was held open by a flexible rubber ring gag which allowed her jaw enough movement that she could swallow, but was rigid enough that it stayed propped open.

In fact, it was really rather unfortunate that Peter didn't look down, because if he had he would have seen the soulful green eyes of his adoring wife gazing up at him. Her sobbing suddenly ceased as she realized who it was that stood before her.

"Nnngh! Unngh! Unngh!" she cried out. Peter pulled his cock out of his pants. The piss slave grew more animated. "Nnngh! Nnngh!" she wailed. She banged her head against the white porcelain bowl again and again.

"Oh God, what are they doing to her out there?" he sighed to himself as let out a torrent of piss, still refusing to look down on the poor woman that he was debasing. He tried to direct the stream lower and off to one side, hitting the woman in the forehead and further soaking her hair. "At least I can do her the favor of not pissing in her mouth," he thought. Though he was certainly doing no favors to the slaves bound down in the tank beneath the floor of the bathroom, which is where the drain at the bottom of the porcelain bowl went to. That was where the substitute toilet slaves were stored. They'd be rotated in once the current girls had had their fill.

Peter finished his business and turned to leave. The piss slave frantically called after him, crying and shrieking, her mangled words turned to nonsense by her gag. Peter turned on the water and washed his hands, grateful that at least this didn't involve any punishments as his water unknowingly trickled down to a rapidly filling tank beneath his feet.

He stepped out of the bathroom and nearly crashed into the man who was in there before him. Apparently he had decided to take up schoolgirl Natasha on her offer to fuck her in the ass. The duo were grunting in unison as the man buried himself balls deep into her aching butt. The poor schoolgirl kept squealing in pain as the man periodically pinched her heavily bruised ass. Finally with a loud grunt, he came, spurting his cum deep up inside her. Natasha quickly spun around, removed the cane that she held in her mouth while being fucked, and started licking the man clean. She soon finished and, still kneeling submissively on the floor, dropped her eyes to ground, presented the cane up over her head with both hands and said, "Thank you, sir, for fucking my ass. If I pleased you then would you be so kind as to give me one cane stroke."

"Just one?" the man asked coyly.

"Yes, sir," Natasha explained. "The headmaster said that I may only receive one stroke from each person who fucks me. If my butt is not bruised to his satisfaction by the end of the night then I will be severely punished tomorrow."

"Is that so?" the man asked as he grabbed the cane and gave it a few practice swishes through the air. Natasha immediately jumped to her feet, turned around, and grabbed her ankles.

"Please punish me, sir. I've been so naughty," she begged with a quaver of fear in her voice.

"I like you, kid, so I'm go to help you out," he said smiling. Crack! He took a full, fast swing and slammed the cane into her presented ass. The blow landed so hard that Natasha stumbled forward and fell to the floor, crying out. She lay crumpled and crying for just a second before painfully crawling back to her knees.

"Thank you, sir," Natasha sobbed, fresh tears running down her face. "Please enjoy your evening." She took the cane back from him and hobbled away in search of another assfuck.

This was all getting to be too much for Peter. He resolved to finish his survey of the party and then leave. He didn't take more than one step, however, before he was stopped in his tracks by the party's host.

"Ah, Peter," said Dr. Saavik, smiling. "I'm glad I finally caught up to you. You are enjoying yourself, I hope?"

"Yes, doctor," he replied. "I can't thank you enough for inviting me. I've gotten a glimpse of a world that I could have never imagined existed." He fought hard to control his emotions. He couldn't afford to let Saavik catch on to his ruse.

"Nonsense. I should be thanking you," Dr. Saavik insisted. "After all, you've been quite helpful lately in providing some fresh... entertainment... for us."

Peter looked out across the room, fighting back a shudder of guilt. How many girls had he sacrificed to this monster in his quest to rescue his wife? And how many more would it take? But, even if he didn't find his wife, he had a secret plan to exact his revenge and bring down this whole wretched organization once and for all.

His contacts in the government had all turned out to be dead ends. Whoever Saavik was connected with was too powerful or too well connected for anyone to dare to oppose him. But there was one force more powerful than any other in Russian society, the moneyed elite - the oligarchs. If you had found favor in the upper levels of government then no one would fuck with you. Not the FSB. Not the Rosgvardia. No one. You could rob and plunder the Russian people to your heart's content.

So when Peter caught wind of a hot, young actress who had recently acquired the infatuation of a local oligarch, he sprang into action. He carefully guided a kidnap crew onto her trail. When they finally took the bait, he made sure to plant a few subtle clues at the crime scene that the irate oligarch would be sure to follow as he sought out his mistress. Then it was just a matter of time before vengeance came crashing in. Peter figured he had at least two weeks, maybe three, before the whole enterprise came crumbling down - plenty of time for him to find Anastasia, rescue her, and disappear.

"Come with me, Peter," Saavik said with his signature sly smile, grabbing Peter's elbow and directing him forward. "There's something special I'd like to show you." Peter followed along. "In my work as a psychiatrist I've developed a real knack for reading people, and I think I've gotten a good read on you."

Peter could feel his pulse quicken. What did Saavik mean by that? Did he know?

"I get the feeling that you are searching for something, Peter," he continued. "Something that you've lost. Something that you miss dearly. I'd like to help you find it."

A shrill scream burst out from the corner of the dungeon behind the bathroom. It a was primal, frantic shriek of pain that carried on and on. Peter's mask broke and concern appeared on his face. He yanked his arm free and darted around the corner, then stopped in his tracks.

There, kneeling on the floor, not more than fifteen feet away from him was his dear, beloved Anastasia. She had been recently freed from the table that had held her for her bathroom duties. Her long, black, urine soaked hair had been bundled into a ponytail, yanked back, and tied off to the tangle of rope that held her arms behind her back. It still dripped piss onto the floor beneath her. She was up on her knees with her chest pressed against a tall wooden frame, a tight leather strap around her back held her in place. Her tits had been pulled through a pair of holes in the wood. Two long rails reached up from the frame almost to the ceiling and, nestled between them at the top was a big, heavy, gleaming, metal blade. Anastasia was kneeling in front of an old-timey guillotine, but instead of her neck resting in the path of the blade, it was her tits!

"Take one more step and your wife's tits are leaving here in a 'to go' box," Mistress XS said coldly, staring at Peter. She was standing next to the guillotine with the pull cord to release the blade in her hands. Seated on a low stool next to her, Dr. Zorhof was busy injecting Anastasia's tits with her infamous fire serum. One tit was already red and swollen after a half a dozen injections and now the doctor had moved onto the other one. Anastasia, with her head pulled back severely, screamed and screamed as her swollen tits blazed in fiery pain. Yet her eyes remained open, fixedly staring at the heavy steel blade looming overhead.

"You have been very foolish, Peter," Dr. Saavik said as he came up beside Peter again. "Did you think we were stupid? Did you think that we wouldn't look into you?"

Dr. Zorhof finished her injections and now she had grabbed a thin metal rod and was swinging it down onto the tops of Anastasia's swollen fun bags over and over and over again.

"Your wife has the best breasts that I've ever had the pleasure of playing with, Peter - so big, so firm, so perky, so... sensitive," Mistress XS said with a sadistic smile. She leaned down and viciously pinched and twisted Anastasia's puffy nipples, getting a nice reaction. "Her screams make me so wet. She just might be my new favorite plaything."

"But we shouldn't be having all the fun," Dr. Saavik chimed in. "After all, Peter, you sought to join our club because you share our interests, right? Well here's your chance."

Dr. Zorhof thrust her metal cane into Peter's hands and stepped back from Anastasia.

"Go on, Peter. If you truly love your wife, then you'll start caning her tits," Mistress XS said as she pantomimed yanking the pin holding up the blade.

Peter stared down at the cane in his hands. He looked over at his whimpering wife, who was still struggling to pull her battered breasts out of the path of the guillotine blade. Peter gulped. He took one step forward, lifting the thin cane.

Suddenly, on the other side of the room, the large wooden double doors that served as the entrance to the party room violently exploded with a loud bang, sending thousands of little splinters flying into the room. Dozens of armed men carrying assault rifles poured into the room through the gaping hole left by the explosion. Now it was the party guests' turn to scream as the aggressive assault team fanned out and began detaining people left and right. Peter looked away from the smoking ruins of the door, back to the evil, sadistic ringleaders. Justice! Revenge! Freedom for his poor Anastasia. He'd done it!

But his heart sank as he saw Mistress XS and her two wicked companions hurriedly escaping through a secret door, hidden in the false back of a sarcophagus mounted on the wall. A second later he was tackled to the ground by a burly soldier, the metal cane in his hand rattled away on the floor.

"They're getting away!" Peter yelled.

"Shut up, you sick fuck!" the soldier growled. He quickly handcuffed Peter then stood up and placed a heavy boot on his neck, smiling as he watched Peter lose consciousness.

--

ICE Detention Center

Present Day

"And so when the soldiers stormed the party they freed my hands and cut the chains. But I still had a month left on my prison sentence. I couldn't let them take me back there, so while they were gathering up all the party guests that they had arrested, I snuck away," Tania explained. "I had nowhere to go. There was nobody I could trust. I snuck across the border to Kharkiv and did whatever I could to scrounge up some money for false papers and a plane ticket to America. And now, here I am."

"Wow," Catherine said, awestruck. "You're so brave. Your story is absolutely incredible. So the human trafficking ring was broken up?"

"That's what they said in the news," Tania said. "They claimed it was run by a Rosgvardia captain named Peter Kuznetzof. But that can't be true. I know it was run by Mistress XS, with help from Dr. Saavik and Dr. Zorhof. I desperately searched the news for stories of their arrests, but I never found any."

"So they not only sourced their victims from the prisons. They also kidnapped vulnerable girls off the street?" Catherine asked.

"And girls from orphanages that were turned out when they hit eighteen. And hitchhikers. And anyone else who might not raise too much suspicion when they went missing," Tania explained.

"Well, thank you once again for your story. I'm going to continue looking into everything you told me," Catherine said as she gathered up her paperwork. "But don't you worry. Nothing like that could possibly happen here. You're safe."

Chapter 6 - Want You Bad

The Farm

Present Day

At that exact moment, a few hours away, Judge Joseph Kellerman pulled up to the farmhouse in his Mercedes. The code he had been given for the gate at the entrance had worked. He parked his car and straightened his tie. He was excited for his first visit to the Group XS compound. The judge walked up the steps and pressed the doorbell - he could here a shrill scream echo inside. A nice touch, he thought. Then his curiosity got the better of him. He jabbed the doorbell three more times - short, short, long. Sure enough, the screams from the inside followed in the same pattern.

He stood waiting for about forty seconds before the door gradually creaked open. Judge Kellerman watched the slow-moving door open all the way, then he stepped inside. The foyer appeared to be empty, but then he heard the patter of small footsteps behind him. He turned, and smiled some more.

There was a woman bound to the back of the door. She wore a heavy black bondage suit, all thick leather and tight straps. She hung from several hooks embedded in the back of the door that were fed through strategically placed rings on her outfit. A few supplemental straps helped hold her more securely against the sturdy wood. Her hands were held out from her sides, with her right hand resting on the doorknob. The rigid bondage suit held her feet in a pointed position with her toes just touching the floor, that was how she opened and closed the door. Her legs struggled against the stiff leather and tight straps, and so the door moved slowly.

The judge stuck out his foot and halted the closing door. "Just one second," he said to the girl. He wasn't sure if she could hear him through the oppressive hood that covered her head. A blindfold had been strapped over her eyes and her lips were wrapped around a large red ball gag.

Kellerman reached around the doorframe to the doorbell outside and pressed it. He watched as the girl stiffened and screamed. He held down the button and grinned as her scream carried on and on, her tits shuddering violently under the electric assault being delivered to her nipples from the wires that he now saw ran along the edge of her bust and over to a box mounted near the top hinge. When he finally released the button, the tortured girl sagged, gasping for breath, and furiously sobbing.

"My, my, that must hurt," he said.

"Uh huh," the girl cried.

The judge reached up and squeezed one of her tits. The girl wailed in pain.

"Are there spikes on the inside of the bondage suit here?" he asked.

"Uh huh," the girl answered again.

"Interesting." He looked the girl up and down to see what other fun surprises her bondage might hold. His eyes paused at her crotch. He saw a little glint of metal at the top of her cunt. There was a taut line running from it to the doorknob. "I would like to see you turn the doorknob," he said finally.

The girl's fingers tightened around the knob, but her hand hesitated to turn it. One second passed, then another. Suddenly, she stiffened and shrieked as the judge reached outside and pressed the doorbell again.

"When I give you a command, I expect it to be obeyed immediately," Judge Kellerman snarled. "Turn the doorknob."

This time the girl gripped the knob and slowly twisted it. As she did so, the line, which was anchored to the nearside of the knob, wrapped itself around the base. As the knob turned, the string shortened and it pulled at the metal, slowly, slowly drawing her clamped clit out from between her legs. The girl grunted and groaned as her sensitive nub stretched more and more, millimeter by millimeter. She futilely attempted to twist her hips towards the doorknob, but her bondage allowed no movement in that direction. With a soft click, the knob stopped turning and the girl's aching clit was yanked to its maximum.

The judge was impressed. Whoever had engineered this torture had ensured that at its full extent, the cord was pulled as tight as it could possibly be - any farther risked causing permanent damage to the slave's clit. He reached forward and twanged the cord, it was as tight as a bowstring. The door slave shrieked and her grip on the knob slipped, sending it back to it's neutral position.

Judge Kellerman quickly reached outside again and pressed the doorbell for ten, twenty, thirty seconds. The slave screamed and shuddered as her tits were buffeted with electric agony.

"I did not give you permission to let go," he growled, then looked back down at the knob and clit clamp. "Is this the reason why I was left to wait outside instead of being immediately admitted?"

The slave nodded. "Uh huh," she sobbed truthfully.

"I see," he said. "Turn it again. And. Do. Not. Let. Go."

The girl's trembling fingers gripped the knob and turned, once again drawing her angry red clit out from between her legs. He could see her jaw clench around the red ball gag. She took slow, steady breaths, though a plaintive wail still squeaked out of her throat. Her fear of the man standing before her was greater than the fear of the pain she currently endured. The line reached its maximum extent.

The judge reached forward and prodded her exposed clit with his fingernail. The girl's arm trembled as she struggled to maintain her hold on the doorknob. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. He gave several short jabs at the doorbell. The girl jumped with each sharp surge of electricity. Then she finally broke. With a plaintive wail she lost control of her bladder. A hot stream of piss gushed out from between her legs. Judge Kellerman jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being hit. The sensation surprised the girl, too. Her hand slipped off of the doorknob and it sprang back to its neutral position. She hung from the door, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Judge Kellerman," a voice called down from the stairway behind him. "I'm terribly sorry to keep you waiting."

The judge turned around to see a gorgeous woman in a purple latex catsuit descending the stairs. Her blonde ponytail sashaying behind her as she confidently walked toward him in her black spike-heeled boots. Her gray eyes glowed behind the black half-hood that covered the top of her head.

"We spoke on the phone earlier. I am Mistress XS," she said.

"No problem at all," Judge Kellerman replied, kissing her proffered hand. "I was just admiring what you've done with this slave."

Mistress XS's eyes narrowed as she focused on the sobbing wretch hanging from the door. "I hope Kate was able to keep you entertained?"

"The bondage is impeccably done," the judge remarked. "But I find her discipline lacking." He gestured to the puddle of piss on the floor.

Mistress XS scowled. She stormed forward, put her hands to Kate's spiked tits and pushed the door shut. It closed with a slam, but Mistress XS continued pressing on Kate's crushed and pinned tits. She leaned with all her weight, twisting her wrists back and forth, grinding the girl's tits while she hissed into the frantic slave's ear.

"I told you to be on your best behavior! And now you've gone and embarrassed me in front of my guest. You will be *severely* punished later." She looked down at the mess on the floor. "You were also warned about relieving yourself without permission. After your punishment, you've earned yourself a stay in The Tank."

"Nnngh! Nnngh!" Kate frantically cried, her body heaving with sobs.

"Please excuse me, Judge Kellerman," she said as she picked up a phone from a table nearby.

"Ilsa?" she said into the phone. "I need you to find someone else to work the front door... Uh huh... Take Kate and deliver her to a punishment cell. I want her brought to my personal quarters tomorrow morning. Make sure her bladder is full... Oh, and have Beth come and lick the floors clean. She should start at the front door, but have her do the whole first floor for good measure... Excellent... Thank you." She hung up the phone.

"I'm sorry for the inauspicious start to your visit, Judge Kellerman," she said, turning to him and smiling once again.

"Think nothing of it," he replied. "After all, what is our purpose here if not to instill discipline into unruly and disobedient slaves?"

"Indeed. It's a job that's never done, I'm afraid," Mistress XS added. "But back to the reason for your visit today, I'm pleased to hear that you are interested in joining our little organization. You come very highly recommended by Mrs. Van Pelt."

"Yes, Martha and I go way back. I was sad when her husband passed, we used to golf together," the judge said. "Though I have to say that I am impressed with what I have seen so far. And I think I can offer quite a lot to your operation through my role in the justice system."

"Yes, I'm certainly interested in hearing more about that," Mistress XS said. "But perhaps we should start with a tour."

She led him through a heavy door and down some stairs into a hallway. "Over here on the left is our bondage suite. On the other side is the leather dungeon. Farther down this hallway is the age-play suite. Dr. Saavik is currently putting things in place to start a slave school down here, so that the girls who come our way can get a proper education."

"What's this?" Judge Kellerman asked, pausing in front of a door stamped with a swastika.

"Ah, that would be our Nazi dungeon," Mistress XS explained.

The judge's eyes lit up. "When I was a young boy growing up in Argentina, my father would tell me tales of his exploits in his German homeland," he said. "May I take a look inside?"

"Of course," Mistress XS smiled.

Judge Kellerman opened the door and stepped through. His smile beamed from ear to ear as he regarded the noisy, chaotic scene around him.

In the center of the room there were four girls on hands and knees arranged in a circle around a center post. All four wore nothing, but they were all adorned with a multitude of piercings and shackles that connected each girl to the one in front and behind her, making a complete circle of misery.

If he had taken the time to count, the judge would have seen 13 identical piercings threaded with shiny steel rings on each of the four girls. To start, there was the tongue piercing. The tongue ring had been inserted as far back as possible, which had made it all the more unbearable when it was pulled out and linked to the piercing of the girl ahead of her in the circle, who had a ring embedded just below her anus!

The next piercing was a thick ring through each girl's septum. This was paired with a ring embedded just above the anus of the girl ahead. Through these four rings each girl was locked to the one ahead of her in the circle, nose and tongue to ass joined together in an intimate kiss, with her dry tongue lapping at the perineum of her partner.

These four piercings alone were more than enough to keep each girl tethered to her partners, both ahead and behind, but of course no member of Group XS was satisfied with anything near the minimum. So each girl also had a piercing in her lower lip connected via a short barbed chain to the clit ring of the slave ahead of her. The chain was pulled taut, stretching both lower lip and clit and neatly parting the labia, rubbing its barbed links on the tender flesh beneath with each tug of the chain.

Each slave's labia, by the way, had their own rings, one in each meaty lip. Those rings were attached via a much thicker chain to metal shackles around the wrists of the trailing slave - left labia to left wrist and right labia to right wrist. The cunt lips sagged under the weight of the chains, which jangled noisily as the girls crawled in a circle. Anyone who lagged behind in the procession risked giving a painful tug to her partner's pussy. Thus, they moved their arms in short, rapid steps.

The rings in the slaves' tits were special. Instead of passing through the nipples, or even right behind them, they were set farther back, deep through the fleshy breast meat. The rings were much larger too - five inches in diameter and a quarter inch thick. The heaviest chains of all hung from these rings, connecting each breast with a corresponding ankle of the slave ahead of her. These ankle chains were short enough that even if the girls weren't moving, they'd be unable to rest their feet on the ground without tugging on the tits of the girl behind her. This ensured that as they circled, their knees bore the brunt of their movement.

One more ring in the navel of each slave was latched onto a three foot horizontal pole jutting out from a central cylinder that the quartet orbited. The poles turned along with the girls as they circled. The central cylinder had a mechanical counter on top which slowly ticked up as each lap was completed.

This left two more rings, pierced through the center part of the girls' ears, giving them a bizarre animal-like appearance. Though these metal rings were currently hidden beneath the tight, white latex hoods that the slaves wore. Each hood had a blue Star of David printed on the back, and 'JUDEN' stencilled in black letters across the forehead, making painfully obvious the 'infraction' that these women had committed to their Nazi overseer. The latex stretched from the tops of their heads down to the thick metal collar that each wore, with one hole for their locked lips and nose and two more holes for their terrified eyes. However, with her face firmly pressed into the ass of the girl ahead of her, each slave could see little more than the sweaty abused back beyond that girl's ass.

Those sweaty, exposed backs were painted all over with bright red 'tiger' stripes, laid down by the horsewhip wielding Nazi standing a few feet from the circle. The youthful blond stood confidently surveying her charges, a contemptuous look on her face. She wore a white silk blouse, tucked into her tan jodhpurs, and tall, black riding boots. Her flowing blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"Come on you subhuman whores, keep moving," the woman called out over the clatter of chains. "I want to see a thousand laps finished by the top of the hour if you expect to eat tonight."

She punctuated her statement with the crack of her whip against the exposed back of one of the slaves, hitting just inches from the Star of David that had been branded onto her upper hip. The anguished recipient arched her back, tugging on both her clit and ass piercings and the face piercings of the girl behind her. She surged forward, burying her face into the ass of the girl ahead of her, though her exhausted arms lagged behind and she ended up tugging sharply on that girl's stretched labia.

The judge took in the entire scene with utter glee, but his gaze was soon locked on the stunning young blonde directing this carousel of depravity. He stared like a schoolboy with his first crush. His puppy dog eyes glazed over. "I think I'm in love," he muttered softly to himself.

"Oh, hello," the woman said, realizing for the first time that she had visitors. She hung up her whip, though the breakneck speed of the shackled slaves continued apace - they were certainly motivated!

"Who's your handsome friend?" she asked Mistress XS.

"Eva Koch, please meet Judge Joseph Kellerman," Mistress XS replied. "He's a prospective member of Group XS."

Eva turned to the man who was easily old enough to be her father. "Handsome and a judge? Tell me he speaks German and I'll need to find a slave to lick the juices out of my panties."

"Where has such a beautiful young Aryan woman been hiding all my life?" the judge responded in fluent German, bending down to kiss the back of her hand.

Eva blushed. "May I show you around, Herr Kellerman?"

"Certainly."

Mistress XS, reading the obvious chemistry between the two Nazi enthusiasts, decided to give the pair some privacy. She excused herself and returned to her quarters wondering how long it would be until Group XS hosted its first wedding.

"I like to get the whores out of their cages every so often to get them some exercise. It helps keep them from getting lazy," Eva explained.

"A thousand laps? If my math is correct, based on the size of the circle, that's about five miles," the judge mused. Five miles crawling rapidly on bruised hands and knees, under constant fear of the whip, moving as quickly as possible, burdened by heavy chains and painful piercings.

"One time, when I was in a particularly dour mood, I stuffed the girls with cheap, greasy dogfood and powerful laxatives before hooking them up. There was quite a mess that day!" she said.

"I'd have loved to see that," the judge remarked. "Before you show me around, do you mind if I improve the lighting in here a little?"

"Not at all."

The judge grabbed a candelabra off of a table. It held six long thin white candles. He struck a match and lit them. Then he pulled a rope down from the ceiling above the circling slaves and hung the candelabra from it. Within another minute, piping hot wax was raining down on the miserable women as each passed under the blazing chandelier. They squirmed as the melted wax splashed against their skin, resulting in more yanks on their humiliating and painful piercings.

"Much improved!" the judge said with a smile. "I'll gladly help you to whip the wax off of them later."

"Even better - we'll have the Jew whores whip the wax off each other. If anyone misses a spot, then they all return to the carousel for another thousand laps!" she laughed.

Eva took the judge's hand and led him around the dungeon. They passed a limp slave wearing a heavy discipline helmet, suspended from the ceiling by her wrists. Her heavily bruised tits rising and falling slowly with each unconscious breath.

They passed another hooded slave desperately struggling to stand up on her toes, her arms trapped behind her in an armbinder, as she fought to reduce the pull on the heavy meat hooks that had been passed through her tits and straight up to the ceiling on steel cables. The enormous dildos strapped into her pussy and ass could be seen based on how much they distended her narrow waist. The gagging noises coming from under the hood suggested a nice long dildo gag tickled her throat as well.

They passed cages that were hardly big enough for one girl, occupied by two. "Just an example of German ingenuity and efficiency," Eva explained proudly when Judge Kellerman asked how she had managed to pack them in. The caged pair they were currently looking at were in a sixty-nine position, their piercings locked together to maintain an intimate embrace. A pair of legs dangled out near the bottom of the cage, and another pair stuck out of the top. The upright girl practically sat on the face of the inverted girl, whose head was bent forward at ninety degrees in order to fit.

They ended their little walk in front of a terrified and struggling slave whose anxiety increased as they got closer and closer. "This is Nicole," Eva explained. "She was recently transferred to our little slice of hell for alleged crimes against the Third Reich. In my first interrogation she admitted to being a lesbian and a whore. I suspect that she may have Jewish sympathies as well, but I thought it'd be a good idea to let her see how Jews are punished down here before she goes confessing to such a serious offense." She gave the judge a devilish wink. "In the meantime, I have fitted her with my thirteen special rings and let her take a seat to watch her fellow undesirables get some exercise."

Calling the chair that Nicole was attached to 'a seat' was being generous. There was, indeed, a horizontal surface upon which she could rest her weight. However, a heavy padlock inserted through the three rings of her pussy and a ringbolt in the seat ensured that sitting would be quite uncomfortable. Another heavy lock through her ass piercings and another nearby ringbolt made it doubly so. Nicole squatted with a leg on either side of chair, struggling to hold herself aloft. Too high and she tugged on her piercings. Too low and she cruelly twisted them and sat on the bulky, jagged locks.

There was no back to the chair. Instead Nicole was pulled forward by a bar rising vertically from the front which had several anchor points for her remaining piercings. There was a link for her navel. There was a T-shaped crossbar, set far enough forward that it pulled her chest up against the vertical bar and stretched her heavily ringed tits out from her chest. The top of the bar ended in a bulb that tipped towards her face. The anchors for her lower lip, tongue and septum were set back from the bulb so that the lump of metal was inserted far back into her mouth. She needed to tug on those three points to keep from gagging on the bulb as it jabbed at her throat.

Finally, to keep her arms up out of the way, Nicole's shackled wrists had been locked to the piercings set through the middle part of each ear. She meekly held her hands aloft like some frightened mugging victim.

Eva took a seat on a much more conventional-looking stool in front of Nicole. "So what do you think about how we punish lowly Jewish sluts down here?" she asked conversationally. "Wouldn't you just love to join them?"

"Nnngh nuh," Nicole mumbled, then gagged on the bulb in her mouth again.

"Hmm, we'll have to discuss that later," Eva said. "By the way, have you figured out what I have planned for you yet? I left you some clues on this tray." She gestured to a platter nearby which contained a six inch hunting knife, a glass vial with clear liquid in it, and a small, thin paintbrush. Nicole looked fearfully at the tray and back at Eva.

"Need another hint? This is a small vial of acid. And this is my skinning knife," she said, picking up each item in turn.

Nicole grew more animated. "Nnngh! Nnngh! Pweez!" she begged, rising up from the chair until the heavy padlocks tugged her back down.

"How about another hint? I just love torturing subversive whores' nipples!"

Nicole's eyes dropped down to her chest. Her breasts had been stretched far forward by the thick rings threaded through her flesh, but they had been embedded so far back that there was still easy access to her puffy, pink nipples. Eva reached up and tweaked the terrified girl's little nips, sending her in a panic. She grew more animated, but this only served to yank harder on her various piercings.

Eva looked over at Judge Kellerman. "You don't mind if I give sweet Nicole here a little bit of much needed attention, do you? You are, of course, welcome to partake in anything you like around here."

"I would love to see you ply your craft," the judge said. "Though while you do, I was thinking I might give my regards to this pretty, young thing who's been wagging her ass at me since I arrived."

The judge walked over to a small wooden box with 'live animals' stamped across the side. It was mounted on a pole so that it was about waist height. The girl within had been packed tight, facing downward, with her knees to her chest and her arms folded up neatly inside. Even still, the girl did not fit completely within the wooden sides. Her ass, wrapped in a pair of tight leather panties, stuck out through a hole cut in the back. Several inches below that, on either corner of the same side, the girl's feet stuck out through two smaller holes that fit around her ankles.

On the other side of the box there was a hole for the girl's neck. Her head stuck through and her long blond hair had been bundled into a ponytail, yanked back, and tied off on the top of the box so that her neck was pulled back at a severe angle. Her mouth was held wide by a dental gag that was opened as far as possible.

"That's Madison," Eva said. "She's spending a few days with us, on loan from Mistress Helga. I imagine she could use a little company - she's been covered in Dr. Zorhof's new itching powder, attired in the new spiked bra and panties that she sewed for herself, and then packed away in that box. Fortunately she remembered to cut a slit in the seat of her panties so that a handsome gentleman such as yourself could pay her a visit. She even padded the seat of her panties for you so that she feels the full impact of the spikes and you don't!"

"Very considerate," the judge mused as his fingers peeled aside the slit and admired the sharp spikes within.

He walked around the front of the box and looked down at Madison. She looked back up at him with sad, tearful eyes. "I am going to fuck your ass and cane those pretty feet. Which would you like first?"

Madison looked back at him in wide-eyed horror. "Uh aa! Uh aa!" she repeated, wagging her tongue at him.

"A horny little whore, eh?" The judge pulled his cock out of his pants and guided it to Madison's open mouth. "You know where it's going, so you'd better moisten it up."

He placed the tip of his cock on her tongue and held it there, letting her pull against her bound hair as she attempted to spread wetness as far down the length of his penis as possible. Then the judge returned to the back of the box. He put his hands on her leather bound butt cheeks and squeezed. Madison moaned as he pressed the spikes into her fleshy rear. The judge pulled aside the slit to her panties and lined up his cock with her tight hole just as Eva was unstoppering her bottle of acid.

Nicole watched in terror as the evil Nazi woman dipped her brush into the glass jar and then painted the first of her puffy pink nipples with cool, clear liquid. At first she felt nothing, the short soft bristles of the brush tickled more than anything. Then the acid took effect. Nicole, who had already spent a few days with this woman being interrogated and pierced, thought she knew pain. She was wrong. Her nipples had always been the most sensitive part of her body and now, as the acid seared away the outermost layer of skin on them, she had found a whole new world of agony waiting for her.

The judge waited patiently for Nicole's shrill scream before driving his rock hard cock into Madison's waiting ass. Her screams joined Nicole's as he slammed the full length of his dick into her in one powerful thrust and his pelvis mashed her spiked panties into the stretched ring of her anus. The forceful pump slammed Madison forward in the box, banging her shoulders into the top. He slowly slid himself out, before ramming himself forward again, relishing the punishment that his hard jackhammering was inflicting. He battered away at Madison's suffering backside, all the while watching as his beautiful blond crush applied her own tortuous punishment.

Eva waited for the burning to subside on Nicole's first nipple before returning her brush to the jar for the second one. She had the brush in one hand while her other hand had ventured into her own panties. She took a moment and closed her eyes, playfully strumming her pussy to the sounds of Nicole's suffering. Nicole trembled in place. Her sobs were frequently interrupted by gagging sounds as she failed to pull hard enough on her face piercings and the metal bulb in her mouth banged into the back of her throat.

Eva withdrew the brush from the glass bottle. She looked over at the Judge Kellerman, who was still pounding away at Madison's ass. He looked back at her and blew her a kiss. Eva blushed. She was really falling for the handsome judge. She looked back at Nicole, who had shut her eyes tight against the coming torture. With a devilish smirk, Eva decided to give the inattentive slave a nasty surprise. She reached down to the seat of Nicole's chair and gave a few quick dabs of her brush on Nicole's pierced and stretched clit!

Nicole's eyes shot open when she felt the tickle of the brush strokes on her pussy. She mashed herself down against the seat, twisting her rings and slamming the clunky lock into her cunt, but it was too late. A few seconds later her screams raged once more as the acid took effect. She writhed and squirmed, but nothing could extinguish the burning on her sensitive clit. Her arms flailed in agony, her shackled wrists threatened to yank the piercings right out of her ears. It was to this background music that Eva dabbed on the acid to Nicole's second nipple. The nice thing about the heavy rings that pierced Nicole's breasts was that they were set far enough back that no matter how much she thrashed and pulled, her nipples remained fixed in roughly the same location.

Judge Kellerman blew his load deep in Madison's ass just as Nicole's shrieks hit their apex. He returned to the front of the box and presented his shit-streaked cock for Madison to lick clean. Her look of utter revulsion was priceless, and yet she had learned better than to refuse. She dutifully attended to his semi-erect penis as he slid it in and out of her mouth. Then she got to watch as he went to a pegboard and carefully picked out just the right cane for beating her soles. He took down several, giving each one a test swish, before finally deciding on one he liked.

After the first snap of the cane across her soles, Madison quickly learned that the bottom of one's feet is one of the most painful places to receive a caning. Her screams competed with Nicole to see who could sound the most desperate, the most miserable, the most tortured. As the judge lined up his second strike, Madison kept wriggling her feet about. The judge angrily ordered her to hold still and she did, for one more stroke. After that he had to resort to applying a clamp to the tip of her tongue, then he ran a taut cord from the clamp to each of her big toes, holding her feet straight and yanking on her tongue if she moved them.

By now Eva had finished with the acid and had begun playing with her knife. Nicole watched in abject horror while her mistress slowly teased away the outer acid-burned layer of skin from her nipples with the blade. She moved slowly, methodically, millimeter by millimeter. There was a steady background rhythm to her work - thud, thud, thud - from the judge's cane as he swung it again and again into Madison's feet, occasionally mixing it up and giving her a strike across her spike-covered ass.

Each watched the other work, the judge relentlessly swinging his cane into Madison's bruised and swelling feet, and Eva, carving greater and greater swaths of skin from Nicole's flayed tits. She had finished with the nipples and was now tugging away narrow strips of skin from the surrounding breasts. Then, like a scene from a rom-com from hell, the sadistic duo turned to each other at nearly the same instant and suggested that they trade places.

Judge Kellerman returned his cane to the pegboard and decided to find a suitable flogger to add some 'much needed color' to Nicole's bare back. While Eva pulled up her stool behind Madison's swollen feet. The tortured blonde wriggled and squirmed as her tormentor tickled her toes with the soft paintbrush.

Meanwhile, the judge bundled up Nicole's long curly brown hair into a bun on the back of her head. The brunette stiffened under the sting of the first strike across her back. Satisfied with the effect of the flogger, he began working his way up and down the pale canvas, from her shoulders down to her hips. Nicole fought valiantly against her urge to pull away, growing ever more conscious of the agony being inflicted on her fresh piercings as a result of her movement.

By now Eva had decided that tickling with the paintbrush was not nearly enough fun. So she retrieved her vial of acid and dipped the brush inside. This time as she traced the brush over Madison's instep, across her heels, and between her toes she didn't elicit involuntary chuckles, she extracted agonized screams! The thrashing of her burning feet nearly tore the clamp from her stretched tongue. Eva cackled with delight from the effect that the acid was having on the bound girl.

Once Judge Kellerman had reddened Nicole's back to a shade closely matching her flayed tits and Eva had burned a satisfactory area of Madison's feet, the pair decided to take a break. Eva checked on her quartet of crawling slaves. They had long since completed their one thousand laps in the required time period, but in the absence of alternate orders they had continued their tortured trip around and around the center post. Eva, true to her word, unchained the women and allowed them to eat their dinner - one large can of dog food each, plopped into a dog bowl and then pissed on by herself and the judge.

Upon viewing the slaves scarf down their miserable meals with their faces mashed into the dog bowls, the pair decided to have their own dinners served to them down in the dungeon. They dined by candlelight, taking the opportunity to get to know each other better, while they watched the four carousel slaves take turns whipping the wax off of each others backs. Unfortunately, one of the girls failed to notice a spot of dried wax on the back of her partner's hand so the quartet was sentenced to another thousand laps. Eva generously gave them all until the next morning to complete the task, though of course that meant that the team would be spending the night chained ass to mouth around the carousel!

The moans and groans from the suffering slaves as they were forced back into position around the post so thoroughly aroused the two sadists that they took a break to have sex while laying on top of the final unattached girl. They fucked like animals, pawing wildly at each other's bodies, feeding off each other's passion. Eva viciously twisted the slave's nipples as she came, making a duet of screams - pleasure and pain, harmonizing together in one brief moment of extremes.

As for Nicole, by the time the final slave had been linked back up, the night was getting late, so the decision was made to postpone her interrogation until the next day. She was packed away in a nice, tight cage with a good view of the other condemned Jews as they began their interminable laps once again. She would have the night to decide whether she wanted to confess to being a Jew herself, or endure the tortures of her Nazi interrogators as they sought the 'truth'. In the end it didn't really matter what she chose - she was certain to find pain, humiliation, degradation, and abuse regardless. Group XS would not be denied.

Chapter 7 - The Kids Aren't Alright

New York City

Present Day

Catherine Grace stepped out of the courtroom and switched on her phone. It had been another successful prosecution. Simone Simmons, a beautiful young black girl, picked up for the second time for prostitution. The first time she'd been given a slap on the wrist and a kick out the door. This time, however, Judge Kellerman was presiding over her trial. Mercy was not in that man's vocabulary. He was practically salivating as he sentenced Simone to four years in Harden Maximum Security Prison, his eyes fixed on Simone's generous chest the entire time. It was a longer sentence than even what the prosecution had asked for, but, Catherine shrugged, a win's a win.

It had been a few days since Catherine had last talked to Tania Sarducci. She'd spent all her free time digging into the details of her story. Officially her job was to prosecute crimes, not investigate them, so she could hardly justify spending much more of her workday on the case. For all she knew, Tania could have been lying about the whole thing. Though after seeing the tears in her eyes as she told her story, Catherine couldn't possibly believe it was anything but the truth.

She'd called in every favor that she had to get more information about Saavik and Zorhof. She had searches put in on every database she could think of: FBI, Interpol, Human Rights Watch, and more. That's why she could feel her pulse quicken when she turned on her phone and saw an email waiting for her with the subject 'Found Him'.

She hurriedly opened the email to read the details. It had to be Dr. Saavik. Was he a wanted fugitive? Had he been picked up somewhere? Maybe he was dead? She hoped the evil bastard was serving time in some faraway Russian gulag. She was stunned when she saw that the hit for her search had come from the U.S. Department of Immigration and Naturalization!

She quickly perused the details: name - Victor Saavik, age - 52, height, weight, education, country of origin, yadda, yadda... current residence - Catherine was floored. Not only was Dr. Saavik free, not only had he been granted legal residency in the United States, not only was he gainfully employed as a psychiatrist at a mental hospital, but he was also living just two hours away!

Catherine could feel a cold sweat gather as the implications set in. Dr. Saavik, free and working here in the U.S., it just couldn't be. There must be some mistake. She scrolled down to the bottom of the dossier and she saw his photo - intense blue eyes, hair fully gray now, and a broad warm grin that bristled with malice. This had to be him. There was only one way to know for sure.

--

ICE Detention Center

A few hours later...

Catherine nervously approached Tania's cell, the printed out dossier in hand. She entered and looked at Tania, then had second thoughts. The poor girl had been through so much at the hands of this man, could she stand to know that he was free and possibly still operating?

"What is it?" Tania asked, reading Catherine's hesitation.

"I may have found Dr. Saavik," she said. "But I can't be certain that it's him. I'd like to show you a photo, if that's ok."

The mere mention of the man's name set Tania trembling, but she bravely swallowed her fear. "I'll do anything if it might help bring an end to his terrible deeds."

Catherine slid the photo out of the dossier that she had printed out and held it up. Tania didn't need to say anything. The look of sheer terror on her face was enough to know that this was the man who had tormented her for two years back in Russia.

"That's... that's him!" Tania said, aghast. "His hair didn't used to be fully gray, but that's him. Where is he? What has happened to him?"

Fast as lightning Tania jumped up and snatched the dossier out of Catherine's hands. She quickly scanned the document and completely lost it.

"He's here! He's here! He's coming for me!" she screamed. "I have to escape! I have to get out of here! He's coming to punish me!"

Catherine did her best to try and calm Tania down, but she was beyond consolation. She tried to explain that Saavik had no idea that Tania was in the United States, that she was being safely held by ICE, but it was no use. She eventually had to peel herself away from the terrified woman and leave her alone in her cell.

So, Dr. Saavik was in the U.S., she said to herself. Now what? She certainly couldn't schedule a therapy session with him at his practice and then ask him, "Are you a violent and sadistic psychopath who tortures innocent young women for fun?"

She did have his mailing address and a place of business. Maybe the next step would be to poke around and see if any suspicious disappearances had occurred in those areas akin to what he and his companions did in Russia. She had to do this very carefully. If Saavik became suspicious then he might just up and disappear.

---

The Farm

Present Day

At that exact same moment, Dr. Saavik just so happened to be sitting in his own private quarters at the Group XS compound. "When I snap my fingers," he said to the unconscious girl sitting across from him on his couch, "you will awaken."

Snap.

Hannah Firman opened her eyes. Where was she? She didn't remember this room. She looked down at her wrists. She'd finally been freed of the leather straps that had bound them together for the past few days, though the bruises still remained. What was she wearing? She wondered curiously as she looked down at the frilly pink dress that she had on. She also wore white knee high socks and a pair of Mary Janes on her feet. Her long blond hair had been braided into a pair of pigtails that hung down to each shoulder. Growing up, she had always looked young, which seemed to draw in all the creeps - not the least of which was her awful uncle, but this outfit made her look downright juvenile.

"How do you feel?" the man sitting across from her asked.

"I feel fine," Hannah answered, surprising herself by the babydoll voice that she used. She cleared her throat and answered again. "I feel fine." Her voice was still high and squeaky.

Dr. Saavik smiled broadly. The first of his hypnotic suggestions was working. The doctor had spent the last few hours with Hannah under deep hypnosis. He learned all about her past, all about her hopes and fears - especially her fears. He had pried every intimate detail out of her.

Hannah had been orphaned as a teenager and sent to live with her awful uncle. Her uncle had ruled her with a rod of iron, or at least a rattan cane, taking obvious pleasure in using the cane on her at every opportunity. He had also made her dress for him at all times when she was in the house as a little girl, or a caricature of one anyway. Her wardrobe at her uncle's house comprised nothing more than her school outfits and a collection of revealing satin outfits he demanded she wear with stockings, suspenders and high heels.

Hannah's uncle would use the cane on her if she were late home from school, if she failed to get good grades, if he thought she didn't show him enough respect, virtually for any infraction of his demanding rules. And worst of all, he would take a sadistic delight in tying her up and putting her in what he called the “punishment box”, an old steel travelling trunk which sat at the foot of his bed, if he felt the punishment merited it.

It was from this that Hannah had developed a crippling case of claustrophobia. In fact, when Master V had picked her up, the poor girl had had a panic attack simply from being thrown in an empty five by eight holding room - he hadn't even done anything to her yet. She had fled her uncle's house shortly after turning eighteen and had been living on the streets ever since then. The offer of a hot meal and a warm bed had been too irresistible, so she had come willingly with Master V.

Hannah looked nervously around the finely decorated room. "Is something wrong?" Saavik asked kindly.

"The bad man..." Hannah said, looking over her shoulder for Master V, who had kidnapped her, locked her in a room, and abused her for the past few days.

"I made him go away," Saavik said calmly. "There's no need to be afraid of him now." The unsaid part was that there was plenty reason to be afraid of the man sitting across from her. She just didn't know it yet.

"Where's your mummy and daddy?"

"They're... gone," she said sadly.

"Oh, that's too bad. So you have no one to look after you and protect you?"

Hannah shuddered as she thought of her uncle. "No."

"Hmm," said Saavik thoughtfully. "Would you like it if I looked after you?" He gave her his biggest, warmest smile.

"Ok," Hannah said uncertainly.

"Excellent! You may call me Uncle Saavik. Though I must warn you. While you are staying here I expect you to follow my rules precisely. Understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Saavik."

"Good. Let's take you to where you'll be staying."

He took her by the hand and led her out of the room and down some stairs. Just walking down the narrow hallway was triggering Hannah's claustrophobia, so she kept her gaze down on her shoes. Unfortunately, in doing so, she missed the words stencilled on the various doors that they passed: leather dungeon, bondage suite, slave storage, and others. She didn't look up until after they had entered a room labeled 'Age Play Suite'.

There was a short hallway decorated in bright pastels with bedrooms along either side. Many of the doors were closed, but Hannah's concern grew with each open one that she passed. In one room there was an oversized baby crib. A woman wearing nothing but an overfull diaper looked hopefully out at the pair from between the bars as they passed. She had a pair of fluffy pink mittens tied onto her hands, and had an adult-sized pacifier strapped into her mouth. A frilly pink bonnet covered her tight brown curls. From her red eyes, it was apparent that the woman had been crying recently, perhaps from the whip marks on her flat chest and small tits.

In the next room there was a woman sitting in an adult-sized high chair. Her wrists had been strapped to the armrests and she wore a colorful bib across her chest which said 'Big Girl' in a flowery font. The woman seated beside her was spoon-feeding something to her from a jar. Whatever it was must have been truly awful, considering the disgusted face that the bound woman made as it was forced into her mouth. The doting caretaker angrily admonished her whenever any dribbled out of her mouth and down onto her bib.

The next room was even worse. There was a girl in a blue and green plaid school uniform bent over a triangular frame. Cuffs above her frilly white ankle socks held her legs to the frame and two more cuffs on her wrists held her arms down on the other side. Her short pleated skirt had been flipped up over her waist and her white cotton panties had been pulled down to her knees. Her red ass wriggled back and forth beside a shirtless man wielding a wooden paddle.

"Please daddy, please, no more!" the girl begged. "Please daddy! I'll be good! I promise!"

Hannah's step faltered and the blood drained from her face. "What's going on here?" she asked fearfully.

Saavik held her hand tighter and pulled her along. "Nothing that needs to concern you. The mommies and daddies here take discipline very seriously. As long as you behave, you have nothing to worry about."

They entered through the next door into a room decorated for a little girl. There was a dollhouse in one corner, and a brightly colored dresser in another corner. A nice soft princess-themed bed was pressed up against the far wall. After spending the past few nights sleeping on a hardwood floor in a room the size of a large closet, the bed looked wonderful to Hannah. Uncle Saavik took a seat in a wooden chair in the middle of the room and gestured for Hannah to sit on a fluffy purple cube across from him.

"We need to talk," Saavik said seriously. "It's my understanding that you've been spending the last few days with an older man. Is this true?"

If you considered 'spending time' being kidnapped, beaten, and raped then Hannah had, indeed, been spending a lot of time with Master V lately. "Yes, Uncle Saavik, but-"

The doctor cut her off before she could explain. "I see. And have you showed this man your naked body?"

"Well, yes," Hannah replied, remembering how Master V had threatened her with a knife before using it to cut away all her clothes and leaving her trembling on the floor, naked and afraid. "But that's only because-"

Again Saavik cut her off. "I don't need to hear your excuses," he sneered. "This is unacceptable behavior for a young lady. I'm afraid you've earned yourself a spanking."

Hannah by now had realized that Uncle Saavik's promise to 'look after' her was not quite the generous reprieve that she thought it was. Tears filled her eyes as he instructed her to bring him the hairbrush from the dresser in the corner. "Please Uncle Saavik, I can explain," she begged.

"I don't want to hear another word, and if I do then you'll earn a more severe punishment," he snapped. "Now lower your panties and lay across my knee."

A sobbing Hannah handed him the hairbrush and did as she was told. She pulled her white cotton panties down to her knees and draped herself facedown across Saavik's lap, pressing her big, braless tits into his thigh. She realized with growing concern that the man's hard cock was pressing against his trousers and jabbing her in the side.

Saavik lifted the frightened girl's skirt and admired her pale white ass. Then he began beating a steady rhythm on her quivering butt with the flat back of the hairbrush, alternating sides with every strike. Hannah, no stranger to a beating due to her unfortunate upbringing, took the spanking like a champ. She bit her lip and resisted squirming as Saavik turned her pale ass pink.

When he finally finished he said, "I hope you know I did that for your own good. Ok? Though I couldn't help but notice how well you took that spanking. I take it you have had spankings before?"

Hannah thought back to the terrible beatings her cruel uncle had inflicted on her, to call them spankings didn't do them justice. He was a nightmare when he was drunk and got going with his rattan cane. "Yes, sir," she mumbled.

"Hmm," said Dr. Saavik. "It seems that they have done you no good. I think, perhaps, you may require a harsher punishment to correct your deviant behavior."

Hannah didn't like the sound of that. She remained draped over Saavik's knee, waiting for permission to pull up her panties and contemplate her disappointing new future. After a moment's pause Saavik asked, "Tell me, Hannah. Have you had sex with this older man?"

Hannah felt her blood run cold. Saavik clearly knew that she had. While he had her locked away, Master V only came to visit her in order to bring her food and water, and to rape her under the threat of his thick leather strap. This whole conversation had been a way to lead her into receiving harsher punishment.

"Uh huh," Hannah said, with growing dread.

"Just in your pussy?" Saavik asked.

Hannah shook her head.

"Where else?" he insisted.

"In my mouth," Hannah sobbed.

"And?"

"And... and in my bottom," she said. She was crying hard now, just imagining what harsher punishments her Uncle Saavik had in store for her.

"This simply will not do," Saavik admonished.  "Your behavior is totally unacceptable. Fortunately my friends here have recently started a special school for wayward girls such as yourself. I think it would do you good to be enrolled in that school. As luck would have it, the first class meets tomorrow. One of your classmates, Emily, has been so excited to attend that she insisted on wearing her school uniform all day today. Would you like to see it?"

Hannah nodded sullenly. Saavik slid her off his lap and onto the floor. He walked over to an intercom mounted on the wall and pressed a button. When a woman answered Saavik said, "Ilsa? Would you be so kind as to bring Emily West down to us? Hannah would like to see her in her school uniform."

Ilsa agreed to bring Emily down. In the meantime, Saavik turned back to Hannah. "While we wait, I think it's best that we resume your punishment. Take off all of your clothes."

Hannah quickly shed her dress, socks, and shoes, tossing them in a pile next to her.

"That is how you treat the clothing you've been given?" Saavik grumbled. "Pick them up! Fold them nicely, and put them on the bed."

Hannah was trembling in fear as she folded and moved her clothes. Meanwhile, Saavik opened the top drawer of the dresser and withdrew a ball gag and a pair of leather cuffs. "Put these on," he said, throwing the items at her. "I want your hands behind your back."

Saavik sat back down in the chair while Hannah struggled to get the oversized ball gag in behind her teeth and buckled in place. After she locked her wrists together behind her back, he patted his knee for Hannah to come lay across it again. This time he had Hannah lay across one knee while he draped his other leg across the back of her thighs to pin her in place. With one hand he grabbed a firm hold of her pigtails and with the other he picked up the hairbrush again.

"Remember, this is for your own good."

Whack! He brought the hairbrush down hard on her beautifully presented backside, but this time he didn't use the flat back of the brush. Instead he used the bristled side. If it had been a normal hairbrush, the bristles likely would have broken from the impact. But this hairbrush had pointy metal tines that could withstand the hardest of impacts. It's almost as if the hairbrush had been designed to inflict an absolutely brutal beating!

Hannah shrieked and bucked from the first strike of the pointy brush on her buttocks, but Saavik held her down, pinning her in place with his tight grip on her hair and the strength of his leg. He brought the brush down again. Hannah screamed and screamed. The first traces of blood began to trickle out where the tines had pierced her skin. She brought her cuffed hands down to her ass to try and protect herself from further attacks.

"Keep your hands at your back, or I'll beat your tits next!" Saavik growled.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Hannah's frantic squirming threatened to slide her off of Saavik's lap, but he merely tightened his grip and directed his fury into her increasingly battered backside. Whack! Whack! Hannah began to hyperventilate. The tears poured like rain from her eyes. Whack! Whack!

He didn't stop until the door to the bedroom swung open. A short, squat woman with close cropped black hair entered. Trailing behind her and led on a leash was Emily, dressed as Group XS's version of a schoolgirl. She was covered in rubber or leather from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and it was immediately apparent that she was neither comfortable nor able to move about very easily.

She had a heavy leather hood covering her head which had holes on either side through which her light brown tresses had been drawn like pigtails. Atop the leather discipline helmet, which had no eye holes, was a little leather and rubber caricature of a school hat with 'XS School' in large letters on the hatband and, written just beneath, the school motto: "Maximus Excruscio" (or 'the most extreme pain') in smaller letters. There was a large rubber re-breather bag hanging from the nose of the hood on a rubber pipe. It was slowly inflating and deflating with each slow and painful breath from the girl within, who'd been winded by her march down to meet Saavik and Hannah.

Emily's upper body was held in what looked like a schoolgirl's pinafore dress, except this one was made of rubber and had a built-in corset which reduced her already slender waist dramatically. Her breasts stuck out, independent of the dress, bound in two sacks of rubber which had thin little straps encircling them. The straps, spaced every half inch or so, were pulled so taut that her tits bulged out between the gaps in them.

This dress didn't have any sleeves. Instead Emily's arms were folded behind her inside the dress and secured immovably by something beneath. The pleated skirt stopped short of her crotch, ensuring that Emily's special 'school panties' were prominently on display.

Of course, these were no ordinary panties. They were black, high-waisted, control panties made from heavy rubber and leather and had a thin strap running between her legs. The strap had been drawn so tight that it was only visible where it ran over a leather panel in the front before it delved into a deep crevice between Emily's legs, only to emerge on the other side at the top of her buttocks, just below the hem of her skirt. The square cut panties ran to the tops of her thighs and secured with a tight belt and a padlock on each, pulled so tight that her flesh bulged beneath the opening. It was clear that these panties were at least two sizes too small, but somehow Emily had been wrestled into them regardless.

From the legs of the panties hung several suspenders on each side to hold up Emily's thigh high rubber stockings. The stockings were clear with a dark band around the top and an imitation seam running down the back. On her feet, Emily wore her school shoes - shiny black patent stilettos with a seven inch heel, locked in place with a padlock through the ankle strap.

Hannah, who had been dumped to the floor once Emily had arrived, looked up at her newly arrived 'classmate' in horror. Emily, blinded by her hood and struggling with one of Group XS's favored 'choke gags' underneath, stood diligently at attention, teetering on her impossibly tall heels and fighting for fresh air from the rebreather bag.

"What do you think?" Saavik asked, leaning down to taunt a miserable Hannah. "Doesn't she look so delightfully uncomfortable? We made sure to give her the largest metal dildos that we thought we could fit in her pussy and ass. Of course, we have other uniforms as well - more and less restrictive, depending upon the lesson for the day. I bet you can't wait to try on your own uniform, but that will have to wait until tomorrow."

"In the meantime," he continued, setting down the hairbrush, "we must continue your punishment. Bad behavior cannot go unchecked or it will continue to be a problem. Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement that I must attend to so the rest of your punishment will involve some quiet reflection so that you can think about what you've done."

Hannah was a little relieved that she'd be left in peace, though after seeing poor Emily in her school uniform, she wasn't so naive as to think she'd be unrestrained. Saavik uncuffed her wrists and then walked over to the bed and dragged out a wooden crate from underneath. He flipped it open and pulled out a lump of leather, then he set it down on the floor and unrolled it like a sleeping bag.

"Please climb in."

Hannah looked at the bag, then looked pitifully back at Saavik. His stern glare implied that there was no room to negotiate. Hannah crawled over to the bag. She lifted the opening and slid her legs inside.

"Mmmph!" Hannah objected, squealing in pain as her legs brushed against the hundreds of tiny sharp spikes lining the inside of the bag! She looked fearfully back at her cruel 'uncle'.

"Do NOT make me repeat myself," he said sternly.

Hannah picked up the opening again and carefully slid her legs into the leather sack, groaning the entire time as the spikes pricked and poked her - it felt like she was climbing into a bag full of cacti.

"You'll find that there's individual sleeves for each leg," Saavik added unhelpfully after Hannah had already jammed both feet down one hole and had to painfully reverse course to correct herself. She found that as her feet settled into the ends of her prickly pants that they were forced into a pointed position by the stiff leather at the bottom. Hannah had to pause to recollect herself as her battered ass raked across the spikes and was hugged by the snug leather.

"Don't worry about zipping it up. I'll help you with that."

Hannah found the holes for the internal sleeves meant for her arms. These ended in stiff gloves that prevented her from so much as wiggling a finger. She screamed in pain as Saavik rolled her onto her front, mashing her tits into the spikes, and then closing the zipper from her hip up to the back of her neck. A small padlock was snapped closed on the zipper to ensure that it wouldn't budge as Hannah struggled. Though the girl had every reason not to move since every squirm only served to grind the spikes into her trapped flesh.

Now Saavik rolled her onto her back again and worked his way up the leather bag, starting at her feet, tightening down the straps sewn into the outside of the bag every three or four inches. By the time he'd made it up to the broad strap that buckled across her tits, Hannah was red-faced and hysterical, banging her head against the floor. The tightness of her bondage completely immobilized her and was triggering her severe claustrophobia. Saavik went back and tightened down every strap again, making sure to pull as much slack as possible out of each one.

Saavik then retrieved a silver egg connected by wire to a small controller. After lubing it up with the drool pouring out from around Hannah's ball gag he brought it between her legs. To Hannah's surprise, there was a slit in the leather bondage bag which provided access to her pussy. Saavik pulled the slit aside and tugged her labia out through the spiked opening, then he slipped the silver egg up into her cunt. He pressed a button on the controller and the egg came to life inside her with a barely perceptible, and not at all unpleasant, vibrating motion.

Next Saavik pulled a long leather strap from the wooden crate. He then propped up Hannah in a sitting position. She groaned as her weight dug the pointy spikes into her battered ass. The tight, stiff leather wanted to force her body straight again, but Saavik wouldn't let that happen. He pressed her further forward until she was bent double, with her face nearly touching her legs. Then he took the leather strap and looped it behind her knees and around her upper back. When he let go, Hannah remained bent at the waist, the tight leather covering her ass was stretched so tight it threatened to burst at the seams. He pulled another strap out of the crate and rocked Hannah onto her back so that he could pull her feet down near the backs of her thighs and secure them there. Hannah was now immobilized, with her body balled up, and hundreds of tiny pins poking and scraping her all over.

"You've got a busy day tomorrow, so it's probably best to get you tucked in for the night," Saavik grinned.

Hannah glanced over at the bed. Trussed up as she was, it would hardly provide a way to sleep in any comfort.

"Oh no, no, no," Saavik said, reading Hannah's gaze. "The bed is for good girls. I have somewhere else for bad girls to spend the night."

He pulled the wooden crate a little closer. Hannah braced herself for what terrible new thing he'd pull out of it this time. But instead of reaching down into the crate, he leaned over and picked up Hannah in his arms. As he hefted over the empty box she realized where it was he intended her to spend the night - inside the crate!

Hannah screamed in terror. She begged and pleaded around the large ball gag. She struggled futilely in her tight bondage. But Saavik readily slipped her inside the tight confines, smiling broadly the whole time. Even with the straps holding her bent knees to her chest, she still had to squeeze herself smaller to fit within the narrow sides of the crate 

When Hannah touched down on the bottom, she screamed again - this time in pain. Running along the middle, all the way from the front side to the back, was a narrow metal ridge, several inches high. As her body settled in, she found her entire weight resting on her pussy, mashing it between the hard metal and her pelvis. She tried to rock herself forward or off to one side, but the small space offered no movement. The best she could manage was to strain against the stiff leather bondage bag and shift some of her weight onto her pointed toes.

"There. The perfect spot for you to sit and think about your behavior." Saavik glanced over at Emily, who had been blindly standing at attention this whole time, oblivious to what was going on around her. "I imagine you're very excited for your first day of school tomorrow. In fact," he walked over to Emily, "I bet Emily would be happy to let you try on her school hood for the night."

Hannah frantically shook her head 'no'. She was terrified of the hood. It was so tight, so restrictive, she couldn't imagine anything worse for her crippling claustrophobia. Saavik ignored her and turned to Emily. He detached the rebreather bag and began tugging at the buckles and laces around Emily's head. After some effort he managed to peel the leather hood free, prying the large attached choke gag out of her aching jaw. He returned to Hannah and removed the ball gag from her mouth.

"Please, please Uncle Saavik! Don't put that on me! I'm extremely claustrophobic. I'll do anything! Just please don't put that on me! Please!"

"Nonsense. The best way to confront a phobia is head-on. This can only help."

He stifled further protest by working the large gag, still covered in Emily's saliva, into her mouth. Then after carefully feeding her blond braids through the holes in the top, he began tightening down the laces and straps. Hannah shrieked in terror as her world was cast into darkness and she felt the tight leather closing in all around her. Air frittered in and out rapidly through the tiny nose holes giving testament to her panic. Her screams turned to gags as she inadvertently bit down on the choke gag and it expanded into the back of her throat. Her compressed tongue explored the dozens of bite marks in the gag, an ominous warning from the women who had worn the hood before her.

With the hood fully secured Saavik reattached the rebreather, stuffing the large inflatable bag down into the box. Hannah immediately found her short, panicked breaths incompatible with the operation of the rebreather. She could feel herself growing lightheaded. She forced herself to take longer, slower, more deliberate breaths and somehow managed to find some fresh air. That is, until Saavik reached down and flipped the top of the crate closed, pressing Hannah's head forward into her knees. That sent Hannah's terror spiraling. Her tortured screams were heavily muted by the gag, the hood, and the wooden walls of the crate.

Saavik slid the crate back beneath the bed, adjacent to two other ones just like it. Whether or not they were currently occupied was difficult to tell just by looking at them. There was certainly no shortage of naughty girls deserving a night of cramped, painful, claustrophobic hell - at least as far as Group XS was concerned. This was the thought running through Emily West's mind as she watched Saavik tidy away poor Hannah. Unfortunately, his plans for her were much worse.

"Emily," he said with an evil grin. "I'm so glad you could join me. I was just looking for a beautiful young woman to be my date for a party I'm holding later."

A shiver of dread ran through Emily. An evening with Dr. Saavik was sure to be painful, humiliating, or both.

"Come with me."

Saavik walked out the door and back to his personal quarters at a brisk pace. Emily struggled to keep up as she wobbled along on her impossibly high stiletto heels. With her arms pinned inside her dress she stood no chance of catching herself if she stumbled.

When they arrived at Saavik's apartment he helped her to remove her school uniform. Emily breathed a sigh of relief as she was removed from the tight, restrictive garments. She was freed of the stiff metal dildos that had been buried in her holes all day. He had her lick them clean before stowing them away.

Now Emily stood at attention, completely naked, awaiting Saavik's next command. She stared straight ahead, hands behind her head, elbows out, feet apart. Saavik circled around behind her. He reached up and grabbed her aching tits in his hands. He tenderly massaged them, rubbing his fingers along the impressions made in her skin by the tight bindings of her school dress. She could feel his hard dick pressing into the small of her back as his hands explored her body and he gave her tender kisses up and down her neck.

"We should get you ready for the party," he said after a minute. "First, your training bra."

He handed her something more like a leather harness than a bra. Emily slipped her arms through the loops and pulled it up to her chest. There were no cups to the bra. It was merely a series of leather straps that framed her tits. She buckled the item closed on her back, but was unsure what to do with the long leather laces that dangled down beneath each breast. Saavik solved that mystery for her. He took each pair of laces and wrapped them around and around the base of each breast as tightly as he could manage. Emily bit her lip and tried her best not to resist as it felt like tourniquets were being drawn around her tits. Once he had finished, she looked down to see them growing darker and darker as they stood straight out from her chest.

Next she was handed her 'party panties' - another leather affair, that was essentially a pair of high-waisted short shorts with laces on each side. She was unsurprised and dismayed to find that the crotch had an opening for her pussy and one for her ass, the inner part of each bristled with spikes while the exterior had thick padding. The implication was that during a rough fucking, only one partner would feel the spikes - Emily.

Once she had the shorts on, Saavik again 'helpfully' offered to lace them up for her. The thin leather was drawn smooth across her round bottom. Saavik stepped back to admire his date. "That should do," he said. "Come along."

Emily wasn't sure whether to be relieved that this was the extent of her bondage, or worried about how much flesh she had exposed. She made to follow Saavik as he exited his quarters, but he quickly stopped her and told her to follow on her hands and knees. She raced along, struggling to keep up with her master as he navigated the halls of the farmhouse to its large party room.

They entered and Emily could see various workers scrambling to assemble everything for the party later that evening. Saavik led her to kneel in front of a waist high table, no bigger than a school desk. He turned to her.

"Mistress Helga tells me that a few days ago you begged her not to fuck you with her strap-on. Is this true?"

"Yes, sir," Emily replied, keeping her eyes cast to the floor.

"And why is that?"

"She, she hurt me," Emily mumbled, tears forming in her eyes as she remembered the event.

Saavik suddenly slapped her hard across the face. "Speak up!" he ordered. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"She whipped my pussy until it was completely swollen," Emily loudly sobbed. "It hurt so much just to touch it that I couldn't stand to have her fuck me, sir."

"I see. And what is your purpose as a slave here if not to be fucked however and whenever your masters want? It was very naughty of you to try and deny Mistress Helga this pleasure. Stand up. Lean over this desk."

Emily climbed to her feet. From a standing position she could see now that the entire top of the desk bristled with dull metal spikes that pointed in all different directions, like on the bottom of golf shoes. She slowly lowered herself over the desk, resting her bulging purple tits on top of the spikes. A leather collar dangled down on the side of the desk near her head, Saavik came around to it and buckled it around her neck.

Next he grabbed one of her legs and bent it double. Before applying a strap around her ankle and thigh to hold it in place, he passed a loop of rope behind her knee. He then ran the rope through a ring high up on the ceiling so that her bound leg was held parallel to the floor. Emily grabbed onto the sides of the desk as he repeated the process with the other leg, passing that rope through a separate loop far apart from the other. Emily was now lying suspended from the ceiling, roughly horizontal, with her legs spread wide, and her trembling arms the only thing keeping her from mashing the majority of her weight onto her tightly wrapped tits, which grazed the spikes below.

Saavik walked around to Emily's head and fished his semi-erect penis out of his pants. "Suck my cock, slave. If I feel any teeth, then you won't have any by this time tomorrow."

Emily craned her neck to take Saavik's penis into her mouth. She did her very best to get him excited, licking and slurping all up and down his stiffening dick. While she was distracted by that, Saavik picked up the long leather strap that he had set nearby.

Whack! He swung the strap down hard between Emily's splayed legs, striking her square in the cunt.

"Aiyeeee!" Saavik's dicked popped free from Emily's mouth and she howled as her pussy blazed with pain, both from the sting of the strap, and the spikes in her panties that were slammed into her flesh.

"Keep sucking, whore!" Whack!

Emily tried her best to focus on her task as Saavik hit her again and again and again. Tears streaked from her eyes. She could hardly focus on the blowjob as her cunt was savagely beaten. Finally Saavik cast away the strap and withdrew his dick from Emily's mouth. Her arms trembled as they held her off the desk. She looked at the cruel doctor as he reached under the desk and pulled out a small blackboard and a nub of chalk.

"I would like you to write on here: I have been a naughty girl. Please fuck me hard!"

He thrust the blackboard into one hand and the chalk into the other. Emily groaned as she had to lower her bound and bulging tits fully onto the spikes to complete the task. Once it was done, Saavik took the blackboard and mounted it on the side of the desk. But before Emily could return her hands to propping her up, Saavik found a rope and bound her wrists together behind her back in a reverse prayer. Then he bundled her long hair into a ponytail and tied it into her wrists so that her head was pulled back.

"Do you know what I'm going to do now?" Saavik asked.

"You're going to fuck me? Hard," she replied miserably.

"That's right."

He came around behind her and stood between her parted legs. He took a moment to appreciate her twitchy trembling cunt, her swollen red labia peeked out from behind the slit in her panties. Emily moaned as he plunged fast and hard into her aching twat. He took long, slow strokes, enjoying the shudder when his pelvis made contact with her panties and slammed the spikes into her crotch. At the same time, his thrusts jostled her body, raking her tits across the spiked top of the desk.

Gradually he fucked her faster and faster. Soon he was throwing himself into her body, which was firmly tethered in place atop the desk. After another minute he reached down and picked up a controller with a single red button on it. He pushed himself all the way into her cunt and held there, then he pressed the button.

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!" Emily screamed as the spikes mashed into her tits came alive with electricity!

He held down the button for ten seconds, then twenty, then thirty while Emily writhed beneath him. "Oh my! That's delightful!" Saavik gushed. "It's like fucking a vibrator. I can feel your muscles clench and relax as the current surges through you!"

He pulled out of her cunt and took a try with her asshole, which in his opinion responded even better under the electricity. It wasn't long before he came, blasting his load deep up her butt.

"I think you'll do nicely, Miss West," Saavik mused as she licked his cock clean. "You'll be providing relief for all my guests tonight. I want you to beg each one of them to fuck you hard, anywhere they want. I want you to inform them that your pussy and ass spasm delightfully when the electricity is activated. And if I hear any complaints about your enthusiasm or willingness to serve then you will sorely regret it tomorrow. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Emily sobbed.

"Now, the party doesn't start for a little while yet. So we'll need something to keep you warmed up while you wait for the guests to arrive. Fortunately I've thought of just the thing."

He stalked over to a small metal door set in the wall and unlatched it. He dragged out the unfortunate slave who had been crammed inside the small compartment behind the door and dropped her to the floor.

"Come Madison," he ordered the stiff slave as she stretched her aching limbs - as best she could anyway. She was covered from head to toe in tight latex. Her arms were trapped behind her in an armbinder. Her legs were bound together in several places by leather straps. On her head she wore something akin to a gas mask. Her blue eyes peered out through two round glass windows on the upper part. The lower part covered her mouth and nose with a three inch round valve through which she was able to suck in air. Bound as she was, the slave followed Saavik by inching along the floor like a worm.

When Madison arrived Saavik was waiting for her with a massive dildo, easily ten inches long, and as thick as her wrist. He bent down and screwed the dildo onto the valve over her mouth. He stood up and watched the panic grow in Madison's eyes.

"Can't breathe?" Saavik teased.

"Mmmph, mmmph!" Madison frantically grunted from behind her mask.

"You'll find that there's a neat little valve near the bottom of the dildo. It will allow you to breathe out when you push on the dildo, and it will allow you to breathe in when you pull on the dildo," he explained. "Fortunately, Emily has a spare hole for you to use for just that purpose."

Madison didn't need to be told twice. She struggled to her knees and plunged the large cock into Emily's waiting cunt. Emily groaned as the huge cock plowed into her snatch, bottoming out at her cervix and stretching her hot, tight love tunnel.

"That's right. Nice long strokes. All the way in and all the way out. That's how you'll ensure that you get plenty of air." He watched her pump in and out a few more times. "Emily has graciously offered her holes for the use of my guests tonight. However, if at any point her pussy or ass is not otherwise occupied then I expect you to take their place. She is not to go more than sixty seconds without something pumping away inside her, otherwise you may find yourself trading places with her. Understood?"

"Mmm hmm," Madison assented, diligently pumping in and out.

"When your services are not needed then you may make use of the fake pussy mounted on the underside of the desk." What he didn't tell her was that the fake pussy was also rigged up to the electric shock device that made Emily wriggle so nicely. The current would travel down the dildo, through the valve of her mask, and into the large metal ball that Madison held in her mouth. She would quickly find that when she was not fucking Emily's battered cunt, she would soon wish she was.

"Anyway, have a good night! I'll be sure that someone comes along in the morning to return you two to your cells."

Saavik left to go grab dinner and prepare for the party.

---

Meanwhile, in New York City Catherine was working late. She'd pulled up all the records of suspicious disappearances or missing persons within a twenty mile radius of Saavik's last known address. There wasn't a smoking gun, but there was plenty of circumstantial evidence: missing hitchhikers, parole dodgers, and more - almost all of them young women. She just needed something more to connect the pieces. She finally made up her mind to go and stake out his address this weekend.

---

Back at the farm, Saavik had finished his dinner and dressed for the party. He just thought he'd check in on Hannah, tucked away in her little box, first. He slid the wooden crate out from under the bed. The sudden movement spurred a series of pitiful grunts from the unhappy occupant. Hannah had spent the past few hours fighting back waves of panic and terror.

She suffered from bouts of hyperventilating, which didn't fare well with the rebreather bag strapped to her face. She'd huff and puff faster and faster, which failed to expel the stale air from the bag. Eventually she'd grow so lightheaded that she was unable to sustain her frantic gasps and it'd finally allow her to gain some fresh air - at least until the next wave of panic came over her.

But the greater problem by far was the thin ridge nestled between her legs, upon which she sat. The longer her weight rested on it, the worse it ached. At first she had tried shifting about within the tiny space, trying desperately to find a position that was less excruciating, but there was nothing she could do. She was simply unable to escape the steady press of the narrow ridge against her pussy. 

Meanwhile, the little vibrator within her pussy continued humming away. At first Hannah paid it no regard, but as time went on it became impossible to ignore. The subtle sensations somehow managed to arouse her in spite of all her predicaments. Yet it wasn't enough stimulation to get her off. After nearly an hour of non-stop, unending stimulation her frustration hit its peak. She had desperately tried humping the metal ridge between her legs, hoping it'd be enough to get her off - it wasn't. All she got for her trouble was further frustration and an even sorer cunt.

Saavik leaned down and loudly rapped on the lid of the crate. "Hello? Hannah?" he called. "Are you doing alright in there?"

Hannah's muffled and desperate squeals were the reply. She'd have done anything at all to be freed from that box. It was total hell. Saavik laughed at her desperation and despair. The girl had only been in there for a few hours. Little did she know that her future contained many more confinements like this. She'd be spending days at a time hooded, immobile, trapped and terrified. And when they released her, they would make her beg and plead to do the most disgusting and depraved things to avoid being put back in a hood and shut inside an enclosed space. Invariably, once she had amused them for a while, once they had raped her and caned her, humiliated and degraded her, they would do just that - if only because her abject terror as she was packed away again was amusing to the group of sadists.

"I'll be back for you in the morning," Saavik called, loud enough to be heard inside. He grabbed the remote whose attached wire trailed into the bottom of the wooden box and cranked the knob to the maximum setting. "Pleasant dreams!"

Saavik slid the box back under the bed. Inside, Hannah was suddenly thrown off kilter as the vibrating egg inside her pussy immediately sprang to life with intensity. After being teased and denied for so long she instantly responded to the stimulus. She unconsciously bobbed up and down on her terrible perch as she was overcome by the strong sensations. She could focus on nothing else but the growing pleasure between her legs. It only took a minute for her mindless humping to push her over the edge. She saw stars inside her dark hood as the powerful orgasm left her trembling in delight.

Her moment of bliss only lasted a moment, however, before she was cast once again into her own personal hell. Her ill-advised squirming only left her panting for breath, and her poor crushed cunt hurt worse than ever before. What's more, the vibrator was still cranking away inside her at full power.

Hannah called out for relief. She begged for mercy. But Saavik had already left. She was trapped and alone. Isolated, with nothing to focus on but her panic, her fear, her pain, and her overstimulated pussy. With dread she could already feel her arousal brewing once again. Before the night was through she would cum a dozen more times. There would be little to no sleep for her. And when she was finally released, she would have to contend with 'Uncle' Saavik's awful new school.

---

Saavik walked into the party room to see that things were already in full swing. The guests chatted and smiled, amusing themselves with the various 'entertainment' at their disposal. He smiled as he saw how popular Emily was. At the moment, she had one dick in her pussy and another in her mouth, writhing in pain as the man behind her activated the electric shocks to her tits in time with his thrusts. A third partygoer walked up to them wielding a cane. She slammed it down hard against Emily's tightly wrapped ass. Emily screamed into the cock pressed against her throat.

"That was amazing!" the man pumping away at her cunt called out. "When you struck her ass, it sent a shiver through her cunt. Do it again!"

The woman with the cane happily obliged. She snapped down the cane again and again in time with the man's thrusts. It was going to be a long night for Emily. She would be raped. She would be caned. She would have electricity jolted through her flattened tits as they rubbed back and forth across the studded desk. She would take cocks by ones and by twos. The female partygoers would participate as well, using strap-ons, fists, and even bottles. Emily's agonized wails would only egg them on further. And in the brief moments of respite from the attention of the guests, Madison would crawl out from under the desk and continue her unceasing rape.

Saavik would arrive the next morning, long after all the guests had left, to find the pair still dancing their intimate dance - Madison's huge dildo, slowly sliding in and out, in and out, into Emily's swollen, battered, and abused cunt. The exhausted girl was certain to have a rough first day of school and was sure make a bad first impression on her doting teacher, just as Saavik hoped.

Chapter 8 - She's Got Issues

The Farm

Present Day

Catherine looked up at the bright blue sky and stretched her aching back. She'd been monitoring the entrance to the farmhouse for hours from her perch hidden up in a tree in the property across the street. She had parked her car off the road in a concealed location and grabbed her binoculars to see what she could see. Unfortunately, it wasn't much. Tall, thick trees seemed to surround the property on all sides, in addition to the very un-farmlike perimeter fence, topped with barbed wire, that stood in front of that.

She could only just barely make out the roof of the large farmhouse through her binoculars. She'd already been here for a couple of hours, waiting, watching, hoping that she'd see something that she could use to further her investigation. But aside from a few cars coming and going through the sturdy gate at the end of the driveway, she'd seen nothing.

She finished stretching her back, looked up toward the warm sun, and took a deep breath. Then she raised the binoculars once again and resumed her surveillance.

---

As it happened, Mistress XS was standing under the same bright blue sky as Catherine. She was in the backyard of the large farmhouse, watching as Master V and his assistant wrestled the heavy concrete lid off of the tank embedded in the ground nearby. She turned to the naked slave kneeling by her side. The slave trembled from the slight chill in the air, and the terrifying aura Mistress XS seemed to emanate. Her wrists had been bound in front of her. Her ankles had likewise been tied. The dark cloth bag pulled over her head had a growing wet spot in front of her mouth where the drool from her large ring gag collected.

"Kate, do you know what happens to naughty slaves who piss on the floor without permission?" Mistress XS asked.

"Unngh uh," Kate replied, shaking her head beneath the bag.

"They get to spend a day learning that that is unacceptable behavior," Mistress XS answered. "They get to spend a day in The Tank!"

She said this last part with a flourish, yanking the bag free from Kate's head just as her two associates lifted the lid free. Kate was practically knocked over by the stench that wafted up from the hole in the ground. Mistress XS laughed in delight as Kate dry heaved before her.

Master V and his partner each grabbed a length of rope that had been held up out of the tank by the heavy lid. They hauled on the ropes and, to Kate's horror, she saw someone emerge from beneath the sludge and filth below. They dumped the miserable stinking wretch into the dirt before her. After a kick to the gut, the poor woman vomited up the contents of her stomach and coughed out the liquid that had found its way into her lungs while she was being removed from the tank.

"Kate, meet Hannah," Mistress XS said. "Hannah here pissed herself on her very first day of school. Mistress Helga was giving her an insightful lesson on nipple play and she just couldn't control herself. Needless to say, her Uncle Saavik will be very disappointed to learn that she missed her second day of classes because of this punishment. But anyway, she's served her time, and now it's your turn, Kate! Do you have any advice for your friend, Hannah?"

Hannah merely groaned, trembling with exhaustion on the ground in a heap.

"No? Well then I'll just let you know there's a handle on the underside of the lid. You can use that to hold yourself up to the surface. I don't think you'll find yourself wanting for food or drink, but if you value being able to breathe then you'll try and locate the small hole in the the lid through which you should be able to get some air. Got it?"

Mistress XS didn't wait for a reply. While she was talking, Master V had tied a rope to Kate's wrists and one to her ankles. Then he picked up the struggling girl, who was profusely apologizing and begging not to go. With a nod from Mistress XS, he dropped her into the tank with a splash.

Kate panicked as her head sank beneath the surface. Her mouth filled with the muck due to her it being propped open by the gag. She scrambled back to the surface and coughed out the sludge that had filled her nose and mouth. She opened her eyes just in time to see the heavy concrete lid coming down towards her. Her frantic screams were silenced as the slab closed with a thud.

Kate's face was forced beneath the surface once more by the heavy slab, which rested just above the waterline. Kate searched about for the handle on the underside of the lid. It was a tiny loop, just big enough for her to thread one finger through. With that she pulled her body about, searching for the airhole Mistress XS had promised. She found the hole. It was the size of a tea plate, just big enough for her to stick her mouth and nose above the surface when she craned her neck. She pressed her face against the hole and took a breath of the smelly, putrid air. A moment later she recoiled in horror as Mistress XS activated the recirculation pump, which sucked up the slop from the bottom of the tank and poured it out through a pipe above the airhole. For the duration of her stay she'd have a steady trickle of effluent pouring into her open mouth. In addition to that, anytime someone in the farmhouse flushed the toilet, Kate would have that wave of raw sewage wash down over her face.

Mistress XS watched the lid settle into place, then she asked Master V to take Hannah inside to get cleaned up. She was sure that Dr. Saavik would want to give his 'little girl' a stern talking to about her school behavior. Unfortunately she had other matters to attend to.

---

Katie wasn't sure how long she had been in the hands of Group XS. She had been kicked out of her religious mother's house after it was discovered that she was a 'sinful' lesbian. Before she could figure out where to go, or what to do, she had been picked up by Group XS. Since then she'd been subjected to constant humiliation and torment. Lately she'd been spending a lot of time with Dr. Zorhof, who just loved the way Katie trembled whenever she pulled out one of her dreadful syringes. That explained her anxiety about her current situation.

Katie had been strapped inside a tall rectangular metal frame. Her bare feet stood on the narrow bar at the bottom. Her neck and wrists had been locked into three iron circles on the top side of the rectangle. A metal band around each thigh was chained to either side of the frame to help hold her in place. At waist height on the sides there was a hinge. The bottom part of the frame was securely mounted vertically from the floor, but the top part was able to pivot on the hinge, allowing Katie to bend her upper body forward. However, that was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

A couple hours earlier, before Dr. Zorhof had mounted both Katie and another girl named Molly to these identical frames, she had asked the girls which one of them wanted to try out the new 'fire serum' that she had developed. Of course neither girl was willing to subject herself to one of Dr. Zorhof's awful concoctions, so the diabolical doctor came up with a way for the two to decide between themselves.

She locked the girls into the frames facing each other, about six feet apart. Then she placed a sort of metal table in front of each girl. But these tables didn't have normal flat surfaces. Instead each table had two round depressions which would line up perfectly with either girl's tits if she were to bend forward at the waist. Unfortunately for the girls, the breast-sized depressions also had several holes through which Dr. Zorhof was able to place several syringes sticking up from beneath. If one or both of the girls bent forward far enough, she would find herself pressing four needles each into her soft, vulnerable breasts. Then with just a little more pressure, the unhappy 'volunteer' would depress the plungers to release the horrible toxin.

Of course neither girl was eager to play the part of test subject for the wicked doctor, so they were absolutely determined not to bend forward. Especially once each girl realized that the hinges on the frame had a ratchet mechanism which would only allow her to bend farther forward, but not lift herself back up again.

Molly was the first of the two to discover this dastardly feature when, after waiting patiently for a volunteer, the doctor decided to speed things along - with her bullwhip! She stealthily positioned herself behind Molly and uncoiled her whip. When the first slash landed across the unsuspecting girl's back, she screamed and tipped forward. After she had recovered from the stinging slash she found that she couldn't bring herself fully upright again. She was stuck, bent forward by about fifteen degrees. The panic and the realization showed clearly on her face as she realized what was happening. For the following strikes of the whip she made every effort to keep herself from moving any farther forward.

After ten strikes to Molly's back, the doctor lined up behind Katie. Despite the warning from watching Molly, Katie still yielded several clicks to the hinges of her frame as she absorbed the doctor's furious swings. Back and forth the whip wielding woman alternated between her two victims, delivering ten strokes to one before moving on to the next girl. After the first twenty strokes had been delivered, the doctor helpfully provided a strip of leather for each slave to bite down on - partly to stifle their agonized screams, and partly to keep the frantic girls from biting off their tongues.

After a hundred strokes to each, the doctor coiled up her whip and stowed it away. She left to take a break, leaving behind two bruised and crying slaves, trembling as they struggled to avoid lowering themselves any closer to the menacing needles before them.

---

Beth Saunders had never had an easy life. Homeless since she turned fifteen, she had survived on her own on the mean streets for years until one day Group XS had caught up with her. Now she had spent the last week and a half bound in stifling leather bondage, tormented and abused at the hands of Sheriff Spite. She didn't think things could get any worse - that is, until she met Mistress XS.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" she grunted as she saw Mistress XS re-enter her personal quarters. Beth had had a pair of her mistress's dirty panties shoved into her mouth and taped into place earlier in the day.

The gorgeous blond mistress sauntered over to Beth. She was the picture of beauty, the way her black latex catsuit hugged her curves, the way her long, silky ponytail sashayed back and forth as she walked, the way she exuded confidence from behind her menacing mask. She turned her steely gaze to Beth.

"It's been about two hours," Mistress XS said. "Have you thought of a suitable punishment for your lack of enthusiasm in licking my pussy?"

Beth looked at Mistress XS with her most pitiful expression. She'd spent the previous night trapped in a tiny compartment built into her mistress's bed. Only her head stuck out through a gap in the mattress. Mistress XS had positioned herself on the bed with a leg on either side of Beth's head and ordered her to lick and nuzzle her pussy all night while she slept.

Beth had tried her best, she really had, but long days of abuse and sleepless nights in tight bondage had taken their toll on her, and at some point during the night she had nodded off. A furious Mistress XS awoke the next morning to find her slave sleeping soundly, her own pussy was dry, save for a bit of drool that had seeped out of Beth's snoring mouth. After a dozen rage-filled slaps to the face, Beth was hauled out of the bed.

Unfortunately, Mistress XS had an important appointment this morning, so she quickly bound Beth's arms at the small of her back and set her standing over the wooden pony that she kept in her room at all times. A set of ropes tied around her ankles and pulled out to either side kept Beth's feet spread shoulder width apart. Beth stood hovering over the narrow, dull, triangular peak, watching as Mistress XS carefully selected two attachments to mount on the pony, just below where she stood. The first was a stiff bottle brush. She locked it in position so that the coarse bristles lightly touched Beth's tightly puckered asshole.

The other more worrying attachment was a narrow shaft with a rounded tip slightly larger than an egg. Carved into this rounded top were many holes and ridges, making it resemble more than anything else a cheese grater! This one Mistress XS positioned so that half of the terrifying raspy tip was nestled just inside the entrance to Beth's pussy.

There had been enough slack in her bindings that Beth was able to stand flatfooted for the past few hours, in little danger of falling down onto the nefarious attachments or the cruel ridge of the pony. But that was the point. Mistress XS wanted to give her plenty of time to ponder her fate - waiting, worrying, letting her imagination run away.

"So, what's it to be?" Mistress XS asked as she peeled back the tape from Beth's mouth and extracted her saliva soaked panties from the girl's cheeks. She draped the slobbery panties over Beth's frightened head as the girl answered.

"P-please mistress! I'm sorry! It will never happen again! Don't hurt me! Please!" Beth blubbered.

Mistress XS narrowed her eyes and she walked behind Beth. "Wrong answer!" she snapped. At the same time, she kicked the slave in the back of her knee and hauled on the ropes holding her ankles apart. Beth quickly fell down, her descent only slowed by the small modicum of resistance given by the the scrub brush and the rasp as they buried themselves fully into her sensitive holes. She landed hard on the ridge of the pony with a thump, instantly bruising her tender perineum.

"Aiyeee!" Beth shrieked, the sum of all her fears for the past few hours becoming clear in one instant of agony. She tried to find relief by pulling her ankles closer together, but Mistress XS had tied off the ropes in their new position, locking in her newer, wider stance. Her only option was to rise up onto her toes to lift herself up off of the terrible blunted ridge upon which she sat. Unfortunately this revealed the true nature of her predicament - any movement, up or down, repositioned the attachments buried inside her, scouring her insides as they slid across her flesh.

"Please mistress! It hurts so much! I can't bear it!" Beth pleaded with fresh tears flowing down her eyes. Mistress XS savored the girl's desperation while she rifled through her hamper for another pair of dirty panties. She smirked as she found a particularly musky pair from a few days ago. She strode over to her begging slave and shoved the panties into her mouth, enjoying the look of revulsion as the stained crotch made contact with her tongue, then she taped the girl's mouth closed once again.

"Silly girl," Mistress XS said. "This isn't your punishment. This is merely where I will keep you until you think of a suitable punishment for your offence." Beth's eyes grew wide. She stared at her mistress through the leg holes of the panties draped over her head. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to see what you've come up with."

Beth's pitiful begging increased in intensity. Her calf muscles were already trembling under the strain of holding her body up off of the pony. Before she turned to go, Mistress XS gave Beth a devilish smile and kicked her again in the back of the knee. Beth screamed in pain as she crashed down again onto the pony. Mistress XS watched as the poor girl scrambled to lift herself free once again, then she left the room, smiling gaily to herself.

---

Dr. Zorhof returned from her break to find Molly and Katie just how she had left them, though the bruises on their backs had darkened to black and blue in her absence. Neither girl had yielded any further distance to the menacing syringes located before them. And yet, she noted with silent satisfaction, the girls were showing the strain of holding their slightly bent positions. They not only had to hold up the weight of their upper body, but also that of the heavy frame that enclosed their neck and wrists. The muscles in their lower backs struggled valiantly and without relief to keep each girl upright and away from her doom.

Dr. Zorhof could have been content to wait the duo out, seeing which one would falter first. But where would the fun in that be? So she decided to help move things along again. She found a nice, long, knobby dildo and lubed it up with a generous glob of Icy Hot gel. Then, after deciding it was only fair that Katie go first this time since Molly got the first whipping, she aligned herself behind the slightly bent over girl.

Katie, whose anxiety had increased at the return of Dr. Zorhof, couldn't see what the wicked woman was up to as she fumbled around behind her. It wasn't until she felt the evil doctor's strap-on slam up into her pussy that she realized what she was in for. With one hard thrust Dr. Zorhof's hard cock slid all the way in, stopping only as it banged hard into her cervix. Katie grunted into the strip of leather that she held clenched between her teeth, but the surprise fucking still got the better of her and she felt the rack fall two more clicks towards her terrible fate.

Dr. Zorhof took long strokes, slowly pulling out, then quickly slamming back in. The frame rattled with every thrust. Katie tried to close her legs, but the restraints about her thighs held them open. It wasn't long until the effects of the gel could be felt. At first her pussy felt like it was being pricked all up and down by pins and needles. The sensation soon turned to a blazing heat. Katie voiced her distress while the doctor continued pounding away at her insides. In. Out. In. Out.

After five minutes of hard, heavy humping the doctor finally slid her dildo free from Katie's aching cunt. For her efforts the girl had sunk closer to her ultimate goal, now bent at about a forty five degree angle.

The doctor slathered her dildo with more gel and walked around behind Molly. Molly, knowing what was coming and thinking she'd get better treatment if she cooperated, dutifully arched her back and thrust her pussy out towards her rapist. But Dr. Zorhof had a surprise for her. Instead of lining up her dildo with Molly's little pink pussy, she drove her hard cock into the girl's tight and unsuspecting asshole. The girl screamed in pain and surprise, surrending several more clicks to her frame.

The initial thrust of the cock into Molly's tight ass failed to penetrate all the way. Dr. Zorhof, determined to correct this, reversed course and then slammed her way in again, making it a little deeper. Over and over the doctor repeated this until, finally, she had buried the full length of her big, knobby strap-on into Molly's ass. Even then, she continued to drive her cock in and out, watching as Katie's sore red asshole swallowed each knob and ridge of the dildo. Molly grunted with each thrust, her hands opening and closing into tight fists, her face flushing redder and redder.

The pain of her anal assault was soon compounded by the nefarious gel with had been slathered all the way up her butt, first tingling, then burning. After five or so minutes of hard fucking, the doctor slipped her cock free from Molly's aching asshole, leaving the girl panting and sweating. She stowed away her cock and went in search of the next toy she could bring to bear against the two girls.

---

Rachel had always been proud of her tits. She loved the way they filled out her favorite dresses so nicely. She loved the way their large size contrasted nicely with her narrow waist. She loved how they were capped by a pair of big, dark nipples that showed clearly through her top when she got excited. She loved the way they swung gently back and forth when she was fucked from behind. She loved the way men's eyes lit up when she took them out.

Unfortunately, as Rachel learned, the same things that she loved about her breasts were the same things that Group XS loved about her breasts. She was kidnapped while hiking alone in the backwoods and soon became a favorite of the tit torture enthusiasts on the farm. They loved the way her tits bulged against the tight, constricting outfits they made her wear. They loved the way she screamed when her big, dark nipples were crushed by a cruel set of clamps. They loved the way her tits swung violently back and forth as they raped her from behind. They loved the look of fear in her eyes when they released her tits from their tight bondage and brought out their whips.

Now as Rachel stood in Mistress XS's private quarters she looked down at her big, beautiful tits, arrayed on the plank in front of her like two slabs of meat on the butcher's block, and she couldn't help but worry.

Nearly an hour ago Mistress Helga had dragged her out of the tiny cell where she'd spent the past few days recovering from her latest torture session, and brought her here. She was sat down on a low stool and had her chest pressed up against the edge of a high square table with her tits resting on the tabletop. A leather strap attached to the near edge was drawn around her back and cinched tight, crushing her ribs against the side of the table. Her arms were bound behind her back with each wrist tied to the opposite elbow.

This, alone, was enough to hold Rachel up against the table, which was securely bolted to the floor. But to make matters worse, two pairs of long bolts were threaded into the top of the table, one on either side of each tit. Then an inch wide, flat metal slat was fitted onto each pair of bolts so that it rested atop her meaty breasts. Next each bolt received a wing nut. Rachel watched apprehensively as the wing nuts were tightened down in pairs pushing on the slats and slowly compressing her tits more and more with each twist.

Her distress grew and grew as her tits were mashed inside the crude titpresses further and further. Her ballgagged mouth poured drool. Her big, brown eyes glazed over with tears. Her long black ponytail fluttered back and forth. She watched as her beloved breasts flattened against the table near where they met her chest. Her marvelous mammaries shaded from pink to red to light purple. Finally, Mistress Helga was satisfied.

Rachel was left to ponder what fate beheld her beloved breasts. But before she left, Mistress Helga bent down and yanked the stool out from beneath poor Rachel. Unfortunately for Rachel, the height of the table was too high for her to kneel on the floor. But additionally, it was too low for her to stand upright. Thus she was left in an awkward half-squat. Her quads burned from the strain as time wore on. She tried to stick out her ass, but the tight hold on her tits ensured that she could only bend so far before wrenching her breasts up and away from her chest.

Beth, meanwhile, had watched the installation of Rachel with total disinterest. It's not that she didn't care about the treatment of her fellow slave, but rather that she had more than enough troubles to keep her occupied at the moment.

Ever since Mistress XS had left she'd been slowly bobbing up and down as she 'rode' the pony between her legs. Her entire pelvis ached, not just her tortured pussy and ass. She tried her best to hold each position, up or down, for as long as possible - each transfer served only to grind the horrible implements inserted into her holes against her abused flesh. Worryingly, the rasp in her pussy seemed to glide more easily as time went on, suggesting perhaps that it was lubricated by the blood of her raw and tortured cunt.

When her legs were exhausted to the point that she could no longer hold herself up, she sank slowly down onto the horse. But the pressure of the narrow ridge on her crotch was the worst pain of all, and it only increased with time. The unbearable agony and her growing exhaustion meant that she was able to spend less and less time in each position. And so, as time went on she found herself riding the pony faster, not slower. Up and down. Up and down. Unceasing agony.

Upon the return of Mistress XS, Beth's attention was immediately riveted to her torturer and, unhappily, the only person who could relieve her of her awful predicament. She squealed and grunted, hoping to draw the wicked woman over.

"Ah, Beth," Mistress XS cooed when she finally chose to come near. "Have you devised a suitable punishment for yourself yet?"

She reached up and peeled back the tape over Beth's mouth. Then she withdrew the panties packed in behind her teeth and draped them over Beth's head, atop the previous pair already there. Beth breathed a sigh of relief. She was desperate to be freed of this awful pony. But, truthfully, she hadn't spent any time thinking about an alternate punishment. She'd been too concerned with her current misery. Her mind raced as she thought of what to say.

"Please mistress! I'm ready to be punished!" she gushed.

"And what do you have in mind?"

Beth's eyes quickly darted around the room, moving from one horrible and painful apparatus to the next. Her gaze paused at a whipping post, positioned next to a rack populated with all manner of whips, canes, and paddles.

"Whip my back!" Beth blurted out.

"And?"

"And, um, cane my thighs?"

"And?" Mistress XS pressed.

And? And? Beth grew more worried. What more was this woman going to do to her? "And, um..." She was drawing a blank. She didn't dare suggest anything more extreme. She was already in so much pain as it was.

Her mistress's glare darkened. "Clearly you are not taking this seriously," she snapped. "That's hardly a fitting punishment for such a naughty girl."

She marched over and snatched up the panties Rachel had been wearing for the past few days during her stay in a dark, cramped pit. She crumpled up the filthy underwear and crammed it into Beth's mouth, then reapplied the tape. Beth tried to twist away. She was desperate to get down off the pony. She pleaded and cried with Mistress XS.

"I guess you'll need some more time to decide," Mistress XS declared. "Though I can at least start with your suggestion."

She marched over to the rack that Beth had been looking at and grabbed a whip and a cane. At first Beth had thought she was merely setting them aside for later, but she realized the awful truth when Mistress XS uncoiled the whip and stepped around behind the pony.

Crack! Beth's sobs turned to screams as the whip landed across her exposed back. The ferocity of the blow knocked her off her toes and she slammed hard into the ridge of the pony. Before she could even think of rising back up she caught a second stroke across her back. Her eyes bulged out of her head as her body reeled in pain. Mistress XS didn't stop. By the time the last blow landed Beth was slumped forward, crying uncontrollably. She then tossed aside the whip and picked up the cane.

"Now where was it that I was supposed to cane you? Your thighs?" She teased Beth's trembling legs with the tip of the cane.

"Come on," she ordered. "Get up on your toes." Beth struggled to comply, but eventually managed to lift herself up, groaning as she did so.

"I'll make a deal with you," Mistress XS said. "I'm going to give you ten strokes - five on each thigh. If you can keep yourself up the entire time, then I'll give you a break from the pony. Sound good?"

The first strike landed right as Beth nodded her assent. She shrieked as the stiff cane crashed into her exhausted thigh muscles. She wavered, but somehow managed to stay up. The prospect of relief from the dreadful pony was simply too great of a motivator.

She gritted her teeth and stared straight ahead as her mistress snapped the cane down four more times. Her nostrils flared. Her breathing grew ragged. But she stayed up.

Mistress XS walked around to the other side. Even if Mistress XS hadn't been caning her, Beth probably would have slumped down onto the pony by now, her legs were that tired. But given the prospect of relief from this dreadful position, she dug deep and found the will to keep standing. Her entire body was trembling as the next cane stroke landed. She absorbed it with a scream.

Mistress XS was silently impressed. She'd have thought Beth would have collapsed down by now. No matter. She raised the cane high and snapped it down, right atop the previous stroke. Beth's head looked to the sky in agony, her dreadful scream muffled by the gag taped into her mouth.

Crack! The third stroke landed in the same spot again. Crack! So did the fourth. Beth was driven mad with pain, but she clinged desperately to the hope of relief from the awful pony.

Mistress XS brought the cane overhead one final time. Crack! She swung with all her might. The cane broke over Beth's thigh, and, like a tree finally giving away under the swings of the lumberjack's ax, she collapsed down onto the pony.

Mistress XS smiled in triumph as Beth sobbed atop the hard ridge of the pony. "Have it your way," she said. "You can stay up there a while longer yet. Eventually you may think of a punishment that I consider worth taking you down for. In the meantime, I've had Rachel brought up here to provide a little... inspiration."

Rachel, who had been trying her very best to avoid looking over at Beth while Mistress XS tormented the poor girl, perked up at the mention of her name. She trembled in fear as the wicked woman approached, grabbed a stool, and sat down in front of her.

"Such lovely tits," she remarked. "The other members told me how much fun they had playing with them, and I just had to see for myself. Mmmm... just thinking about it is getting me so wet."

She reached a hand between her legs and stroked her pussy through her latex panties. "In fact, why don't I get someone to pay a little attention to me, while I pay some attention to you."

She walked over to the foot of her bed and flipped up the latch on a trunk located there. The lid sprang up as the woman within uncompressed from the tight confines.

"Anastasia?" Mistress XS called into the box in Russian. "I'd like you to come lick my pussy while I play with Rachel. Understood?"

The figure within grunted assent and unfolded herself from the box while Mistress XS sat back down on the stool.

"This is Anastasia," Mistress XS explained to Rachel. "She's an old friend from back in Russia. In fact, it's because of her that I'm here in America. Isn't that lucky for you? She thought she had gotten away from me. Boy was she surprised when one day she was kidnapped from her bed and woke up here. Now whenever I'm homesick I can bring her out and play with her. How wonderful!"

Rachel watched as the woman in the trunk clambered out. She was bound head to toe in a tight leather bodysuit, only her haunted green eyes showed through the holes in her crushing leather hood. Her arms were trapped behind her back in an armbinder, and her legs were held together by straps around her knees and ankles. That's why she had to awkwardly scramble over the side of the trunk. She flattened herself out, facedown on the floor, groaning as her weight pressed on her swollen belly and her large tits that had been packed into a spiked bra beneath her bodysuit. She slowly crawled her way towards Mistress XS like a worm, scrunching her knees towards her body, then sliding her aching tits across the floor as she extended herself.

When she arrived at the stool, Mistress XS leaned down and dragged Anastasia to her knees by the ring embedded in the top of her hood. Then she unlatched the gag from her hood and pulled out the long, slimy dildo that had been buried in the woman's throat, tossing it aside. Mistress XS stood up briefly and shimmied out of her panties. Then she slid to the edge of the stool and spread her legs. Without hesitation, Anastasia dove face first into the woman's pussy, licking and lapping with enthusiasm.

"Ah, that's nice," Mistress XS remarked. "Anastasia and I have been together for a while now. We make a lovely couple. She knows just what I like, and I know just what she fears. She has helped me to perfect some of things I'll show you today, Rachel. Shall we get started?"

Rachel looked into the woman's cold, gray eyes and saw no compassion, no mercy. "Pleaf, no," she begged around her ball gag.

Mistress XS ignored her and prodded at Rachel's bulging, swollen tits with her finger. She turned to the tray of equipment she had beside her and grabbed some small metal clamps. With callous indifference to Rachel's cries of pain, she snapped the clamps on all around Rachel's tits, six on each breast - two on the inner sides, two on the outer sides, and then one on either side of each nipple. With her body firmly pressed up against the table, Rachel's anguished movements didn't translate into her tits. She stamped her feet and clenched her fists as Mistress XS worked.

Next, Mistress XS tied thin cords to each of the clamps. The two pairs of clamps on the insides of each breast were tied to their matching partner on the opposite tit, so that they were pulled together until they were about an inch apart. The cords attached to the outside clamps and the ones near her nipples were draped over their respective sides of the table. Underneath the table were six small knobs. Mistress XS threaded one cord through each. Then she slowly began to turn them, one at a time, switching from one to the next.

Rachel watched with horror as the cords drew tighter with each twist of the knobs, drawing her tits in three different directions. First her breasts were pulled out away from her chest by the clamps on either side of her nipples, her distress grew exponentially with every little tug. Then, without releasing any tension from the front, the sides were tightened. Rachel screamed as her tits were stretched flat. The inner clamps grew taut as the outer clamps pulled farther and farther. Rachel thought for sure that the tight, little clamps would tear off chunks of her tits as her skin stretched tighter and tighter. She was hyperventilating by the time Mistress XS decided that she couldn't make her breasts any more stretched or flatter.

"Don't be such a baby," she teased. "If you'd like, I can nail your tits in place now that I've got them stretched out how I like."

Rachel was too agonized to respond, so Mistress XS moved on. She found a short, stiff, thin metal length of wire and used it to poke at Rachel's stretched flesh. Her skin had pulled as tight as a drum and each little jab sent shudders through the suffering girl. Then Mistress XS held the stiff wire parallel to her breast and bent back the tip as far as she could. When she let go the wire snapped back straight, crashing into Rachel's trapped breast. Rachel's legs collapsed out from underneath her and she frantically screamed as the strike nearly split open the tightly stretched skin. She dangled by her securely held chest for just a second before she managed to get her feet back under her. Mistress XS smiled and explored the new mark with her fingers. Then she repeated the process, holding the wire at a different angle, so that there was a big 'X' shaped mark over her tit. By the time Rachel's other breast received the same treatment, the girl was growing hoarse.

"My goodness! Your screams are so beautiful," Mistress XS purred. "I can see why the other members like you so much!" She surveyed her array of torture implements. "What should we do next, the acid or the soldering iron?"

Rachel looked back at her with pure misery.

"I know!" Mistress XS chirped. "You've got two tits. Let's do one on each, and then you can tell me which one you like better!"

She plugged in her soldering iron and unstoppered her bottle of acid. Mistress XS dipped her brush into the sticky, clear substance and raised it to the girl's aching flesh. Rachel closed her eyes and turned her head away.

Smack! Rachel's head spun as Mistress XS's hand slapped hard into her cheek.

"You'd better keep your eyes open and looking down here the entire time, or you'll be eating your tits for breakfast!" Mistress XS snapped.

Rachel's screams found new strength as Mistress XS began applying the acid to strategic spots all over her tits. The poor girl had a front row seat to the destruction of her beloved breasts.

---

Dr. Zorhof was growing impatient waiting for one of her two slaves to subject herself to the terrible new serum she had prepared for them. She angrily cast aside her cattle prod. Both Katie and Molly were red-faced and sobbing. Snot dribbled out of their noses and onto the menacing bowls awaiting their dangling breasts below. Their bodies were speckled with little burn marks - a painful reminder of where the full-powered sparks from the prod leapt into their tortured bodies. Yet for all the doctor's effort she had yet to find a 'volunteer'. Each girl was tantalizingly close to pressing her tits into the sharp needles. Their exhausted bodies trembled in defiance.

"Fine. We do this a different way," Dr. Zorhof declared in her clipped German accent.

She rummaged through a cabinet and came away with a tangle of chains and clamps. She quickly snapped a clamp onto each of the girls' nipples. Katie and Molly groaned as the strong jaws of the clamps bit hard into their sensitive flesh. Then the doctor attached a thin chain to each clamp and threaded it into a hole in the bottom of each needled bowl beneath their chests. She connected each pair of chains together beneath the bowls, then took one more thin chain, passed through a ring on the floor between the two girls, and then linked each end to chains attached to the clamps.

Katie and Molly were now attached by the nipples through the ring in the floor. There was little slack in the chains. The coming challenge was obvious to the two suffering slaves. Each looked the other in the eye, seeking mercy.

"Ok," Dr. Zorhof said. "Since no one wants to volunteer herself, let's see if you want to volunteer the other."

She flipped the latches on the frames that held the girls bent over. The ratchets no longer prevented either one from pulling her body upright. Each girl immediately tried to do just that. They groaned as the chains between their nipples pulled taut. Their tits stretched into cones as they pulled, hoping to yank the other down onto the needles in a sick game of tug-of-war. In unison they howled in pain and determination. The punishment for the loser was more than enough incentive to bear the agony of yanking on the cruel clamps.

Dr. Zorhof smiled and watched carefully, greatly enjoying the spectacle of the competition. For a good minute or so the duo pulled with all their might, sawing the chain back and forth through the ring on the floor as they gained and lost position. But soon the trend became clear. Molly was sinking lower and lower over time. Her eyes grew wide with fear when her stretched tits first brushed the tips of the needles.

"Katie! No! Please!" she begged, letting the leather strip fall from between her clenched teeth. "Mercy! Arghh! Please! No!"

Katie shut her eyes and tried to block out Molly's desperate pleas. One of them had to suffer, and she certainly didn't want it to be her.

"Aiyeee!" Molly screamed as the syringes sank into her tits. But she hadn't yet fallen far enough to depress the plungers and release the toxin. A surge of adrenaline allowed her to lift herself up again, but her recovery was fleeting. Katie was simply too strong. Molly collapsed down onto the cruel apparatus completely, the needles sinking fully into her fleshy tits and delivering their noxious payload.

"Ahhhhh!" the redheaded slave shrilly screamed. "It burns! It burns! Make it stop!"

Katie could feel all the fight evaporate from Molly as the girl descended into agony. Dr. Zorhof quickly leaned in and locked Molly's frame into place, trapping her tits against the needle studded bowls. Under the soundtrack of Molly's frantic screams, Dr. Zorhof unclipped the four nipple clamps and freed Katie from her frame.

"Go strap yourself into that chair over there," she ordered Katie. "I want to examine Molly."

Katie trudged over to the seatless metal chair that the doctor had indicated and started pulling the straps around her legs, holding them spread wide apart. Meanwhile, the doctor poked and prodded Molly's breasts then collected other data - heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature. By the time she had finished, Katie was just finishing up locking her wrists into the handcuffs behind the back of the chair.

"I'll need to leave Molly for a few hours to see how the swelling progresses," the doctor explained as she tightened down a few of Katie's straps to her satisfaction. "I must say that I'm a little disappointed that you weren't interested in taking part in my experiment. You have such lovely, perky breasts."

Katie bit her lip and closed her eyes as the doctor tweaked her heavily bruised nipples.

"But in a way, I'm glad," Dr. Zorhof added. "You have demonstrated that between the two of you, you can tolerate the most pain. To that end, I have a different experiment for you to try."

Katie's eyes shot open and she began to cry when she saw the wicked smile on the evil doctor's face. "Please, no," she sobbed. "I hurt so much already."

"Nonsense," the doctor replied. "There's hardly a mark on you. Now tell me, you're such a pretty young woman, have you ever thought of having a baby?"

Katie's eyes dropped to her pussy, so nicely exposed and vulnerable in this bottomless chair. "No. No. No. No," she repeated until Dr. Zorhof filled her mouth with a nice, unpleasant pear gag. The doctor pulled up a stool and sat in front of her. Katie gasped in surprise when Dr. Zorhof stepped on a pedal and the chair tipped back, bringing her pussy to a comfortable position for the doctor to work on.

Katie began imagining the worst as the doctor snapped on a latex glove and began working one, then two, then three fingers into her tight cunt. Dr. Zorhof kept at it and soon had managed to insert a whole fist inside her. Katie's moans did nothing to deter her as she loosened Katie up for what was to come.

First she produced an enormous syringe which she guided carefully into Katie's cervix, injecting it with something to relax it open. Then it was back to fisting. Katie's distress nearly equaled Molly's as the doctor's arm disappeared nearly up to her elbow inside into her aching pussy. After several painful failed attempts the doctor finally managed to work an awkwardly shaped sack up into her womb. This was followed by a second smaller sack shoved into her vagina. Each sack was connected to a long hose that dropped down to a machine on the floor.

By the time Dr. Zorhof finished strapping everything in place it merely looked like Katie was wearing an unusual set of rubber panties. But, of course, over time that would change. The doctor flipped a switch on the machine and Katie could feel the outer sack inflate. It didn't stop until her vagina was completely full. Then the inner sack slowly expanded. The chugga-chugga of the compressor echoed throughout the room and Katie's terror increased.

"We have to inflate it very slowly," the doctor explained. "Otherwise something might tear. In a few hours you'll be as big as a house. Mmmm, I can just imagine how uncomfortable you'll be!"

The doctor's hand slowly stroked her own pussy as Katie could feel the ever-growing pressure inside her. Her abdomen was flat now, but it wouldn't be for long.

"Anyway, I'll be back in a little while to check on you."

---

Beth was completely exhausted. She'd spent the entire day perched on the wooden pony. She no longer had the strength to lift herself up from the ridge. The best she could manage was to lift part of the weight off her cunt with her tired legs. She slumped forward, held upright by the dildos in her pussy and ass that had scoured her raw.

About half an hour ago Mistress XS had finally finished working over Rachel's tits. The girl remained with her abused chest strapped to the table, softly sobbing to herself. Her bruised, bloodied, and burned breasts were like two cuts of raw meat sitting atop the table. The tortured girl wondered if they would ever look the same again.

Anastasia, who had diligently attended to Mistress XS's pussy the entire time, bringing her to orgasm twice, was now kneeling beneath Rachel, acting as a stool for the beleaguered beauty. She quietly bore her burden, thankful that her mistress had found someone else to play with this day.

Mistress XS had left a little while ago to 'freshen up'. She returned now, smiling as she approached poor Beth. She yanked the tape off of her mouth, yanked the panties out of her mouth, and draped them over her head, adding to the growing collection atop the suffering girl.

"Please Mistress!" Beth hoarsely begged, anticipating what Mistress XS would demand of her and desperate to be taken down from the pony. "Torture my tits. Make me scream like Rachel. Make me suffer! Please!"

Mistress XS smiled. "I was just going to ask if you were hungry for dinner," she mused. "But maybe after you've had something to eat we could play."

Beth broke down in tears as Mistress XS turned her back and went to gather some bowls. "Fortunately for you," Mistress XS said, "is that while you're staying with me you don't have to eat what the other slaves at Group XS do. Anastasia here has graciously volunteered to be the personal chef to anyone who comes to visit."

Mistress XS took out a can of dogfood and dumped it into a large bowl. She then sprinkled it with several scraps of food: stale bread, wilted vegetables, gristly cuts of meat. Beth, revolted though she was, could hear her stomach rumbling at the prospect of food. She watched as Mistress XS took a few scoops of toilet water and splashed them over the top.

"Anastasia?" Mistress XS called to the leather bound woman. "Would you show the girls what you've prepared for dinner?"

She set an empty bowl on the floor and watched as Anastasia wormed her way over to it. Rachel stirred from her tortured catatonic trance as her support went away and transferred the burden to her tits and tired legs. Mistress XS undid the leather straps holding Anastasia's legs together and set the slave squatting over the empty bowl. Then she reached beneath the woman and yanked the butt plug out of her ass in one clean tug.

Anastasia's relief was palpable as the contents of her ass exploded into the bowl beneath her. A noxious slurry poured out from her overstuffed ass. The woman grunted and strained as she fought to squeeze every last bit out of her butt. Beth fought back the dry heaves that jostled her aching cunt on the pony. She glanced longingly at the bowl that Mistress XS had recently prepared.

"Oh, that?" Mistress XS said coyly. "That's breakfast. Or it will be once Anastasia has prepared it. Do you like spicy food? I hope so!" She chuckled as she chopped up several hot peppers and added them to the bowl she was arranging.

"Anastasia, would you please feed Beth? I bet she's famished!" she exclaimed. "And Beth, I'll remind you that this is the only food you're getting today, so you'd better eat up. If it turns out you don't like Anastasia's cooking then she'll have to be punished."

Beth watched in horror as Anastasia leaned over the disgusting bowl and slurped a large quantity of the slurry into her mouth. Then she rose to her feet and moved towards the wooden pony. Beth cringed as Anastasia pressed her mouth to hers in an intimate and disgusting kiss. She ruefully accepted the 'food', trying hard not to think about what it was or where it came from as she swallowed the disgusting slop that Anastasia transferred to her mouth.

Anastasia went back to the bowl again and again until Beth was actually starting to get full. She tried with all her might to keep down what she'd been fed. Several times she could feel her bile rising, but she swallowed it back down. Finally Mistress XS declared that she'd had enough. Anastasia returned dutifully to her side while Mistress XS set the new bowl down on the floor. This time it was Mistress XS who pulled down her panties took a shit and a piss right on top of the pile of food.

"Ok Anastasia, you get that ready while I feed Rachel," she said.

Anastasia shuffled over to the bowl and began taking chunks of food into her mouth. The choicest bits she chewed up and swallowed, the rest she mashed up with her teeth and spit back into the bowl until even the tiniest crumb was turned to mush. Meanwhile Mistress XS found a spoon and dotingly fed poor Rachel her dinner from what remained in the other bowl. It wasn't clear whether Rachel was coherent enough to have seen where her meal came from, but she certainly scrunched up her face in disgust as she was force-fed the sickening slurry.

Once Mistress XS had emptied the dinner bowl into Rachel's reluctant mouth she returned to Beth. "Now then, I believe you had asked something of me before dinner?"

"Yes, mistress!" Beth replied desperately. "Please torture my tits! I've been so bad! Make me suffer! Make me scream!"

"Well I don't think I can say no to such an enthusiastic request," Mistress XS said as she leaned down and untied the ropes around Beth's chafed ankles.

Beth's heart soared. She would have done anything in that moment to be released from atop the wooden pony. Her cramped, unfettered legs lifted her weakened body slightly up off of the hard ridge.

"I wonder," Mistress XS said as she leaned down and enclosed Beth's ankle into a metal shackle that was connected to another shackle via a two foot long chain. "I wonder whether a nice tit torture is the worst punishment you can think of. You really did disappoint me this morning. It's only fitting that you receive the most severe punishment."

"Yes, mistress! It is. It is," Beth lied. In truth, the worst thing that could happen to her would be spending another minute astride the horrible wooden pony.

"Well that just tells me one thing," Mistress XS said matter-of-factly. "You haven't been riding the pony for long enough!"

"Noooooo!" Beth shrieked as Mistress XS suddenly yanked her shackled ankle up and back, sending Beth crashing down hard onto the ridge. She quickly snatched the screaming girl's other ankle and snapped the other shackle around it after draping the chain over the top of the pony.

Now Beth was hopelessly trapped atop the hard ridge. At best, she could press down on her legs, digging the thin, metal cuffs into her ankles and lifting some of her weight off of her aching cunt.

"But I know you were looking forward to a bit of tit torture, so I'm happy to oblige!"

She took a long length of thick rope and began wrapping Beth's tits in a tight tie that went around the base of each breast and around her back. Then she took the end of the rope where it jutted out of a knot between her rapidly purpling breasts and threw it through a ring above the pony. Beth grunted as Mistress XS hauled on the rope, lifting her up by her tits off of the ridge. Then she brought the rope over to Beth's mouth and ordered her to bite down on it. Beth sagged a little as her head tipped back and the rope tugged at her teeth, but as long as she held on she would have some modicum of relief from the terrible pony.

Her neck quickly cramped. Her jaw ached as it bore the weight of her body. Her tits pulsed with pain from the tight ropes that yanked them skyward. But Beth was determined to hold on. The alternative was more horrendous pain between her legs.

Mistress XS watched for a few minutes as Beth struggled to hang on. Then before leaving she took the chewed up contents of Anastasia's bowl of slop and, using a large plunger, squirted them up Anastasia's ass. She stoppered up the overfilled woman with a butt plug and then packed her away back in her trunk. She'd be back in the morning to serve breakfast.

---

Catherine threw down her binoculars in frustration. A whole day of surveillance had yielded nothing. So far as anyone on the outside was concerned, this location was just a standard, if perhaps a bit paranoid about security, farmhouse. She wasn't going to get any evidence like this. She needed some way to see inside.

She packed up her things and resolved to come back next weekend to figure something out. She had to. Tania was counting on her. The girls they'd kidnapped were counting on her.

---

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Katie hollered into her gag. The compressor on the pump had just shut off again after inflating the 'baby' embedded in her womb some more. Over the past few hours she'd watched with increasing pain and fear as her abdomen swelled under the onslaught of the device slowly expanding inside her. She was wracked by cramps as the ever-larger sack pushed her internal organs aside and stretched her poor womb, which was never intended to grow as quickly as it was now.

She looked down at her tummy, swollen now to the size of five months pregnant. Her skin had stretched tighter and tighter. Her belly button had begun to poke outwards from the pressure within. She sweated profusely, in constant agony.

Dr. Zorhof returned. She was positively beaming as she gleefully regarded her two miserable guinea pigs. By now the toxin injected into Molly's tits had caused them to swell up to truly epic proportions. Her bulging flesh spilled up over the tops of the metal bowls like an overfilled blob of dough in a muffin tin.

Dr. Zorhof released the lock on Molly's frame and stood the girl upright. She groaned as the syringes pull free and her heavy breasts sagged on her narrow chest. The doctor kneaded Molly's massive mammaries, grinning at the slave's clear distress.

"Oh, I bet these are quite sensitive right now," she remarked. The evil woman retrieved a riding crop from nearby. Snap! Snap! Snap!

She peppered Molly's aching tits with hard slaps from the crop. Each blow rang out like a gunshot in the dark, dreary dungeon.

"Ayiiieee! No! Please!" Molly begged as she failed to squirm away from the rain of blows. Zorhof didn't stop until the sound of the compressor starting up drew her attention to Katie.

Katie emitted a long tortured groan as the sack inside her womb swelled by another millimeter or so. Dr. Zorhof approached and rubbed her hands all up and down Katie's distended belly. She pressed on the round lump and Katie's groans went up in volume.

"You're positively glowing! I must say pregnancy really suits you! You must be so uncomfortable."

Katie glanced up at her cruel mistress with a look of pure misery. Snap! Snap! Snap! Dr. Zorhof unleashed her riding crop on Katie's swollen tummy while she cackled with glee. Katie screamed and screamed under the onslaught. She felt like her tight skin would split open with each attack.

When Zorhof tired of battering Katie's belly, she returned her attention to Molly's tits. Back and forth she went until the duo were bruised, battered, and bawling uncontrollably - just the way Dr. Zorhof liked them.

---

The night was getting late. Beth suffered up on the pony as silently as she could. Just a few feet away from her Mistress XS slept soundly in her bed. Before she had settled in for the night, Mistress XS had taken Rachel down and locked her away beneath her mattress with her head sticking up from the middle - the same position Beth had held the previous night. With a stern warning using Beth as an example, Rachel was ordered to attend to Mistress XS's pussy throughout the night. From the bobbing motion beneath the sheets that Beth could see, Rachel had heeded the threat well.

Beth had been warned to keep quiet while her mistress slept. As miserable as she was, she was sure that Mistress XS could always make things worse, so she did her very best to stifle the moans and groans of her terrible suffering.

She had found that the tit suspension did provide some respite from the torture of the wooden pony, but her aching neck, her clenched jaw, and her stretched tits could only hold out for so long. The first time she had let go she landed hard back on the pony, reigniting all the aches and pains of the day, as well as adding a few more.

After the first time she let go she thought she was hopelessly trapped down on the ridge once more. But in her desperate pursuit of relief, she found that if she craned her neck up high and levered herself up via her shackled ankles then she could bite down high enough up on the rope that she could lift most of her weight for a time. But even then, her muscles soon tired and she was inevitably forced to lower herself again, leaving her quietly sobbing in her seemingly endless torture. Once again riding faster and faster as she could hold herself in each position for less and less time.

---

It wasn't until late the next morning that Dr. Zorhof came back to check in on her test subjects. Overnight the swelling had gone down in Molly's tits, leaving her breasts looking severely bruised and deflated. Somehow the girl had managed to get some sleep despite standing in the frame hanging by her neck and wrists.

There was no sleep for Katie, however. Despite her relatively more comfortable position seated in a chair, the intense pain of her artificial pregnancy kept her in constant agony. By now she was at full term, and then some. Her bloated belly filled out almost to her knees. Her skin stretched so much that it was practically translucent. She sat with her chin on her chest, eyes lolling back and forth, emitting a constant loan pitch moan.

Dr. Zorhof strolled into the room refreshed and ready for another day of sadistic torture. She immediately sat down in front of Katie and stroked her tummy. In this state even the slightest touch was agonizing so, of course, Dr. Zorhof dug out her riding crop and soon had Katie screaming herself hoarse.

"It looks like the baby is finally ready," the doctor observed. "Shall we prepare for the delivery?"

Katie could only sob in reply.

---

Beth was beyond agonized. Every part of her ached, from her stiff neck to her chafed ankles to her bound breasts and, worst of all, her pelvis. She was sure she must have sustained permanent damage by now. Over an entire day of bobbing up and down on the dreadful pony had left her completely exhausted, thoroughly traumatized, and unimaginably sore.

A little while ago Mistress XS had offered her the 'meal' that Anastasia had 'prepared' over the course of the night. However Beth, in her agonized state, was simply unable to stomach anything, especially the spicy slop that Anastasia desperately tried to transfer into her mouth. The meal merely dribbled down her chin and onto her tied and bulging breasts.

Unfortunately Mistress XS took Beth's inability to eat as an indictment of the quality of Anastasia's work. Thus, she decided that Anastasia must be punished. The terrified Russian was temporarily spared the responsibility of storing the next meal in her ass. Instead she was bent over a whipping horse with her wrists and ankles shackled to the floor on either side.

Beth watched Anastasia's hips wriggle uncertainly back and forth while Mistress XS prepared out of sight. Beth recognized the tight panties that Anastasia wore. They were a pair of Group XS's favored punishment panties, lined with spikes in all the most sensitive places, but with a split crotch to provide easy access to the wearer's pussy and ass.

Anastasia grew more and more fearful as she waited. Perhaps she knew what was coming. Her soft, anxious mews were periodically interrupted by retches from the choke gag that had been buckled into her mouth.

Finally Mistress XS stepped out in front of Anastasia and Beth. Both girls' eyes immediately locked onto the strap-on perched upon the sadistic woman's hips. It was Mistress XS's infamous Punisher dildo. Beth had only heard about it, but never seen it. The traumatized slave who had told her about it described it as the worst pain she'd ever felt - it was like being fucked by a grappling hook. Now, seeing it in person, she could see why.

The Punisher was about ten inches long, shaped like five balls fixed end to end with each ball bigger than the last as it went from the tip to the base. The entire length of the dildo was covered in short, prickly horsehair. At the top were three short, gleaming, metal spikes sticking straight out. At the base of the strap-on, where it was mounted to Mistress XS's hips, there were more spikes - dozens of shiny metal bits, just waiting to stab into her victims labia when she finally managed to ram the entire length of the cock into her pussy.

Anastasia's fear increased dramatically as Mistress XS lined up behind her. She tried to wiggle her hips away, but even she must have known that her efforts were futile. Nonetheless, she felt like she had to do something as her heart raced and her adrenaline surged.

Beth watched helplessly as Mistress XS grabbed Anastasia's hips and parted her labia with the spiked tip. She couldn't help but feel guilty for Anastasia's situation.

"It's a good thing you exposed Anastasia's substandard work," Mistress XS said, reading her thoughts. "I had a feeling that my dear Russian friend was getting complacent in her duties. Hopefully this will serve as a reminder that she will never forget. I've even lubed up the Punisher with a fresh batch of chili oil!"

She turned back to her victim and slowly pressed the first ball of her dildo into the terrified woman. The room filled with Anastasia's agonized screams. Her vagina swallowed the first inch, then the next, and the next. She was helpless to resist the persistent pressure of Mistress XS. The poor woman responded as if a red hot poker had been rammed up her cunt which, Beth thought as Mistress XS reversed course, might have been preferred to the dreadful torture she was now receiving.

Now Mistress XS quickened her pace. In. Out. In. Out. Each time pressing a little deeper with her dildo. One ball deep, then two, then three - each one bigger than the last, stretching and scraping Anastasia's aching cunt. When the fourth ball popped past her vulva Anastasia lost control of her bladder. A torrent of piss came gushing out from between her legs. Mistress XS stepped back just in time to avoid splashing her boots, then determinedly resumed fucking.

Anastasia screamed like the damned. It sounded like she was being murdered. Her anguished howls were only interrupted by periodic gags as the choke gag jabbed at the back of her throat.

Now Mistress XS took long deliberate strokes, pulling the dildo nearly all the way out before slamming it all the way back in, paying no heed to the increasingly desperate shrieks coming from Anastasia. Her persistence was finally rewarded when the fifth and final ball in the stack popped into the woman's cunt. The final horsehair covered lump, the size of a tennis ball, forced its way inside her. At the same time, the spikes on the tip of the dildo jabbed hard into Anastasia's cervix and the spikes surrounding the base of the dildo met with Anastasia's stretched labia. The woman bucked like mad. She thrashed so wildly that she even managed to snap the restraint holding one of her wrists to the floor. Anastasia frantically reached behind her, uselessly trying to stop the assault. Mistress XS, encouraged by the agony she was inflicting, carried on.

Beth watched for minute after terrible minute while Mistress XS conducted her punishment with painful, punishing strokes. Anastasia was soon exhausted and overcome by the intensity of her suffering. Her cries grew weaker, her thrashing less violent. Mistress XS, sensing that she had nearly wrought the most agony possible, slammed the Punisher all the way in one last time, then unhooked it from her hips, leaving it buried in Anastasia's stretched and scraped cunt. She then took a wide leather strap and fitted it between her legs from a buckle on the front of her corset to one on the back, ensuring that the poor woman couldn't expel the awful item inside her - though at the moment, the weakened woman seemed capable of nothing more than raucous sobs and pathetic mewing.

"I think it's safe to say that's a lesson she will never forget," Mistress XS remarked, turning to Beth.

"As for you, you've had well over a day to come up with a suitable punishment for yourself. What would you have me do to you?"

By now Beth had spent so long astride the wooden pony that her entire body was in constant, intense pain. There was no longer any relief to be found in trying to evade the ridge. No matter what she did, she would end up with her weight pressing persistently on her poor cunt. Any respite from either hauling on her tits or lifting with her exhausted legs was only temporary, teasing her with the inevitable conclusion that she would end up back down on the pony, no better than before, and almost certainly worse.

"Please, Mistress," Beth croaked. "Do anything you like to me. Peel and burn my tits. Whip every inch of my body. Feed me nothing but piss and shit. Fuck me with the Punisher. Throw me in a dark, dank pit. Make me scream. Make me suffer. Make me beg for more."

Beth was completely broken. She was convinced that there was nothing she could say to be taken down from the awful wooden pony. She would die up there, taking her last agonized breath with the incessant pain of the ridge between her legs until the very end.

"Mmmm, that all sounds lovely," Mistress XS purred. "And what is the worst thing I could do to you right now?"

Beth raised her head, looked Mistress XS in the eye, and cried. "The worst thing you could do to me right now is leave me on the pony," she truthfully choked out between sobs.

Mistress XS smiled. "I think you're finally ready," she declared. "I'd like to explore some of the ideas you've come up with. Unfortunately, I've been invited by Dr. Zorhof to witness a very special demonstration, so you'll need to wait until tomorrow morning. You don't mind spending another night up there, do you?"

"No! Wait! Please! Don't leave me!" Beth begged. But Mistress XS ignored her and walked out the door.

---

When Katie came to, a day after her horrible labor, she was presented by Dr. Zorhof with a baby book documenting her successful delivery of the enormous balloon lodged in her pussy. It included a dozen photos to commemorate the experience.

There was an initial shot of her huge, swollen belly. Another of a proud and beaming Dr. Zorhof, injecting Katie with the stimulants and drugs necessary to induce contractions. There were several of the delivery itself, the large black balloon looming larger and larger in each shot as it forced its way out of her narrow pussy. Katie's face was a mask of pure unadulterated agony in each shot.

A picture of the audience revealed the crowd of Group XS members and slaves that came to see the momentous event - the look of horror on the slaves' faces were equaled by the delighted smiles shown by the sadists. You could even see poor Molly in the background, still locked in the rectangular frame, her tits swollen to the size of beach balls after having received another dose of Dr. Zorhof's new serum.

At some point shortly after the delivery Katie's exhaustion finally overcame even the effect of the stimulants and she had passed out while Dr. Zorhof stitched up the tears caused by the 'baby' as it passed through her vagina. The good doctor even made sure to put in a few extra stitches to ensure Katie's cunt would be nice and tight once she was fully healed.

The remaining photos revealed what had transpired after Katie's collapse. A triumphant Dr. Zorhof had wrapped the 'baby' in a blanket and posed it in Katie's arms across her chest. Someone had gotten the bright idea to feed the baby with milk extracted from Molly's enormous jugs. The fact that there was no milk in her swollen mammaries didn't dissuade them and a photo of Molly's pale, cracked nipples stretched into the glass cups of a milking machine was included in the book.

On the last page was a birth certificate with the date and time of the delivery, the size and weight of the 'baby', and a photo of the mother - a younger, healthier looking Katie, taken on her first day of captivity, which felt to her like years ago, but was actually only a few weeks back.

Katie had been locked away in a small cage to recover. Dr. Zorhof came by to deliver the book and to tell Katie that in a few weeks, once she'd had time to heal, she'd like to try and see if she could manage to deliver twins!

Needless to say, the news was devastating to poor Katie, who spent the next few days trembling in fear at the approach of anyone.

Chapter 9 - The End of the Line

The Farm

Present Day

Catherine Grace gripped the steering wheel and slowed as she searched for a good place to pull off and hide her car. Last weekend's surveillance had been a bust. She looked over at the newly purchased drone on the passenger seat of her car. This time she'd risk a flyover of the property to see if she could find something suspicious that she could use to get the police to raid the place.

As she slowed, coming around a bend in the road, she was suddenly startled by a white van barreling around the curve. As it passed she caught a glance at the person in the driver's seat and the woman sitting beside him - they were a dead ringer for Tania's descriptions of Dr. Saavik and Dr. Zorhof!

She quickly pulled off to the side of the road and looked down at her dossier on Saavik. It was definitely him! Without thinking, she quickly turned around and sped up to follow the van.

"What are they up to?" Catherine wondered. "Who do they have in the back of that van?"

Her palms grew sweaty as she followed along, trying to stay far enough back to not arouse suspicion, but close enough that they wouldn't get away.

"What do I do? What do I do?" she repeated to herself. She felt like this was a golden opportunity, but she didn't know what to do with it.

After following for miles, she trailed the van into a small town. It stopped at a traffic light. "Should I confront them?" she wondered. "No. They'll just drive off, and then they'll be alerted to my presence."

She followed the van to the next traffic light. Then she saw it. A state trooper's squad car stopped on the opposite side of the intersection. Catherine could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. She gripped the steering wheel hard and floored it. She slammed into the rear of the van ahead of her. Her airbag exploded in her face and glass rained down around her.

Catherine was stunned for just a second, then she jumped out of her mangled, ruined car. She waved frantically to the state trooper, who had seen the incident and turned on his flashing lights, blocking the intersection.

Catherine ran up to van and stole a glance at a visibly flustered Saavik. Zorhof was already on her phone trying to call somebody. Catherine raced around the back of the van as the state trooper exited his vehicle to check on everybody. The force of the collision had sent the van forward several feet. The mangled rear doors had popped slightly ajar. Catherine frantically tugged open the door just as the police officer came around to examine her. As the outside light fell into the rear compartment both Catherine and the police officer stepped back in shock.

In an instant, the trooper's hand was on his gun. "Step out of the van immediately!" he ordered.

---

Sheriff Judy Spite was napping in her squad car, her feet propped up on the dash and her wide brimmed hat pulled down over her eyes. She was ostensibly out looking for Elissa, a missing hiker, who had disappeared after not checking in with the rest of her group the day before. But she didn't bother searching, she knew exactly where the girl was - tucked away in a nice tight bondage suit, waiting for the sheriff's shift to end so that she could come and play. Just thinking of what was awaiting Elissa was making the sheriff feel all warm and tingly.

"Dispatch to Sheriff Spite. Dispatch to Sheriff Spite!" her radio crackled.

The sheriff grunted and sat up. She grabbed her radio. "This is Sheriff Spite," she replied. "What have you got for me?"

"Can you switch over to a secure channel, ma'am?" the dispatcher asked. The sheriff clicked over to the command channel.

"Ma'am, state police are asking for local support securing the perimeter for a raid over on the east side of the county, near Highway 20. I think they said it was the old Van Pelt Farm."

Sheriff Spite's blood ran cold. She was fully awake now. "When do they need us?" she asked.

"They're still gathering their resources. They've asked us to be ready, but keep a low profile until they go in.  Sounds like about an hour from now," the dispatcher answered.

Sheriff Spite told the dispatcher who to send, selecting from a few officers she knew she could trust. Then she whipped out her phone as she started up her car and raced back to the police headquarters. She pulled up a phone number labelled 'Martha's Packing Supplies' and wrote a single text: I need priority delivery on a package. I'll be by later today.

There was nothing more she could do but hope her secret message was received and acted upon. Elissa, unfortunately, would have to wait to see her another time.

The Farm

A day later...

Catherine walked the empty halls of the farmhouse, policemen buzzed about carrying boxes of evidence here and there. She stepped inside each room, taking in the smell of leather, sweat, fear, and sex. She saw the cages, the boxes, the racks, the whipping posts - all empty now. Just thinking about what the rescued girls had experienced horrified her, and at the same time she felt a tingle up her spine. What must it have been like to be trapped, helpless, bound, and under the complete control of a cruel mistress?

She reached down and picked up a leather hood, examining it closer. She saw the sweat stains in the thick leather. She looked on the inside and saw the teeth marks on the attached gag. She glanced around to see if anyone was looking, then snuck the hood into her purse. She would look at some more tonight, in the privacy of her home.

---

Mistress XS glared at the monitor for the hidden cameras emplaced throughout the farm. All her favorite toys, all her favorite torture devices were being hauled off by the police.

"Who's that blond in the skirt?" she asked. "The one who just put the punishment hood in her purse."

"That's Catherine Grace, mistress," Sheriff Spite replied. "She's the one who started this all when she crashed her car into the van that Saavik and Zorhof were driving with Katie and Hannah in it.  She's also the prosecutor who has been assigned to our friends' trial."

"Hmm," Mistress XS replied. "Get me all the information that you can on Miss Grace. I want to know why she's been meddling in our affairs."

"Yes, mistress," Sheriff Spite said.

Mistress XS pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "Mrs. Van Pelt?" she said when the person answered. "It's Victoria. How are you doing today? It seems like we'll need to expedite the move to our new headquarters. Is the psychiatric hospital ready? ... Excellent! I'll have our people start preparing for some new guests immediately. Thank you Mrs. Van Pelt."

Epilogue

The trial was open and shut. The evidence against Dr. Saavik and Dr. Zorhof was overwhelming. Though from the twenty or so girls rescued from Group XS, only four were willing to testify:  Hannah, Beth, Katie, and Emily. The rest were too terrified or traumatized to speak up. Tania was brought in to relate the tortures she had experienced at the hands of the doctors back in Russia. In exchange she was granted asylum in the United States and put into witness protection, along with the other girls who testified.

Catherine was upset that they hadn't caught the rest of the members of Group XS, especially the evil Mistress XS. Someone must have tipped them off because when the police charged in, the place was mostly empty except for the poor girls who had been locked away in the cruel and inhumane cells and boxes. Somewhere out there Mistress XS still lurked. But Catherine would find her. She had to. The lives of more innocent young women were depending on it.