TheTrainingOfTanya2

by Bruce McLachlan

  "Okay, slave. Over here. Quickly!" she said enthusiastically.

  Tanya grabbed the nearest bedpost and hauled herself from the mattress. She jogged over as swiftly as her weary muscles permitted and stared morosely at the device.

  The Mistress opened the helmet at the neck to reveal the interior. The crown hinged against the metal hoop, held the chain, and this allowed it to open into two halves. The Mistress presented the shell to Tanya's head and easily swallowed it up. The faceplate had no apertures save a mouth slit and as she closed the back plate, the lock applied, cut off all light.

  The Mistress removed the small key and Tanya heard her heeled feet against the floor as she went to the cabinets to arm herself for Tanya's suffering.

  The helmet had a tall collar that embraced her neck and made the helmet even more secure. The interior echoed with her breaths and her legs trembled beneath her. Already she could feel fatigue setting in. Her body just needed to switch off and it was swiftly approaching the point of collapse. It seemed that the analeptic powers of the pod's juices were a fleeting effect.

  She felt a heavy metal shackle snapped to her ankle and then the iron band locked and her legs pushed apart by the hands of the woman. The other fetter was applied and Tanya found a significant spread bar kept her legs apart.

  The dense pole prevented her from closing her thighs. It also caused her diminished height to have her lower jaw rest more heavily upon the interior of the helmet.

  "You're still hard. Perhaps one last time?" enquired the Mistress.

  "Why not? She's definitely available in this pose," said her Master.

  The woman's hands reached down and took hold of Tanya's rear. After a momentary squeeze, she let her nails tentatively tickle a route up her bare sides and around her breasts. Tanya swayed slightly against the pleasing touches and listened as they again prescribed her fate.

  "She wouldn't be so accessible in the cage you wanted her in," reminded the Mistress

  "And I wouldn't be so ready to go again without your encouragement to change my mind," he retorted.

  The woman continued to stand behind Tanya and fondle her. A foot dropped onto the spreader bar and captured the pole between instep and heel to stop Tanya from lifting her feet from the ground. The hands of the Mistress started to explore larger areas. They gently wafted up and down her arms, flowed along her flanks, and tickled her rear and the backs of her thighs. The brush of the woman's naked body about her back was highly gratifying and became even more so when she felt the physique of her Master present itself to her front.

  A set of shackles grabbed her hands and she felt the fingers of her Master hold them and raise them high over her head. He locked the hands to the chain and this left her on her tiptoes with her head lost in the small personal prison and her splayed legs serving her to him.

  Her Master curled back and brushed himself to her pussy. Then he started to enter her again, but her tracts had been ravished too much in too short a time and were a little raw. The flickers of discomfort were an impediment to pleasure, but Tanya was now a devotee of such things and the stinging ache in her loins only served to heighten her arousal. Each thrust vexed her sore membranes. The rough grate brought a hesitant bliss, but one significantly tempered by the chafed flesh of her womb.

  Her Master openly helped himself to her bound body as the Mistress randomly groped her. It took him a little longer to attain climax and there was very little to his ejaculation. With his reserves spent, he relished the moment of pleasure and absently withdrew from her. The flight brought a spark of new distress that had Tanya squeak, but came the relief of having her pussy deserted and finally permitted a chance to recuperate.

  "Now that we're done, I think one final addition to keep you nice and warm for the night," malevolently pronounced the woman.

  The Mistress did something in the middle of the bar. The movements she made travelled along the metal to her imprisoned feet and suggested she engineered an added ordeal.

  There was a near inaudible crackle and Tanya felt warmth rise up and touch her crotch. The candle used earlier to assail her was again in use. It had been set to the middle of the bar and now sent up waves of warmth that made her inner thighs and loins flicker with discomfort. The candle was not near enough to cause her harm, but the heat was annoying and irritating where it would make sleep even more difficult to acquire.

  Tanya shook and tottered around in small circles as she tried to accustom to the demands of her confinement. The Mistress gave a mocking laugh and patted Tanya's breasts before tweaking a nipple and then stepping back.

  The sound of them returning to the bed reached through the dense metal hood and Tanya gave a melancholy whine. She tried to shift her legs one way and found that this caused the candle to get close to her inner thighs and afflict it with a sudden angry flare of heat. She was forced by this process to stay where she was. She could not shift the candle backward or forwards because this left her hanging by the helmet that dug painfully into her lower jaw and made her neck flash with unnecessary strain.

  If she wiggled her feet a little, she could waft the candle and dissipate the heat to a tiny extent, but this only made her legs even more tired. She tried lifting one leg so she could maybe tilt the candle enough to extinguish it, but the flame threw up a plume of fierce heat that licked her thighs and made her jolt the leg down with a croak of dismay. Finally, she tried to capture the few meagre measures of her Master's issue and with the play of her tracts, she sought to release it at the right point and thereby extinguish the flame. It hissed and spat once or twice, but did not go out.

  Having exhausted every tactic, Tanya went limp against the demands imposed on her. She closed her eyes against the blackness and breathed softly in the helmet. She tried to calm her addled thoughts and wondered if she should beg or plead for clemency, but that might anger them and cause the addition of more pains. Besides, her owners were probably asleep by now and she did not want to wake them. Despite what they were doing to her, she was still devoted to their rule and did not wish to annoy them. Her consideration was out of adoration rather than fear and keeping her words locked away, Tanya continued to listen to her own steady breath.

  The candle slowly ate away at its height, but the constant thermals were making her crotch more sensitive with time and the decline of heat was a negligible one.

  Despite the cruel applications to try to thwart her sleep, she managed to gain some moments of half-hearted slumber. Yet, they did more to make her aware of how exhausted she really was than to alleviate that weariness.

  Time had little influence in the long tedious burden of her sentence in the helmet. The couple could have taken a brief nap or been asleep for hours when next she felt their hands upon her.

  The shackles let go and her quiescent arms fell to her sides. She heard the creak of leather and the footfall of heeled boots, revealing that while dazed, her owners had dressed.

  The fetters were removed and the spreader bar taken away. Tanya managed to bring her feet beneath her and finally take some of the burden off her jaws.

  The helmet opened and she sank down to her knees before them. Her body folded over and she placed her cheek to the stone. Her eyes had grown used to darkness and could not tolerate the light. It took a few minutes for her vision to return and when it did, she was astonished because, instead of seeing her owners, freeing her, it had been two of the leather-entombed slaves.

  They took her wrists and brought the slack arms behind her. Two sets of steel cuffs were snapped into place and minor lengths of thick chain separated each set of bonds. Another set was applied to her ankles to greatly hamper any and all of her ability to defy them.

  All the precautions were unnecessary. Tanya did not have the vitality left within her to put up any resistance. Her limbs were like lead, her mind smothered in folds that made her feel like a mere automaton. Nevertheless, she knew the women were going to take no risks with loosing their charge and in this regime, it seemed appro
priate that she never be without some sort of hindrance upon her form.

  The recall of being left unbound on the bed before her owners reassured her that they were pleased with her progress and could trust that they had personally educated Tanya in the consequences of disobedience. They were confident that she would lay back and endure their dalliances with her body without even a word of protest.

  The women brought her back to her feet and then drew her out of the room. Tanya's eyes were glazed and her mind unresponsive as she was shown through the passages and to another location. Her chains rattled loudly and she stumbled forward as the slaves led her. She did not speak or even think of anything to say. All she wanted to do was sleep, and several times, she stumbled and almost fell because of her languor.

  She vaguely processed a bath chamber and barely even noticed as the two dark skinned servants set her into a tub of warm water and bathed her. Her chains and bonds rattled against the stone interior and their sponges began to wander over her bound body. They washed her hair and tended her nails while she continued to remain in the same torpor. Once or twice, she thought she heard or saw Denavat amidst the steam and answered to her 'uncles' words. When she did, the slaves would pause and look at each other in confusion before they ignored her delirium and continued to attend her.

  When they had finished, she was dragged out and her body dried before she was taken to another area of the castle. As they progressed onwards, Tanya thought she heard heavy footfalls and the tick of heels, but could not be certain. She assumed it was just wishful thinking and so she concentrated more on keeping her feet shuffling onward.

  A heavy metal gate blocked access to a wide corridor of stone. Flanking the gate were four warrior sentries armed with halberds. Their leering demonic masks made Tanya quiver when they seemed to animate and grin at her.

  Sitting just inside the gate and behind a small wooden desk was a wiry man who was looking through the entries of a huge leather bound tome. He had a quill in his hand and a frown upon his brow. Along the wall at his side were a number of strange collections of metal poles that had been folded up and bound in leather straps before being hung on hooks for ease of storage.

  The passage beyond him was lined with numerous metal doors with hatches set at eye level and at their base. Each had a banded metal exterior with a number etched in gold above their weighty lock. Between each door was a small iron sconce with a flickering oil lamp wedged into it. The lights stretched off into the distance and made the passage ripple with fluttering pools of amber light.

  "A new arrival?" asked the man, his form lurking in the shadows.

  "Tanya Veress. She's to be stored pending her audience," announced her Master.

  Tanya was surprised that they had joined her again and tried to look round to find him. The world was a congealed mess of dark colours and strange shapes. She could vaguely process the words, but not her vision and so her owners remained lost to her.

  "Ah, that Paladin. Looks like you've really been working on her, too," he said jovially.

  "Her Majesty has taken an interest in her," answered her Master.

  "Well, I'll take good care of her."

  The jailer started to enter her details into his book. Tanya could hear the scratch of the quill against the pages and spent a time squinting and trying to focus her eyes. The images settled for a moment and she spied the two familiar forms of her owners. It was a reassuring image that she could keep, happily embrace and cherish while she was imprisoned.

  "What're they? New items?" her Master asked.

  "Straight from the forges. Just got them in for the more troublesome guests," he said.

  Tanya caught a flash of light across his eyes as he turned to give her an admonishing stare. With menace, he set the quill back in its inkwell and closed the book.

  "Well, she's all yours, then. We have some other duties to perform," said her Master.

  "No rest for the favoured."

  "Indeed."

  The sound of her owners leaving reached Tanya's ears. The jailer summarily arose and came to open the gate. When he entered the light, Tanya gained her first real look at him and found him far more attractive than she had at first thought. He was young with feral, almost feline features and a short head of dark hair. His eyes had a private intensity to them that rushed over Tanya's form before he turned his attention to the bundle of keys on his belt. The jailer was clad in leather, with trousers, boots, and a vest. All were of high quality with decorative stitching. On his belt lay a rune embossed stave, a curved dagger, and a pouch.

  He opened the gate and held it wide so he could indicate inward. The two slaves swiftly marched her in.

  After securing the portal once again, he escorted them down the gloomy passage and to one of the cell doors. The jailer opened it as the slaves quickly removed her restraints. As soon as they came away, they pushed her inside.

  Tanya caught a momentary image of a small stone cell as her legs wilted beneath her and she toppled into a clumsy sprawl. The door boomed as it closed and plunged her into darkness. The lock was set and she was asleep before the key had even fled it.

  Chapter Ten

  Tanya stirred from sleep and opened her eyes to see nothing but blackness. Recalling imprisonment she was in, she stretched her limbs and each one found a wall. The cell was warm and her body felt gloriously rested. The sleep had left a heavy lingering weight in her limbs. It felt as though she had slept too much and now had got used to that state. Deciding to indulge this addiction, she curled back up and drifted off again.

  A blinding flash of light made her squeak and cover her eyes. Something was pushed in through the hatch at floor level and the panel was dropped back down and secured. Tanya opened her eyes and rolled the pained orbs against the dark. She pulled herself over and started to home in on the scent of food. Her fingers touched the plate and she instantly started to devour the unknown fare that was arrayed upon it.

  Sitting in the darkness, she finished her meal and then laid back to digest. It felt strangely reassuring to be stored like this, to be locked in a cell and kept until she was required. The notion that she was again floating in one of the pods with her soul being projected elsewhere for the amusement of some malignant devil beast crossed her mind, but there seemed to be too little of input to lend such a thought any credence.

  Having sated one hunger, she decided to treat herself to dessert. Her legs stretched out to touch the walls and remind her of her prison as her hand reached down between her legs. The recall of all that had been done to her rolled through her psyche and proved an effective encouragement. Tanya indulged herself with a long and highly enjoyable session of masturbation. She shook and gasped on the stone floor, her body convulsing as her finger danced. She almost wished for some more distinct sensations because she now linked her pleasure to bondage and punishment.

  The climax she eventually acquired was satisfying, but felt a little hollow and lacking in severity. It made her wonder how she had become so utterly addicted to depravity.

  Tanya scuttled back to sit in the corner. The lack of sight started to have her mind fill with images of what had been in her immediate past. The constant menagerie of perverse deeds, the subjugation, pleasures, and torments were soon making her quiver lasciviously. Tanya tried to keep herself under control, but the fact that her body was not under similar constraint made it impossible for her mind to obey. Her captors had dragged her through experience and memory and now because of it, her natural state was of being truss.

  Her wrists and ankles seemed to itch as they tried to figure out why they were so mobile and free. Her mouth felt somehow wrong without something forced into it to keep her silent. The need for bondage was an undeniable and fanatic craving.

  Tanya fought to meditate, to try to purge the lusts from her so she could rest. She was already starting to succumb to a new notion that would rectify this appalling abundance of freedom. Each time she tried to acquire the required state, she found her body flick
ering with revived libido. The image of the jailer and the sinister look he had given her could not be banished and she found her passions using him as the means to encourage her onwards.

  With an exasperated sigh, she pulled herself back onto her feet and then with a final moan of frustration, she acted.

  Tanya groped her way to the door and started to pound her fists to it. She stepped back and then began to kick at it as well, all the while screaming and howling. She elevated the volume of her hollering and caused as much commotion as her throat could provide.

  A heavy booming note poured through the surface of the door as it was petulantly struck from without. The hatch slid aside and a shock of light poured in. The oil lamps on either side lit the face of the jailer and he was obviously very angry.

  "Shut it in there!" he growled.

  Tanya dashed forward and slammed her palm across the line of bars that prevented her getting through to him. The distress visited to her eyes by the feeble light gave her blow an added pugnacious edge. The shock of the assault and the loud note she rang upon the bars made him jerk back.

  "Right!" he grumbled.

  The jailer slid the hatch back into place and she heard him stomp away. Tanya smiled and stepped back. Her body was tingling and her loins were heating with new excitement. Her moments of freedom were vanishing one at a time. Any second now, they would bind and hold her captive again. Could she handle it? It was too late for second thoughts because she was committed to that doom. What had she done? What would he do? Would it hurt or would it be relatively mild? Tanya had to have it, whatever it was. She could not handle being this loose and able to exploit her own form. She needed ownership, the loving embrace of leather or metal as it controlled and dominated her.

  The sound of the lock unfastening gave Tanya a moment to back up and shield her eyes. The door swung open and she tried to peak through her fingers to see what was coming.