Adie had decided to make me one of his ‘pets.' He was training me up daily and was confident that with the right incentives he would make me his doormat in no time at all. The threat scared the hell out of me because since that day in the library, I hadn't seen Fabiana again and had no idea what had happened to her. When Adie got into a temper, he was a man to be reckoned with, and I knew that I didn't want to get on the wrong side of him. His kind of crazy wouldn't think twice about killing me if the mood took him, and I had a job to do before that could happen. Time was running out, and I desperately needed to find out what had happened to Dumortier. I didn't think I would last much more than two weeks in this place, so I needed to get my skates on.
Today, I awoke when the regular girls began getting out of bed. They still kept me chained up, but I had been relieved to discover I wasn't the only one. All the new girls were kept chained and were generally accompanied everywhere they went. After everyone else had filed out, we would be collected, released from our cuffs, and given our respective assignments for the day. When they came for me, I had three maid girls circling around me, and that gave me pause for alarm. Why was one not enough? This didn't bode well, I thought.
Sure enough, I was led away to a different room this morning, and it looked like a beauty salon. There were spa baths, nail stations, and padded chairs in front of sparkling mirrors for hair styling. Glass bottles of lotions and potions sat around in their glistening containers, promising to do all kinds of wonderful things, and the smell was heavenly. It was also suspicious. Why me? Why today? I didn’t bother voicing the question out loud because by now, I’d figured out that no one would answer me. After a week of barely using my voice to do anything but groan or moan, I was beginning to feel lost inside my own head. I knew that they were trying to dehumanise us, but knowing what they were up to didn’t make the process any easier.
In relatively short order I was bathed, waxed and smothered in moisturiser. Then my hair was trimmed and styled, fake eyelashes were applied, and I was treated to both a manicure and a pedicure. Unlike most women, normally this wasn’t something I enjoyed, and today I felt like a lamb being prepared for slaughter. When they had finally finished they began to bring in the outfit I would be expected to wear for today. Considering it had wires trailing out of it from all directions, it didn’t look good. My bright red toenails quivered in apprehension – for all the good it did them.
The three maids got me into the clear plastic, latex outfit in less than five minutes, and it was quite an accomplishment. At first glance, it looked a bit like a romper suit, but there were some distinct differences. The wires seemed to lead around the suit to little pads. Two of these pads were quite small and situated around the nipple area. One was much larger, on the base of the suit, and would be placed in front of my clit. If that were all I had to contend with, perhaps things wouldn't have been so bad, but the suit also featured two clear dildos, and there were no prizes for guessing where they would go. I sighed.
Bottles of lubricant were brought out, but the girls might as well have saved themselves the trouble. I’d been denied release for so long, I was dripping wet even when I slept. In fact, it made sleeping almost impossible, and for days, I’d done nothing but toss and turn for a good hour or so at bedtime before exhaustion would finally claim me. Today looked like it was going to be another lesson in endurance.
Each maid was very precise about the positioning of their pads, and dildos. Before long, they had me wrapped up in transparent rubber and ready to go to the slaughter – well, almost. My feet were then squeezed into a pair of white, peep-toe stilettos, and a couple of white rubber mittens were placed on my hands. A transparent plastic, O-ring gag was then inserted in my mouth and tied around the back of my neck, while a plastic hood was then popped over my head. It featured a single large hole near my mouth. You're probably thinking that's so I could breathe, but I knew differently. The gentlemen around here weren't too bothered whether I could breathe or not.
After I’d been securely kitted out in the ridiculous outfit, my hands were then cuffed behind my back to add insult to injury. Honestly – weren’t the mittens enough? Apparently not, for I was then marched out into the corridor, flanked by all three maids. It gave me a moment’s pause. Had someone discovered who I was? Was this an easy way of getting rid of me? If they had, I really didn’t want to die in see-through plastic. It wasn’t going to be a good look.
We seemed to have walked for hours by the time the maids finally stopped at an imposing set of double doors. I suspected that had something to do with the stilettos I was wearing, as they pinched quite brutally, but even so – we must have walked a good mile or so. The compound we were in was much bigger than I’d initially thought, and as of yet, I hadn’t found a single escape route. Maybe today would be the day.
The maids knocked at the door, and we stood in silence, waiting to see what would happen.
“Enter!” A voice boomed around the corridor, although there was no one bar us in it. Hidden cameras and speakers were everywhere in this place. I rolled my eyes and waited with bated breath to see what this new day would bring.
Gingerly, the maids carefully opened the door and ushered me inside. I frowned. Usually, they stuck to me like glue, but they didn't want to go in here, that much was clear. Was it because they weren't allowed? Interesting.
Squaring my shoulders and holding my head up high, I let my high heels do the talking as I walked proudly into the great unknown. My sixth sense was already screaming that something unpleasant was going to happen, but around here, that was quite normal – so I decided not to panic - yet.
The door closed behind me with barely a whisper, and the sound of scampering feet could be heard as the maids took flight. Looking around me, the glare of lights made me blink, and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I found myself in a large hall that was filled with all sorts of weird and wonderful apparatus. The place was filled with ropes, hooks, and D-rings, some attached to the wall and some suspended from the ceiling. I could see athletic style equipment in the form of swinging rings and bars, but there was plenty of stuff I couldn't put a name to, and while some of it looked benign, most of it looked plain evil. Unless I was mistaken, today was going to be a challenge, and not just for me. There were eight women dressed in similar outfits to me, and they were lined up against the wall to the left. They were all looking at the far end of the hall where several men were gathered. At the moment they seemed to be engaged in tying knots and creating some kind of rope harness. Whatever it was, I suspected it wasn't going to be fun. Shuffling back towards the others in my high heels, I waited patiently for the fun and games to begin.
When a stream of suited men began filing through the door beside us, we all took an involuntary step backwards, even though we were already up against the wall. None of us wanted to be noticed and with good reason. We all had a good idea of what we were up against. That didn't mean we weren't all paying attention to what was happening. Everyone's eyes were facing forward, mostly with dread, but we still wanted to know what the hell we would be in for shortly. It didn't take too long to find out.
“Gentlemen, welcome to Carte Blanche. We’re so glad you could join us here today for our monthly ‘Predicament Bondage’ challenge.” I instantly recognised that voice and my head whipped around to the back of the room where my nemesis, Alain Dumortier, stood. Christ, I was getting sloppy. How had I not noticed him before? There was a chance he had only just entered from the back, but my lack of awareness unnerved me.
"We have a lovely group of ladies lined up for you this evening, all of whom will be displayed for your intimate perusal shortly. Make sure you give each one a full and thorough inspection gentlemen because if you pick the winner of tonight's little session, you'll net our top prize – one million pounds." There was some animated chatter after that little comment, as well there might be, but the room soon fell silent once more as Dumortier began speaking again.
"Ea
ch slave will be required to complete the entire course. The one to do so in the quickest time will be crowned the winner. There is a ten-minute time limit on each task, and a slave will be disqualified if they don't manage to accomplish their objective in the allotted time. To make sure your slave moves quickly, you can provide your own added incentives by means of whips, canes or paddles. Is everyone happy?" There were lots of nodding heads, which seemed to indicate they were. "Well, all that's left for me to say is may the best man win!" Then he shook the hands of all the men assembled, before turning towards us. We were all cowering in the corner, trying our best not to draw attention to ourselves, when suddenly everyone's eyes were upon us. "Now go and examine your slaves, gentlemen. Pick wisely. There can be only one winner." Dumortier's exotic voice rang all sorts of alarm bells in my head, and all my instincts were screaming murder, but that's kind of hard to do with your hands in mittens and cuffed behind your back. I was beginning to think that everyone already knew who I was and that some kind of conspiracy was taking place here. All I needed was my bare hands, free and unfettered, and this guy would no longer be able to roam the earth. If I could just get rid of these mittens and find something to pick the damn cuffs open with! Gah. It killed me to be so close to the man, and so damn helpless.
Men swarmed around us in fairly short order. We were quickly pulled away from the safety of the wall and carefully investigated by each participant, and when I say carefully, I mean extremely carefully. Some of the gentlemen felt along my arms, thighs, and calves – presumably for some kind of muscle definition. Others turned me this way and that, perhaps trying to decide if I was slim or fit enough to complete some of the challenges. Others were the more typical type of Carte Blanche clientele, and they were only interested in squeezing my tits, cupping my sex, and admiring all the dildos that were firmly lodged inside me. I was asked to run, crawl, and jump. I was told to wiggle my ass, shake my tits, and spread my legs wide open. The requests were barked at me over and over again as each man performed his inspection, and by the time they had all finished I was exhausted, and I hadn't even done anything yet! Looking around, I saw by the looks on the other girl's faces that most of them felt the same way.
“Okay, gentlemen. That should be enough time for the inspection. All you need to do now is note the number on the slave’s back and place your bid in the usual way. Highest bidder wins the use of the slave for the competition, and we all know what’s at stake if you pick wisely. On the other hand, if your slave fails at her task, you will be given the opportunity to punish her at the end of the session.”
With our ears burning, all the slaves tottered back to the wall for a quick rest. Everyone was looking a little nervous, and none more so than I. Examining each piece of apparatus, I tried to figure out what would be required of us. Dumortier said we'd have a maximum of ten minutes to complete each task, so if I could figure out what I had to do ahead of time, that might come in handy. The trouble was, nothing made any sense. All I could see was rope, metal hooks, bars, and hoops. I wasn't looking carefully enough. On closer inspection, there were several things I was missing. Keys hanging from string, red circular buttons, and swinging pulleys were just some of the things I was going to have to deal with. Each challenge was probably going to be a test of mind over matter, and the person who could take the most pain was going to be the likely winner. Call me cynical, but this didn't look like a whole lotta fun.
There was lots of discussion going on at the rear of the hall, and it was obvious the men were being allocated their slaves. There was plenty of animated chatter, some cheers, some frowns, and some arguing. Like everything in life, it seemed there were winners and losers. Dumortier didn’t waste any time in rounding up his flock as soon as the last number had been handed out, and when the pack began marching towards us again, the nervous looks were back.
“Slaves, we are ready to begin.” Dumortier then turned to me with an evil grin. “Congratulations, Thirty-Eight. As you were the most popular choice today with no less than five men bidding for your services, you get to go first, so listen up. Task number one is simple. You will be suspended by your knees on those two hanging rings over there. All you need to do is grab the key suspended a little way in front of you. As soon as you have been fastened in, your time will begin. Good luck.”
Dumortier sauntered behind me as two male slaves appeared out of nowhere. They plucked me up into the air by taking a shoulder each, and before I knew what was happening, they had tipped me upside down and were threading my legs through the hanging hoops. They then tied my ankles tightly to my thighs, which meant I was going nowhere fast.
When they stepped away, I pulled my head up to try and find out where the key was. It took a good degree of straining this way and that, but eventually, I found the shiny silver thing several yards ahead of me, and much higher up than I was at present. I would need to swing quite hard on the rings if I wanted to grab it, which generally wouldn't have been a problem, except for two things. The first being I didn't have the use of my arms which were still pinned behind me, and the second was that my mouth was still gagged, so I would only have my tongue in which to grab the metal object. Holy hell.
It was a good job I relished a challenge. As soon as the male slaves had stepped away from me, I began swinging my body backwards and forwards. I knew I would need to get up a decent momentum to be anywhere close to reaching that key. That wasn't as easy as it should have been with my hands awkwardly pinned, but I managed to get a decent swing going within a couple of minutes. The real test lay ahead: grabbing that key. The first time I got close to it I realised that my head was down too low to catch it, so I had to pull my head and shoulders upwards a little. It was an awkward position to hold, but on the second pass my nose brushed the key above, so I dropped my shoulders back a touch. I kept going like this, swing after swing until I got the position just right. The first time my tongue snaked out to grab the key, it fluttered swiftly out of my grasp. That set in motion a swinging key that was impossible to get near. I wasted valuable seconds as I waited for it to come to a halt once more. By this point my shoulders and head were screaming with the effort it took to hold them up, but I refused to give in. I would have that key or die trying.
“Get on with it, Thirty-Eight. You have four minutes left.” A sharp crack upon my left buttock was an added incentive to get the job done, not that I needed one. Flying back and forth upon the rings, my tongue latched around the key over and over again, only to come away empty. There just wasn’t enough strength in my tongue to get the job done. There had to be another way. Think, Lois, think! The seconds ticked by as I tried to come up with another plan in an impossibly difficult situation and my adrenaline began to spike. If there's one thing I'm good at – it's problem-solving, and working under pressure is my forte, so I concentrated and gave the situation my full attention. It didn't take long for me to come up with something. I might have wasted a minute of my precious time, but my next plan stood a fighting chance, I thought.
Dropping my head and shoulders, I used every ounce of energy I had left to swing higher. My mouth was not needed anymore, this time I was focusing on my knees. I would use them to get as high as I could and then grab the key with my knees, swinging both rings inwards with as much force as I could muster. The plan was a long shot, but where there was a will, there was a way. It would also be nice to stop the jerk behind me giving my backside random cracks with his paddle, so I was doubly invested in the idea.
With the strength in my legs beginning to wane, I took one gargantuan swing with my hips to reach up and seize my glittering prize. Snapping my knees together at the last moment, I plucked the elusive key from its Velcro mooring and took it flying. There were gasps all around me, but I didn't care. I was dizzy with the scent of victory. Carte Blanche hadn't beaten me yet. Relaxing my body, I waited for it to slow down, at which point I would hopefully be freed from the awful contraption.
“I thought you said no one had ever completed this c
hallenge before?” The gentleman who had been wielding the vicious looking paddle behind me sounded slightly taken aback. When Dumortier came around to stand in front of my upside down, hanging body, he narrowed his eyes as he looked at me.
"They haven't. It seems that your luck is in today, Mr. Williamson." While Alain was checking me out, rapid calculations were going on at the back of my head. If no one had ever completed this challenge before, did that mean that no one had earned the one million pound prize before? Would any of the players have known that before they participated? Or did none of them care? Was there a chance I might anger Dumortier by beating him at his own game and netting someone that prize? If he went ballistic, there was always the chance I might get an opportunity to kill him.
"Hmm." Dumortier circled around me, and I felt like a deer being eyed up by a lion. "I have a sneaking suspicion your suit is not working correctly, Thirty-Eight. Let me just make a small adjustment, and you'll be all ready to perform your second challenge." He reached for the waistline of my suit, and after a little searching, there was a soft click. "Perfect. That should make things a little more difficult for you." There was a loud thwack on my backside as he walked past me, and the frustration I felt at being tied, and helpless was almost unbearable, especially when Dumortier was in spitting distance of me. Arrghh.
The male slaves then came to untie me. By this time the suit had sprung into life, and small bursts of electrical current were being sent to both nipples and my clit simultaneously, which made me further appreciate the sleek, oiled muscled natures of their torsos and their sturdily erect cocks that seemed to be begging for attention beneath the gold cock rings they wore. If they felt anywhere near as frustrated as I did right now, I felt very sorry for them. When the twin dildos began to inflate inside me, I felt even sorrier for myself. How in the hell was I supposed to be able to complete any kind of challenge with that going on in my panties?
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