The agreement was that mercy would end the contract, and she could go home without her new identity.
“No, absolutely not,” said Tara. She was a little high from the adrenaline of the wrestling training.
“And you’ll have a slight advantage,” said Christopher. “You’ll be oiled up.”
He personally poured baby-oil all over her, and rubbed it all over, coating her thoroughly.
She was breathing heavily by the time he finished.
“If you make it to the doorway, you get a boon.”
“A boon?” she asked.
“Yeah, anything you want, within reason. We’ll give you whatever you want, extra food or drink or an alcoholic drink or whatever, anything except an early end to the game or more money. Good luck,” he said, and impulsively, she kissed him on the lips.
He smiled her, that warm engaging smile.
The two paramedics – both of whom were now naked, but both of whom wore stocking masks over their faces – circled her on the mat. Both of them had semi-stiff erections.
One rushed her and tried to grab her around the waist; she dropped out of his grasp and freed herself easily.
The other one grabbed her arm, and she twisted against his fingers and rushed past him. He tried to grab her again, diving and grabbing her leg, but she easily slid out of his grasp again.
She made it to the door, surprised at how easy it was to get past them, now that she’d had a little training.
It was a breathless, exhilarating experience, and made her feel powerful.
“Bravo!” said Christopher. “What boon can I grant you, my lady?”
She considered. “I want Z and these two paramedic doofuses to line up on the mat and jack off, like three monkeys.”
Christopher laughed at that.
The three men knelt on the mat and she watched, playing with her own nipples, while the three men dutifully and obediently knelt on the mat and worked their cocks through their fists until they exploded.
* * *
Derek entered the warehouse, using the alleyway entrance that the man – the doctor, as it turned out – had told him about. The door had a numeric code panel as a lock, and he entered it using the code the doctor had given him. He was wearing the doctor’s long coat and his hat, though the doctor had told him that the security cameras on the outside were probably not being monitored.
He entered the door and walked up a long flight of steps, his gun drawn.
Derek’s head was still reeling with what the doctor has told him. A BDSM club that traded false identities for participation in their sick games? He’d never heard of anything so perverse. That his stepdaughter would do something like this just proved that she was a sick, lost soul, who needed to be disciplined.
And needed to have her sexuality controlled. Carefully controlled.
Derek went down the hallway, and saw the door on the right that the doctor had told him about.
Derek didn’t think it very likely the man had lied. He had stopped blubbering and begging for his life and had started evidencing a kind of blank, puppyish enthusiasm, an eagerness to please that was the true mark of the really terrified and broken person.
After the interrogation, Derek had smashed the man’s face with the collapsible baton, splitting his lips and breaking his nose. Then he’d zip-tied his hands and feet, gagged, and dropped him in the trunk.
The door wasn’t locked, and Derek stepped in, seeing the blonde woman – dressed in a short slutty nurse’s costume, her huge tits – fake, according to the doctor – sitting at a desk with a computer.
“Got my coffee?” she asked, then looked up and saw Derek, but she didn’t have time to scream.
* * *
Tara was on an x-shaped frame, her wrist and ankles strapped into attached leather cuffs, and another one running around her waist.
Complete naked, her legs spread, she was totally vulnerable. She found that all of her anxiety had vanished; she felt the complete pleasure of utter submission and surrender.
First, the giant known as Z gave her an oil massage, working every muscle with his huge rough powerful hands.
It was damn near better than the fucking she’d received from him. The pain and tension worked away completely, replaced by a bone-deep relaxation. She felt as peaceful as a newborn kitten.
When one of his fingers felt between her legs and stroked the already-wet lips of her vagina, she murmured in thankful pleasure and bucked against it involuntarily, rattling her chains.
“Be still, girl,” he said in a deep voice.
He found the tender bud of her clit with no fumbling.
She moaned aloud, her breath coming fast, as another finger danced over one of her erect eager nipples.
His fingers were moving in delightfully gentle teasing, in tandem, one stroking his clit in the just the barest, lightest, tickling strokes, while the other touched her nipples in the same way, moving from one to the other. Just lightly touching those parts of her body and no other.
She surprised herself in how quickly she orgasmed; it was almost like falling off. The sensation became almost unbearable, like a tickle-torture, but she suddenly came, panting like a dog.
Z held the moist finger he’d used on her clit to her lips, and she sucked it eagerly, tasting the salty sweetness.
“You are a like a fine musical instrument, young lady,” he said. “With the right musician, you can indeed produce beautiful music.”
She was so out of breath that she could barely speak, but she nodded her thanks.
Christopher came in, dressed all in black, as usual, his hair combed back neatly in a pony-tail. The few sexy strands in the front had not escaped yet. She’d be waiting for that.
“Good morning. Are you ready?
“Christopher, do you even have to ask?”
“You’re going to look completely different when I’m finished,” he said, and took the cover off the tattoo equipment.
She felt a moment of hesitation, but only a moment. She wanted a new life, and a new body would be the first step in it. If she looked half as beautiful as the girl she’d seen in the picture, she’d be happy. “I’m ready for it.”
“I’m going to pierce your nipple first,” he said, his voice warm.
She arched her back, sticking her breasts out. “I’m ready.” She was holding her breath though.
He took some fresh needles out of the paper packages, and pulled on some rubber gloves.
She was aware she was biting her lip.
“It doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think,” he said. “I have both of mine pierced.”
“Can I see them?” she asked.
He considered for a moment, and then took off his shirt. His body was nicely defined and ripped, though he had the slimmer body of a dancer rather than a weightlifter. Indeed both his nipples were pierced, and he had a number of tattoos, mainly dragons.
“Your tattoos are … very similar to the ones I’m going to get,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Shade was your … girlfriend?”
He nodded. She could see the sadness in his eyes for a moment, again, and remembered that the real Shade was dead. She was just going to be a replica, a no-doubt inferior copy.
“Nipple piercings will probably make your nipple more sensitive, and you’ll have to keep it clean. It usually doesn’t hurt much but it will be tender. I’ll give you an instruction booklet before you leave here today.”
She bit her lip and moaned as he bent down and kissed and sucked the nipple until it was nice and hard.
“Won’t it be more difficult that way?” she murmured, gasping in pleasure.
He kissed her on the lips. “Yes,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. Then he used gauze pads to apply antiseptic to her right breast, pinched it between his gloved fingers, and prodded it with the metal.
The sharp metal point against her nipple caused her to gasp.
“Ready?” he asked, but without waiting for an an
swer he drove the needle into it.
She hissed in pain. It was no worse than being pinched or bitten, and then the pain flared again as he put the barbell through and attached the end to it. The nipple felt very hot.
Then he moved to the other one.
“How was that?” he said. “You like that?”
She nodded, gasping a little, and the other nipple was already hard, tingling pins and needles running all through her body after the sudden burst of pain, but he licked and sucked it anyway.
Then he wiped it off with antiseptic, pinched it between his practiced fingers, and drove the needle through it.
She let out a cry of mixed pain and pleasure, and was aware that he was looking down at her with naked lust in his eyes.
“Ohhhh, that was … not bad,” she said.
“Of course the only problem is we have to be careful when you play with them, now,” he said. “They might get infected.”
He was getting the tattoo gun ready now, putting a fresh needle in it, and he swabbed her arm with antiseptic and then put the outline of the tattoo – a stylized black dragon – on her right arm.
It hurt a lot more than the piercing, the needle biting constantly into her flesh like a horde of wasps. Her whole body flushed with it, and she began to pant.
* * *
The nurse was a fighter, Derek found.
Even when he pointed the gun at her, she tried to run, and when he grabbed her by her bleach-blonde hair and pulled her back, she tried to claw his eyes.
He hit her in the solar plexus, beneath her huge beach ball tits, with a short left, holding the gun against his body with his right hand so she couldn’t grab it, and she collapsed gagging to the ground.
He took some plastic zip-ties from his pocket and bound her hands behind her back quickly, and then heaved her up on to the desk, laying her across it so that her ass and legs hung over the side.
He spanked her ass hard with the flat of one of his big calloused-hands until she screamed herself awake.
The office had several tables covered with various medical supplies, so he grabbed a roll of gauze bandages and jammed it into her mouth.
That worked pretty well.
The door on the other side of the room burst open and two men came into the room, average-looking white dudes, one wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and looking as if he’d just woken up, and the other wearing a blue paramedic-style uniform. He drew the gun and ordered them to get on their knees, identifying himself as a federal agent.
He wasn’t too surprised when they rather meekly complied.
* * *
She hissed in pain as the needle shot fire into her arm.
“You said I can ask you questions today.”
“Yeah, go ahead,” he said.
“How old are you, Christopher?”
“28.”
“Do you … own this place?”
“Yeah, what, the building, or the club?”
“Either.”
“Well, I own and operate the club,” he said. “The building, is leased. I … you remember I mentioned my brother?”
“The drag queen?” she asked, and he laughed.
“That’s not the polite politically correct term for it, of course. But he liked that expression. He was my older brother and he started the place and … well, he taught me how to operate it.”
“He taught you about … BDSM, also?”
“Well … first, let me say he was my step-brother, not my real brother. And I grew up around this stuff. My father was … an old school porn director. In the 70s. Back when it was relatively new and chic. He made exploitation movies and porn back when they were made on real film. Mother was an actress in his films. They didn’t try to hide what they did from us. I mean, their intentions were good, they just didn’t want sex to be a … mystery. But free love didn’t work out all that well, all things considering.”
“Are you parents still alive?”
“Yes, Dad lives up in Alaska. Mom is a therapist and psychiatrist actually, she works with adult film industry performers and strippers and such, she runs a whole clinic. STD testing and specialty counseling and even tax and accounting advice.”
“Wow.”
“Mom is something special, definitely. I’ll arrange for some sessions with her after … this. Part of your payment. Highly recommend to help you sort through your feelings about … all this. And whatever else has happened to you.”
“She … knows what you do here?”
He nodded. “She doesn’t know all the details, but she knows. And she knows why I do it.”
She considered what he said, and wanted to ask why, but she felt there were probably some painful depths to the story that she didn’t want to plumb into yet.
The fiery needles of the tattoo gun began again, and she moaned as more hot flashes ran through her body.
* * *
Derek quickly zip-tied the hands of both of the white dudes and put them face down on the floor. He regretted he didn’t have anything to put over their heads, it always made it a bit easier to control people when they couldn’t see.
“All right,” he said. “How many more people in the building, and where are they?”
“You’re … if you’re a federal agent, where’s your warrant? And your, like, backup?” one of the paramedic guys finally said.
“Department of Homeland security,” he said, “Patriot Act investigation of possible terrorist-related activities,” he said, and stepped hard on the guy’s ankle, causing him to shriek in pain as it cracked.
* * *
When the tattoo on her arm was finished and swabbed with antiseptic and covered with a plastic bandage, she was given a drink of water and then turned over and strapped into place lying on her stomach on the x-frame. The dragon and sun tattoos on her back were much larger and more elaborate, and it took a while for Christopher to trace them.
When he began to tattoo her back, however, she gasped not just at the shooting pain but when she felt warm breath touch her pussy.
Christopher murmured a laugh at her surprised reaction.
It must be Z, she knew, somehow. Strapped into place, on her belly, legs spread, he had unlimited access to her. She writhed as his big hot tongue moved delicately over the lips of her pussy as the tattoo needle danced equally delicately over her back.
“Now the trick, with all pleasures of the flesh,” said Christopher, “is to maximize the sensation before the inevitable numbness occurs.”
The hot wet tongue danced maddeningly over her cunt lips, as the hot needle moved across her back, driving tingling sensation into her.
* * *
The two paramedics were surprisingly recalcitrant in telling him anything. They kept demanding to speak to lawyers, even after he’d probably broken one’s ankle.
He scouted into the room they’d come from, and he found the security monitors, and that pretty much told him everything he wanted to know anyway.
There was a bank of four monitors; a typical rotating security camera setup. He pushed a few switches and the views on them changed.
It didn’t take him long to find the room where a girl with no hair, strapped onto an x-shaped frame.
His daughter? Jesus Christ, what had they done to her?
And he saw a guy with a ponytail putting a huge tattoo on her back.
And there was a very large bald black man kneeling between her legs … from the looks of it slurping away at her pussy.
Rage shot through Derek.
How dare these motherfucking scum touch that which was rightfully his.
* * *
“Ohhhh,” gasped Tara, “did Shade love to have her pussy eaten?”
Christopher paused in the tattoo and said, “She did. And her asshole, also.”
And with that, the swirling wet tongue moved from her pussy up to her tightly clenching sphincter.
She cried out, feeling like she’d never felt before. Every part of her felt like it was vibrating with l
ife and sensation and pleasure.
“What’s your name?” whispered Christopher into her ear.
“Ohhh, god, my name is … Shade.”
“A girl with tattoos. A girl with a shaved head.”
“A girl who loves to get her pussy eaten,” she moaned.
“And a girl who loves a hot tongue on her asshole,” he said. ‘Say it.”
“Oh, god, I’m a girl who loves a hot tongue on my asshole.”
“Are you a girl who is free? A girl who has a new life?”
“Yes, I’m a girl … with a new life.”
“All that … pain is behind you? The family shit you’re running away from?”
“Ooohhhh,” she moaned as the tongue moved back to her clit, taking her breath away. “All of it is behind me, all of it is gone.”
“In front of you is your whole life, right?” said Christopher. “You can do anything you want. And be anything you want. You’re not a victim. You’re a survivor of something bad, but you’re not going to let it destroy you or fuck up our life.”
“Ohhhhh, yes,” she moaned. “I’m a new person with a new life.”
* * *
Upstairs in the office, Derek stormed out of the security room and hit both of the paramedic guys in the head with his baton, drawing blood, and then moved to the nurse still draped over the table. He pulled the hem of her nurse’s dress up over her hips and pulled away the white thong there, ripping it away easily.
“You dirty dirty scum laid your hands, your mouths, your cocks, on my daughter, the girl who belongs to ME,” he raged, smacking the nurse repeatedly on her round muscular ass until it was bright red.
When he was almost too tired to move his arm anymore, he pulled out his throbbing hard cock and began forcing it into the pulsing brown eye of her asshole. Without so much as spit for lube.
He loved the sounds she made into the gauze gag as he fucked her ass.
* * *
She was approaching orgasm. And she knew it would be one of the biggest ones yet. She felt it building deep inside her, not just her cunt, but seeming to come from her extremities, all over her, the electric needle dancing on her back as the black man’s big fingers began sliding in and out her pussy as he continued to gently tongue her asshole.
Three Days a Slave: The Complete Novel Page 6
