The Mistress drew her into the arms of the skeletal steel beast and applied her limbs to it, snapping the steel shut and tightening every buckle until Maria was rendered totally helpless. Her inverted pose caused a trickle of gathering pressure into her head that was accentuated by suffocation when the kink in the tube stifled her breath.
The Mistress locked her fingers beneath the hem and removed the sheath with a single haul. The skin beneath was sweat-slickened from fright and exertion, and in place of the hood the metal scaffold was slowly tightened into place to grip her skull and compress her jaws tightly shut as it had done to the other pet.
Maria mewed softly and gave brief flashes of protest against the trammels, unable to affect her situation in any way, as her eyes could not stop wandering across the sultry latex curves of her owner. She could not hold back this fascinated lust, it was an intangible force within her mind that drifted through her fingers whenever she tried to pin it down and examine it.
Fully condemned and helpless, Maria watched dolefully as the Mistress took up a lengthy surgical glove and began to ease her hand into the transparent latex sheath, hauling it up until it covered her elbow.
“Time for a little examination, slave. If you relax and be obedient, it will hurt less, and that is a lesson that will dictate practically every second of your life here,” she stated firmly.
Clenching her fist, the material squeaked softly. Deliberately keeping herself in Maria’s vision the Mistress opened a tube of embrocation cream and smeared the gel across her fingers.
Leaning in close, moving between the splayed legs, she looked down at her slave’s imprisoned head and put her fingers to the opened rear. Maria clenched desperately but the woman was implacable and not to be thwarted.
“Suit yourself and learn the hard way if you wish, slave. Whatever I want to do, will be done whether you love it or hate it,” she decreed and with a steady application of force the wriggling fingers burrowed their way to Maria’s rear and started to slide in. Greater force was levied and the digits started to enter together, forcing open the orifice, expanding it abominably as the burning caustic fires of the cream assailed the tender flesh, making Maria jolt as the violation continued.
“There we are, we’re getting there. That cream will keep you nice and spicy hot while I work, slave,” she smirked, the flicker of amusement vanishing a second later as her sour demeanor fell back in and smothered the image of merriment.
The woman ground her entire hand into Maria’s tracts, riding it back and forth, stretching the flesh, making it more accommodating to her will.
“Come on, almost there. Just a little more. You’ve taken so much already, slave,” she remarked as she toiled, the slow piston drives racking the opening again and again, bringing it to a spike of pain before retreating and then retrying, gaining a little more space each time via the ruthless lessons.
“I think this one will do it, slave. Get ready, here it comes,” she commented, and as Maria squealed in denial the hand relentlessly plunged forward, opening her wider and wider until her knuckles reached the burning ring. Finally the Mistress was able to fully pierce the doomed slave, her fist sinking in until the muscular ring of Maria’s rear gripped at the wrist in spasming twitches like a toothless rabid maw.
Maria burbled and yowled, the woman driving backwards and then plunging back in, impaling her terribly, making her abdomen vibrate with the intensity of this outrageous profanity.
“Yes, you like this don’t you, slave?” she mocked upon observing Maria’s berserk fits and started to swing her violating extremity from side to side, churning Maria, giving new vitality to her dance.
The balled fist drew out and slipped free, letting the heat of the attack dwindle to less piercing peaks. In response Maria went slack, hanging in her bonds, her ears ringing with her own cries, her rear still being burned by the cream.
“I think this tight little hole has learned its lesson don’t you, slave?” she asked softly.
Maria affirmed with forlorn murmurs to agree with her tormentor.
“But we have an entirely new orifice to educate yet, don’t we, slave?” added the officer as she tore off the glove and selected a fresh one.
The Mistress started to apply fresh layers of the baleful gel to her fingers and closed upon another opening.
Maria thrashed and screeched against the frame holding her down, her mouth kept tightly shut, her distorted pleading doing nothing to affect the Mistress save appeal to her villainous depravity.
Latex-sheathed fingertips touched her vulva and slithered in, the cream easing their entry before making the flesh suffer its ardent chemical kiss. The stretching of her sex by this massive intruder brought suffering that had her wriggling insanely in her trammels.
Maria squealed as the woman forced an entry and then punished her with obscene verve, her sex fighting to expel the trespasser. The woman worked in silence, committing her deed with diligent attention, savoring Maria’s dismay in full.
The spear of flesh slipped out and did not return, leaving her raw and lethargic, all life having fled her limbs and torso, the trial having stolen another sliver of her spirit. Tears were spilling prolifically from her eyes, her body quivering from shock, her hindquarters alive with riots of discomfort.
The Mistress moved beside her head and gently caressed her cheek, the touch sliding easily upon the salty tears and sweat.
“Are you my slave?” she asked quietly.
Maria’s eyes jerked open and focused on the towering latex deity loitering over her, soothing her sorrow with a nurturing touch. The murmured acknowledgment was obvious even if unintelligible.
“You know you have to be trained don’t you, slave? Once you’ve been broken, once you’ve given in to my will, you’ll relish your captivity as much as my other Hound does. So many treats await you if you commit yourself to surrendering to my rule,” she explained casually as though such reeducation were nothing out of the ordinary.
Maria burbled more agreement, the words half issued to placate the woman, but also there was part of her that saw the wisdom in it and she realized that she was starting to lose herself to the eldritch rapture of her slavery and retraining as a pet.
“I have to shatter you with punishment and rebuild you. Break that wall created by addiction to a life that no longer has any meaning here. Mutants? KGP? Governments? The outside world? None of that matters here, my slave. I am the ruler of this place and you are my subject - safe, secure, protected, and above all controlled,” she continued, the hand expanding its routes to trace lines about Maria’s tightly restrained body.
“Now are you ready for more, slave?” she inquired, leaning in close to read the minutiae on Maria’s features as her digits began to elegantly tease the tips of Maria’s breasts, sending a delicious wave through her.
Maria nodded imperceptibly as she fought the harness to agree to an extension of her punishment.
“You are absolutely sure that this is what you want? What you know you need?” quizzed the Mistress, continuing the arousing nipple play and again Maria willingly abandoned herself to her maltreatment in the quest of training.
“Good slave. There may be hope for you yet,” she smiled and strode away, her heels clicking upon the floor as Maria could not believe that she had just assented to being tortured. What was happening to her? While it was occurring she was in hell, but afterwards a sly insidious force skulked within her, whispering for more and it was this force that was growing stronger with every second she spent under the grim tutelage of this goddess.
As she lay in her apathetic coma, a silken cloth was fastened tightly about her face, the fabric fitting snugly as the Mistress began to draw free a hose, the small gun atop it ready to spew forth a cascade.
“Water torture. An ingenious and very effective invention that we are both going to have the pleasure of experiencing. You through enduring it as part of your restructuring in becoming my pet, and myself in seeing you react to it as I k
eep you controlled and helpless to my will,” stated the woman, flicking the hose to straighten it the coils on the floor.
A chorus of merry beeps tainted the pensive quiet and with a growl of irritation the Mistress walked to the area of wall beside the door. Opening a small panel she exposed an intercom. Touching the button she barked petulantly into the microphone. “What is it? This had better be important!”
“An emergency broadcast is in progress. All personal are being informed, Major,” came a harried and intimidated voice.
Releasing the switch, she touched another control and listened as speakers crackled into activity and released the message. The voice of Prime Minister Kessler wafted out, her voice charged with solemn passion and dripping with the irresistible charisma that had carried her into a position of power that practically equated to that of Empress of Britain.
“-in response to the growing influence of mutant agents over foreign nations, greater force is being levied against the people of Great Britain. After much consideration and deliberation, I have ended the fruitless negotiations with our critics and they in turn have increased the sanctions unjustly applied against us for nothing more than ensuring our own survival against the rising tide of genetic impurity. I will not tolerate such wrongful treatment of our people, and thus I have recalled our ambassadors from the infected countries and expelled those representatives resident upon our shores. Those strategic points on our soil operated by foreign powers have been taken over and their occupants deported. From this point on we are no longer a part of Europe, we stand alone against the evil that has taken control of our former allies, and in effect a state of war exists between us.”
“All Knights, Police, Military and Territorial Army members are placed on active duty, effective immediately and should report to their designated bases with all haste. All loyal and patriotic citizens should seek to enlist as soon as possible to protect their country from this menace. Those planning to go overseas should cancel their plans for their own protection and those already distanced from our lands should consider an immediate return for their own safety.”
“This crusade has had one goal from the very beginning - the eradication of the menace to our society and way of life, and because our foe has shielded itself behind the walls of other lands we must smash down these barriers and exterminate the enemy wherever it may be found, be it at home or abroad. Great Britain has united and cleansed itself of our sickness and we must do the same for those of the world, those who have lacked the moral fiber and innate strength that has guided us to salvation. Stand proud citizens, for truly we of Great Britain have been shown the way, and with God on our side we shall yet purify his children.”
The broadcast ended and the Mistress switched off the radio.
“Well, it seems as though we have a lot more work ahead of us, slave. Once we have finished with our indigenous mutants, we have everyone else’s to deal with. Hounds like yourself could well be in great demand after the initial fighting is over.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The KGP guards kept Steven upright and frog marched him forward, his feet slithering on the ground, unable to meet the demands of their speedy gait. A door was opened and his enfeebled form was dragged in. When he spied the set of stocks in the center of the shadow-smothered room he panicked and fought against his captors with greater venom.
“Keep still, freak,” hissed the woman at his side and swung a short truncheon into his stomach, the wash of crushing nausea making him sag in their hands.
Presented to the engine of pain, the jaws of the wooden maw parted and accepted his neck and wrists before clamping shut. A bolt was thrown to seal him in and his obstinately defiant legs were steered into ankle slats and similarly trapped.
“Have fun, mutant. We’ll be back for you later,” chuckled the other guard and they strolled off with a casual mocking laugh, slamming the door shut in their wake.
The oppressive blackness of the room devoured the walls and only the weak bulb above him kept the monstrous depths of void at bay.
Heaving at the uncompromising timbers he found them more than able to hold him, and although his claws could paw at the wood, he lacked the leverage to do anything more than inflict shallow scratches. Holding his breath and closing his eyes he pushed at the confines and strained, forcing his muscles to their very limits, extending the parameters of their labors until with a weary exhale he sagged, vanquished and riven by the pain of pulled muscles and chafed flesh.
Assailed by frustration he flew into a berserk series of violent wriggles, hauling and yanking with manic power in a bid to defeat the accursed device, persevering with this quest until he was forced to stop through sheer exhaustion.
“Have we quite finished?” inquired a soft, melodious voice, one soaked with seductive brutality.
From the depths emerged a hint of movement, the vague outline forming into a humanoid visage until it was fully revealed as the woman stepped into the light. She was a vision of beauty, but it was a grim comeliness, marred by her KGP uniform and the malignant glower festering behind her dark eyes.
“Why am I here?” he uttered softly, intimidated by his helplessness and the aura of dread that poured from her.
“You wish to go back to work with your fellow mutants? I thought a change of scene would be better received. Isn’t it nice to get out of the sun?”
Steven was not fooled by this guise of goodwill because he had gained the displeasure of the guards on many occasions in the defense of his fellows. He knew he was regarded as a troublemaker, a dissident, and had taken numerous beatings for his behavior. There was little chance that his being brought here was for anything other than to punish him or kill him.
“Not really, I was working on my tan,” he responded with animus.
“That attitude is the reason you are here. I on the other hand, am here to correct it,” she flatly revealed.
“So you think torture will make me accept your prison?”
“A prison? You mean this refuge for mutants, this sanctuary from the rigors of normal society,” she mocked, indicating the area with sweeps of her hands.
Steven scoffed audibly at the lie that was used to sweeten the existence of the camps. Suddenly his stoical resolve broke as she began to remove his clothes, the torn garments being shifted aside to expose him fully. Clutching to his stamina he tried to keep himself calm, to weather the abuses and keep his rebellious nature safe and intact. No matter what they did he could not acquiesce and let himself be defeated.
The woman paced back before him and moved to the perimeter of the light where a table hid within the gloom and furnished her with a set of leather gloves. With a slow plunge she sunk her hands into the dark fabric and eased them onto her fingers before lifting a slender cane.
Wandering back, she hovered behind him and a soft hum of displaced air gave way to a loud thwack and a shot of pain through his buttocks, the stripe crossing both cheeks and making him jolt against the stocks with shock. Gritting his teeth, he strove to retain his silence.
“No scream? Well, we have plenty more where that came from,” she mused, enjoying her role with depraved relish as she commenced a hail of stinging blows, applying them to his thighs and rear with harsh virulence and steady monotony.
The attack continued to roll onwards, leaving behind his ability to keep track of their number as his mind thundered with the need to implore for a cessation. There was no indication she was going to stop until she had succeeded in shattering his resolve. The pain of the strokes had been bearable at first, but as the constant lick of the bamboo turned his hide from a soft pink to a dark, flushed series of purple welts it became harder to hold back.
The mounting pain of the constant metronome strikes began to swell in intensity, each hack feeding his background agony. Sweat was soon cascading down his features, his teeth chattering as a frenzied drool fell from his curled lips.
A single stroke stepped beyond the boundaries of his endurance and his mo
uth opened to air a gurgling croak. Another carried the session out of his reach and prompted a cry, and a third opened him to a burbling solicitation to end her assault.
“There we go, that’s what I wanted to hear,” she chuckled, and ignoring his words of sobbing she maintained her abuse, demeaning him totally as she continued with silent firmness.
“So much wailing. Few mutants break this easily, you must be much weaker than most. I can’t imagine how you even managed to annoy the guards, someone as obviously delicate as yourself should fold at the first harsh glance,” she stated as she beat him.
Suddenly she stopped, leaving him loose within the wooden restraints as she walked out before him and removed her military cap.
“Phew, that was some fun sport, eh my little mutant?” she idly commented, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on her brow. “These uniforms are nice, but they can be a little hot.”
To Steven’s befuddlement she began to unbutton the top, rolling her leather gloved hands down the front and then sloughing of the stark jacket. Standing before him in combat trousers, boots and a black bra, she flexed her leather fists and set aside the top.
She was an amazing vision and it took some severe convincing to keep his libido in check, his mind zealously trumpeting the reality that she was a KGP tyrant to be hated and reviled.
“Mmm, that’s better,” she purred licentiously, letting her hide coated hands drift across the smooth pale skin of her torso. Steven averted his eyes as he felt life entering his manhood.
“Now that’s not very flattering is it?” she scolded, stepping forward and delivering a stinging backhand slap across his features. “I would have thought the sight of a normal, unblemished human would have been a treat for you. Oh well, back to work then.”
Sauntering past she left his field of vision and entered the gloom, arming herself with a different kind of weapon.
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