1 comments/ 28167 views/ 18 favorites Ragdoll Ch. 01 By: CapriciousRain Prologue: I was twenty-four years old and soon my life would change forever. I studied the interactive display that loomed before me. The vividness of the whole brought to mind an innocent childhood memory of a beautiful painting I had seen once upon a time: a depiction of a young girl extending her hand to touch the face of a fallen Knight. It seemed she offered him comfort in his final moments. Something about the girl had stirred me, though I did not understand why - then. My memory flickered to another time. I was visiting somewhere, playing a children's game of hide-and-seek. I had just entered into a strange room and closed the door quietly behind me, when something vivid, purple, stuffed into a cardboard box in the corner, caught my eye. Curious, I crept over to it and leaned down, gently pulling the purple object loose from what I now recognized was an assortment of stuffed animals. I turned it in my hands to see a worn ragdoll in a white dress with purple hair. Her face had been sewn with orange thread to mend a tear and her eyes seemed to be looking at me - intently. A small string with a ring at its end dangled from her tummy. I pulled it until there was some resistance and then let go. "Hi. My name is Violet... will you play with me?" the doll said. I looked at her, brushing my fingers over the purple yarn that was her hair, when suddenly the door banged open and the girl I was attempting to hide from came prancing in. She saw me and stopped, her expression becoming very child serious, and then she shouted, "Hey, you can't play with that! You're a boy. Boys don't play with dolls." My focus returned to the task at hand. The display revealed what I was allowed to see: the information I needed to review and approve. There were checklists I would complete, options I would choose, and binding agreements to which I would consent - just a positioning of my right index finger was all that was needed to navigate and select, even to finalize and enter into binding legal contract, my fingerprint captured in perfect high resolution. The cost would be extreme, and far beyond my financial means. I would pay a different price. I was not alone. Jocelyn sat, across the room, peering closely at a display like the one before me, her gaze intent, finger poised to interact. She must have sensed me looking at her though, for she turned at that moment and caught my gaze. One could see the subtlest hint of distant Asian ancestry about her eyes. She offered a tentative smile, and then she mimed tapping her finger toward her display and mouthed silently, "Checklists - do them." She was petite and lovely yet she chose to present herself modestly. She wore no makeup and her clothing was very unisex, just as it had been on nearly every occasion when we had been together. A dark blue exercise suit was her choice today, the cowl of her hoodie drawn up around her face, her chin length hair just peeking out. I watched her turn back to her display. Jocelyn and I were staged in a psych-med processing room deep within a facility known simply as Chalis. The place was an opulent fortress set in a small valley surrounded by alpine forests somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Chalis was a cutting-edge scientific research site for bio-science and viral engineering. It was also an extravagant playground for the super rich who spent lavishly to indulge their every desire. There was little that could not be had if one was willing to pay a high enough price. Chalis also provided personnel to be used in certain types of strategic operations. Contracts existed with elite private special ops groups as well as covert branches of select Governments around the world. I glanced at the timedate: 09:01:26, 10 April, 2053. Leaning closer, I began to read in earnest. Terms and Conditions Brief: In lieu of advance payment in US currency, ten years of service to Chalis authority under conditions of absolute obedience is required as payment for the procedure. There are no restrictions to what may be required of the subject except subject will not be directed intentionally to harm innocents or be placed in harm's way without reasonable chance for succor and for reason of greater good. Cost of procedure is US currency $5,000,000.00; equivalent to two years of service per million dollars. Poor performance will cause the service term to be extended until such time as debt is paid in full. A modest percentage of the money earned for Chalis by the subject will be placed in a secure account for access by subject once service term is complete. If at any time during service, subject gains wealth sufficient to pay remaining amount owed to Chalis, and subject chooses to pay remaining amount owed, subject will be released to private life. Procedure Brief(Layman's version): Viral induced genetic modification; typically arranged between two persons of opposite gender who desire to be the gender that is not their natural born biological gender. Genetic modification phase of the procedure is one-time, and irreversible. Success rate: 98% (2% fatality). Brain is selectively protected during modification, though peripheral non-cognitive changes are likely to occur and hormonal changes post migration may affect personality to some degree. Duration of gender migration procedure is three months in a dual "womb chamber". Virus code-named *** [redacted]. Scientific nature of the procedure i.e. what does the virus do? The pristine virus infiltrates every human cell, targeting one chromosome from each of the 23 pairs, including the 23rd chromosome pair (which determines sex) and "steals" one chromosome from each pair. The virus has been engineered to always prioritize Y chromosome theft, and will only steal a random X chromosome if no Y is present. The virus also makes a copy of each chromosome that is not stolen from every pair, essentially cloning the cell it has stolen from, within itself, leaving every "victim" or "donor" cell bereft of one half of its chromosomes. The mature virus containing 23 pairs of chromosomes assumes properties of the specific cell type it has cloned, and searches for a like cell type to bond to(mate with?); however, the virus will not mate with a cell which contains a chromosome that it has copied as part of its theft and copy action. This is the key to the mature virus seeking unlike DNA, i.e. different chromosomes to bond to. The virus will bond to the similar type cells of a different individual vs. the individual from whom the chromosomes have been stolen and copied. The virus always donates the stolen set of chromosomes, then slowly dies, effectively discarding the copied set of chromosomes. This guarantees that when mating, in the case of male - female mutual gender migration, the cells and chromosomes from the source female will bond exclusively with the cells (with only half set of chromosomes) of the source male. Likewise, the cells and chromosomes from the source male will bond exclusively with the cells (with only half set of chromosomes) of the source female. When the procedure is complete and the virus has fully rewritten one half of each subject's chromosomes, the subjects will each possess half of their original genetic code and half of the other person's genetic code, with gender reversal achieved. The original male subject will be a fully functioning biological female(with intact hymen i.e. virgin) capable of being impregnated and giving birth while the original female subject will be a fully functioning male capable of inseminating a female and fathering a child. The pair who has exchanged gender and genetic makeup with each other should not attempt to procreate; however, sex between the pair is completely acceptable if the situation should arise. Post Gender Migration Service Occupation Brief: The terms were clear and the language straightforward. Once migration was complete, I would be a high class prostitute for Chalis, while Jocelyn would become part of a special operations team. Each of us would have the opportunity to rise through the ranks so to speak in accordance with our performance. Our quarters, clothes, food, and financial provisions for "retirement" would correlate directly to our performance and to feedback received from our clients as well as evaluation by superiors. There were some notes here discussing my psychological profile. The gist was that my profile showed the highest level of submissive tendencies among all of the subjects who had undergone migration to date. It was expected that I would be in high demand by Chalis clientele as well as within the social structure formed among the girls themselves. I paused, noting the next folder I would access. Until now each folder had been captioned with an abbreviated name of its content topic - black text on a ghost-white folder graphic. The next folder was rendered in pale carmine and captioned with one word: Violet. This was the name I had chosen for the new me. I tapped this folder and the display altered dramatically, presenting a three dimensional avatar of a young woman. Virtual pushpins and indicator lines to points on my avatar as well as late stage migration customization and minor surgical option widgets glowed with multicolor brilliance before me. There was an option to provide a detailed overlay onto the avatar - my likely future appearance in detail as projected by computer modeling based on my genetic code blended with Jocelyn's code. I opted not to enable the detailed overlay - I did not wish to see the real new me until I was truly her. I glanced over to Jocelyn's workstation - she had scooted up close, examining the male avatar on her display, her slender finger poised. I felt a stirring within me of deep gratitude to her for what she was offering to me. I knew that she felt the same way toward me. We had shared many of our innermost thoughts with each other during the year leading up to this moment. I can not describe the excitement, and anticipation I felt as I began to choose and specify. In the end, I had chosen two specific "extra" genetic modifications and a suite of minor, mostly cosmetic surgical procedures. Given Jocelyn's hair type and color(straight, black), my post migration hair would be the same; however, I had considered this for a long while and in the end, I chose a gene mod that would alter my hair color to a soft white, like the color of a pearl. I imagined myself with a "Cleopatra" style coiffure, yet pearl white vs. the jet black with which she was often portrayed. My brows and lashes would follow suit. The second gene mod I chose altered my projected eye color from a dark mocha brown to a gentle silver gray like clouds on a rainy day. These mods were perhaps unusual, but they were also rather tame compared to many of the modifications available in this era of bio-engineering. One could encounter some rather wild and exotic things, especially in the great urban centers spread across the globe. For the duration of the three month procedure, we would be drugged, unconscious except for brief periods when we would be induced to near consciousness to verify proper brain function, but we would still be heavily sedated - the intermediate stages of the migration could be traumatic to the psyche. Body mods and cosmetic procedures would be performed during the final three weeks of the migration procedure. The level of drugs in our systems would be lowered gradually, and at this stage, one could be removed from the womb chamber by handlers, for brief periods, and the procedures performed. The benefits of performing the surgical procedures during the final weeks of the migration were that the alterations would become permanent. As the virus completed our tranformation, changes would become a natural part of our final structure so to speak - as a simple example: piercings would never close. I reviewed my chosen list of mods: 1. Total laser depilation of entire body from neck down, to include vulva. 2. Full body skin scan and laser removal of all skin defects or discolorations. I wanted my skin to be a pristine blanket of milky cream perfection. 3. Triple-piercing of both ears: single piercing of lobe, double piercing of helix centered at apex and separated by 1cm. 4. Single piercing of navel. 5. Single piercing of clitoral prepuce(hood). 6. Birth control implant: 3 year efficacy. I understood that in addition to very reliable contraception, I would menstruate somewhat less frequently, and with moderate reduction of discomfort. The final mod was one I had no option to change.It kept dropping down the list as I added the mods I wanted, and could not be deleted or edited. 7. Micro-tracking chip implant: location [redacted]. They would always be able to find me. I had declined many other popular procedures as they were "not me". These options were now down-shaded to gray on my display: breast augmentation, lip plumping, lash implants, permanent eyeliner, feline eye shaping, brow piercing, nipple piercing, nose piercing, tongue piercing. I hesitated. There were other piercings I might like to explore, but I could always opt to pursue them later, in the traditional manner. The list went on. My choices extended my indebtedness to Chalis by an additional six months. I was twenty-four now, so they would own the best decade of my life. Jocelyn was one year older than me. The timedate now read: 12:08:47, 10 April, 2053. I hope that Jocelyn finishes soon - it's time for lunch! ~~~ Procedure initiation day: 10:02:19, 16 April, 2053. Jocelyn and I made love last night - the first time between us; the last time before we would be birthed anew into forms we each had yearned for so desperately. We lay facing each other in a dual "womb chamber" with our limbs intertwined. We were naked, and we both had numerous tubes and bio-sensors attached to our bodies. We were already moderately sedated. The virus thrived and performed its transformation within a blood plasma fluid environment, and we were in final stages of being readied for immersion to be followed by introduction of the virus into the chamber as well as into our bloodstreams via IV. Our nasal passages were sealed with small plugs, and custom mouthpieces were fitted in place. Machines would aid our natural breathing for the duration of the procedure. We would be fed intravenously, and catheters would route any bodily waste outside of the chamber to be processed. Adjustments would be made as our bodies changed. One of the medical team gave a "thumbs up" signal and the upper section of our chamber was set in place and sealed. Warm fluid began rushing in, around us. I looked into Jocelyn's eyes and she looked into mine. I felt a profound sense of serenity in the last moments before I drifted into unconsciousness. ~~~ 14:26:05, 19 July, 2053. There was motion, and light. My eyelids fluttered and then I closed them tightly against the offending brightness. "She's awake." I heard someone say. "Where was I? Who... me?" I thought. I felt a shift to the motion as the medbed being used to transport me turned a corner and then firmed its course. In my emerging wakefulness I imagined myself being wheeled down a long tunnel with no end, peoples' voices and activites buzzing all around me, quickly fading as I passed them by. I tried to speak but all I was capable of was a broken whisper, "Is it... over? Am I...?" A hand touched my shoulder gently and I heard a woman's voice beside me. "Shhh sweetie - don't try to talk yet. Just rest quiet - we'll take care of you. We are almost to your room." Apparently I was not yet supposed to wake because I heard a second, male voice giving instructions, "Sedate her again. I want her to get twelve hours of normal sleep now and then we will begin her post migration rehab. It will require a few weeks for her to regain strength and adjust to the new physiology." After a brief pause, perhaps as an afterthought he spoke again, and this time I understood it was directed to me, "Don't worry Violet. Everything went perfectly - with Jos too." Chapter One: The New Girl I sat in a chair before my dressing table, staring into the mirror. I was inclined forward, elbows resting on the rich wood surface, face resting against my hands which were both curled in such a way that my knuckles pressed against my chin and cheeks. Twenty more minutes until I needed to leave to meet with Director Brentwood. I was quite happy with every facet of my appearance, except perhaps my nose. I scrunched it slightly and tried to wiggle it a little. My features would be considered delicate, fine perhaps, but while my nose was small and pleasing, it was more rounded at the tip than I had hoped for. So rather than fitting the truest definition of refined beauty, I would have to settle for... me. My pearl white hair was cut classical straight, feathered slightly at the tips and it tapered from chin length where it fell forward around my face to moderately shorter where it brushed the nape of my neck. I would grow it longer - all I needed was time. I sighed and glanced at my Netdisplay. There were several news feeds and shopping channels all competing for my attention simultaneously. My "stats" were visible off to one side - waiting to be read by any shopping site I activated. The date was early September. I reread the stats for the hundredth time. I still could not believe it was all real, me; but it was. Height: 5'5" Weight: 112 lbs Dress size: Misses' 6 Bust: 33" (B cup) Waist 24" Hips 35" Shoe size 7 Pantyhose: B Lingerie: S I tapped the Netdisplay to sleep mode, and rose, crossing the room to a full length mirror adjacent to the entry to my walk-in closet. My room was... my room. I would not entertain clients here. There were countless richly appointed suites at Chalis dedicated to private entertainment as well as a large number of specifically themed clubs where guests and staff could mingle. I turned to one side, then the other, then forward again, inspecting my appearance. I had some suspicion regarding my pending appointment with Director Brentwood. In light of this, I had chosen a simple white summer dress, backless, with thin straps that tied behind my neck, white lace thong panties, and a pair of white four inch heels. I found that I preferred the style with a thin strap around the ankle. These were open toed and the straps were studded with small faux diamonds. My breasts, while obvious, were small enough that I really did not need a bra. I walked back to my dressing table and scanned my present collection of jewelry, selected a pair of earrings, small white crucifixes; and hooked them to my lobes. I was not particularly religious, but I liked the imagery. The only other jewelry I wore today was something I considered my intimate joy. I wore two small silver hoops, one piercing my navel, the other piercing the hood of my clit. A delicate silver chain connected the two, with just enough play between that I could engage in normal activity and not be - distracted. I nibbled my lower lip. It was time to go. I slipped from the private apartment building which housed all of the girls into a central courtyard. For a moment I just looked around at the sculpted gardens and the stonework. It was an impressive sight. The air this September day was cool and the sky a vivid blue as far as the eye could see. I breathed deeply and then continued across the courtyard toward Director Brentwood's office building. I was still learning how to walk properly, fashionably, in heels. It felt somewhat like walking on tiptoes with a firm, yet capricious support beneath my heel. I felt both sensuous and vulnerable wearing and walking in them, and I loved it. I had read so many instructions and been coached a little by my rehab nurse. What I needed now was simply practice, practice, and more practice. I can not say how thrilled I was to hear the clicking of MY heels on the cobblestones as I walked across the way and up a few steps, into the austere lobby of Director Brentwood's offices. Ragdoll Ch. 01 I sat alone in the reception area for a short time, fidgeting, studying my nails. I had shaped them myself, and they were still my natural nails. I had only visited the main staff salon once - to have my hair styled. "He will see you now," the receptionist was calling over to me, her eyes indicating the door through which I should proceed. She offered a small smile of encouragement. I stood, smoothed my dress about my hips and then, trying to appear calm, strode to the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Director Brentwood sat behind his desk, about ten steps from the entryway. "Come," he said. Just one word. As I approached, he closed an ornate leather bound book and slid it off to one side. He glanced at it, then to me. "Some things are best not committed to the Net, don't you agree?" I swallowed and nodded. He stood then, gesturing to an impossibly large leather couch a short distance from his desk. "Sit," he directed. I lowered myself gracefully onto the couch, guiding my dress with my hands as I did so such that it was properly arranged beneath my hips and bottom. I sat with my legs together at the knees, my hands crossed in my lap, and looked at him. He rose and moved to stand in front of me. He was an imposing man, clothed in black slacks and a formal gray dress shirt which matched the color of his hair. His eyes were dark chocolate. A black tie completed the look. I estimated he was in his middle forties, but he had taken excellent care of himself. I envisioned a private, very well outfitted exercise facility somewhere adjacent to this office. He folded his arms across his chest. "First, all of this is not about you. It is about Chalis and what you will do for us - and for me." He paused. "Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes Sir," I said. He stepped closer and reached to tilt my chin upward forcing me to look at him, to allow him to look at me. I simply watched him. "I believe you do," he said. "If I tell you to be somewhere, you will be there. If I tell you to do something, you will do it. If I tell you to fuck someone, you will fuck them. When you are given an assignment with a client, you will normally be given a brief on what to expect. It is expected that you will do your utmost to accommodate your client's needs and desires." He narrowed his eyes. "Are we clear?" he asked. "Yes Sir, Director Brentwood... I understand." He was the Dark King, and I his white pawn. He watched me, and I continued to meet his gaze. He reached to toy with one of my earrings. "I may call you 'Saint' Violet if you continue to dress like this," he said, and then continued, "I claim each new girl, her first time." He had lowered his voice and I could see his desire now; not just in his eyes, but by an impressive stirring at the crotch of his belted, zippered slacks. "I thought as much," I whispered. I would help him, offer myself - show him how serious I was when I had answered yes to his questions moments past. I imagined him watching me as I raised my hands to his waist and carefully unfastened his belt and then drew down his zipper. I gently pushed and pulled his slacks down around his knees. As I ran my delicate fingers against his underwear, along the outline of his cock, he pushed me backward, forcing me prone, my left side fully upon the couch, my right leg skewed off the edge, knee bent, the white heel of my shoe just touching the floor. He quickly pushed his black boxers down to his knees as well, freeing his swollen cock and balls. He was hard. I knew it could be almost painful - the need to be INSIDE - in this case, me. I could see his urgency. He positioned himself between my partially splayed legs, his right knee now pressed to the couch, and then used both of his hands to push my dress up around my waist, revealing my white lace thong. As flimsy as this was, he simply pushed the fabric at my crotch aside, revealing me, my delicate nether lips, pink and vulnerable. "My god..." he exclaimed in soft bass tones heavily laden with lust. He slipped a finger beneath my chain and pulled it gently, tugging exquisitely upon my clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me. I lifted my head and neck a little and looked at him poised there, his rigid cock surging with his racing pulse. I drew my right leg up and followed it somewhat with my left, spreading myself open for him, offering what I could only offer one time in my life. With this, he positioned himself to me, using his thumb and fingers to separate my inner lips. I am certain he felt my virginity with his probing touch, and then I felt the swollen head of him pushing slightly into me, finding the right place, pushing a little more... I was not yet fully ready for him but I knew that nothing could stop him now. He held himself there, his body straining, now supporting himself with his left arm, while with his right hand he reached and grasped my hair, behind my head, and held me with a strength that was now forever beyond me. "Look at me," he said. "I want to see in your eyes when I open you." I watched him expectantly. I wanted this, wanted the taking, wanted the hurt. I needed the affirmation of who and what I was now. "Then do it," I challenged softly. With that, Brentwood groaned and thrust himself into me, forcing his throbbing cock into my depths, tearing my innocent veil, the full measure and weight of him in me and upon me. "He's in me now... in my vagina, my - pussy. This is me now," I thought. He lay still for just a moment, and then began to move. His hands gripped my hips and rear as he sought to position me perfectly for him. I felt no real pain or discomfort now, after the initial sharp hurt. In truth I felt just - fullness: natural, warm, inside me; yet I could not say that this caused me physical pleasure, not yet at least. My spirit wept with joy however, to be what I was, and this was of far more worth to me; so I wrapped my legs around his waist as best I could, and clung to him. I felt a deep contentment as I lay there being fucked by this powerful, striking man, twenty-some years my senior, the heels of my shoes pointed to the ceiling and rocking irregularly as he pounded into me again and again and again. I had moistened enough to ease his thrusts now, and he took advantage of this by increasing the length of his strokes. I judged by his breaths that he would last but a brief time longer so I slid my hands down his sides and gently clasped his buttocks, and coaxed him as if pleading for him to give me more - and he did. I knew it when he made a low throaty sound and thrust into me with unrestrained force and need; this happening quickly, six or seven times... and then I felt him ease, all of his weight now simply resting on me. I lay quiet, still, waiting... I could feel him begin to recede, and could feel a sticky warmth begin to seep, and suddenly he was gone. Removed from me, he rose, and for an instant just looked at me - into my light gray eyes, and then he frowned a little and turned away to draw his pants back up. I shifted to a sitting position on the couch now and deftly adjusted my thong, smoothing my dress back into place as best I could. "You are dismissed," he said. "See yourself out." I did. I emerged from Brentwood's office feeling somewhat disheveled. I glanced toward the receptionist and waved my hand a little, seeking her attention. Fortunately, she looked up right away - I believe she had been watching. I offered her a pleading expression and mouthed silently, "restroom?" She gave me knowing smile, not one of judgement but rather one of empathy. "Down that hall, then first left - you can't miss it," she said. This time I spoke aloud but softly, "Thank you." I proceeded as she had indicated, somewhat self conscious, hoping I would make it in time before Brentwood's semen actually started to trickle down my leg. I did, but it was close. I still felt a little flare of panic every time I went into a public restroom; like I was doing something wrong, but the feeling was fading with time. A trio of office workers passed me by just as I placed a hand to the door: two men and a woman, "thirty-somethings", all dressed in professional business attire. One of the men let his gaze linger on me for a moment - I knew the look, but then they were past and I was forgotten in a moment as brief as the encounter itself had been. I slipped inside and looked for an empty stall. It seemed there was only one other occupant and I chose a stall which was two down from hers. I untied my dress straps, then shimmied it up and over my head, draping it on the stall door hook. Everything bespoke of wealth and opulence and was immaculately clean. I eased myself down onto the seat, sighing a breath of relief, and then I scooted my soiled thong down around my ankles and carefully extricated each of my shoes through the clingy lace. I draped it on a very elegant looking toilet paper dispenser. The shade of the paper was a pale lavender and carried a light floral scent - I felt it and it was luxuriously soft. I sat there, leaning forward a little, feeling rather undignified, my shoes slipping against the tiled floor when I moved my feet even a little. Exposure to the cool conditioned air inside the restroom had caused my nipples to firm and peak a little. I tended to myself... When finished and dressed again, I slipped from the stall, holding my cum and blood-stained thong between thumb and fingertips. I pressed my lips, considering, but I had no clutch or purse with me, so I chose, in the moment, to simply drop it into the feminine hygiene products disposal. A rite of passage was complete. ~~~ I had fallen asleep in my bath. The bubbles were gone; the water now tepid. I rose and stepped carefully to the tiled floor, glancing at my naked form in the full length mirror beside my shower. I smiled whimsically thinking, "I have a lot of mirrors." I had a dancer's form, and I was very proud of it. It was early eve of the same day and as I reflected back upon events, the only thing that puzzled me was the slight frown I had seen Brentwood express toward me just before I was dismissed. I toweled myself dry and then slipped into a warm robe and sauntered my way out to the main room of my apartment. The Netdisplay was flashing - I had a message from Brentwood in my inbox. "Already?" I thought. I tapped it open and read: ' Need you at a meeting this eve. 21:00 (9 PM). My office - center court. Security will let you in. I'm sending outfit - wear it, and wear heavy makeup. Client is an important representative of a German pharmaceutical manufacturer we deal with. One of my lawyers offended someone there - now I have to kiss ass to fix it. You will not speak and will likely not be spoken to. You will enter and perform oral sex on the client and then remain attentive until you are dismissed. Under no circumstance are you to allow the client to be soiled by his seminal fluids - Assume you understand my meaning. - BW ' My display showed 19:21:38 - which meant I had just over an hour to get ready. My stomach fluttered a little, thinking of what lay ahead. I figured Brentwood would have my outfit delivered in the same way most of my things arrived. I had shopped exclusively on the Net to date, and stuff was just - delivered. We girls all had a sort of receiving table outside of our rooms and these were often laden with myriad boxes and bags and fluff. I opened my door and, behold, Brentwood was true to his word. There were two boxes. ~~~ An hour and some minutes later I checked myself in the full length mirror beside my closet. I was wearing a dark red stretch tube dress which clung to my every curve, matching red peep toe six inch high heel platform stiletto pumps, and designer pantyhose in a sexy espresso shade, sheer to waist. I loved the feel of the silky fabric taut against my skin and between my legs. I had applied a deep burgundy lipstick pencil to outline my lips, then filled them in with a cherry red, long wearing, transfer resistant matte lipstick. My eyes were made up with a line of dark orange red, blended to a pale tangerine on my lids, completed by another line of dark orange red just below my delicate milky white brows. I wore two small gold hoops and a simple gold stud in each of my ears. I pivoted and posed - the dress was so tight I could see my Venus dimples through the form fitting fabric. I ran my hands over my hips once, assessing, and then decided it was time to go. A whimsical smile touched my lips as I made my way across the main courtyard to the Director's offices - I likened myself to a small pony clip-clopping across the cobblestones. I wobbled a few times as not only were these heels higher than any I had worn to date, but I was on 2 inch platforms as well. Thinking of what I would do, I cannot say that the thing itself excited me, but, the fact of who and what I was now, and that this was expected of me, did. I wondered if anyone else in the world might understand. The night security guard buzzed me in and ogled me openly, with no attempt at discretion. I crossed my arms protectively, which seemed to annoy him, for his expression shifted and he waved with his hand toward Brentwood's office. "Go in, and through his office. There's another door," was all he said. I turned and made my way, feeling certain that his gaze was riveted to my ass every step of the way. I understood, but something about him had unsettled me. Soon enough, the door clicked closed behind me and he was forgotten, for now. I could hear voices, and followed the sound. A door I had not noticed during my earlier visit was ajar, and the voices were coming from the other side. I paused, gathered myself, and then gently pushed at the door, admitting myself to what lay behind it. My eyes widened and I froze there for a moment, in surprised wonder. I stood in an alcove which opened onto a beautiful inner courtyard garden; a fountain at its center, with all manner of flora arranged about in large earth filled planters and vases. A cherub was posed atop the fountain, a constant stream of water from his penis arcing into the fountain's pool. Brentwood cleared his throat and I snapped my gaze toward him, blushing a little though it was unlikely he could see this in the subdued lighting. He shifted his eyes and I took the hint, turning toward his business guest who was seated on a divan a little way from the edge of the fountain. The guest, my - responsibility, in turn looked at me for a moment, took a sip from what looked like some expensive imported beer, and then returned his attention to Brentwood. I judged him to be the same general age as Brentwood. His casual attire spoke to expensive tastes. He wore dark green khaki slacks and a white golf shirt with some sort of hiking boots on his feet. His hair was close cut, light brown, and he had striking blue eyes. The two men resumed speaking in a language that I knew was German yet understood not at all. It was not a language I had studied. I hovered, uncertain, then made way to the divan and lowered myself gracefully beside the German, to his right, then leaned against him just a little and placed my hand upon his upper arm - somewhat as if I were a possessive lover. I drew my legs up onto the divan, careful of my stilettos, and then I waited. Eventually there was a lull in the dialog when Brentwood, seated in a chair opposite to where I lounged seductively against the German, and not far from where I had first entered, opened a portable Net unit onto on a small table before him and started to interact with it. When he looked up again a moment later and arched one brow at me almost imperceptibly - I knew it was my signal to begin. I moved my right hand from the German's arm slowly, letting it play across his chest, paused, then continued a light caress downward until I found his waist, then groin. I gently cupped his cock and balls through the khaki, feeling a hint of what waited beneath. I leaned closer, lowering myself, bringing my head in line with his chest, and then fussed with delicate fingers until I found and freed the button at his waistband, and slowly tugged his zipper down. I became very intent now - I cannot say precisely what I felt, but, I was excited, and I wanted to do this. My heart was racing a little. A bit more fuss and play with my fingers freed his cock from the front opening of his boxers, and I played a first light stroke along the already swollen shaft. I marveled at how hard he was yet soft to touch. He was not circumcised as was the normal custom for European men, his glans just pushing forward from it's protective flesh. The pubic hair I could see was light brown and trimmed. His testicles were only partly visible, accessible, through the opening of his underwear. I dared to look at his eyes then, parting my dark red lips slightly, brushing the pink tip of my tongue seductively along pleasing pearl white teeth. I wanted him to believe that I wanted him, and, in some respect, I did. I shifted, easing my slender legs sideways along the divan, settling myself in place against his right thigh and then I lowered myself to him, enclosing the tip of his cock with my lips, as if testing the flavor of a lollipop. After a teasing moment, I committed, slowly drawing him in, my head descending, cherry lips sealed to his heated flesh until my mouth was full. I drew slowly upward, suckling him, then lowered my head again, my lips gliding sensuously along his shaft. As I began a slow rhythm, my head bobbing in his lap, I formed a small circle with my thumb and index finger around the base of his cock and began to stroke him there as well, with somewhat quicker motions. I felt him start to lift himself to meet me, wanting more, his hips rising as I my head descended. My mouth was somewhat small as was the rest of me and I did not think I could accommodate much more of him inside my mouth and throat. I was going down on him as deeply as I could, and not just to the limit of my comfort. I felt his hand come to the back of my head, at first his fingers stroking my hair appreciatively; then gathering my hair in a firm tight grasp. He began to "help" me as I lowered, pushing me down, forcing himself deeper into my throat. I fought the choking reflex as best I could, holding my breath until he eased the pressure and I could lift again, stealing another quick breath before the next descent. It was not long until I knew him near his peak - his breaths had sharpened and the lifting of his hips and pelvis to my mouth became urgent thrusts. His grip in my hair tightened even moreso and he held my head such that I could not lift it. I struggled, a little, taking my hand from the base of his shaft. In minor panic, I clawed at the divan, trying to brace myself at least. Then he came, holding me in his iron grasp, fucking my mouth and throat, his hips pistoning up from the cushions , pumping himself into me, filling my mouth with his ejaculate. I thought I had prepared myself, but still it was a shock. My instructions had been quite clear so I tried as best I could to swallow the hot salty cum, keeping my lips sealed tightly around his thrusting cock. He slowed after several thrusts, each new one weaker than the last, until he stilled, and I felt my head and hair released to my own control. I remained as I was, my lips still sealed tightly to his now ebbing organ, regaining my composure... I had a wicked thought and so I lifted from his cock and tilted my lidded gaze to him, opening my lips so he could see within, the last of his cum smeared around my mouth and tongue, and then I lowered again and took him in as if it was my desperate need. Finally, I suckled him, then licked him with my tongue until I felt that what I saw on him was more of me than him - my saliva glistening upon his sated cock. I carefully restored him, zipping him up and rebuttoning the waistband of his khakis, and then I lay my head down in his lap and turned to look at Brentwood. Ragdoll Ch. 01 Brentwood finished a few more actions and then closed his Net unit. He looked up casually, and then spoke to the German in a calm businesslike tone. Perhaps it was a question - I could not be certain, but Brentwood's eyes were intense as he glanced once at me, and then focused fully on the German. I felt a hand touch lightly against my hair, and begin to stroke softly. Apparently there was more to discuss, for the conversation continued for several minutes. I fell asleep... I woke to find Brentwood hauling me up, his grip on my left arm so tight it hurt. I wobbled a little but he drew me to his side and supported me there, while offering a graceful gesture to the German to precede us - it was over and time for him to go - this much was clear to me though everything still seemed not quite real in my half wakened state. We proceeded into Brentwood's office proper where they shook hands and then the German departed. Brentwood drew the door closed and only slightly eased his grip upon my arm. I looked at him and saw a grim expression as if he was angry, yet I did not know why. I thought I had done just as he had instructed, to the letter. "What did I?" was all I had a chance to say before he pulled me along toward the front of his desk. He cleared most of its surface with a single sweep of his arm, scattering things everywhere. I heard the sound of something I suspected was very expensive breaking. He faced me toward his desk and then propelled me forward onto it jamming my hips and pelvis against the hardwood edge, forcing me to bend over, pushing my breasts and stomach down against the desktop. I kept my chin from banging the wood by splaying my hands out to cushion the impact, then frantically braced them, grasping the opposite edge of the desktop near Brentwood's chair. I felt my dress being peeled up over my ass and hips and then cool air between my legs as my pantyhose were jerked roughly down around my ankles. I heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and a zipper unzipped. Suddenly, I understood. He wanted me - intensely. I could see the image in my mind: me, bent over his desk, my heart shaped ass presented to him, the pink folds of my sex exposed and vulnerable - a pretty doll posed on long delicate legs tapering down to slender ankles and tangled hose, all balanced precariously upon blatantly sexualized platform heels. He took me then, brutally thrusting himself into my pussy. I felt the heat of his body as his muscled hips slammed up against my ass. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips and he held me, remaining still for a brief time, before he reached beneath me and sought the silver chain I always wore. He started to draw it tighter, slowly, increasing tension, pulling on the hood of my clit exquisitely. I made a soft sound and writhed a little, seeking to follow the pull, but I couldn't. He eased the tension, then tightened again, several times, and then started to tug gently yet rapidly on my chain. I gasped and squirmed beneath him, not sure if I was trying to hump the desk or push back against him, or both. He was expert. He knew how to read my responses - knew just when I was nearing a point of desperate need, precisely at the brink... Then he stopped. My body cried out for more, for sweet release. "Please..." I gasped. This was when he began to ravish me with no restraint. It was a taking, a claiming, him forcing himself into my body and being such that I would never forget. He fucked me - no other words could express his act. In the end, he was slamming into me over and over like a jackhammer until finally he growled primally and ejaculated, convulsing against me until he was spent. He withdrew after a brief time and I could hear him zipping and buckling his pants. He left me then without a word. ~~~ I cried a little now, back in my apartment, curled in bed, my legs still trembling and my intimate places raw. Still, I felt such need for the release he had denied me, I ached - I could not deny myself. I slipped my hand down between my legs and masturbated myself to sleep. Chapter Two: Tiffany Three days later I was finishing a moderate workout on the treadmill. The girls' apartment building consisted of four floors, with a gym, storage area, and a small medical facility below ground level. A cafeteria and staff salon occupied part of the first floor, while the rest of the building was devoted to private apartments. My room was on the second floor. I was wearing a pale green one piece cotton spandex bodysuit with white low cut socks and running shoes. The shoes had a lime green stripe along the side - I was always trying to match colors one way or another. "I know I'm OCD," I thought, "but, hey, I'm not hurting anyone." I was a little sweaty and much looking forward to jogging upstairs to a long hot shower followed by lots of lotion and a quiet day in my room surfing the Net. I was actually a bit of a news addict. I grabbed my towel, draped it around my neck, and headed toward the exit. Halfway between the first and second floor I ran into a trio blocking my way. At first I thought nothing of this and smiled at them. "Excuse me," I said politely. A girl with exotic dark olive features and very long raven black hair spoke up, "This is our staircase. You'll have to use the one on the other side of the building." She did not smirk when she said this - her eyes were icy calm and challenging. I could see instantly that she did not like me, though I had never met her before this time. One of her followers chimed in, "Yeah, you can't come this way." She looked to the raven haired girl for approval. "OK," I thought, "so exotic girl is the leader." The third of the trio spoke to exotic girl, "Come on Victoria... let's just go. She's not worth it." This third girl looked at me with perhaps a hint of apology in her gaze. "I'm sorry, do I kno..." I stopped mid-speech as someone else came up behind me and I felt fingers encircle my arm. I jumped, startled, and looked around - it was updo girl. I had seen her a few times here and there, but I had never made contact with her. I called her updo girl in my mind since this was how she wore her hair. She was a classic blonde, considerably more voluptuous than me. I imagined her accommodating men who dimunitive me would find quite intimidating. "Is there a problem here?" asked updo girl. She looked at the gathering. To me she said, "Did you forget our breakfast?" Updo girl's green eyes gleamed conspiratorially as she pulled me back downstairs and off toward the cafeteria. Exotic girl, Victoria, called after us, "This isn't over little bitch. You can't protect her forever Tiffany." Once we were away from the confrontaton, Tiffany released my arm and offered a friendly smile, "I'll explain that... we might as well do breakfast though. You in?" I hesitated briefly, then smiled in return, "Sure. I could use a... well, what I mean is, a friend would be nice. I haven't been here long," I said. "I know," she said. "I'm Tiffany by the way, if you hadn't guessed from the threat back there, but call me Tif. I'm not afraid of Tori." Over breakfast she explained, "Victoria is pissed because of you and Brentwood." I frowned a little, "What do you mean?" I asked. "Brentwood 's been fucking her for the past few months, but since you showed up, he hasn't bothered with her," Tiffany continued. "It 's only been three days," I said. "Nope. Longer. Rumor is Brentwood saw you in rehab and ever since then, no Victoria. It's not like she's in love with him or whatever, and he's not that type, but being his fucktoy comes with benefits - better assignments, a higher allowance for buying clothes and stuff. She doesn't want to lose that." Tiffany watched me as my shoulders drooped a little and I sighed, "Great... just great." "You'll get through it... I'll help you," she said. I looked at her hopefully, "Friends?" I asked. "Friends," she said. ~~~ Between specific assignments we were required to spend a certain amount of time "working" at the various themed clubs spread out across the Chalis Estate. We all knew that we were tracked; our time and location monitored carefully. If we did not log enough time and actually entertain sufficient number of clients outside the scope of arranged sessions, we would be in trouble; that is, in addition to our service term being extended and reduction of our clothing allowance, the amount of money placed into our post service accounts would be diminished, and we would be given assignments which we would find least pleasant based upon our psychological profiles and sexual preferences. If a client was dissatisfied and reported it, we would be in trouble. We would be interviewed with bio-sensors attached. If we told the truth and it did not mesh with the complaint, we would be judged on the merit of our word. If we lied, it was automatically judged that the client's complaint was valid. It was harsh, but fair, and it was a powerful incentive for us to do what we were here to do. The result of all of this was that the clubs thrived and there were always enough girls available to meet demand. We signed up via Net app for a particular club on a nightly basis if we had no scheduled assignment. Once a given club was full, one could no longer sign up to work at that club, that night, and would have to choose another. Tif and I were chatting via our Netdisplays; she in her room, I in mine. We had decided to start coordinating which club we signed up for so that we could spend some time working together, at least until we were engaged by clients. Perhaps now and again someone might decide they wanted the pair of us. Scarlet Brothel and Gothic were already full, so we opted for Bound Kitten, and then agreed that we would meet for lunch; then spend the rest of the day planning our outfits and preparing. Bound Kitten was a light BDSM themed club, and I must admit - I was excited that this was our choice. ~~~ Electric vans provided transportation across the Estate as needed. They were readily available and frequent running. 20:00 (8 PM) found Tif and I toting our bags(filled with clothes and shoes and other accessories) into the staff entrance to Bound Kitten and heading to the dressing rooms. Our makeup was already done courtesy of the salon back at our apartment building. We opted to just use one room so we could help each other as needed. A short while later we were ready. I was perhaps more undressed than dressed, in a white lace bralette with matching hiphugger panties and a pair of white floral detail closed toe pumps with four inch heels. I had opted for a light silver frosted eyeshadow and clear lip gloss. My intimate chain was a metallic pink tonight. Tif wore some seriously slinky skintight black leather capris pants, a black satin corset with ribbon lacing, and a pair of black peep toe five inch heels with ankle straps. She looked amazing with black mascara and heavy copper-gold eyeshadow. To accentuate her preferred role, she wore a black cat tail whip fastened to the leather at her hip. We both wore club signature black kitten pendant earrings to distinguish ourselves from guests. Just as I turned toward the door and started forward, Tif placed a restraining hand upon my shoulder, "Wait... Do you trust me?" she said. I turned my head. "Probably," I grinned, "What is it?" "Close your eyes and stand still," she said softly. I did so, curious, and sensed her step up behind me. Tif was about four inches taller than me - a statuesque 5' 9", without her heels. The next I felt was a firm constriction around my throat, just tighter than snug. I felt my hair lifted. This was followed by a soft click, then a second metal slipping sound. "Ok kitten, open your eyes," she whispered in my ear. I think I knew before I saw myself in the mirror. She had fastened a white leather collar around my neck and attached a leash - the other end of which was curled around her wrist and hand. "Time to play," she grinned, and gave the leash a tug. I felt a rush of excitement and that indescribable pang which I believe only another true submissive can fully understand. She lead. I followed. ~~~ Chance lead us to one of several bars placed strategically around the club's main floor. Heads had turned as we had made our way and I was sure that some few guests had already set their sights on Tif, or me. We accessorized each other - the wearer and her accessory was merely dependent upon one's point of view. The music was somewhat muted here and the lighting was a subdued kaliedoscope of slowly changing hues - I watched my whiteness shift through rainbow colors as Tif spoke to the bartender, ordering an island breeze. "Nothing for you pet," she said to me playfully. "I'll share though, if you behave." I saw something in her sparkling eyes as she looked at me. She broke the pause by tugging on my leash again, drawing me over to one side of the bar where we would be in view of passers-by. She struck a seductive pose, with drink in her left hand, my leash in her right. She glanced at the floor near her right heel and then to me. "She understands," I thought. I melted to my knees with a liquid grace, then skewed my heels to the side a little and sat on my calves; my left cheek a scant inch from her leather clad hip. Tif brushed her hand to my hair once gently. I felt the leash glide across my bare shoulder and shivered, though I was not chilled. We were putting on an act. I watched the crowd. "Or are we?" I thought. I needed to know. I braced myself somewhat with my left palm against the floor; then twisted a little and slid my free hand along Tif's right leg in a light caress - from the ankle strap of her sexy black heel upward until the pads of my slender fingers rested near the hollow of her inner thigh. Her leather warmth beckoned me. I nuzzled her leg, expressing with my demeanor and my gaze to those who watched that I was blissfully content, devoted, sexually charged - needful with my need to yield. After a moment, I eased my left hand from the floor, bringing it to cling behind Tif's knee, and then I tilted my head up, between her legs. I fluttered my tongue sensuously against the tight leather, gaining the merest hint of what lay beneath. I think she nearly spilled her drink! I felt her wobble but then recover quickly and I heard a soft clink as she set her drink aside. She drew me upward then, curling my leash around her wrist, and deftly grabbed it at a point just inches from where it fastened to my collar. Bringing my face to hers she kissed me. It was a sudden, heated crushing together of lips - mine soon parted by her seeking tongue. We kissed... oblivious for the briefest time; our tongues intertwined like a pair of serpents writhing. "My, my... I think I want this one love," a cool melodious feminine voice intruded. We turned as one, the kiss broken, the moment lost. The woman was of mixed race: black and white and beautiful. Her male companion stood beside and a little behind her, his hand placed protectively upon her bare shoulder; a pale contrast against her dark skin. He looked Spanish or Mediterranean - darkly handsome. Her hair was black, short, stylish; and gleamed with a lustrous sheen as she canted her head. She exuded glamour, elegance, poise. "Come now - the leash please," she said. She extended her hand toward me, fluttering perfect blood red salon crafted nails in a come hither gesture, clearly commanding my leash be given to her. "Let me," her companion spoke. He stepped to us, and offered a most polite and gracious bow to Tiffany. "We shall return her to you... If I may?" He took my leash from Tif then, and turned to me, "Come along little doll. My wife is eager to play." I was impressed by the way he handled the situation. It was the most perfect way to separate us. As they lead me away, I glanced over my shoulder seeking Tif, but all I could catch was a glimmer of blonde, and then I was gone. ~~~ The Kitten suites were equipped with such things as one would expect to find in an extravagant setting which catered to light BDSM themed play. We three were within the Master bedroom of a suite on the topmost floor. Moonlight streamed down through a glass panel above the bed lending its soft illumination to the erotic scene playing before me. Nyah and her husband, Gabriel were naked, standing by the foot of the four post bed, locked in a lover's embrace. She had slipped her hand between them and was lightly stroking his cock as she kissed him. I watched, because it was all I could do. I was also naked, bound, upon my back, spread-eagle upon the bed. Black leather straps linked the cuffs around my delicate wrists and ankles to heavy metal rings which were integral parts of the massive bedposts. There was a little play to my ankle restraints such that I could draw my legs up slightly. I felt blissful in my helplessness. Nyah shifted, turning her gaze to me, and slid her hand down to caress Gabriel's swollen balls. "So hot, and full... I've been teasing him all day," she paused, looking at me. "Can you wait a little longer love?" she said to him as she slipped from his grasp and crept up onto the bed like a cat, positioning herself above me. I watched him gather a robe about himself and settle in a chair beside the bed, his eyes following the sleek graceful movements of his wife. Nyah settled lightly on my middle, somewhat kneeling, astride me. She placed her hands against me, just below and betwixt my breasts, her dark eyes filled with carnal promise. I had judged her to be extremely intelligent and controlling, with needs I could not fully fathom as it was not my nature; yet I knew she intended to ravish me, and this alone set butterflies astir in my stomach and caused a warm wet heat to grow in my loins. "Such a lovely white playground for me," she crooned softly, "And no ink." She slid her hands to the gentle mounds of my breasts and began to pinch and pull and roll the sensitive flesh of my nipples between her thumbs and index fingers, ensuring at times that I was captured just between the tips of her blood red nails. My breathing quickened as did my pulse, and the warmth and fullness between my legs increased. I began to move just a little beneath her as she awakened my need. She smiled at this and leaned closer, bringing her hands to each side of my face, her breasts now pressed to mine, chocolate aureoles rubbing my small pink points and sending tremors of feeling through me. She kissed me, dark lips sealed to mine, forcing her tongue within my mouth, hungrily tasting me... My breath was short when she finally broke our kiss, and shifted, such that she was poised to the right side of me. I felt one sharp fingernail begin to trace a line around my lips and then she slipped her finger within my mouth, offering it to me to suckle. This, I did, until she withdrew it and began to trace a thin moist line from my lips, down along the curve of my throat - between my breasts; ever downward until she paused at my navel, pressing the tip of her nail into my belly button and swirling it there. I tried to move my arms as my arousal bloomed, forgetting my reality for a moment, but the clarity of my bondage reaffirmed itself and all I could do was clench my hands. Nyah gripped my delicate pink chain, near my navel, and began to draw upon it slowly; increasing the tension, then easing it; pulling again gently, then easing; again, and again. My breaths grew sharp and I began to undulate as she manipulated me. She paused, releasing my chain. I looked to her with pleading in my light gray eyes. "What do you want kitten?" she said softly. I could see the desire glowing in her dark eyes as she slowly slipped her right hand between my legs and caressed me there - light touches across my outer lips, already moist with want. I felt her part me as her middle finger delved inside to explore the intimate softness of my pussy. Her thumb settled at my apex and I felt the firm sharp nail seeking, exploring the delicate button of my clit. Being a woman, she possessed a knowledge of me, my body, that no man could aspire to. I was close now... and she knew, that I knew, that she knew. Ragdoll Ch. 02 Chapter 3: Threats and Promises It was mid-morning and I was back in my room. My hair was still a bit damp from a parting frolic in the shower with Nyah and Gabriel, and I was feeling rather languid from all of the attention. I closed the door and secured it, and then just stood there for a moment, reflecting upon everything that had happened these past few days. I wondered what Tif's night had been like. I missed her. The leash and collar she had placed on me were stowed safely in my bag - they were a promise of something to come, to me at least. I wasn't ready to face the day yet, so I padded into my bedroom, removed my clothes and shoes, and buried myself beneath the covers. I snuggled in and within minutes I was asleep. Some time later I woke, but was still not quite ready to rise. I flexed my toes and drew the covers more tightly against my chin... I smiled at the gentle rise of my breasts poking upward like two little tents. Less than a minute later, I heard a beep from my Netunit and knew I had to get up - the sound was probably what had woken me in the first place. I slipped from bed reluctantly and drew on a soft robe, then padded back out into my main room and plopped lightly onto the chair before the villainous machine that I loved so dearly - it was my link to the world, and it was how I shopped! The beeping email was from Brentwood. I was supposed to be in his office at 13:00 (1PM). It was 13:02! "Fuck," I thought. I ignored all of my other communications for now and went into panic mode. First stop, and considering that I would probably end up being fucked somehow, literally, I needed to pee. I stripped from my robe, dropped it on the chair, and then scooted, naked, into my bathroom. I peed... and wiped, and then decided to remove my chain and hoops for now. I set them aside, and for a moment suspended, I just looked down at myself, between my legs, at my vagina. I felt right, the way I was supposed to be. Another beep from my Netdisplay broke my reverie. I flushed and pranced back out across the main living space of my room and into my walk-in closet. I needed to get dressed, and fast. I pulled on a pair of bikini panties - they were a single shade of blue with little raised flowers patterned on them. I "snapped" them at my hips, and then shimmied into a pale blue sleeveless sheath dress while at the same time stepping into a pair of dark blue ballet flats. "OCD girl strikes again," I thought. I grabbed a black bead necklace and slung it over my head, around my neck, while heading for the door; then turned back at the last moment and went to my dressing table and quickly applied a touch of pale pink lipstick. I was out the door fifteen minutes past the time of my appointment with Brentwood. ~~~ "You're late," Brentwood stated. He was seated behind his desk with multiple Netdisplays arranged for his convenience. I could see images reflected onto the polished wooden surface. "Be seated, Violet," he said, gesturing toward his couch. I glanced at him, trying to read his expression, then settled myself lightly, where directed, assuming a demure posture. I leaned forward a little, waiting for him to continue. "Our conversation will be brief. I am pressed for time now," he said. He looked at me pointedly. "I'm sorry," I said. "First, I'm not sure what occurred publicly at Kitten last night, but requests to engage you specifically have been trickling in. You have been noticed. Your chance clients from last eve also left a rather large tip, significantly more than is customary. Good work. If things continue this way, you will see benefits." He watched me. "Next, you will have your tongue pierced. The procedure can be done at the girls' medical facility in your apartment building. A specialized laser is used - there will be little swelling and you will heal within a few days." I started to ask why this was needed, opening my lips to speak, but then I changed my mind and nodded, "Yes Sir." "The reason for this, beyond allure and ornamentation, will become clear in time," he said. "Finally, you will accompany me to our Corporate Masquerade Celebration in late October. You may choose another girl to join us. I suggest that the pair of you plan something interesting to make it worth my time." I tried again to read him, to see a little more of who he was beneath the veneer of Director, but he was a master of control, allowing one to see only what he chose to reveal, and nothing more. "Yes Sir, I... we will," I said. "You are dismissed," he said. ~~~ Upon returning to my apartment building, I stopped in the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. I chose a steamed vegetable dish and a small but sinfully delicious cinnamon roll. Once finished, I proceeded back to my second floor room, thinking again of Tif. Of course, I would ask her to come to the Masquerade with me. My plan was to do some Net shopping after checking my communications. I frowned slightly as I approached my room, seeing some sort of document size envelope resting on my receiving table. I lifted the envelope with my left hand and punched in door access keycodes with my right; then slipped into my room sideways and pulled the door closed behind me. Once inside, I grabbed a nail file from my dressing table and then sat down in the chair before my Netdisplay. I used the file to slice open the envelope and then drew out its contents. It was a picture of a young man, somewhat zoomed in to show his face. The image was quite clear, but there was some sort of line running both vertically and horizontally through the center of the image. I studied the face, and then suddenly, I knew him! It was Jocel... Jos! There was no mistaking the blending of features which formed his vibrant handsome face... I turned the picture over, curious, to find printing there (in deliberately distorted block like characters): "Your schedule is clear. Be in the storage warehouse at 1 AM, or else." My heart sank as I realized what the picture presented - it was Jos, targeted in a sniper's scope. I knew that he would be engaged in intensive training for his role in special ops. It was likely someone there who was targeting him, "but why?" I thought. For the remainder of the afternoon and early eve, I was unable to focus on much of anything. I felt somewhat like I was just going through motions. Concern for Jos consumed me. I could not allow anything to happen to him if it was in my power to prevent it. There was an email from Tif, ' Hey Vi! You won't believe it but I'm tanning on a yacht in the Carribean. I'm with some hotshot CEO - he flew me here on his private jet. I knock him around a little, and let him lick my feet and fuck my brains out a few times a day. He's actually rather fun. I'll be back in a few days, with no tan lines! Um, are we... Do you...??? I typed a quick reply, ' Yes, don't give me a choice - can't wait for you to get back. Yours, Violet ' Time passed. At one point I ordered a titanium captive bead ring for my clit hood along with an assortment of colored beads. I also spent some time looking at tongue barbells, but did not order any yet. I would not really know the size I needed until I was pierced. I loved virtual shopping. I could spend hours changing colors and patterns and styles - creating virtual outfits before finally deciding on those I would actually buy. I lay on my bed and dozed. I paced. When the appointed time drew near, I changed into a simple white babydoll nightie and matching panties, and slid a pair of celadon green slippers onto my feet. If anyone stopped me I would just say that I was not feeling quite right and that I was on my way to Medical, to see the night nurse. Finally, it was after midnight, and time to go downstairs. ~~~ As I passed the darkened fitness center, I imagined ghosts emerging to use the machines while noone live was present to disturb them; cavorting and otherwise doing ghostly things. Soon enough I came to the service entrance to the storage warehouse, and stopped. I stood before the door, listening, gathering myself, then placed a hand to the door and pushed my way within. I could see some light a short distance away, and this became my destination. "Of course," I thought as I approached, and saw the little group with its central figure. "Victoria." "Well, well, the little slut came. Welcome to our pajama party. We're having it especially for you," Victoria cooed wickedly. There were four of them: Victoria and her sidekicks, Chelsea and Melissa, and the nightshift security guard I disliked. He was the one I had encountered recently when Brentwood had summoned me to soothe the German. The girls were all half dressed in pajamas or lingerie. The guard still wore his uniform pants and boots but he had stripped down to just a t-shirt on his chest. Victoria spoke to me again, her tone icy, "I own you now. You do what I tell you to, or I waggle my finger and your precious Jos is history. I've been here for four years - I have connections and influence beyond your simple little perceptions. You might think to go to Brentwood, and you might take me down, but it would not save Jos. Is the situation clear?" I swallowed, my shoulders drooping a little. "Yes," I said. "Good," she said. "You are going to be my little slave slut." She narrowed her eyes, assessing me, then turned to the others and spoke, "Strip her." Chelsea and the guard were anxious to comply. I saw Melissa watching me, wearing a slightly troubled expression. She was the one who had seemed somewhat sympathetic previously, that day on the stairs when I had first met Tif. Chelsea was a brunette with shoulder length hair, which, tonight, she had drawn back into a severe ponytail that bounced as she moved. She grabbed my fine, straight white hair in her fist and yanked my head back a little while the guard started working on my nightie. "Fuck!" he said, "how does this thing come off?" "Just rip it - get it off her," Victoria hissed. Soon enough, my nightie was torn and pulled roughly from me and tossed aside. My slippers were next, and my panties soon followed, drawn down around my ankles and yanked off. I lifted each foot in turn to aid - there was no point in fighting them. The guard was in a crouch, just finishing pulling off my panties when he looked up between my legs. "Damn, look at that sweet little bare pussy. I can't wait to fuck her," he said. You won't be doing that - not tonight at least," Victoria stated. "What the fuck?" the guard growled. "You said I would get some action if I helped you, and altered the tracking logs." "You will... Melissa is going to suck you off. Aren't you Lissa?" Victoria said. She was not asking. Rather than give a direct answer, Melissa padded sexily over to the guard and slipped her manicured nails over the front edge of his pants, at his waist, and drew him after her. She backed up against a seemingly endless row of boxes stacked to the ceiling, and then dropped down to her knees and started working at his belt and zipper. SMACK! My head jerked sideways as I felt the sting of Victoria's hand against my face. "What are you looking at? You are my slave. I am the center of your attention." Victoria said. I could hear Chelsea laughing cruelly behind my back, but she had released my hair when Victoria slapped me. "Get the cuffs," Victoria said to Chelsea. It was clear to me that these two were alike in their natures. Together they were more than either alone. Chelsea moved over to a small gym bag that had been sitting on the floor just at the edge of where the light reached. She bent down and ruffled around in the bag, drew something from it, and then returned to where I stood, naked, with Victoria looming before me. She carried a set of double cuffs, linked together with a short chain. They were cuffs intended to be used to bind a person's wrists and ankles behind their back, which, together, would render one into a sitting-kneeling posture, vulnerable to whatever their captor wished to inflict. I saw eye contact, silent communication, between Victoria and Chelsea, and then Chelsea pushed me down onto my knees and pulled my arms roughly behind my back. I did not resist. Soon enough I was shackled in the double cuffs, my wrists and ankles bound behind me. I could not kneel upright now even if I tried. Victoria lifted graceful hands to her olive shoulders and pushed the straps of her flowing nightgown aside, then let the gown fall to the floor around her feet. She stood naked in front of me, looking down upon me. Even faced with unknown torment from her, for nothing I had done consciously against her, I could not help but appreciate her exotic beauty. Her breasts were much fuller than mine, with richly textured dark rose colored aureoles. A single tattoo, a hand-sized black widow spider, decorated her stomach; the spider's abdomen centered around her navel where a ruby stud provided the widow's telltale hourglass marking. She wore her pubic hair shaved close, in a thin vertical stripe upward from her sex. Raven black hair fell straight, unbound, half way down her back. At this point, Chelsea disrobed and moved in against Victoria. "What do you think a slut should do for her Mistress?" Victoria voiced to me. "Not this," Chelsea taunted, slipping her arms around Victoria's neck and raising her mouth to her. They shared a deep sexually charged kiss... I glanced over to Melissa and the guard. His hands were fisted on both sides of her head, his fingers twined in her dark blonde hair. He was thrusting into her mouth and throat relentlessly. She was kneeling, backed up against the boxes, her hands splayed on his hips, with nowhere to retreat. Suddenly, he grunted, and began a final almost violent assault, his movements smacking her head back against the boxes... His body went rigid against her, and then, finally, he withdrew enough for her to breathe again. I heard her gasping for breath, and for a moment our gazes met, her's tear filled and glassy from the mouth fucking she had just received. SMACK! This time Chelsea had struck me. She moved behind me again and grabbed my hair tightly, and pulled my head backward somewhat. "I think you need to learn to respect your owner," she said. Victoria continued now, addressing me, "I'm afraid there is only one way you can prove yourself to me, and prove that you accept what you are." She laughed softly, her eyes gleaming wickedly, yet I thought I saw a hint of something else there as well. She inclined her head to Chelsea almost imperceptibly and I felt Chelsea force my head forward a little. As this occurred, Victoria spun around in front of me and then she thrust her rounded heart-shaped ass back against my face. Victoria glanced backward over her shoulder and commanded me, her voice laced with dark intent, "Lick my ass, slave." With little choice, (I had to protect Jos), I ran the tip of my tongue softly along the velvet smooth skin of her right ass cheek. "Not like that... do it right," Victoria said icily. I sighed inwardly, and then began to lick gently against her ass, drawing closer to her cleft, finally delving to its center where I flicked my tongue once lightly against her little puckered asshole. "Better, but still not good enough," Victoria cooed back to me. I yielded now, releasing myself to her will and want. I licked her again and angled my head just a little; then pushed my tongue gently up inside her ass, kissing and tasting her there. It was pungent, sharp, unfamiliar. She was clean, but natural. I was not tasting vanilla flavored enema. I sensed that the act was precisely what she wanted it to be for she squirmed a little, and sighed. I felt Chelsea's hold on my head ease a little... "Holy fuck, she's actually doing it," Chelsea voiced. "It's almost like she likes it." Victoria spoke, her voice broken a little with apparent desire on her part for what I was doing to her, "She does, even if she does not. It is who she is. She thrives on... nnhH... humiliation, on being controlled and degraded and used. Hurting her emotionally, and to a lesser degree physically, meets a deep compelling need within her. Without misery, she is miserable." "But we must not reward her too well just yet," she said as I felt her pull away from me. I lowered my head, my face flushed. I waited - it was all I could do. This would be over when Victoria decided it was so. Melissa and the guard had rejoined the little group around broken, naked me. I could see clothes being gathered from the floor around me, and saw my poor torn nightie... Victoria spoke to me again, "Do you understand now, my little bitch slave slut?" she asked. "Yes," I said. I saw Victoria lean down to gather her robe with her left hand, and then watched as her feet came into view in front of my lowered gaze. I noted the dark red polish on her toenails and a single small ring on her left middle toe. "Look at me," she said coldly. I did. She reached between her legs and parted her pussy lips with two fingers and then squatted slightly above me. "This is for not thanking me for allowing you to lick my ass." She urinated on my face with a sustained golden flow... When she was finished, empty, she spoke again, to give direction, "Melissa, get her restraints off..." When this was done, they left me. For a while I just huddled there on the cool harsh concrete floor, shivering from the effects of Victoria's urine evaporating from my naked body. Everything she had said about how I felt was true. Ragdoll Ch. 03 ********** Author's notes: Chapter numbers will no longer be assigned within the body of writing to avoid confusion with the Submission based chapter scheme used by the site. This chapter is somewhat short, and does not truly fit the BDSM theme, but it continues the revelation of Violet's nature and hopefully makes her more memorable within the overall framework of her story. The plan is for this to be a long running story series, limited only by my time to write and by whether all of you readers find the tale (and the tail!) worthwhile. ********** Birthday Surprise! During the two hour Westbound flight, I had been lost in deep thought. Last night had shaken me a little, perhaps more because I was conflicted now rather than than due to what I had suffered. Most would think me crazy. Tif was due back from the Carribean in two days. I wanted something with her, and now I knew that she wanted it too, yet I was trapped in Victoria's web. I would have to do whatever she bade me, and suffer whatever she chose to inflict upon me, and if I was honest with myself, some part of me wanted it. It was early evening now and four of us were speeding along in a posh black limo heading toward my current assignment. I guessed that we were somewhere on the Olympic peninsula - I wasn't getting a lot of opportunity to look outside the window. Our driver, and Nicole, my hair and makeup handler, were in the front seat chatting casually about this and that, while in the backseat, I was giving a slow careful blowjob to my bodyguard. One learned quickly those things which were in one's own best interest. It was pretty much expected that we would bestow favors upon our guards. We were nice to them, and they protected us - some truths were universal. "We're almost there... you'd better hurry up," the driver called back to us. I lifted my mouth from my guard's cock with honest regret. My borrowed diamond pendant earrings swayed as I shifted to an upright sitting pose, and started to primp my clothes. I was dressed in a black knee length pencil skirt and a stylish long sleeve fuschia colored button-up blouse. My underwear consisted of thigh high black stockings and companion garter belt along with matching black silk bra and panties. Classic black pumps completed the ensemble. Nicole was a true professional. She had applied a light foundation to my face, followed with just a hint of blush. My lips were painted with a dark red matte lipstick. I thought of the shade as "dead rose petals". She had also applied a dark violet(like me!) color to my eyelids and had made skillful use of black eyeliner to give me an "Egyptian Princess" look. I had even managed a quick midday visit to the salon in my apartment building where I had received a simple yet elegant french manicure. "Damn Vi, you can't leave me like this," my guard voiced with a growling plea. I looked at him, twisting my lips sideways cutely, thinking fast. I lifted my rear off the seat and pulled my skirt up enough to get my hand in position, and then engaged in a series of maneuvers and contortions... until I had pulled my panties down, around my ankles, then off! I held them in my left hand triumphantly. "This is the best I can do - fast," I said, my gray eyes sparkling impishly. I grazed my fingernails lightly along his throbbing cock. He was still wet from being inside my mouth. I gripped him with my right hand and started to pump him rapidly. I worked my panties inside out with my left hand, and then teased them against his face... His eyes revealed the erotic rush this caused. I concentrated now, pulling and pumping him furiously with my small hand. I watched his hips lifting, heard his breaths grow quick, observed the slight gleaming wetness pooled in the opening of his swollen tip. I judged the moment, then quickly moved my panties from his face to where I could hold them in just the right position to catch his imminent spurts. I moved my right hand as fast as I could now, jerking him off. I watched, pleased, as he erupted, shooting ropes of hot milky cum into my black silk panties... When he eased back, down, I coaxed the last of his cum forth with a few gentle pulls, then folded the panties together a few times and handed them to him. "Yours now," I laughed softly. "I won't really need them anyway and I can't take them with me..." He gave me a wry look but took the wadded panties from me and shoved them in his jacket pocket. While he zipped and composed himself I leaned forward and presented my face to Nicole. "Does my makeup need any touch-up?" I asked. "Kiss lips," she said, instructing me how to present my lips for a quick reapplication of lipstick. It was a luxury to have someone do my makeup. I felt quite pampered, yet I knew it was more for the client than for me. I sat back again as we turned from the main road onto what I assumed was a long private drive. I could see some impressive gothic style gates looming ahead. I recalled the brief. The gist was that I was a birthday gift for some wealthy Import/Export Company executive's son, David, who was just turning twenty-one. The father wanted his son to have the experience without any potential entanglements like those that might arise from involvement with the typical money grabbing groupie bitches who threw themselves at his son fairly regularly. There would be no hidden agendas, no surprise pregnancies, no media circuses if a girl happened to break a fingernail - just unbridled sex and fun for an eve. The goal however was for me to look just like one of those ladder climbing socialites rather than what I was. We stopped at the gates... My driver activated his Netwatch, and voiced a connection number. A moment later he engaged in a brief dialog with someone I assumed was inside the Estate, and then the gates slid open to admit us. We followed a tree-lined drive and then pulled into a circular court in front of the mansion. A fairly traditional fountain surrounded by clusters of bonsai trees filled the center of the circle. Twilight cast a pleasing glow upon everything. "My turn to work now," I thought. ~~~ David was not what I had expected. He was an intelligent, well mannered young man. I could not give a proper name to the room we were in. There was a well-stocked bar in the corner to my right while the entire wall to my left was a library, with shelves from floor to ceiling. The shelves were lined with REAL hardcover books - a rarity in this day and age. The furniture was opulent and tastefully arranged. Across from where I sat on a luxurious sofa was a beautifully crafted set of sliding glass doors which opened onto an indoor swimming pool that looked more like a desert oasis than a traditional pool. I sat in a classic pose with my legs crossed, left over right, and I had mindfully allowed my left pump to slip from my heel a little such that it dangled on my toes. I reached forward to "fix" the problem just as David returned from the bar and proffered the drink he had made for me. He had left his own drink sitting on the bartop. "Oh, thankyou," I said, and fumbled my shoe so that it fell on the floor as I accepted the drink from him. He dropped gallantly to one knee to retrieve my pump. Of course I chose that moment to uncross my legs, allowing him a teasing glimpse up my skirt. He looked. I smiled. He grinned, "You did that intentionally!" "Yep!" I said, and then laughed softly. "I'm yours til Midnight." "No... underwear?" he asked. "Sometimes," I said. I wiggled my stockinged toes playfully indicating that I wanted him to put my shoe back on for me. I took a sip of my drink, watching him. He edged forward, still more or less poised on one knee, and gently cupped my shoeless heel with his left hand, while with his right he carefully slipped my pump back on. "Thank you... you can do whatever you like... really," I said. "Do you like what you do?" he asked, surprising me. "Do you want the truth?" I asked. "Yes, please," he said. "Yes, I do like... what I do," I answered. "I thought you might say that," he spoke softly, blushing a little, then continued, "God, you're beautiful." He moved his right hand to the inside of my stockinged calf and began to stroke me lightly there. He paused after a moment and looked at me with an expression almost akin to reverence. "Can I... kiss you... between your legs? I've never... I mean... I want to know what a woman is like - there," he whispered. My eyes sparkled and I pressed my dark red lips together in a warm smile. I set my drink onto a small table beside the sofa and then I leaned forward and tilted his chin upward with just my index fingernail. I kissed his mouth, ever so softly, like a brush against butterfly wings. Drawing back, I looked into his eyes, and whispered, "Undress - for me, and then you can undress me as little or as much as you like. Then, yes, you may." ~~~ A brief time later I was sprawled back on the sofa in a reclined pose with plush pillows supporting my back and shoulders. I was naked except for my stockings, garter belt, and pumps - unless one counted my earrings and the small plain hoop attached to the the hood of my clit. David was kneeling on the floor with his face pressed between my thighs. I ran my fingers gently through his short brown hair as he licked and nuzzled my pussy. After a few minutes of this, he paused and looked up at me. I reached with my left hand and touched his arm, signaling him to come up to me even as I drew my legs onto the sofa and shifted until I was fully reclined lengthwise. I splayed my legs a little, one heel wedged at the point where the seat of the sofa became the back. He rose, and moved over me, positioning himself between my legs. I ran my hands over his smooth chest, then downward, grazing my fingernails over his cock and balls. I cupped him, and felt him tighten upward. He lowered his mouth to my left breast and consumed my delicate rose pink nipple hungrily. I arched upward to his mouth, but he released me. "Stop... your hands... I don't want to - I don't know how long I can last", he managed to say. "Shh, it's alright, I said. This first time will be quick. There will be more, longer, after..." He nodded. "I... can't believe this is happening," he whispered. I helped him, guided him with my hands until he was poised to enter me, then slid both hands around his waist and coaxed him in. "Now," I whispered. He thrust into me in one smooth motion, his weight bearing down on me fully. I stroked his sides and then drew my legs up and wrapped them around his hips; my stockings against his naked flesh. I heard my shoes click against each other, and then he started to move, to thrust inside me. I felt again the deep contentment of being fucked. I know I was meant to receive. "I'm..." was all he managed to say, and then I felt him surge, his youthful strength bucking wildly, pummeling my pelvis deep into the cushions repeatedly as he jetted his seed within me. ~~~ In time, we made our way poolside. The lighting was dim and romantic. I had left my shoes by the sofa, and now I unclipped my garters and peeled my stockings down, then wriggled from the belt. I stood naked, with no heels to elevate me, with my arms crossed in front of me yet hiding nothing. David took my hand and drew me after him. He settled back onto a lounge chair and then pulled me into his lap. I placed my hands on his shoulders and fed my breasts to him, each in turn, enjoying his attentions there. We might have been two young lovers... By the end of the eve, as midnight loomed, he had fucked me twice more, once on the lounge chair with me above him, and just now again in the pool. I clung to him quietly, my head resting on his shoulder, my gaze turned away from him, just watching the water ripple gently around us. "Thank you," he said softly. I turned to him and kissed him lightly on his cheek. Most of my makeup had been washed away in the pool. "You're welcome," I whispered, then continued, "Don't lose yourself. One day you will be rich and powerful, your father's heir. Stay who you are." "Stay who you are too, Violet. I will always remember you," he ended. ~~~ By 0200 (2 AM), I was snuggled against my bodyguard, half asleep, with Nicole and my driver seated across the aisle from us. I could see the moon behind them, outside the oval window of our passenger jet. It was bright and beautiful when seen from 26,000 feet. Chalis Estate awaited our return. In time I truly slept. ~~~ Sometime around noon, the next day, I woke, grateful to be in my room, in my bed, alone for a little while at least. I wanted a nice long hot shower and something good to eat. I vowed mentally to try to hit the gym more regularly, but it wasn't going to happen if my assignments kept me going until the wee hours of the morning. I slipped from bed and began my routine. I had a random silly thought, remembering my pop-culture history: those old computer people simulation games. I envisioned myself as an avatar scurrying about, sometimes sped up into fast forward motion, doing all of the little things I needed to do. ~~~ By late afternoon, I had accomplished much. I had made the appointment to have my tongue pierced two days hence, the day after Tif was supposed to return. My bead rings had arrived and I was playing with them on the desk in front of me while I surfed News on my Netdisplay. I glanced at my fingernails - I couldn't decide whether I would maintain the french manicure, opt for some color, or just revert to my natural nails. I was engaged in this very important inner debate with myself when an assignment email from Brentwood visualized in my inbox. ' Assignment, this eve, 20:00 (8 PM) Six gentlemen, ages 29 - 41: Blue collar dock-workers who recently won a 200 million dollar mega lottery pool. Clients want a BDSM themed Gang Bang. Vaginal and anal sex will be required. You will work with Victoria on this one. She is lead. Don't disappoint. -BW ' I suddenly felt like a hundred butterflies had taken flight, all at once, inside my tummy - I nearly peed myself. Ragdoll Ch. 04 Victoria and I were together, inside one of the more deluxe BDSM themed suites at Bound Kitten club. Roughly twenty minutes remained before the gang of six(the mega-lottery winning dock worker group) was scheduled to arrive. I had spent most of the latter part of the afternoon preparing myself. Victoria was dressed in a full body black fishnet catsuit with open crotch and ass. She currently sat on a leather couch with her legs crossed, one black fetish height stiletto bouncing with anticipation, watching me. Tonight she had bound her long raven hair into a ponytail. I could see her signature red ruby navel stud, though her widow tattoo was mostly lost beneath the fishnet. I noticed for the first time that her nipples were pierced - she wore a simple gold ring in each. I knelt on the floor to one side of her, naked except for a studded pink leather dog collar she had fastened around my neck. A leash was attached to the collar but I was not bound in any other way at present. Somewhat to my chagrin, my own straight hair was still rather short - only chin length, with blunt bangs. It would take a few months yet until it grew to the length I wished it to be. Victoria was toying with my new bead ring, rolling it back and forth between her fingertips. Her nails were painted with layers of rich black polish. She had removed my ring from me and replaced it with one of her own choosing. "Such a little slut you are," she said. "If you behave I will give this back to you, but tonight you wear one that will prove a bit more... stimulating." Her eyes gleamed as she continued, "See this little remote?" She held a small electronic gadget in her other hand, rocking it to show and tease. I nodded. She frowned. "No more of this just fucking nodding or shaking your head!" she said forcefully. "You will begin calling me 'Mistress' when we are in situations like this, with clients. Otherwise, you will answer me properly - yes Victoria, no Victoria, thank you Victoria... Am I clear?" She arched a thin raven brow at me. "Yes Mistress," I said. "Better," she said, sounding somewhat mollified. "The ring I have attached to your slutty little pierced hood has a small micro-vibrator inside it. This remote controls it - it's on high setting right now," she said, and clicked it on to demonstrate. My eyes widened and I twitched involuntarily against the sudden intense stimulus to my clit. I squeezed my thighs together like I would if I had to pee really badly but was trying to hold it. She watched me knowingly for a few seconds, then clicked it off. "Good, it works," she smirked. "I'm going to use it to train you... Mmm, but I need a pet name for you as well - something a bit better than just slut, though that's what you are and that's how you will be used... How about princess?" She actually smiled, then snatched my leash from where it trailed down loosely onto the floor beside me. "Come here princess," she commanded, and drew me toward her. I scooted on my knees, following the pull of the leash, until I was close. I tilted my head a little to look up at her. Dark eyeliner highlighted her unusual, exotic eyes, waging a war for attention with the glossy red color painted on her lips. She drew me closer until our faces were a scant distance apart, and then she kissed me firmly, tasting my lips and mouth. My surprise must have shown in my expression as she pulled away and looked at me. "I know about your budding thing with Tiffany," she stated. She narrowed her gaze, watching me. "I'm prepared to look the other way, and allow you two to play, BUT, you will never choose her over me in a public display. If you two want to muff dive each other every chance you get, then do it, but, second only to Brentwood, I own you. Displease me, and no more Tif. Betray me, and no more Jos..." Some part of me hated her, yet another part of me was drawn to her like a moth to flame, and she knew it. "Yes Mistress. I understand," I said submissively. "They will be here soon. You will follow my lead," she directed. With that, she rose and tugged on my leash. "Just crawl - it's not that far," she said. There was a single step upward from the main entry room of the suite to the level of the door. Victoria staged us here such that she stood with one black stiletto heel on the step while her other foot was on the lower floor, where I knelt beside her. It was not long until we heard several male voices outside the door. Security would have guided them here since this was an arranged assignment, not a chance encounter like the one with Nyah and Gabriel a few days past. The double doors opened and I could see two Guards dressed in their club uniforms. They ushered in the gang of six, then drew the doors closed behind them. The guards would remain outside, discreet, but available should something get out of hand. I looked up at the six men with some trepidation, but also with a guarded sense of anticipation. I tried to gain a quick first impression of each. I believed that one's eyes really were the window to one's soul, and I could tell much from a brief glimpse. Victoria tugged my leash, bringing my head almost against her hip, breaking my assessment of the men. She issued a short command, "princess, lick." I hesitated very briefly, uncertain, but then started to shift on the floor, in front of her, such that I could bring my face up between her thighs. She tugged the leash again. "Not there... you have not earned that reward yet. You know where," she said. I lowered my head, my face flushing. I crept around behind her, then lifted my face upward and began to nuzzle my way between her ass cheeks, focusing in on her tight little rosebud knot. Soon enough I was tonguing her asshole just as I had done so recently in the storage warehouse. "Good girl, princess," she praised. She must have reached behind herself with whichever hand was not holding my leash, for I felt her cup the back of my head and urge me more tightly against her. I was uncertain whether she did this to demean me or whether she enjoyed it on a physical level, or perhaps a combination of both, but at her coaxing, I delved as deep as I could, french kissing up into her ass... While I did this, Victoria spoke, "Good evening gentlemen. I'm Victoria, and this is princess. She will be the main one servicing you six tonight." "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am," one of the men replied. Another offered, "That's a pretty fucking hot trick there - her tonguing your ass like that. My compliments." Victoria laughed softly, then replied, "Thank you. I'm still training her, but she has potential." I imagined the six of them watching the show and my face flushed a little more. "Alright, stop princess. It's time to meet the boys officially," she stated. "Thank you Mistress," I whispered as I settled back into a kneeling position beside her and once again looked toward the group of men. They in turn were watching me with open lust, distracted somewhat by Victoria, but, I was naked and I was the one they were going to gang fuck, so that gave me the attention edge. Victoria started talking to the men again. "This suite has an extremely well stocked bar." She fluttered her fingers in the direction of the bar room. "You've already paid for anything you can drink, or eat, and I do mean anything. Meanwhile, I'll get princess ready for the first round of fun. Get comfortable, and get those cocks out... Oh... and choose a team. I need three on pussy team, and three on ass team. I'm sure you can work it out. You won't switch teams once we get started." With that, she lead me away, stepping with her stiletto heels in perfect feminine form, tugging me along behind her. ~~~ My toes just barely touched the marble floor beneath my feet, but only if I strained. Otherwise, I dangled. Victoria had bound my arms together with a custom leather armbinder - above my head rather than behind my back as was more common. A weight bearing strap ran from the armbinder behind my head down to where it fastened to a halter like harness she had fitted me with. This was also leather, with an open bust. My modest breasts jutted straight outward, held firm by constriction from the tight harness. A thick rope, such as climbers would use, was fastened to the armbinder and connecting strap, and this ran up to a pulley like mechanism which was bolted to the overhead building structure. I spun in a slow arc, first in one direction, and then in the other, helpless, waiting. I must admit that the bondage alone was stirring my desire. I could feel a warm fullness between my legs - that feeling of wanting something in me. If I were to try to describe the room I was in to someone I would probably paint an image in their mind of an opulent giant circular sunken bath. Every surrounding wall surface presented richly colored intricate tiled mosaics depicting all manner of sensual bondage scenes. There were women and men with expressions of pain and ecstacy depicted in equal measure. Everything else was a warm sandstone colored marble. There were fixtures like shower-heads with lengths of flexible hose coiled and hung in a few places. The floor sloped gently toward a single large covered drain that was set off at one location near the wall. There were seats formed in the marble in a half circle on both sides of the chamber, split at the entry to the room and mirrored at the point of symmetry opposite the entry. Plush towels were set on the seats in abundance. The temperature was warm but dry, thus comfortable. Victoria had staged her little area on one side of the seating at the far point from the entry. She was on the side I could see most of the time while I was slowly half-spinning on the rope. The men filed in now, talking and laughing, exchanging bravado amongst themselves. They has stripped down to their underwear and carried drinks of one kind or another with them. Some carried two. "Ok! - guys," Victoria spoke, "Pussy team on this side, and ass team on this side." The men shuffled a bit but it was clear that they had made their choices and soon enough there were three in front of me and three more or less behind me. One man stood out from the others due to his sheer size. He was a hulk at well over six feet with a shaven head and thick muscular arms and legs. I judged him to be about forty years old. He moved from my vision, so apparently he was on the ass team. There were two whom I thought were not much above my own age, while the others were clearly older than Victoria and me. All of them were relatively fit, likely from sustained hard manual labor and lifting. Victoria's heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she approached me. She held a leather slapper in one hand. "Enjoy the show boys. I'm going to warm her up for you. After that, I'll want to see some sustained chain fucking - one of you in her cunt and one of you in her ass, pretty much continuously. With three of you on each team, the first of you should be ready to go again by the time the third guy finishes. I'll keep you guys warmed up on the sidelines and I'll join the action at my discretion. Part of this effort will serve to train her - a personal goal of mine. I want her to evolve, like a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. She will be so much more exquisite once she comes to need degradation and pain and being fucked in unusual ways in order to cum. We don't injure here however - we're worth too much money to the higher-ups. So fuck your brains out, but no biting, punching, or otherwise intentionally damaging the merchandise." She looked at me now, her eyes gleaming. "Ready princess? This will hurt, but you will learn to love it," she said. She drew the slapper taut between both hands and, for a moment, held it up for me to see. "It's a Scottish tawse," she said. I paled, pressing my lips together apprehensively. She turned her body and drew her arm back. ***SMACK*** A plaintive sound escaped my lips as searing pain flared in my right breast. ***SMACK*** I whimpered again as she struck my left breast and nipple. My breathing quickened. Victoria drew her arm back again. ***SMACK*** This time she had whipped the slapper against my lower stomach... Suddenly, my clit lit up with pleasure. She had turned the ring vibrator on. I shuddered against the conflicting rush of sensations - pain and pleasure mingled. After a few seconds she turned the vibrator off and I heard her heels clicking as she circled around behind me. ***SMACK*** ***SMACK*** ***SMACK*** I cried out pitifully. ***SMACK*** ***SMACK*** My ass felt like it was on fire now from the forceful spanking. I knew that my skin would be reddening wherever she had struck me. The vibrator came on. "nhHHHh..." I gasped. ***SMACK*** My hips started to arch forward involuntarily. The vibrator stopped. Victoria turned and went to her little staging area. She set the slapper down and picked up some other items. I saw a brief glimpse of something bubblegum-pink in color. She turned so I could see, and then she made a show of squirting a generous amount of lubricant onto what I now recognized was a glass butt plug. She made her way back to me, then moved behind me, and eased the tip of the butt plug between my ass cheeks. I could feel her spread me and begin to push the tip into my little puckered opening, slowly working it in. The deeper she eased it in, the wider it spread me. I squirmed a little, and then she rammed it home, forcing the thickest part past my anal ring which then promptly constricted again around the smaller width of the plug at its base. I could feel the grip up against my ass cheeks. It filled and fit me and was held in place naturally - exactly as intended. Now that my ass was filled, lubricated, becoming accustomed to the size and shape of the plug, being readied for the cocks that would soon replace the glass toy, Victoria came around in front of me and tilted her head to the side just a little, as if considering whether she liked the way she had arranged a room of furniture. My breasts and stomach were red where she had slapped me with the tawse. "I think you're almost ready princess," she teased. "Let's see, shall we?" She moved up against me and slid her hand down my stomach, then in between my legs. It felt like she was using her middle finger to rub my pussy lips and part them. I envisioned her skilled hand with black painted nails playing between my thighs as she manipulated me, and soon enough I felt her finger pushed up inside me fully. She started to finger fuck me with slow full strokes, working my natural moisture along my channel, readying me. "Mmm, yes, your'e quite wet and slick," she said. She withdrew her finger from me and circled around behind me. She teased a fingernail down my spine and then I felt her fingers clutch the grip of the butt plug and start to work it free. I heard a small wet sound of suction as she pulled it from my ass. She worked it back in, then out - in, out, in, out, stretching me and making sure that I would be able to take cock full and deep. She stopped, and then crossed in front of me again and strode sexily to her little station at the far edge of the seating and settled herself comfortably, crossing her legs. I saw her set the slapper and the remote just beside her, convenient for use whenever she wished. "This is so exciting!" she exclaimed. "Ok, go guys!" I heard a deep voice behind me, "I'm first, alone." There was a moment of silence... I heard some rumblings, but noone challenged the speaker. "Sure Bull, go for it. Right guys?" someone said. After another moment, I heard them start chanting, "Bull, Bull, Bull..." My stomach flipped. I could only imagine why this guy had the nickname, Bull - he had to be the giant I had noted earlier. If he was hung in proportion to the rest of him... "Dear god," I thought, and then, I had a sudden epiphany. I realized that I was truly excited, in mind as well as body. Not only was my pussy getting hot and wet, but in my mind I really wanted this - bad. My heart was racing. I could not see him behind me, but the image in my mind of this huge man with a thick engorged cock and heavy balls coming toward me to fuck me really turned me on. I couldn't wait to feel his thick male rod thrust up inside me, using me as I was meant to be used. This is what I am, I thought. For a moment, the rush of desire became so strong, I thought I might scream out loud, "Please, FUCK ME!" I felt him come against me, his powerful hands stroking my flanks and hips. Though my toes just grazed the floor, bound and suspended as I was, he loomed over me from behind. He encircled my chest and cupped my breasts with his hands, flicking at my nipples with his thumbs as he spoke in low tones into my left ear. "I'm going to fill you up baby girl," he said. His hands slid down to my hips again, and then continued onward. He moved his left hand to cover my lower stomach, to brace me. His right hand brushed my ass, likely to guide himself. I quivered as I felt the swollen head of his cock push between my ass cheeks, seeking my well stretched, lubricated hole. He started to work his way inside, a slow, relentless force entering me. I felt the moment my body yielded and he slid partway into me. I felt him tense, his powerful form pressed against me. He dug his hands into my hips and then he rammed into me, full, hard, deep, burying himself in my ass to his balls. A pitiful high pitched animal like sound escaped my lips. He grasped my sides, beneath my arms, and lifted me. I was still partially impaled on his cock as he raised me up until the rope that suspended me grew slack. Then he let me fall, allowing gravity to pull me back down onto him, but at the end of travel of the rope I felt myself jerk sharply, the effect causing my ass to clench tightly on him. He grunted, and repeated the effort. He raised me, and dropped me, and the rope jerked me back each time I fell. "You are so fucking tight and hot," he whispered. He lowered his massive hands to my hips again now, and started to pound into me, his powerful thighs slapping against my ass with every thrust. This was when Victoria turned the ring vibrator on again, and I felt the exquisite yet too intense sensation against my clit. I started to squirm and writhe, both to escape and to follow, wishing for respite yet hoping it would never end. I started to whimper from the overwhelming stimulus. There was an additional effect though, and perhaps Bull sensed it, for he slowed his assault somewhat. I started to honestly enjoy him fucking my ass - it was pleasurable, and the way I squirmed must have communicated this to him. I tightened my muscles and pushed back against him, wanting to cause him pleasure, wanting him to keep doing what he was doing, needing him in my ass. My eyes were closed but I turned my head a little to the side and whispered back to him, "Fuck me, harder, please." ***SMMAAAACK*** I screamed! ***SMMAAAAAACK*** Victoria was wielding the tawse again, slapping against the fronts of my legs and my stomach, careful to avoid Bull's hands. "Please..." I squeaked. "Alright, if it's what you want," Victoria said wickedly. ***SMAAAAACK*** Bull increased his rhythm and I felt the warm moisture of his exertion against my back where his muscled chest was pressed. "No... Don't, stop," I gasped at Victoria, and then suddenly I felt myself reach a crest, and fall over it. My whole body tightened, and I started to buck and jerk, convulsing uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the flood of too many intense sensations. The clutching of my pussy as I orgasmed was somewhat mirrored in my ass, and this must have been enough to draw Bull over his own threshold, for I felt him surge, holding me in his iron grip. He arched, and thrust into me almost violently, six or seven times in quick succession. He grunted. I whimpered. Victoria turned the vibrator off. I felt him slowly ebb. I do not believe that my legs could have supported me now if I had to stand on my own. He slipped from me wetly and I could feel his cum start to leak from my ass. Ragdoll Ch. 04 "Good girl princess... Who's next?" Victoria called out. Ragdoll Ch. 05 "mm, mhm, mmhh, nhhH, mhhH..." I sounded pitiful as the throes of another orgasm claimed me, wracking my body with tortured delight. The third guy on ass team was pounding into my butt-hole while number two from pussy team was jack-hammering into my cunt. Bull had started the party solo. The second sandwich fuck of the night coupled with the now constant buzz of the ring vibrator fastened to my clit hood had me jerking like a puppet on a string between the two men who were fucking me relentlessly. I needed respite yet a part of me wanted it to continue forever. "Fuck, fucking FUCK! unhhHHH," the guy in front of me grunted as he erupted inside me, jetting hot spurts of cum into my sloppy wet pussy. I tried to wrap my legs around him, at least his calves, and succeeded briefly, but then the guy behind me started cumming, his hips and pelvis slapping and slamming against my backside so forcefully that my legs lost the slight grip I had managed to establish. I was a fucktoy, two holes for cocks to fill. I found myself wishing I could have a cock in my mouth too but my present position of suspended bondage did not allow for this. I went limp as both of the men withdrew from me, leaving me dangling, dripping semen from my pussy and ass. "Please, turn the... hhH vibrator off... Mistress," I pleaded to Victoria. She was giving a handjob to the third member of pussy team, keeping him ready but she was watching me with a narrowed gaze, as if assessing me, my state - how much more I could take. "If I turn it off, I'll have to lash you instead. Is that what you want?" she asked. The guy Victoria was jerking off spoke up, "Fuck, babe, I like dark haired girls better anyway. Just finish me off... Let me come in your mouth." I saw Victoria calculating, then she apparently decided it was more critical to please the client than to pursue her precise agenda with me, because she dropped her head into the guy's lap and started sucking him, bobbing her head up and down on his penis. He slid back a little and put both his hands on the back of her head, then held her there while he thrust into her mouth. It didn't take long until he started bucking uncontrollably, spewing into her mouth... She finished him properly, sensuously, but when she finally lifted her head from his lap she looked at me with her eyes ablaze. She did not say it, but I knew. She was royally pissed that my plea had shifted the course of events such that it had become necessary for her to give this one guy a blowjob and take his cum in her mouth. She stalked over to her little spot and picked up the tawse and then strutted back to me. She was an image of controlled grace as she loomed directly in front of me with her lips tightly sealed. Then, once again, to my surprise, she kissed me. Once our lips were sealed together, she thrust her toungue into my mouth, and then I understood, as she spilled and spit all of the cum she had saved in her mouth into mine. She grasped my hair behind my head and tilted my head back so that the cum would stay in my mouth. "Swallow it... all," she commanded. I did, then let my head droop forward until my chin nearly touched between my breasts. Still the vibrator buzzed mercilessly against my clit. I started to squirm again, writhing against the never ending stimulation. "Damn, man, they just did a cum swap," I heard someone say. "That is so fucking hot." I heard another say, "Make her eat you out!" I assumed they wanted me to do this to Victoria. ***SMACKKKK*** Victoria circled around behind me. ***SMACKK** *SMAAACKKK*** **SMACKKKKKK!*** I cried out. Victoria returned to stand in front of me, and then I saw her bend down. She stepped out of her black stilettos, and tossed one aside. She brought the other between my legs, and flipped it upside down, then teased the sharp hard point of the heel between my pussy lips. "Nooo... please," I whimpered. "Yes," she said. She began to work the stiletto heel upward into my pussy. The intruding heel felt hard, sharp, painful as it finally found its depth. I squirmed and writhed with 5 inches of Victoria's black stiletto heel buried in my girl parts. Victoria held the shoe in place firmly with one hand, and with the other she started to stroke my face softly. "Come princess... cum for me," she cooed. It was all too much, everything, the pain, the residual heightened sexual craze from the gang fucking, the tormenting delight of the vibrator sending its wicked waves of sexual sensation into my clit and the nerves that drove my body's reactions. I cried out and once again my body spasmed through another tortured climax. At the peak, Victoria started to pump the heel in and out. I lost control, my head spinning. I felt light-headed, like everything was happening far away and as if I wasn't really me. The last thing I remember before darkness claimed me was the hot wet stream of my own urine being released, and running down my legs. ~~~ I woke to the shock of cool water spraying against my body. I scrambled against the marble floor as Victoria hosed me down with one of the flexible shower fixtures I had noticed earlier. I suddenly realized that I was no longer suspended from the halter and rope and that my arms were free. "Stay still! It's not cold. We need to clean you up," Victoria scolded. The men had left the chamber room but I could hear their voices nearby, so I understood that we were not done yet. "They're hitting the bar again," Victoria said. "Get on your hands and knees so I can wash your slutty little cunt and ass. I'm not pleased that you proved so delicate. You are going to have to toughen up." I shifted until I was in the position she commanded and remained so while she sprayed warm water between my legs, washing away the accumulated semen as well as my own secretions and urine. My legs felt weak. I wondered what else I would face before this night was done. "There," Victoria stated. She turned the water off. "At least you're presentable again - you won't drip cum everywhere you go. It seems we will have to let your nether parts rest, but we can still get some good use from your mouth." Victoria folded her arms and tapped one bare foot against the wet marble, watching me. "Thank you Mistress," I said. I think I saw the merest hint of a smile play across Victoria's lips, and then she padded over to her little staging area and grabbed my leash and a good size handbag. It looked like a fancy designer make she had adapted to non-traditional use. She returned to me and clipped the leash to my collar and then tugged lightly. "Come along princess," she said. I was a bit wobbly but I managed to rise to my feet and follow along behind her. She lead me from the chamber room, back out into the main area of the suite. The men were all gathered at the bar talking noisily but when they saw us, me, they went quiet for a moment, and then one of them cheered, "There she is!" The others all joined in the impromptu cheer in one way or another. I looked at each of them in turn, again reading their faces, their eyes, their natures. I saw naked lust, warmth, distanced objectivity, compassion, desire, guilt - no one thing alone in any of them, but a blend of different things in each. I offered a hesitant, tentative smile, then lowered my gaze toward the floor. "Are you guys all *ready* for another round of fun?" Victoria teased seductively. She turned and lead me to what was essentially the living room. Two fabulous sofas and a number of chairs were all arranged around a central open area. The floor was rich hardwood, polished to a brilliant shine. She drew me toward one of the chairs and fell into it gracefully. It was obvious that the floor was my place, so I lowered myself down and assumed the classic kneeling pose, yet reclined such that my backside rested upon my legs. Victoria fussed around in the handbag briefly and then drew out a set of double cuffs linked together with a short chain. These were similar to, or perhaps the very ones she had used on me in the warehouse that night to bind my wrists and ankles together behind my back. She twirled her index finger in an obvious gesture for me to turn away from her such that she could fasten the cuffs to me. I scooted a little until I was facing as she wished, then put my hands behind my back near my ankles, and lowered my head. I felt the familiar bliss of submission begin to well within me as she locked the restraints in place. Each click was a delicious stab into my psyche as control was taken from me and I became helpless. I wondered if there was something wrong with me - some broken part of my spirit that needed - this. My brief reverie was interrupted as I saw Victoria reach her hands in front of my face, holding a black leather wrapped O-ring gag. "Open up princess. Let's fit this in nice and snug," she said. I felt a rush of heat between my legs thinking of myself with this gag in place, and what would likely happen to me through its portal. I opened my mouth and Victoria worked the ring in place, inside my lips, against my teeth, forcing me to keep my mouth open about as wide as was possible. I was already grateful that I would not need to strain to keep my mouth open - the gag would ensure it. Victoria deftly fastened the four thin gag straps(two from each side of the ring) tightly behind my head. At this point, she stood up and moved in front of me, smiled wickedly, and then fluttered her hand toward the guys at the bar. "She's ready for you all!" Victoria announced. I watched the men leave the bar and assume various places around me. Bull dropped into a chair with a resounding thud. One guy vaulted over the back of one of the sofas and landed in his chosen spot. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees, apparently quite anxious for the activities to begin. It was not long until they were all gathered around Victoria and me. Victoria slipped her arms beneath my arms and more or less pulled me along the floor until I was center stage, and then she stood straight and began to stroke my cheek with one of her hands. "Who's up first?" she asked. For the next two hours the men took turns fucking my mouth through the ring gag. For me, after a little while, everything became a blur of cocks and spurting cum. I struggled to breathe when I did not have a cock jammed down my throat. I swallowed load after load of hot semen. Some of the men ejaculated deep in my throat while others withdrew and finished themselves by jerking off and spraying hot sticky cum both through the gag into my mouth and onto my face. Finally, they were sated, and I was sure that my appearance was now less than desirable with milky cum splattered all over my face and in my hair. Victoria addressed the men, "I think she must be thirsty... don't you agree?" My shoulders slumped and I sighed softly. I knew where this would lead. "Hell yeah," said one of the guys. "Give her a cold beer - she deserves it." "That's not quite what I had in mind, but you have the color right..." Victoria stated in her sexy "fuck me" voice. "I need two of you to come hold her." I felt strong male hands come against my shoulders, and one braced behind my head. "Hold her steady. Don't let her move. Grab her hair with your hand and tilt her head back," Victoria directed. Victoria moved over me and squatted, bringing her pussy to within an inch or two of my ring gag gaped mouth. As she had done before, but just a little differently, she spread her pussy lips with two black painted fingernails and then she released a forceful stream of hot urine into my mouth. She stopped. "Swallow princess," she commanded. Tears welled in my eyes as I swallowed Victoria's bitter piss. She released again, jetting more urine into my mouth, then stopped. "Drink it all down." I gagged a little but swallowed. "Good girl." She released again, this time filling my mouth to overflowing before she stopped. I gagged, and choked, spewing the urine from my mouth. *** SLAP!!! *** She struck my face with her open hand. "I'm not finished yet," she said coldly. "This time don't spill it. This isn't some fantasy life... You put yourself in this position. Learn how to be what you are now. Do it right." She peed into my mouth again, but not quite as much as she had done just previously. I managed to swallow it all. "OK, she's had enough." I recognized Bull as the speaker. "Let her go now," he continued. "Joe, get the keys and unlock her cuffs and take the gag off, and get her a towel so she can clean herself up some." "It's your turn now," Bull said to Victoria. "I want YOUR ass and then we can say this party is over. We'll give you two glowing praise and a solid tip." ~~~ The next morning when I woke in my bed, in my room, stiff and sore and still smelling of sex, I lay there for a little while replaying the image in my mind of Victoria bent over the arm of one of the sofas being ass-fucked so hard by Bull that her body surged and shook with every thrust. She never said another word after that; not when the men departed nor as we both gathered ourselves and then slipped from the suite to return to our respective apartments. Ragdoll Ch. 06 I lay still and quiet, pensive, studying the way the morning light cast a golden glow upon Tiffany's wavy blonde locks. Her hair was down, free and natural, mussed from sleep and midnight passions. "Updo girl," I mused, remembering how I had first come to think of her. I smiled. Now she was just Tif, and we were lovers. I snuggled in more closely against her. We were both naked and I lay with my face against her neck. It was one week after the gang bang assignment with Victoria. Tiffany had returned a day after that night. I had told her everything. We had spent the past week in relative seclusion with each other, spending the nights together in her room. We had been given "time off" to recover from our activities. I think that Tif probably had more fun frolicking around the Caribbean than I had experienced at Victoria's beck and call. I had kept my directed appointment at the medical facility downstairs, and I now sported a sexy new tongue stud. Just as Brentwood had said, there was little recovery time after the procedure. I was adjusting to the feel of it. My speech was still a little affected, but I would soon overcome that. Its presence would soon be a trifle, more normal than not. Tif certainly enjoyed it last night when my face was buried between her thighs. She had said afterward that the feel of me flicking the stud against her clit, coupled with the image of me that she played in her mind while I licked her, drove her wild. Apparently it was a "hot button" for her. I once again wore my intimate chain, connected between the piercing in my navel and in my clit hood. My clue that Tif was awake too was an affectionate whisper from her as she slid one hand down to rest it upon my hip. "Hey you," she said. "Mmm..." I murmured. "We need to find Victoria's weakness. Everyone has one, or more than one," she said. "Victoria's secret, I wonder what it is," I said. We both laughed softly. "But, yes, I agree, though we have to be very careful. I don't want to risk Jos, or you," I said. Tif spoke again. "What about the Masquerade, and Brentwood? You said that she said not to choose me over her publicly. I think she probably meant something like refusing her something openly with others present, especially if it involves me. Inviting me instead of her might not violate her rules... Fuck, I hate this Vi. I wish I could fix it, but I can't think of a way without risking your migration partner," she said. "I know," I whispered, playing my fingers against her stomach. I started to slide my hand lower, but paused, sensing that the mood might not be right. "And what the hell is it with her peeing on you or peeing in your mouth. Do you think it's a fetish she has, or is she doing it just to humiliate you?" Tif asked. "A little of both I think," I replied. "But you like a lot of what she does, don't you?" Tif coaxed. "Yes, you know I do. I don't know why - it's just how I am, but I don't care about her. I care about you, a lot..." I said. Tif hugged me. "I care about you a lot too. Maybe we have a future together after this is all over - when our debt is paid, I mean," she said. I replied, "I think I would like that very much. We have about ten years to get through before then though..." We kissed. "I smell... pussy," Tif said. "Sorry," I said. "I..." "Don't be," she whispered. "It's fucking hot." We kissed more deeply and Tif suckled my tongue. "I love that stud. Remind me to send a thank you note to Brentwood," Tif teased. "And we both smell like pussy," she cooed softly. "Let's shower then, and maybe get something to eat. No pun intended!" I said, kissing the tip of her nose. "Sounds good," Tif said enthusiastically. She slipped from bed, pulling me playfully along behind her. "What's mine is yours, as long as you're mine," she said, turning her head to glance at me with her expressive green eyes. "I'm yours," I said. "No matter what else happens or who it happens with... I just hope that you are strong enough to keep wanting me." The shower was awesome. One thing that could be said for our apartment building was that it offered excellent water pressure, and a seemingly endless volume of hot water. We soaped each other and rinsed, playing our hands over each other's bodies. Shampooing each other's hair was next, with a few shoulder kisses added for affection. One thing lead to another and I soon found myself backed up against one wall of the shower with three of Tif's fingers pushed up inside my pussy. Her thumb danced delightfully over my clit. I was squirming, and rocking my hips against her efforts. She took control - the way she knew I liked it, and she pinned me firmly between her and the shower wall. Tif was about four inches taller than me, stronger and more voluptuous. I was the lithe dancer and she was the leggy bombshell. She began to truly ravish me. Her fingers and thumb were relentless in and against my sex, bringing me roughly to a hard sharp climax. I whimpered and clung with my arms around her neck as my pussy clenched on her fingers again and again, until I went limp against her. "That's my girl," she murmured. "I like it when you cum for me." I hugged her a little more tightly. "Thank you," I whispered. Along with a toothbrush, I had stashed some clean panties and a few basic items of clothing in Tif's room. Most of the time I did not wear wear a bra unless for something formal or when the bra itself was my outer wear. For outer wear, I usually opted for a bralette. We talked while we dressed. "Victoria has her little clique, and connections spread throughout Chalis; otherwise, she wouldn't know what she knows and she wouldn't be able to make the threats she makes. We need to learn her network - who she deals with, and whether they are allies or pawns in her game. As the saying goes, knowledge is power," she said. What do you think?" Tif asked. I replied, "I think that we can't let her suspect anything. It will take time, and we will need to be consummate actresses in order to outsmart her. Either that, or we will need to get really lucky..." Tif's NetDisplay started beeping. She went over and tapped the screen and started reading. Once I finished pulling up my exercise shorts, I padded up beside her and peered at the screen too. "Brentwood is calling a meeting of all girls on premises - in the cafeteria, thirty minutes from now," Tif summarized aloud. "I wonder what it's about," I said. "We'll find out soon enough," Tif replied. "Let's head there now and beat the rush!" "Race you!" I said, grinning. ~~~ Violet and Tiffany came bounding down the stairs toward the cafeteria with Violet in the lead by just a few steps. For a brief moment they were just two young women caught up in a moment, engaged in a playful competition. They were excited and happy together. Tif caught Violet just as they both reached the back of the line inside the cafeteria. There were only a few girls ahead of them. Violet grabbed a tray and lifted it over her head and pranced. "I win!" she said. "Ok, you win," Tif laughed softly. "What prize do you want?" "Mmm... just you," Violet said, conveying more with her light gray eyes than with the simple words. "Done," replied Tif. "Good," said Violet, blushing slightly before turning back to the serving line. Soon enough the cafeteria had filled and roughly a hundred girls were scattered around at the different tables, engaged in eating their breakfasts, talking, whispering, eyeing each other. A few were quiet, but most chatted animatedly amongst themselves. The main topic seemed to be guessing the reason for the gathering. It was easy enough to see some of the more obvious cliques and circles among the girls. Tif nudged Violet with her elbow. "Remember, observe everything, especially relative to you know who." Tif shifted her eyes pointedly in the direction where Victoria sat with Chelsea and Melissa, and a few other girls whom Violet did not recognize. Violet glanced surreptitiously over in the direction Tif was indicating. She saw a very pretty black girl sitting at the table with Victoria and her crew, but the girl seemed a little withdrawn, not part of Victoria's clique, at least not yet. Just then, Victoria glanced toward Violet and their gazes locked. Victoria made a kiss gesture to Violet with her lips and smirked, then turned back to her inner circle. The black girl must have noticed Victoria's action because she turned her head to look toward Violet and Tif. Violet noticed the other girl's eyes then, for they had been genetically and surgically altered to look like a cat's eyes. Violet wondered whether the girl had undergone any other modifications to make her more feline in appearance. There was a stir near the cafeteria main doors accompanied by a sudden anticipatory quiet, and then Director Brentwood made his entrance. He was accompanied by a very sophisticated, elegant looking woman. She appeared to be about his age; in her early to middle forties, and she was dressed professionally in a woman's business suit and fabulous, very expensive looking black heels. Her hair was the natural color of gray that some people gained early and which gave an air of wisdom and sophistication to the person, especially in conjunction with their otherwise still quite vital appearance. Brentwood and the woman moved to a central point in the cafeteria and turned to each other, conferring quietly for a moment, and then Brentwood turned to address the gathering. Tiffany and Violet were, luckily, or unluckily, sitting directly to the left of Brentwood, with noone between the Director and themselves. Violet edged a little closer to Tif, leaning against her, as the more passive partner in a relationship is wont to do. "Good morning girls," Brentwood began. "I have a few announcements to make. Most of you will like most of them," he said. He actually smiled with genuine warmth as he looked around the room. There were various responses from around the cafeteria as some of the girls replied to Brentwood's greeting. Violet and Tiffany both chimed in, "Good morning Director Brentwood." Brentwood turned toward Violet and Tiffany and allowed his gaze to linger there for a moment, as if assessing something. He nodded to the pair and then looked back to the general gathering. He began speaking. "First, for those of you who do not yet know her, I would like to introduce Dr. Ahlgren. She does not step out in public often, but she knows every one of you better than you know yourselves. Dr. Ahlgren is our chief Psychologist here at Chalis, and she personally makes the final decisions on each applicant or pair of applicants regarding acceptance into our programs. Each of you is subject to periodic interviews with Dr. Ahlgren to assess your mental and emotional states. You will cooperate, and obey her directions as you would my own," he stated. Brentwood continued speaking. "Next, as you know, our annual Masquerade event is nearing. This year's theme is 'Saints and Sinners' and the main party will begin at Club Gothic. I will be posting a sign-up list in the Main Hall, here in your building, for all of you to access. The usual crop of CEOs, executives, and media stars, as well as a few foreign dignitaries will be attending. I expect to see one or two of your names filled in next to each person on the guest list by seven days from now. I have indicated the preferred number of girls by each name based on known client preferences. Don't disappoint me. Work it out amongst yourselves. For the first two days, only the senior girls, those here for longer than five years, may sign up. After that time, the list is open to all. I am exercising my executive privelege of choosing who will accompany me personally to the Masquerade. This year, I will be attended by Violet, and... Tiffany," he said. There was a slight buzz among some of the girls but it ended quickly. Brentwood made this choice even though he had originally given Violet the opportunity to decide which other girl would join them. He preferred real passion and desire between two girls when engaged in group sex with them. He felt that reality offered a far more enriching experience than when the girls were simply putting on an act. It was clear by the body language between the pair that they were lovers. Violet looked first at Tiffany, and smiled, but then she glanced worriedly toward Victoria. Victoria's expression was very dark and brooding. She did not look at Violet, but rather leaned to whisper something in Chelsea's ear. Chelsea in turn looked at Violet and smirked wickedly, then shifted her attention back to Brentwood, who had begun speaking again. "Not long after the Masquerade - the exact date is not yet set, we will be having our quarterly Ops weekend. I know that this event is popular with some of you as it is an opportunity to reacquaint briefly with your migration partner, if that is something you wish to do. Otherwise, our Ops boys build up a lot of excess sexual energy, with little outlet. We enforce a very strict training regimen. Those boys need some pussy now and again, and it's up to you all to provide it," he said. Brentwood paused while some mostly warm and understanding laughter ensued among the girls. Brentwood raised a hand and continued speaking. "Finally, I want to remind you all of the constant evaluation and monitoring of performance we maintain on each of you, and that good performance and financial results will be recognized. We will also be shuffling room assignments somewhat in the near future. If some of you want joint rooms, and your performance warrants the reward, we will make that happen. That is all," he finished. Brentwood spoke softly to Dr. Ahlgren briefly and then both of them turned and made their way from the cafeteria. Tiffany and Violet attempted to make a discreet quick exit by blending into the crowd of girls who were now leaving the cafeteria, but they were unsuccessful. Violet felt a hand clasp upon her arm, and turned to see Chelsea restraining her. Victoria passed by Tiffany and whispered in Tiffany's ear, "I'm going to take her away from you, or ruin her, or both..." Violet saw anger flare in Tif's expression, though Violet had not heard what Victoria had whispered. Violet shook her head slightly, communicating to Tif that it was ok, to "let it go". They both knew that this would happen, and that it was something that they would need to work hard to overcome. Tiffany looked at Violet and the pair exchanged silent communication. After a moment, Tif turned and joined in with the overall exodus from the cafeteria, leaving Violet once again in the clutches of Victoria and her crew. "Let's all go play in my room," Victoria said wickedly. "Melissa, you're not needed this time, but, Niobe, you are." Violet turned to see the black girl with cat's eyes assessing her. "I like to play," Niobe replied. Niobe's voice was sultry, deeply feminine, and somehow affected such that she sounded like she was purring each word forth as she spoke it. Violet felt an anticipatory rush of heat and moisture begin between her legs as the foursome made their way upstairs toward Victoria's room, and hated herself for it, every step of the way. Ragdoll Ch. 07 "Strip princess," Victoria commanded Violet. For the moment, Chelsea and Niobe lounged in sumptuous chairs and watched the scene play before them. It was a short time after the end of Brentwood's impromptu meeting, and the four girls were closeted away in Victoria's room. Victoria's tone was icy, yet laced with a dark sensuality. She was in a mood to play, and to continue her campaign of domination, seduction, and perhaps ruin against Violet. The path was not yet set - it would depend somewhat upon Violet herself. Victoria had lost her favored status with Brentwood. She was no longer the center of attention for most things. She hated losing, especially to a gentle submissive like Violet who did nothing to earn the attention she received, except be who she was. Victoria understood Violet's allure and appreciated the way a dominant and a submissive complemented each other, but she saw herself as more than Violet. Victoria was the queen bee, and she would either own Violet willingly, or she would continue to torment Violet until Violet became an emotional wreck, a debased lost ruined waif with few friends and a broken spirit. Violet would then be just another haunted soul, fucking her life away until she was finally released from her service to Chalis. Victoria could live with either outcome. Violet's eyes shifted from Victoria to Chelsea and then to Niobe. Violet began to disrobe, bending down, first, to untie her workout shoes. "Actually, leave those on. You may need the traction, but take everything else off," Victoria directed. Victoria glanced at the others as she herself began to disrobe. Chelsea and Niobe slipped from their chairs and followed suit. Soon, all four girls were naked except for their respective few personal adornments and jewelry. Violet was the only one of the four with a totally bare pussy. Other than the shoes Victoria had ordered Violet not to remove, she wore only her intimate chain and tongue stud. The top bead of her tongue stud looked like a small white pearl. Victoria, as usual, wore her pubic hair in a thin dark stripe above her sex. She wore no stud in her belly button today, but her golden nipple studs were displayed proudly, light glinting from them as her motions caused her breasts to sway and jounce gently. Chelsea was a true brunette with a natural pattern to her light brown pubic hair, but she kept it trimmed quite short. Chelsea ran her hand between her legs once and smirked at Violet. "I've been waiting to have you lick me you little bitch. I'm going to enjoy this... a lot," she said. Niobe's "fur" was groomed into a heart shaped pattern above her chocolate cunt. She also had six small nipples tattooed in pairs along her abdomen below her full jutting breasts. These were cosmetic alterations she had chosen to contribute to the feline appearance she desired. Niobe's form was nubile and lush. Her body practically screamed of sex and feminine allure. She was made for fucking, pure and simple. Violet fidgeted with her hands, waiting for what would come. "Kneel down," Victoria directed Violet. Violet knelt, her shoulders drooping a little. Victoria padded over to her Netdesk and pulled something from one of its drawers, and then she glanced over her shoulder and spoke to Chelsea. "Hey babe, can you get one of our vibrators, and a zip tie? They're in the vanity I think," she said. "Yeah, sure," Chelsea replied, and strutted off to the next room. Niobe watched but remained silent for the moment, her cat's eyes partially lidded. Victoria fitted herself with the strapon cock she had taken from the Netdesk drawer, and cinched it tightly around her hips and between her thighs. The center strap applied delightful pressure to her clit, and she couldn't wait to get things started. The artificial penis was about eight inches in length and slightly thicker than a normal human male sex organ, but not overly so. The straps were black leather while the silicone cock itself was a translucent pale blue. Victoria turned to Violet. "Hands behind your back. You know the drill," she said. Chelsea had returned and now she crouched down behind Violet. Chelsea looped the zip tie around Violet's wrists and drew it tight. The tie hurt, and Violet knew that she would end up with a thin red line and bruises on her wrists when this was done. Victoria came to stand directly in front of Violet and tilted Violet's chin upward with her fingertip. While looking downward into Violet's eyes, she spoke to Niobe and Chelsea, "You two lay back on either side of her. I'm going to have her take turns licking you both while I fuck her in the ass with our little blue friend here. Chelsea, have the vibrator ready for when we need it." Victoria flicked the head of the strapon cock with one of her black painted fingernails and then spoke to Violet, "I'm going to give you one chance to suck on this and to get it as wet as you can. It's the only lubricant you are going to get. I'm going to keep fucking you until Chelsea and Niobe are satisfied, so for your sake, I hope that you are a really good little pussy licker." Violet communicated her understanding simply by looking at Victoria with her expressive gray eyes while Victoria reached behind Violet's head and gathered her silky straight fine white hair into a tight fist. Victoria drew Violet toward the translucent blue cock jutting from betwixt her thighs. Violet opened her lips and accepted the strapon penis into her mouth, allowing Victoria to control the depth of insertion. Violet had little choice really. She suckled and worked as much of her saliva onto the silicone shaft as she could, knowing what would soon follow. Victoria thrust once, deep, forcing Violet to gag, and then withdrew from her mouth. "Good girl," Victoria said. "Now turn. Scoot on your knees... toward Chelsea. You're going to do her first." Violet shimmied as best she could until she was pointed toward Chelsea. Violet was nearly helpless with her hands zip-tied behind her back - that was pretty much the point. Victoria grabbed a handful of Violet's hair again and then pushed Violet forward and down, lowering her between Chelsea's splayed legs. Victoria smacked Violet's ass. "Ass up, face down," Victoria said. Chelsea shifted a little and snaked her own fingers into Violet's hair, and then pulled Violet's face firmly between her thighs such that Violet's mouth and small round nose were buried in Chelsea's glistening cunt. Chelsea leaned back until she was flat on the carpet. With one hand on each side of Violet's head, fingers laced into her hair, Chelsea started to slowly fuck Violet's face. Victoria knelt down behind Violet and rested her left hand on Violet's lower back. Victoria caressed Violet's silky soft skin, playing her sculpted black painted fingernails lightly along Violet's flesh. "I can make it nice for you if you give yourself to me... You need me," Victoria cooed. Using her right hand, Victoria guided the tip of the spit slick blue strapon cock directly against Violet's little puckered knot. Slowly Victoria pushed it inward, coaxing Violet's delicate rim to open. Victoria drew back a little, and then pushed inward again. On the third try, Violet's ring relaxed open just enough for the first inch of the cock to slide inside. Victoria paused, repositioning her hands so that she held Violet's hips, and then with no further restraint, she rammed the eight inch blue cock fully into the depths of Violet's tender ass. Violet whimpered into Chelsea's cunt as the strapon was thrust hard and deep inside Violet's ass. The pain was sharp at first, but then slowly faded to a dull throbbing ache and a sensation of impossible fullness. Violet had little choice other than to do precisely what was expected of her. She relaxed herself as best she could to accept the ass fucking from Victoria while she began to nuzzle and gently lick Chelsea's pussy. Violet's face was already smeared with Chelsea's wetness. When Violet had a chance to breathe, all she could scent was pussy and the slightest hint of urine. Violet was aroused - it was impossible for her not to be. Being dominated and controlled and used by others touched a chord deep in her spirit. While she felt most profoundly female and complete physically when being fucked by a male, with her legs locked around him while he pounded into her relentlessly and then spent himself inside her, female heat still aroused her greatly. She felt an emotional connection with other females, while with a male it was the biological need to be fucked that drove her. Victoria began a slow rhythm, fucking Violet's butthole with the strapon. There was no urgency as there would be if a male were fucking Violet with a real penis, seeking his own release. The motions provided a pleasing stimulation to Victoria's clit but it was not sufficient to bring her to a climax - it merely sustained a modest level of sexual arousal for her. More gratifying to Victoria was the experience of exercising dominance and control, and the invasive "taking" of Violet in her most vulnerable place. Chelsea had eased her grip in Violet's hair somewhat and had started to arch her hips upward against Violet's attentions. Violet flicked her tongue lightly over Chelsea's labia and then her clit. Violet settled into a pattern of fluttering her tongue and then stroking it slowly along Chelsea's clit, applying pressure with her tongue stud, quite exquisitely judging by Chelsea's reactions when Violet did so. Niobe purred in her exotic voice, "This is... hot. That little bitch can lick some pussy." Niobe began to slowly caress herself, fondling her own breasts and pinching her dark nipples, occasionally sliding a hand down between her thighs to stroke herself. "I'm glad you approve," Victoria said softly, her voice tinged with growing lust. Violet pressed her lips to Chelsea's clit and suckled the super sensitive little button of flesh into her mouth. Violet rolled her tongue against the suckled flesh, again, and again, and again. Suddenly Chelsea tightened her grasp in Violet's hair and pulled her fiercely against her pussy. Chelsea arched upward and started bucking, cumming against Violet's face. "Fuck... fuck... nhHhH," Chelsea cried out as she came hard, her body arching and quivering, her toes curled. "Fuck..." she said finally as her body eased back against the carpet. Her hips rose in one final twitch of sexual delight and then she released Violet's hair. After a moment, Chelsea lifted her head. "Can we keep her?" she said in a voice still laced with sexual intent. "Mmm..." Victoria murmured, not really giving an answer. "Alright princess. Now it's time to play with kitty," Victoria said. Niobe spoke up, "Actually, I would like a go at her full on, one on one, with no restraints and no strapon up her ass". Niobe slipped forward from where she had been lounging on the floor opposite Chelsea, half-heartedly masturbating while watching the other three girls engaged with each other. Niobe reached with her right hand, fingers spread claw-like, and pressed her nails against the delicate flesh of Violet's neck, and then she slowly raked her nails all the way down Violet's back to just shy of her ass which was still jammed full of silicone cock. "What the hell!" Chelsea exclaimed as she noticed Niobe's "claws". "Those are awesome. You really went full in for the feline mods during your migration, didn't you?" she asked. "Indeed," Niobe purred. "How did they do it?" Chelsea asked. "The normal nails were removed, and then they fused titanium claws to the ends of the bone in each of my fingers and thumbs. I can paint them any color, just like normal fingernails. I usually go with brown or black though. I'm glad you like." Niobe made a mock clawing gesture toward Chelsea and laughed softly. "I didn't have them do my toes though. Those are normal," Niobe finished. "You two are spoiling the mood, and my plans!" Victoria huffed indignantly, but it was more an act than how she truly felt. "But, Ok, we'll take a little break before resuming," she said. Victoria gave Violet one more full hard thrust with the strapon and then slowly withdrew it from Violet's sore gaped rectum. "Go ahead and cut the tie Chels," Victoria said to Chelsea. Victoria removed the strapon, and then turned and addressed Violet, "Go on into the bathroom and clean up. Oh, and take this with you. Clean it up too. We may not done with it yet." Victoria tossed the soiled strapon into Violet's lap as Chelsea snipped the zip-tie. Violet sighed softly as she rose to her feet. "Yes Mistress," she said quietly, and then turned and padded off into Victoria's bathroom. Ragdoll Ch. 08 ************************ Brentwood's private quarters were both sumptuous and stately, yet fittingly masculine - elaborate beyond anything Violet was accustomed to. Tonight was the first time that Brentwood had taken Violet here; doubly so. A small antique clock with a lighted face cast a pale blue glow across the otherwise darkened bedroom. Violet had noted the time, just after midnight, perhaps a half hour past. At present however, she was focused on other things. Brentwood's bed was beyond luxurious, and Violet felt somewhat like a princess in a fairy tale, surrounded by plush softness. She lay on her back with her lithe legs drawn up at the knees, her slender calves resting against Brentwood's hips as he thrust into her with growing urgency. She murmured soft plaintive mewling sounds of feminine pleasure in rhythm with each of his demanding thrusts. Violet was not near a peak herself in this instance - she cried her needful sounds more for Brentwood's pleasure than for her own. Nevertheless, she was very much enjoying being fucked on a psychological level, even without being coaxed to her own orgasm. As time passed, Violet had come to realize that she felt most deeply satisfied, and profoundly female, when engaged in sex with a male whom she found attractive in some regard. She found Brentwood attractive despite his steely demeanor and his near complete aversion to showing affection. He seemed different though, in some way, tonight, and this surprised her. As Brentwood surged, and Violet sensed that the moment was close for him, she curled her toes and crossed her ankles behind his buttocks, while gently pressing her manicured fingernails into the flesh of his lower back. "Cum in me," she whispered to him. "I want it. Please. I mean it." Brentwood raised his head, his eyes searching for Violet's gaze in the near darkness. He looked into her eyes for a moment and then he crushed his mouth to hers and kissed her with heated passion. He felt her stud as their tongues warred against each other. His body became taut. He drew back, broke the kiss, and then arched into her powerfully, thrusting himself into her depths with complete abandon, again, and again, and again. She was like a ragdoll beneath him. His release was whole body, deep, and intense. He felt like he was pouring part of himself into Violet with each jet of ejaculate he pumped into her soft clutching depths. After a brief time, Violet relaxed her legs from around Brentwood, splaying them amid the bedcovers. She began to stroke Brentwood's back gently, not saying anything, just basking in post coital intimacy. Brentwood was still inside her but he was receding, and she knew from experience that he would soon either withdraw, or slip free from her. Brentwood raised his head and studied Violet again. "This may well become a frequent thing," he said. "Mmm," was all that Violet murmured in reply. Violet's silky soft perfectly straight white hair was longer now and she could finally present herself with the white tressed Egyptian princess look she had chosen as her signature style. Blunt bangs were cut straight just a little above her milky white brows, while the bulk of her hair fell down her back to between her shoulder blades. Brentwood watched Violet for another moment and then he withdrew himself from her and rolled onto his back beside where she lay. He worked his pillow briefly and then drew the covers up and closed his eyes. Violet lay still, next to Brentwood, feeling his semen begin to seep between her legs. She had come to consider having male fluids in, on, or slowly leaking from her vagina as somewhat of a badge of honor and an affirmation of her belonging to the greater collective of women worldwide. In the morning she would wake with dried cum caked on her labia and her inner thighs, but this was now a familiar thing, and given that Violet had no pubic hair, a little time in the shower would quickly restore her to a soft clean pink, ready to receive once again. Violet had actually slept until early afternoon on the previous day, and now, as Brentwood's breathing pattern shifted and he slipped into sleep, Violet sighed, knowing that it would be a while yet until sleep claimed her. She lay quietly and began to reflect upon events of the past several weeks... Violet's thoughts drifted back to the afternoon in Victoria's room with Victoria, Chelsea, and Niobe. ~~~ Violet was prone, on her back, on the floor in the center of Victoria's room. Chelsea was on Violet's right side and Victoria was on Violet's left. The two girls lay on their sides with both of their legs wrapped around one of Violet's legs, spreading her thighs apart. They each held one of Violet's arms tightly above her head with both of their hands. Violet was effectively pinned and grappled and unable to move. Niobe knelt between Violet's splayed thighs like a dark goddess. For over two hours Niobe played a sensual game of cat and mouse with Violet. Niobe would nudge and flick and gently scritch her very sharp black painted cat claw fingernail against Violet's glistening clit, teasing Violet ever so close to orgasm, and then she would stop and engage in idle conversation with Victoria and Chelsea as if Violet was not even present. After a time, Niobe would resume the stimulus. Violet would reach a point where her whole body was straining to arch against Niobe's touch, striving to gain that tiny additional pressure she needed to take her over the edge, but the three girls tormenting Violet were expert and kept her just on the brink. Near the end, Violet began to plead pitifully with them to let her cum. Niobe took the vibrator which Chelsea had placed beside Niobe before they started this session with Violet, and twisted it on. Violet was crying with the need to cum. Niobe positioned the tip of the vibrator at the entrance to Violet's bare pussy and then shoved it in. At the same time, Niobe pressed the pad of her thumb against Violet's clit and rubbed hard and fast. Less than ten seconds later, Violet screamed and started to thrash, cumming violently around the vibrator and against Niobe's hand. As it turned out, now, Niobe had more or less replaced Melissa in Victoria's inner circle. Tiffany had extended some gestures toward Melissa, to befriend her, and there might be something there, but it was tenuous at present. The hope was that Melissa might be able to help provide information about Victoria's connections. The threat to Jos was an ever present worry, and kept Violet firmly in Victoria's thrall whenever Violet was not with Brentwood or on an official assignment for Chalis. Violet's time with Tiffany was limited even though the pair slept together in one or the other of their rooms whenever their schedules permitted. Most often they were actually sleeping, and not engaged in sex. They had applied for a joint room, but nothing had happened yet in that regard. ~~~ Violet's thoughts shifted to one of her more recent assignments... ~~~ She had come into the mock executive boardroom at one of Chalis Estate's many themed clubs dressed like a Japanese schoolgirl. She wore matching white bra and panties beneath a plaid skirt and white blouse. She wore a pair of honeydew colored knee-socks, but no shoes. Her only makeup was a very pale pink lipstick, and heavy white eyeliner and eyeshadow. Matching white pearl studs adorned one of the upper piercings in both of her ears. She padded demurely into the room with her head down, closed the door behind her, and then waited in silence. After a time, the ten Japanese men who were engaged in animated discussion around a stately central conference table quieted, and, almost as one, they turned toward Violet. One of them spoke enough English to direct Violet to come forward and to climb up onto the table and to lay down, on her back. The men began to fondle and touch Violet, focusing on her more intimate places. After a brief time her blouse had been unbuttoned and her bra had been pulled up to expose her breasts, yet it was still fastened behind her back. Her panties were pulled completely off. One of the men pressed them to his nose and breathed in deeply. Both laughter and envy ensued. The men continued to prod and poke and pinch Violet until one of them spoke a single word. Upon the one man's utterance, Violet's wrists and arms and ankles and calves were grappled and drawn by multiple men's hands toward the four corners of the hardwood conference table. In less than a minute she was cuffed and bound by wrists and ankles, tied to the four corner posts of the table. The men left enough slack that Violet could draw her legs up somewhat, or rather more so that the men could force her legs apart and fuck her to their satisfaction. There was a hierarchy among the men which dictated the order in which they would fuck Violet - highest executive rank would go first. Violet lost track of time as the ten Japanese men fucked her, each in turn. Most were rough and rapid with their thrusting. It was almost as if the men were engaged in a contest to see who was the best "fucker" and if they could make her cum while they fucked her. Half of the men had finished and already Violet felt quite raw. Her inner and outer thighs were bruised though it did not yet show visibly. Her nipples were numb and her pussy throbbed, but the efforts of the men would not lead to her cumming. Viscous milky semen from five men oozed from her sex and pooled on the surface of the table beneath her ass cheeks, but this was apparently not an issue for the men. The copious amount of cum seemed to excite them. The gang bang continued... In the end, the men untied Violet and bowed to her, each in turn, and thanked her. She knew this by their manner and because two of them spoke in English. When the men were dressed and had departed, a female attendant who had been standing by outside slipped into the room and helped Violet gather herself, and then assisted Violet in making her way to a nearby medical treatment room. ~~~ Violet lifted her head and glanced at Brentwood's clock. The time was 0200. Her thoughts drifted again, this time to her first evaluation session with Dr. Ahlgren, Chalis' chief Psychologist and premiere executive fashionista. ~~~ The session had been underway for about twenty minutes. Most of the interview had been accomplished thus far by means of engaging dialog. Violet realized quickly that she liked Dr. Ahlgren. Dr. Ahlgren smiled and spoke again, "Ok, this next part will be a series of clipped questions, posed to you in fairly rapid succession. I need you to answer quickly without spending too much time thinking about your answers. We have found that this method yields the most true responses and provides us with the most accurate assessment of the person we are evaluating. We record this part of the interview." Violet nodded and smiled. "Alright," she said. "Good. Let's begin then," Dr. Ahlgren said. "Two clients. A man and a woman. You don't know them, and after your session with them, you won't see them again. Which do you choose? Him, or her?" Ahlgren asked. "Him," Violet replied. "Two men, two women, or a man and a woman?" Ahlgren asked. "A man and a woman," Violet replied. "Anal sex. Always a chore, or sometimes enjoyable?" Ahlgren asked. "Sometimes enjoyable," Violet replied. "Black or white?" Ahlgren asked. "Both," Violet replied. Dr. Ahlgren laughed, "Alright, I'll give you that one." "Suck a penis or lick a vagina?" Ahlgren asked. "Suck a penis," Violet replied. "Spit or swallow?" Ahlgren asked. "Swallow, if I like him at all," Violet replied. "One day you are free of service to us. What relationship do you seek?" Ahlgren asked. "A man and a woman," Violet replied. "Would you revert your gender if you could?" Ahlgren asked. "No, never, please. I could not bear it," Violet replied. "Heels or flats?" Ahlgren asked. "Heels," Violet replied. "To a degree, you like to be humiliated, used, even have moderate pain inflicted upon you?" Ahlgren asked. "Yes," Violet replied. "You revel in submission?" Ahlgren asked. "Yes," Violet replied. "Would you ever consider becoming impregnated by a client, as a fetish, knowing that the child would receive an excellent upbringing with no involvement by you?" Ahlgren asked. "Maybe," Violet replied. "Breast enlargement?" Ahlgren asked. "I prefer them as they are," Violet replied. "Would you, could you, kill someone whom you knew to be wicked?" Ahlgren asked. "Yes," Violet replied. "I think we are done here, for today. I have very much enjoyed our time together Violet," Dr. Ahlgren said. ~~~ Violet lifted her head and glanced at Brentwood's clock again. The time read 0300. She turned on her side and snuggled against Brentwood. She began to replay the Saints & Sinners Masquerade in her mind... By 0330, she slept, finally. ************************ Ragdoll Ch. 09 I am nearly pinned upon my back beneath the Demon Bitch. I claw and scrape and kick, seeking desperately to scurry back, to avoid and to escape the sinuous tail that darts and plunges against my robes, between my legs. It snakes and thrashes, guided by the wicked intent of its owner, seeking to pierce the core of me. She seeks to defile me, to make me what she is. This is the way of the scourge. It compels them beyond all other drives. A cat sized black widow spider jumps from the Demon's shoulder, pouncing upon my thigh. It skitters its way quickly until it looms hideous and obscene between my breasts, hissing at me and clicking its mandibles threateningly. The Bitch is silent, deadly, eyes blazing amber gold as she leers at me. I see the vestige of Victoria in this fallen creature and I want to scream. For a moment, time seems frozen. My thoughts shift backward to the morn of this day. * * * A wind too hot for the dawn of autumn swirls around the convent courtyard. Dry brown leaves cavort against worn cobblestones. The sound is like a death rattle. A statue of la Pucelle stands vigilant nearby. There are four of us gathered together in the morning shadows. Divine Mother speaks to us in soft tones, her voice trembling just a little, seemingly with age. She is serenity and grace, and I wish that one day I might be like her. Her countenance is veiled within the cowl of her pearl white robe. I have never seen her face. Tiffany stands close beside me, to my right. Jos is a pillar of strength and resolve poised protectively to my left. Mother tells us that the veil is always thin at this time of year, but that at twenty year intervals, the veil becomes so fragile that it is possible to cross between planes of existence. I slip my hand into Tiffany's hand as Mother explains that the veil separates creation, life, and joy from destruction, death, and despair. We three are here in this place, at this time, because we must do something vital, and, should we fail, a scourge which comes will unleash a campaign of lust and vile depravity upon us all. Spirits will cross the veil but even the worst of these can do little to harm the living. It is the Demon Lords and Bitches who will wreak havoc upon us, corrupting the flesh and souls of mortals in order to swell their ranks. Those who are innocent, mostly children, are simply consumed, their souls ripped from their mortal shells and fed upon, erased from existence. This is an abomination against the creator. We are to bring a ward which has been kept hidden to a place of refuge across the city. This is where the children are gathered. The ward will save them at least. Mother hands a small wooden box to me. I release Tiffany's hand and accept the box from Mother. I feel reverence but also fear. It is a simple thing with a few vague carvings cut into its surface. Mother extends her hands and places her fingers at specific locations around the box. Her touch is light and she applies no pressure. I still cannot see her visage. She asks me if I see the pattern. When I nod, she drops her hands, but leans close to me and whispers that I will know when the time is come to open the box, but that if I should open it before the proper time, all will be lost. Mother moves to Tiffany and then in turn to Jos, whispering something to each of them that only they can hear. They look at me. They understand what they must do. I see it in their eyes. Each of them loves me. * * * It is afternoon now but the sky is dark, ominous, unsettled. The heat has become oppressive. We have made our way into the verdant central park in the middle of the city. We stand beneath a great oak. All is still. We rest for a few moments, and then move onward. We exit from the park beneath a crumbling stone archway, emerging onto a long cobblestone street. In the distance I see the old cathedral. It stands majestic, inspiring, a bastion upon a hill in the middle of a lake. One long arching bridge offers the only access across the water. This is our goal. Behind us, there is a sound like thunder, tenfold, and the ground trembles. Unseen as we flee, an abyss opens in the center of the park. It is a tear in the fabric of the veil. A Demon Prince, first among his kind, emerges. He lifts his malevolent gaze to the heavens briefly before growling harsh commands in the language of Hell to others who have now appeared all around him. They are hooved beings with flesh like molten copper, beautiful wicked nightmare creatures of carnal lust. A female slinks to a nearby male and assumes the position, on hands and knees, her jutting breasts against the earth, her backside raised. The male takes her roughly, his bull-like cock forced into her ass, leaving her cunt empty. She ruts with complete abandon upon him, clawing with one hand at her sex as he fucks her. We see a shop or a home nearby with its door ajar and we seek refuge within. We feel safe momentarily, but we know it will not last. Jos beckons us to move upstairs. We need to be able to see the Demon horde and plan our course to the bridge. I hope that reaching it is still a possibility. We will try. Screams resound as the scourge begins to move across the city. The cathedral is a limited sanctuary for the children and their guardians. Many will be lost this day. * * * It is just past dusk. We are near the base of the bridge, hidden in dense shrubbery. Acrid smoke drifts around us. Much of the city burns. There are Demons all around us. It seems a miracle that we have not yet been discovered. Jos looks at me. I know what he will say. I shake my head from side to side and then embrace him fiercely. His arms enfold me firmly. I breathe. Tiffany places a hand upon my shoulder gently, and leans to kiss Jos upon his cheek. It is a farewell but I can hope. I slip from Jos's arms and steel myself. He slips away into the night to distract the Demons nearest to the bridge. I glance upward at the harvest moon. Tiffany and I move forward, onto the bridge, keeping to the darkest shadows. We know that there are Demons here, but most have not yet moved onto the bridge. They seem to be waiting for something. We are near midspan, but still closer to the city than to the cathedral when the attack comes. A Demon Bitch charges us. She strikes Tiffany first, knocking her sprawling and dazing her. The Bitch tenses, almost imperceptibly, and then she launches herself upon me. I fall, backward, against rough stone, scraping my flesh where my robe tears. The memories flicker into wisps, gone now, moments never to be regained. It is the present. Victoria tears at my robes with her razor sharp talons, exposing me. I am more naked now than clothed. The arachnid skitters to one side of my face and flexes its limbs, moving its body up and down, almost as if in anticipation of what will come. Victoria draws herself upright fully, displaying a body made for sin. Lithe yet impossibly voluptuous, her every attribute is subtly more than any human female could possess. Above all else, she is a creature made for sexual debauchery. She whips her tail back, behind her, and then coils it forward between her thighs, bringing the tip to the entrance of her glistening dark lipped cunt. She thrusts it sharply inside herself and grips it with one taloned hand, slowly stroking it as she would do if it were the thick bull-cock of a Demon Lord who fucked her. She pulls the tail from within herself and drops down upon me once more. Her power is far beyond my own, and there is nothing that I can do as the tip of her tail glides upward along my inner thigh, seeking its prize and my corruption. I feel the brush of her molten copper flesh against me as her tits rub against my breasts. I gasp, anticipating entry to my sex. I see a blur just to the left of me. It is Tiffany. She is running toward us. In the smallest part of a moment, I know what she intends. I scream. It is primal, from the heart and soul of me. I cannot stop her. An agonizing cry of grief immeasureable chokes my scream as I watch the pair, Tiffany and Victoria, tumble over the side of the bridge and downward into darkness toward the surface of the lake far below. I am on my stomach, my hands pressed to the stone, peering down into the darkness. There is nothing. I sob, but I know that I must continue. I try to gather my tattered robe about me but it is a hopeless effort. At least I still possess the box, the thing that I must protect and carry forward. I still do not know its power. I raise myself to my knees and behold the most unlikely thing. Divine Mother is running toward me. She does not run like an old woman. She wields a gleaming silver sword. It is a crusader's blade with a cross for its hilt. Victoria's widow spider is impaled upon its tip. She flings the arachnid away into the night and races onward. The cowl of her pearl white robe falls back as she reaches me. My eyes widen with unbridled surprise. She appears young, not much older than me. Her auburn hair falls in long radiant waves midway down her back. There is a glow to her. I see a great wisdom and a deep sadness in her hazel eyes. I stand and she embraces me. She asks me if I still possess the box. I show it to her and she nods. We wait. He comes. The Prince of Demons begins his ascent upon the bridge. The horde follows in his wake. Divine Mother tells me that I must remain where I am. I must not come to her aid and I must not flee toward the cathedral, not yet at least. The most important thing is about to happen. She kisses my cheek softly. Her scent is of flowers. She turns and walks a short way back along the bridge toward the approaching scourge. She jams the point of the sword downward into a seam between stones at the center of the bridge and then pads a few more steps beyond it. She kneels, awaiting him. As the Prince approaches Divine Mother he barks commands in deep guttural bass chords to those who follow him. They stop. They seethe. Their lust is insatiable but they will not disobey him. Heavy cloven hooves clatter against the stone as he strides toward Mother on legs as thick as the trunks of small trees. His partially erect cock is darkly magnificent, thick, and vein lined, much larger than that of any mortal male. Heavy round leathery ball sacks hang firmly suspended at its throbbing base. I imagine the vile seed roiling within them. Black horns are his crown. His eyes blaze like amber jewels set in his harsh cruel visage. Mother looks to him, her gaze unflinching. Slowly she rises before him. She seems so small and delicate now. With a deft graceful sweep of her hands she draws open her robe and lets it fall around her feet. She steps toward him, naked. His nostrils flare. He scents her cunt. His gaze shifts to the looming cathedral and then snaps back to her. Mother turns. He looms behind her. She is the divine feminine. To the male beholder she is lush, ripe, intoxicating, vulnerable, desirable in every possible way. The Prince cannot resist the taking of her. I watch, both horrified and enthralled, as Mother lowers herself slowly onto her hands and knees like a beast. Her radiant auburn tresses fall gently against the stone. I wonder if she closes her eyes as the Prince comes forward to mount her. He moves against Mother. Coal black talon tipped digits bruise her flawless flesh as he grasps her hips and readies himself to enter her. His bullish cock is swollen, hard, throbbing with lust. He forces the head of his cock between her nether lips, opening her, seeking the way into the hot wet rapture of her clenching cunt. He growls as he claims her, thrusting powerfully into her depths as far as she can possibly receive him. Divine Mother cries out. It is a poignant cry of wounded pain, bitter loss, and ultimate sacrifice. It is a sound I will never forget. The Prince uses her, fucks her, ruins her. I watch with revulsion as he comes, slamming her prone against the rough stone beneath her. He holds her hips up and I can see his wracking final thrusts as he ejaculates his vile seed inside her. Finally, he slows. He lowers his head to her alabaster shoulder and sinks his wicked fangs into her divinity. Mother has gone quiet. Her body trembles. She lifts her head and looks to me. Now is the time. I press my fingers around the box as I was shown. It opens with a click. A scrap of parchment falls to the stone where I kneel, but otherwise, the box is empty. An intense sickening fear rises within me. I begin to retch. My gaze is drawn back to Mother as an Angelic light gathers around her fallen form. I see her tears and I begin to understand. The light is not gathering around her. It is leaving her. The light coalesces into an argent sphere too bright to look upon. The Demons avert their sight. I pray. In a time less than the blink of an eye, the argent flame of heaven streaks to me and suffuses me with its grace. The glow fades. I do not know it now but from this day forward I will only age a year in a decade. Mother begins to convulse upon the stone. The change begins. Her flesh darkens from alabaster pink to molten red. Her lower legs contort, reshaping themselves. Hooves form. Her fingers lengthen and nails become blackened talons. Her perfectly formed breasts swell and ripen into jutting tits made to drive males mad with lust, to be pinched and pulled and sucked upon. Her waist thins. Hips swell. Her spine curves and her bottom rises. Last, her features shift and eyes begin to blaze like flaming amber jewels. She looks at me and hisses, but then she begins to fade, to become gossamer. In a moment, the entire Demon horde is gone. The veil is closed. Mother's sacrifice delayed and distracted just long enough. We are saved, but she is damned. I find the scrap of parchment where it fell, and lift it from the stone. In simple flowing script is written just a name, Elizabeth. She was Elizabeth. * * * A few days later I sit at a rough wooden desk in Elizabeth's old room. It is my room now. My hand is poised, holding a writing quill above a small blank scrap of parchment. I hesitate but then I lower the quill and carefully write my name, Violet. I add a little flourish to the V so that it appears much like a heart. I set the quill aside and lean forward. I blow gently upon the parchment to dry the ink. My gaze shifts to the waiting wooden puzzle box. After a moment, with delicate fingers, I lift the scrap which bears my name and set it within the box. I press it closed and hear a soft click as it latches. I have twenty years.