2 comments/ 13505 views/ 5 favorites The Possessed By: zeta515 Copyright 2014 by Zeta All rights reserved This story may be freely distributed in electronic form but must include this copyright. The Possessed is a work for pure fiction and all locales, names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or living persons is entirely coincidental The Possessed Slavery had another more subtle benefit however. Since crime was rare, the number of women serving as slaves was small. Slaves were therefore rare, and like most rare things, highly valued and coveted. In effect owning slaves conferred significant social status on the owner. Slaves were in effect the Ferrari's, Lear Jets, and 100-foot yachts of the 23rd century and the competition to own them fierce not to mention expensive. As a result, slaves were almost exclusively owned by the most elite and wealthy members of society bringing the New Social Contract full circle and highlighting its consequences as well as its benefits to all. The designers of the Servitude Laws and the New Social Contract were not content however with mere external influences such as social status and punishment to maintain the order. These had too often failed in the past, and despite the prevailing prosperity of the times, wealth and status were always relative things. As such, built-in internal mechanisms were required to reinforce these external controls. Once again, a bit of genetic tinkering provided the solution. Although the Decision had left women with unparallel personal power and confidence, these were checked by the usual cultural and sexual inhibitions euphemistically labeled the contrary virtues. Modesty, chastity, and humility were now hardwired. Although women remained sexually confident and free to choose their partners, marry or divorce at will, and otherwise engage in all forms of sexual behavior, whether singly, in pairs, or even in small groups, inhibitions that dampened immodest behavior were now genetically hardwired so as to reflexively reinforce the chosen societal norms and morality. Sexual activity therefore continued to be exclusively a private matter between consenting adults and conducted behind closed doors. Public nudity or sexual displays as well as pornography remained largely illegal and socially taboo. The purpose of this tinkering (known as the Venkatesan Modification) however was not merely to control the public morals but to leverage these inhibitions as internal controls against discontent whether public or private. As such, this genetic hardwiring was accompanied by a predisposition towards making these taboo activities sexually stimulating. Thus for example, thoughts of appearing nude in public although personally frightening and humiliating were nonetheless accompanied by a small but nevertheless real thrill of sexual excitement that could be felt both physically and emotionally. The result was that a sub-conscious tension was established within the mind of each woman with regards to such anti-social behavior. This tension was then exploited towards the larger purpose of acting as an internal deterrent towards all types of misbehavior, by using the external act of public humiliation as part of the punishment proscribed for criminal activity within the Servitude Laws. Each woman was well aware of this tension both subconsciously and consciously. At the subconscious level fear and dread served to check desire and ambition. Consciously each woman knew the awful public degradation that awaited her if she chose to break society's rules in pursuit of personal gain. None could ever forget witnessing her first public humiliation. Mandated by law as part of the civics' curriculum, all late-teenage school girls were required to attend at least one public punishment. There they witnessed the terrible spectacle of a convicted criminal being dragged into a public square, stripped naked, and exposed to public ridicule and physical punishment. The latter often consisting of spankings, whippings, and personal violations of both her body and her dignity. The result was to consciously reinforce the built-in mechanisms of the Venkatesan Modification. As such, each woman contained within her mind a self-reinforcing inhibition towards misbehavior. This internal check insured obedience to law and order (and most importantly the status quo) independent of external devices or controls. For the price of retaining a few sexual taboos and some outdated morality, peace and prosperity could now be guaranteed to all. Such is the material from which utopias and other golden cages are built. But cages work both ways. With the New Social Contract in place, peace, prosperity and personal freedom guaranteed to all, and a new order of social elites firmly entrenched, the 24th century ushered in the first near utopian world in human history. Those who disagree are few in number and chiefly composed of society's outcasts and malcontents. They are rightly ignored. However there are others, albeit few in number, but nonetheless witnesses to the realities of this utopia, and their disagreement cannot be so easily dismissed. For they have experienced first-hand both its wonders and its horrors: near-naked slaves living side by side with the fabulously rich and powerful, manual labor coexisting with automated interplanetary transports bearing untold wealth, goods casually dispensed and friendships even more casually betrayed, and amorality prized more than the most precious metals or rare gems. It is these witnesses, albeit few in number, who dare to challenge the status quo and pry-open the iron fists of the powerful and greedy ruling elite. Tormented by the spectacle of waste and moral poverty surrounding them, these few prepare to act... Chapter 1: The Web of the Spider Katrina Feltte reclined against the warm stones in the steam room and sighed contentedly. The trip from the mainland had been long, as usual, and she was stiff from sitting and working in the plush but nevertheless confining interior of the transport. It would be nice, at last, to spend a few days at the Castle enjoying its unique pleasures. Katrina was past middle age and matronly in appearance, but still handsome for her age (although slightly overweight). Though she was far from retirement, Katrina found her job simultaneously tiring and stimulating. As head of Blue Onyx, the 24th century equivalent of the Mint/Federal Reserve she was without doubt one of the top five most powerful women in the world. Paper money had, of course, long since passed into history; all transactions being handled electronically via virtual personas. Blue Onyx was responsible for the creation and security of these personas as well as the regulation of interest rates and the money supply. As the head of this important organization, Katrina was a quasi-political figure and very, very powerful, not to mention wealthy. Unfortunately power brought with it both responsibility and duty and a hectic schedule that left little time for anything but work. Trips to the Castle were therefore rare and typically not for rest and relaxation. Still, one could not completely avoid its temptations, no matter how hectic the schedule. Katrina was, of course, a non-sitting member of the board of directors of Zax, the private, quasi-secret society which owned the Castle and the island under its foundations. Publically, Zax was best known as a quasi-secret society notorious for its kinky sex parties and a membership that was rumored to read like a who's who of the rich, famous, and powerful. Secretly, Zax used its notoriety, powerful connections, and considerable wealth to further the ends (both political and otherwise) of its elite members. At the center of these clandestine political activities and intrigues sat Katrina. Not at the head (this was far too blatant, as well as dangerous for someone as intelligent and politically skillful as Katrina), but rather at the center, like a spider in her web, spinning a complex network of interconnected plots, and waiting to ensnare every available opportunity to extend her influence and power as well as further her aims. As Katrina felt her muscles finally starting to relax, Prudence Ardella, entered the warm room and sat on the stone bench opposite her. Adjusting the white towel wrapped around her upper body she said "Feeling better Mistress?" Katrina smiled and said, "Yes, much." Katrina looked approvingly at Prudence. Prudence was a petite, dark-brown haired woman. The word 'woman' was misleading, however; Prudence slight figure and youthful appearance made her appear almost child-like, at best a girl of no more than seventeen or eighteen. Her clear blue eyes, added to the illusion, for an illusion it was; Prudence was thirty-five and an accomplished woman. As the chairwoman of the board of Zax, and heiress to Astra, the solar system's largest mining corporation, she was not only wealthy, but smart and powerful. More than one person had been fooled by her youthful appearance, much to their later regret. For her part, Prudence did little to reveal her real age, since her child-like appearance (of which she was well aware) was something she used to her advantage. Katrina, of course, was well aware of Prudence true age and character. She liked the younger woman for both being aware of and using her assets to maximum benefit. But even more, Katrina liked Prudence for living up to her name. She was both prudent and industrious. Moreover, she was not so prudent as to be entirely risk-adverse. Rather, her actions were always well calculated and very carefully thought-out. Combined with her fanatical work ethic (100 hour work weeks, being the norm) and attention to detail, Prudence reminded Katrina of herself, twenty years ago. Unlike her predecessor at Zax, Prudence was the mature, clear-headed, and calculating leader that Katrina required. "We have a candidate at last, I believe Mistress," began Prudence. "Good!" replied Katrina "Details?" "Caught shop-lifting, of all things," said Prudence. "Shop-lifting?" said Katrina, surprised. This was a rare crime, since no one really had the need to steal goods anymore. "She isn't some homeless waif or mental case?" "No Mistress. Normal base-class society," replied Prudence "Psychologically, slightly rebellious, but not overt; minor relationship problems with parents." "Hmm; but why such a severe punishment for such a minor offense?" said Katrina. "Just plain unlucky" said Prudence. "Turns out she was in a jewelry shop. Thought she was taking a manufactured emerald, turned out it was a Venusian gemstone, very rare and very expensive." Katrina's eyes narrowed and she barked, "We had nothing to do with this, right?" "Of course not Mistress," answered Prudence. "OK," said Katrina. "I don't want a repeat of the last time. This has got to be completely legitimate. We've waited this long, and we can afford to wait longer, if necessary." "I know," said Prudence. "But rest assured Mistress, this is completely legitimate and well within our modeling predictions." "Good. Proceed, then; now how about some hospitality?" "Very good Mistress," said Prudence, clapping her hands. The door to the steam room opened and two slaves walked in. The first had flaming red hair and a tall athletic build. The second was a blond, shorter, with a trim figure. Both women were naked except for heavy thick diapers that encased their lower bodies. The redhead went over to Katrina and knelt in front of her, eyes down cast. The blond did the same, kneeling in front of Prudence. Katrina looked down at the slave, and smiled slyly. Unwrapping the towel that covered her perspiring body and opening her heavy legs, she said, "Service your Mistress, slut". At these words, the red-headed slave blushed a deep red and began to urinate uncontrollably in her diaper, a large yellow stain spreading rapidly across the crotch of the heavy, plastic covered cloth. She plunged her face into the thick tangle of black pubic hair between Katrina's legs and reverently kissed her vulva and began to lick her Mistress's pussy. The blond slave did likewise to Prudence and soon both women moaned with pleasure. Within minutes, Katrina climaxed, her body shuddering with pleasure. Prudence soon followed her mentor. After several more orgasms Katrina pushed the slave away breathing hard. Prudence was soon finished also. Both women looked at the slaves and Prudence said, "Well let's see which of you is the wettest." The tall redheaded slave walked over, with eyes downcast, and stood next to the blond, in front of Prudence. Prudence stuck her finger into the waist of each slave's diaper and examined the moisture indicator located there. Hum, looks like it's your lucky day, she said to the blond slave. Without a word, the redhead unfastened the heavy diaper from the blond. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. With tears rolling down her cheeks, the redhead plunged her tongue into the urine soaked, but bare pussy of the blond slave, licking furiously. The blond almost instantly convulsed in an intense orgasm, crying out slightly, the S-shaped tattoos on her cheeks turning black, informing everyone in the room of her climax. "Enough!" said Prudence. Both slaves blushed furiously, ashamed of what they had just done. "Pick up your dirty diaper and return to your cells" commanded Prudence. The blond bent over and picked up her used diaper and both slaves hurriedly left the room. "Ah! Much better," said Katrina. "Dinner?" asked Prudence. "Yes. It looks like we have something to celebrate," said Katrina. "Yes, indeed Mistress" said Prudence, leading the way to the showers. Chapter 2: Tempting Fate and Other Fatal Misdemeanors Dianna Weiss sat cross-legged in an oversized tee shirt and cotton panties on the bed in her college dorm. Across from her, and also sitting on her bed, was Dianna's roommate and childhood friend, Karen. "I don't think that's a good idea," said Karen. "You could get into some serious trouble." The young women had been talking about Dianna's latest 'idea' or, as Karen referred to them, prank. Dianna was always coming up with some outrageous idea for testing 'the system' or those in authority. She had been doing this since childhood and the habit had carried over into her teen years and now into college, as a young adult. Karen had never understood this facet of her longest and closest friend. As a young child, she was always doing something ridiculous like hiding her parent's keys and locking them out of their dwelling. Of course, her parents had managed to get in eventually, and all Dianna had ended up with was a very sore bottom for a week or so afterwards. Dianna, however, ignored the discomfort, and reveled in the re-telling of the episode, each time embellishing the story to enhance its humor. Karen had to admit that many of her friend's pranks were hilarious, but she never could understand their motivation. As a teenager she had given up trying, believing Dianna would out grow the need as more mature interests took hold. Dianna, although intelligent and bright, had not outgrown the need, and her propensity for pranks remained. As a psychology major, Karen was beginning to gain some insight into the motivations of her friend, or at least she thought so. Although very beautiful, Dianna lacked a certain self-confidence that most young women her age had, at least in part, found. In particular, Dianna was extremely shy about her body. Karen knew she was a virgin, but her shyness went well beyond sexual matters. Dianna, always dressed modestly in public, and in private even Karen had not seen her without clothes on. In fact, Dianna was now as about as undressed as Karen had ever seen her. Dianna even locked the bathroom door every time she used the facilities. Once, Karen had left the door open as she went to pee during the night. Dianna had woken to the familiar tinkling sound of liquid running into liquid and, even though it was dark, had become upset and scolded her friend about the open door. Perhaps Nina's Cut had been a little too deep on Diana. Karen had come to realize that Dianna clearly had problems with intimacy and that her pranks were a method for having and keeping friends without really sharing her inner secrets. Unfortunately, Dianna's schemes were starting to get more and more serious. It was one thing to lock your parents outside, it was quite another to steal. "Come on," said Dianna, "what's the worst that can happen?" "You could get caught and arrested! That's what," exclaimed Karen. "So?" "What do you mean so?" replied Karen. "You don't think that's serious enough?" "I mean, so they arrest me. What's the worst that could happen? A public spanking? A few days in detention?" Dianna said. "You think that's trivial?" retorted Karen. "Did it occur to you that you might be expelled, not to mention having a criminal record?" "Come on" said Dianna, "its not like I'm really stealing it. It's just a prank, as you would say. Plus the fact, can't you see the humor in the Dean wearing a ring with a 'hot' stone from her 'secret admirer'?" Hard as she tried, Karen could not suppress a smile. After all, old Ms. Frump-Face's only secret admirer was the person looking back at her when she looked in the mirror. And only if the damn glass didn't crack! "There, see. Even you can't stop smiling at the idea," said Dianna catching Karen's unwilling display of humor. "Who knows, maybe I'll be voted most likely to succeed in going into diplomacy or something at the end of our senior year." More likely, most likely to succeed in going into servitude, Karen thought. But she decided to apply some of her new found psychological knowledge, and instead replied, "Does the thought of a bare bottom spanking in public excite you?" Given her friend's extreme modesty, it shouldn't thought Karen. But therein laid the paradox that was Dianna; like a moth to a flame, Dianna was strangely attracted to what could destroy her and what she seemed to fear so unnaturally. Dianna smiled at first, like a little girl discussing something naughty, but stopped when she saw that Karen was serious. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Well," began Karen, "I was talking with a friend after psychology class yesterday. She claimed that part of the Venkatesan Modification was geared at making us secretly excited by such ideas." "You mean, by getting punished?" asked Dianna. "Yes. But it goes further than that. It's not just getting punished, but it's the idea of being humiliated, publicly, that makes us sexually excited." "To what end?" said Dianna. "Helps us channel our energy sexually, instead of in anti-social ways," said Karen. Dianna looked at her friend thoughtfully, but remained silent and Karen could see she had struck a nerve. "I can honestly say that part of me is excited by having my pants pulled down in public and being exposed and spanked in front of both friends and strangers; how about you?" Karen continued. "But what does this all have to do with my prank?" said Dianna, avoiding the question and no longer making eye contact with her friend. "Everything" said Karen. "I think part of you is really excited by the thought of being forcefully exposed and humiliated, publicly." "Come on" said Dianna, dismissively. "That's ridiculous!" "Is it?" said Karen. "Then why are you so defensive suddenly? For that matter, why are you always so hung-up about anyone seeing you naked? My god! We're room mates and I've never once even seen you bare-chested." Dianna blushed, and looked away from her friend. Karen pressed on, "Have you ever had an orgasm?" "What?" Dianna said looking up in surprise and embarrassment at Karen. "You heard me" answered Karen. "Have you?" replied Dianna defensively. "Yes," said Karen looking Dianna in the eye. "Well, I don't see what that's got to do with anything. Plus the fact, it's none of your business!" said Dianna, pushing the covers of her bed back, and climbing underneath. "I just wanted to see what you thought about my idea, and suddenly we're having this weird sex-talk. Goodnight!" The Possessed With that, Dianna shut the light, and pulled the covers up to her chin, rolling on her side to face the wall. Karen sat exasperated on her bed in the dark. "So much for playing amateur psychologist," she thought. Dianna could be so frustrating. Still, she thought, she had struck a nerve...something to remember for the future. But it was not a future that she would realize. In the next bed, Dianna lay in an emotional huff. Try as she might, she could not avoid admitting that she was turned on by the thought of being publicly exposed and humiliated; really turned on. Such thoughts had excited her, since before puberty, though she didn't quite know what to make of the tingling sensation between her legs as a child. She remembered how it felt the time she was spanked for locking her parents outside of their dwelling. Her body had tingled and she had shuddered as her pants were pulled down, exposing her bottom. ******************************************************** Dianna thought back to her junior year in high school. She and Karen, along with the rest of their civics class, went on the obligatory field trip to the punishment square in the center of the city. This was the one field trip mandated by law. Every high school student was required to attend one public punishment in order to graduate. The psychology behind the law was quite simple: experiencing first hand what happened to criminal offenders would serve as a deterrent to crime. Dianna, like Karen and the other girls, was nervous and they all joked and giggled on the trip over, and while they stood in the square, waiting for the convicted to be brought forth for punishment. Crime was rare in the 24th Century, but not extinct. Offenders received varying degrees of punishment, depending on the crime. Minor offenses such as petty vandalism were punished by public spankings. More serious crimes were punished with servitude. In such cases, the offender was stripped of most of her rights and sold as a slave for a fixed period of time. In the most serious cases, the servitude could last a lifetime and the loss of rights was total. Prisons, of course, no longer existed, and individuals committing extremely violent crimes like murder were eliminated. But this almost never occurred. Dianna, of course, knew all this and what she hadn't known before entering junior year civics she had been taught by her teacher. In particular, Dianna knew the various degrees of punishment and the offenses most likely to warrant them. She also knew that all public punishments were intended to be humiliating. This had all been discussed, in endless boring detail, in class. The Genetic Revolution, the Great Plague and Gender Crisis, the Teresias Compromise, and the New Social Contract, all ancient history as far as she was concerned, and not particularly interesting or relevant to her. Dianna was, like most of her classmates, unprepared for the reality, of public punishment. As the first offender was led forward, Dianna noticed that the woman (who appeared old at the time, but was probably no more than twenty-five) was wearing a short white v-neck tunic, split at either side. It was held in place by short ties on the sides near the waist. Dianna could see the sides of the woman's bare breasts through the splits in the garment and her bare hips, indicating that she wore no panties. Her escorts, dressed in gray jumpsuits, led her to the center of the square where two parallel horizontal bars stood, about four feet apart and waist high. The woman was positioned facing the first bar and pushed forward so that she stood bent over the bar. The first guard fastened leather cuffs to each wrist with long tethers, which she secured to the second bar effectively, holding the prisoner captive in the bent position. The second guard placed similar cuffs on the woman's ankles, fastening the attached tethers to rings in the ground. When they were done, the prisoner stood bent over, her legs spread, with the barest of covering from the tunic keeping all in the square from seeing her charms. A third woman, dressed in a black jump suit read the woman's name, crime, and sentence to the assembled crowd. Dianna could see the woman blush as her name was read, and to her surprise, the crowd also noticed and jeered. Within moments the atmosphere became party-like with the spectators laughing and joking about what was to come. When the woman in black was done, another woman, the executioner, dressed in gray and black, and carrying a crop approached the prisoner. Unceremoniously, she grabbed and threw up the end of the tunic preserving the last of the captive's remaining dignity, and exposing her bare bottom and pussy for all in the crowd to see. The prisoner blushed a deep red in embarrassment and then gasped in surprise as the woman in black and gray thrust a well-lubricated gloved finger deep into her rectum. After sliding her finger in and out a few times, the woman took a small waxy cylinder about six inches long and slid it into her captive's rectum. The bound woman began to squirm, moving her bare ass back and forth in front of the crowd. A woman in the crowd yelled, "Look, it must feel good!" The crowd erupted in laughter and another woman yelled, "Not as good as what's coming!" The crowd laughed even harder at this. The executioner then stuck her finger in the prisoner's vagina, sliding it in and out, lubricating the opening. She then placed a cigar shaped white plastic device into the newly lubricated pussy. After examining her work, she stood back, satisfied. Dianna was completely captivated by the proceedings and she could feel her own vagina getting wet. It was incredible how excited she had become watching the woman in the white tunic's punishment. Many of Dianna's classmates unconsciously rubbed their pubic areas has they watched the scene unfold. Standing about two feet behind and three feet to one side, of the bound woman, the executioner raised the crop and struck the captive squarely on her ass. The prisoner let out a yelp of surprise and pain, and looked wildly at the crowd, flushing in her embarrassment. The executioner continued to strike the bound captive, striking her buttocks, and upper thighs with the crop. Soon, the prisoner's entire back end was bright pink, and a thick clear fluid ran down her thighs from the crack of her ass. Dianna would later learn that the waxy cylinder contained a pressure and temperature sensitive camphor-like substance. In the rectum, the cylinder would soften, but not melt, unless pressure was applied. Under pressure, it would melt, running out into the external crevices causing a burning sensation. Of course, no actual physical damage was done, but since the natural reflex was to squeeze the ass cheeks together during the spanking, this increased the victim's discomfort. In addition, the waxy material supposedly contained powerful hormonal stimulants that were released both internally and externally. As the thick liquid ran out of the victim's ass, some of it inevitably came into contact with her vagina, causing the same burning sensation to the lip area, but stimulating her internally. The cigar shaped device was a vibrator that was triggered by a particular rocking motion of the hips. This motion forced the victim to raise and lower her buttocks and reinforced the natural propensity to squeeze the ass cheeks. The bound woman frantically raised and lowered her hips in a rhythmic motion to which the executioner kept time with the crop, striking buttocks and thighs with each rise. The prisoner pulled at her restraints in both pain and pleasure, desperately attempting to minimize her discomfort while maximizing the effect of the vibrator, whose utility became more vital as the sexual stimulation drove her desire to a fanatical pitch. Soon the need for sexual release became overwhelming and the captive gyrated her hips up and down frantically. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks and sweat covered her body as the executioner kept time with the increased motion of her hips. In a sudden outburst the captive cried out, "Oh, god, I'm coming! I'm coming! Please not here, like this, in front of everyone. Please god, not here!" And with that, she let out a loud groan of pleasure as an intense orgasm swept through her body. When her climax was over, the prisoner collapsed over the bars in exhaustion. The executioner stopped the cropping, and the escorts proceeded to untie the captive. The crowd applauded and hooted, as the woman was led away, her ordeal over, for the time being, at least. Dianna, like her classmates, stood dumbfounded, spellbound by what she had just witnessed. She had never been so excited in her life and she had almost cum herself when the prisoner climaxed. Dianna could feel the wetness between her legs, and her knees felt weak. She was happy to board the school transport so she could sit. The mood was quiet and subdued on the way home, but Karen and the others were excited also, and although Dianna did not realize it at the time; almost every girl on the transport would go to bed early that night to masturbate herself to sleep. For Dianna, the experience had been an awakening of sorts. Of average height, with large full breasts and wide hips, she had a voluptuous figure. Dark hair, hazel eyes, a large mouth and shapely legs made her stunningly beautiful. Dianna however had been a late bloomer sexually. At seventeen, she masturbated regularly like most girls her age, but she had done so more for stress relief and in response to pent-up hormones, as opposed to any external stimulus, such as attraction to a fellow classmate. In fact many of her friends, especially Karen, had often wondered why one of the most attractive and popular girls at school didn't have a girlfriend. Dianna had never really been sexually excited by a mere display of flesh or affection. If she had taken the time, she might have wondered at this, but as it was the thought never crossed her mind. Today however had been an eye opener. Dianna found that she was intensely excited by the thought of being publicly humiliated. When she masturbated that night, she pictured herself strapped to the bars in the square, her bare bottom exposed for all to see. She stuck her fingers up her ass and in and out of her vagina, a new experience. Up till now she had merely rubbed her clitoris while masturbating and had never explored her orifices, back or front. Fantasizing about being the prisoner, Dianna climaxed several times before falling to sleep. The next morning she thought about her activities from the night before. Maybe there really was something to all this stuff about the Venkatesan Modification that she had been taught in school after all. However in her hurry to get to school, Dianna pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind to ponder later at her leisure. That night however her thoughts strayed again to the woman prisoner, and she found herself excited again; so excited that she masturbated again before going to sleep. In the subsequent days, Dianna found that thoughts of being humiliated continued to turn her on, and in fact, such activities dominated her fantasies, to the exclusion of all others. Within a few more days Dianna became obsessed with the idea of being humiliated and she began to think seriously how she might actually be punished in such a manner. At seventeen, thoughts of actual public humiliation were a little too unsettling, but Dianna dreamed of perhaps finding a partner one day who might accommodate her, perhaps even Karen. Her hopes were both raised and dashed one day when she dared to broach the subject with Karen. "What did you think about the field trip?" she asked, when Karen was visiting. Both girls were in Dianna's room, and sitting on the bed talking. "You mean the civics field trip?" said Karen. "Yes." "It was weird," said Karen "Not at all what I expected." "In which way?" inquired Dianna. "I don't know," said Karen. "I thought it would be more business-like, somber, if you know what I mean." "Yeah," said Dianna. Both girls sat looking at the bedspread beneath them, not sure what to say. After an awkward silence, Karen said, "It was strangely exciting, if you know what I mean." "I do," said Dianna, and both girls blushed. "You too!" said Karen. "I thought it was just me, but I've been sort of listening to the other girls talk, and it seems that everyone was excited. I guess if you really think about it, in light of the Venkatesan Modification, it's to be expected." At Karen's comment, Dianna became excited, just maybe she thought Karen might be the girlfriend she was looking for. "What do you think it's like?" asked Dianna. Karen looked up and said, "What is what like?" "You know, to be punished in front of everyone," said Dianna. "Awful," said Karen immediately, dashing Dianna's hopes. "How's that?" said Dianna, not wanting to believe what she had just heard. "Well, to begin with, not all punishments are the same. There are some that are much worse than the one we saw," said Karen. "Really?" said Dianna interested. Karen was always better informed about these things than she was. "Yes, absolutely; you know about public purges?" Dianna nodded her head indicating she did. "Well, do you know what happens to the prisoner before hand?" Dianna shook her head, but her interest had increased substantially. "First of all, I hear that you're forced to remove all your clothes in front of your victims," continued Karen. "Next they shave your pussy and then comes an enema which you must expel while everyone watches. Then they force you to drink water and take another enema, but they don't let you expel this time. In addition, you're catheterized so you can't pee either. When it becomes painful you're led, naked, out into the public square where the tubes are removed and you loose control and expel in front of the crowd; after that comes the auction where you are sold into slavery for life." "No thanks, this is not my idea of fun," Karen concluded "even if it's necessary to support the New Social Contract". But Dianna barely heard her friend's remark. The idea of being forced to take an enema and expel it in public had caused her to become excited, and Dianna could feel herself becoming wet. Such ideas had never occurred to her, and the idea sent a thrill of pleasure shuddering through her body. ******************************************************** Two years later, as Dianna lay in the dark on the bed in her dorm, the same thrill passed through her body just recalling Karen's description. In high school, she had been too young and immature to focus her sexual feelings. She had often fantasized about how it would feel to be led away, cuffed, for punishment; the simultaneous thrill and dread, knowing what was to come, but being unable to escape. Now in college, her fantasies had become clear and thoughts of realizing them possessed her. As an adult she could be punished in the ways she had witnessed and Karen had described. Dianna had no real desire to become a slave, but a public spanking, well that might be worth pursuing. Of course, Dianna's rational side would not quite let her succumb to the temptations of her fantasies. However, subconsciously her pranks had been slowly escalating in severity, never becoming illegal, but approaching this threshold steadily. That is until now. Dianna had been walking through the small village just outside and south of the college, when she had spotted the jewelry store and a sudden thought rushed into her mind, for yet another prank. She would take ('borrow', in her mind) one of the many gems from the store and add it to the Dean's ring, a plain gold band that she often left lying on her desk during the literature class she taught and in which Dianna was a student. Dianna would return the augmented ring, the next day with a note signed 'from your secret admirer. Then the fun would start. Dianna was not naive enough to think she would never be caught, but she never expected to be arrested either. The gem would, of course, be returned to the store, and the Dean would still have her ring. At most Dianna expected to be suspended for a few days, after the usual dressing-down in the Dean's office. In reality, Dianna never consciously considered the full implications or consequences of her proposed actions; she simply dismissed them as unimportant. So it was that the next day, Dianna visited the jewelry store, and when no one was looking, took one of the stones, a pretty green one. Since crime was almost non-existent, this was easy; security was non-existent and all she had to do was pick up the stone and walk out of the store. No one stopped her, and soon she was sitting in her literature class, in the front row, next to the Dean's desk. As usual, the ring sat on the desk under a tangle of papers, and when the Dean's back was turned, Dianna reached over and took the ring. That evening, she went back to the village, to another jewelry store and had the gem mounted. The jeweler, asked her a few questions about the ring and the stone, but in short order she had the green gem mounted on the gold band, and was on her way. That night, she wrapped the ring in the note she had written and placed the 'gift' in her desk, before going to sleep. The next morning, she took the package and headed to class. When Dianna was about half way across the quad that occupied the center of the campus, two women in gray uniforms escorted by the Dean, approached her. "Dianna Weiss?" asked one of the uniformed women. "Yes" said Dianna hesitantly. "Police" said the woman in gray, flashing a badge. Dianna had never had any contact with the police before and she was both surprised and confused, having completely forgotten about the package she was carrying. "Is there anything wrong?" she asked, still surprised. The Dean spoke up saying, "Dianna, these officers have some questions that they would like to ask you. Would you please accompany us to my office?" Dianna stammered a 'yes, sure', still too surprised to say anything else. Besides, the Dean's tone, although polite, ruled out no for an answer. The four women walked in silence, and wild thoughts ran through Dianna's mind: had something happened to Karen or her parents? After entering the Dean's office and sitting down, the first officer said, "Ms Weiss did you visit Gina's Gems in the village south of the college yesterday?" Dianna hesitated, and events started to crystallize in her mind. The store must have reported the missing stone to the police, but why were they questioning her. Surely they could not have identified her as the thief so soon. The store had been crowded when she took the stone, and anyone could have taken it. Maybe the clerk had given the police the descriptions of people who had visited the store recently and whom she remembered. Dianna had been there several times, planning her prank. "Dianna," said the Dean, breaking the long silence, "A very rare gem was taken from the store yesterday afternoon, and the police think you know about it." Dianna sat in shocked silence. How could they have found out so soon? Any notion of going on with the prank was quickly evaporating, but Dianna, stunned, had remained silent a bit too long. The police officer said, "It is, of course, your right to remain silent. However, this has its own consequences. Before you say anything, there is something I would like to show you." The officer took a small black sphere out of her pocket and rubbed her thumb over the outer surface. Instantly, a three dimensional view of the jewelry store flashed into existence in the center of the Dean's office between the seated women and the desk where the Dean sat. As Dianna watched the scene she saw herself near the gem counter surrounded by the other customers in the store. "This was recorded yesterday afternoon," explained the officer. The Possession of Jesse Note to Readers: This story contains nonconsensual sex between men. If this isn't your thing, please move on. ***** Jesse was in a rush to get home. Eight full hours with his amazingly hot coworker always brought that old, familiar ache back. Ashley was tall, lithe, and graceful, and just being in the same room with her made him squirm. Even now, in the car, just thinking about her made him wince from the pinch of metal between his legs. He didn't know why he had always been so fascinated by chastity. He yearned to find a woman to hold his key, to control when he could touch his dick, when he could become aroused. And many of his fantasies revolved around Ashley, the woman he spent forty hours a week with. But no one held his key, so he kept it in a time-release safe. It would still be another four days before the safe opened, and he could find the release his body was aching for. But his body was impatient, and wouldn't wait. So he'd have to resort to his other method. It wasn't nearly as good as the real thing, but it was enough to keep him from going insane. He reached his apartment and immediately withdrew to his bedroom without so much as a glance to his roommate, Nate. After locking the door, he pulled out the sturdy ankle-cuffs and attached them to the bed posts at the end of the bed. Next, he went to his nightstand and pulled out the locking butt plug and the locking penis gag, along with the little locks that went with them. First, he lubed up the plug, took a deep breath as he held it against his hole, then gently eased it in. Anal play was never one of his favorite activities, but with his dick locked up for another four days, it was all he could do. And when he'd done this before, he always still felt somewhat sated, and the ache in his belly subsided. He wished he could use the dildo that he sometimes played with while masturbating. He enjoyed the feeling of the thick plastic inside him. But it wouldn't stay in without being held in place. Even average plugs could fall out if he squirmed enough. That's why he bought the locking plug. He enjoyed the fact that he couldn't push it out. The only problem was that the plug only came in one size, and that size was bigger than what Jesse was used to. He closed his eyes and gasped, his jaw tense, breathing heavily as the smooth metal plug made its way into him. It was a slow process. He didn't often play with his ass. But finally, it was in place. He reached down and pulled the locking mechanism, and moaned softly as he felt the plug expand inside him. It took a little bit of fiddling, but he finally got the lock in place and clicked it closed. Next came the gag. He pushed the penis-shaped plastic into his mouth, over his tongue, and buckled the harness behind his head, locking it as well. The gag was long; not so long as to choke him, but long enough that it was just a bit uncomfortable, and if he wasn't careful, it would trigger his gag reflex. Last, but not least, he went to the mini-freezer in the corner of his room and opened it, pulling out the wrist cuffs and his favorite device of all; the Ice Warden. It was relatively simple in design. A hollow metal chamber that could be filled with water and frozen, with a metal core attached to an O-ring that slid inside it. Once the water was frozen, it was completely locked, and the mechanism would not release until the water melted. He took the cuffs and knelt at the end of the bed, straining to cuff his ankles in place. Sure, he could make the process much easier by tying his legs together, to the middle of the bed, but he liked the exposed feeling of being tied spread-eagle. He wished there was a way he could tie his arms to either side of the bed, to lie in a full spread-eagle, but that wasn't something he could do. He finally got the cuffs buckled, then fell forward on his stomach. Reaching up, he threaded one of the wrist cuffs through the iron slats at the head of the bed, then cuffed his wrists, buckled them, and clicked the locks closed. Finally, he was done, and he let out a deep sigh, relaxing into the mattress. It would be about two and a half hours before the ice would melt enough for him to unlock himself. He felt full, violated, and exposed. The plug was pressing directly against his prostate. It wasn't enough to give him an erection, much less an orgasm, but if he gyrated his hips a certain way, the pressure intensified. He knew without a doubt that his dick was already leaking precum. Still moving his hips, he pulled against the cuffs that held him, loving the feeling of being restrained, being helpless. He closed his eyes, carefully adjusting the gag with his tongue, and laid his head down on the pillow. He liked to imagine that Ashley had been the one to tie him down, to cage his dick, to fill his ass and mouth. He created vivid fantasies in his head, and the more he thought about her, the more his hips moved, and the more he pulled against his restraints. Jesse was thoroughly enjoying himself. The plug and gag were uncomfortable, but he had to admit that the discomfort was part of what he liked about them. He moaned softly, feeling utterly penetrated. But a strange sound made him immediately snap alert. It was the sound of his doorknob. His heart pounding, he strained to look over his shoulder, at the door. Thankfully he hadn't forgotten to lock it. But why was his roommate at his door? He continued watching as the doorknob jiggled. What was Nate doing? After a few moments, the jiggling stopped, and there was silence. Jesse shook his head, shrugged, and relaxed once more. The interruption had been unpleasant, but he was still enjoying himself. But then, the jiggling came back. Jesse looked again, and felt his heart go silent in his chest as he saw the latch begin to turn. Pure disbelief and utter dread took hold of him, and for a moment, he couldn't even piece together what was happening. What was he seeing? Was his door actually being unlocked? By whom? What was going on? His breath caught in his throat as the door slowly opened and his roommate stepped into the room. "Get out!" he tried to scream, but the gag prevented anything but muffled shouts from coming out. And the force of his tongue against the gag made it trigger his gag reflex, and he dry-heaved once. He pulled hard against his cuffs, but he had fastened them tightly. He couldn't move. Nate didn't say a word as he walked further into the room, standing beside the bed. He stared down at Jesse. Jesse cringed as Nate's eyes explored his body, lingering on the metal poking out between his ass cheeks. He had a predator's eyes. At first, all he did was stare, and Jesse shrank under the weight of his eyes, still pulling on his bonds. He was uncomfortably aware of how far his legs were spread apart, how vulnerable he was, how exposed he was. There was no hiding now. After a long moment, Nate reached down and put his hand on Jesse's shoulder, moving it slowly down his back. Jesse felt his entire body go tense, and shut his eyes tight. Oh God, what was going to happen? What was Nate doing? Was he gay? No, he couldn't be gay. Jesse had seen him with a girlfriend before, and his porn collection consisted primarily of lesbians. But then what was he doing? Why was he touching him? Nate's hand slowed even more as it reached the small of Jesse's back, then down to the curve of his butt. "So smooth," Nate murmured. "Please," Jesse tried to say, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. No one had ever touched his butt before. The feeling was foreign and uncomfortable, and sent unpleasant chills all through his body. He couldn't even really struggle. He was helpless. He gasped as Nate's fingers went further down, touching him gently between his legs. Then, he took hold of the plug and pulled hard on it, making Jesse cry out with surprise and discomfort. "You think I didn't know what you do in here?" he asked, pushing the plug in further, and then pulling it out as far as it would go before pushing it back in again. "I know what you are. I know what you like." Jesse shook his head frantically. God, not this! Not by a man! He tried everything he could to close his legs, to get away from Nate's hand, but nothing worked. He was stuck, exposed and helpless. Nate chuckled. "That's a nice little lock," he said gruffly. "You didn't notice that it's brand new, did you?" Jesse looked up in confusion, and fear clutched him as Nate held up a ring of six keys. He snapped his head forward, looking to the locks that kept his hands cuffed. God, they were brand new, too. They weren't his locks at all. Nate had switched them out. He felt sick to his stomach. Nate now had complete control over him. He could not get the gag or the plug out without the keys. He had tried. Countless times. It was that reason exactly why he liked those toys so much. A million thoughts ran through his head, and for a moment, his focus shifted away from Nate's hands on him. He could go to a locksmith. It would be unbelievably humiliating, but he could do it. He could get away from Nate and get the toys off of him. A soft click brought him back to the present, and he realized with growing horror that the plug inside him was getting smaller. Nate had unlocked it, and was taking it out. "No!" he tried to scream, thrashing about as wildly as he could as the reality of what Nate was about to do to him began to set in. Panic took hold, and logic fled. The only thing he was capable of thinking about was getting away from Nate, away from what was about to happen to him. But it was no use. Nate didn't even seem to notice the struggling as he smoothly pulled the plug out. Jesse bit down hard on the gag as he felt a finger slide inside him. No one had ever touched him there before. He had always dreamed of a beautiful, unyielding woman with a strap-on being the first. Instead, his roommate was going to rape him. Oh God, he was going to rape him. Jesse couldn't stop the pitiful sob that escaped him as Nate continued fingering him. He renewed his struggle, pulling desperately against his bonds and jerking his hips from side to side, knowing even as he fought that it was hopeless. There was no way to stop Nate. No way to get away. He went still, shutting his eyes tight and burying his face in the pillow. The feeling of Nate's finger inside him was foreign and alien to him, but not painful. It was thinner and warmer than his dildo, and while he felt humiliated, violated, dirty, it was the same thing, the same feeling, he had craved from Ashley. How many times had he thought of her while in his self-imposed bondage? How many times had he imagined her kneeling between his legs, fingering him? But God, this wasn't Ashley. "I'm not gay," he tried to explain. But nothing came out except muffled moans. "What was that?" Nate asked. "You want more?" Before Jesse could react, Nate slid a second finger in alongside the first, and pushed them deep inside him. Jesse gasped as he felt himself spread wide, felt himself filled. He moaned, arching his back and curling his toes at the sensation. He felt the wetness below him, and knew that his dick was leaking. God, it wasn't fair! This exact scenario had been his biggest fantasy for as long as he could remember. He'd craved this, he'd yearned for it. But not like this. His body didn't seem to care about the disgust, despair, and terror clouding his mind. His dick bulged in its cage, and he could feel the precum soaking the sheets beneath him. His body didn't care that the fantasy was being fulfilled by a man rather than a woman. All it cared about was that the fantasy was being fulfilled. He moaned again. He didn't want to be turned on, dammit! He was too disgusted, too repulsed to be turned on. "See, I knew you liked it," Nate murmured. "You'll really like what's coming next." Jesse shook his head. But Nate paid him no mind. He withdrew his fingers and quickly unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down to his knees. He leaned forward, reaching for the lube Jesse had left on the nightstand. Jesse cringed at the feeling of Nate's dick resting on top of his butt as Nate leaned over him. He was about to be fucked. Oh God, he was about to be fucked. Nate wasted no time, quickly lubing himself up, then tossing the tube to the floor. He adjusted his position, using one hand to spread Jesse's cheeks apart, and using the other to press the tip of his dick against Jesse's hole. Jesse's breath caught in his throat as he felt Nate's dick ease its way into him. Nate paused with just the head inside for a moment, and Jesse took a deep, shaky breath. Well, this wasn't so bad. He was pretty sure he could handle this. He'd just let Nate do what he wanted, then he'd call a locksmith. Or the police. But he just needed to get this over with first. But then, Nate pushed his dick in further, past Jesse's sphincter, and the pain was unbearable. He writhed and screamed, but Nate didn't even notice. He just kept pushing further in, until he was balls deep, and Jesse was sure he was being ripped in half. For a moment, he simply hovered there, above Jesse's squirming body, letting the boy's movements give him the pleasure he was looking for. "You're so tight," he whispered, thrusting his hips against Jesse's ass, burying his dick deep inside him. It would be a long time before Jesse would be able to take his dick without pain, and Nate saw no reason to make it worse than it needed to be. So, while he wanted to ruthlessly pound away at the boy's tight hole, he waited, allowing him to adjust to his girth. Jesse was panting and blubbering and screaming, but there was nothing he could do. Nate's weight on him kept him reasonably still, and the more he moved, the more it hurt. Finally, after many long minutes, he quieted, the worst of the pain having subsided. He'd never felt so humiliated, so completely and thoroughly violated in his life. "There, that's better," Nate murmured. "That's a good boy." With that, he began thrusting slowly, pushing his dick as far as it would go inside Jesse. The squirming, mewling boy beneath him was warm, wet, and gloriously tight. It wouldn't take him long at all to finish. But he wanted this to last. He was marking his territory, taking ownership of the younger, smaller boy. So he paced himself. He tilted his hips upward, changing the angle of his thrusts and pushing his dick downward, rubbing it directly against Jesse's prostate. Jesse felt the change and gasped, his hands clenched tightly into fists. The sensation of being filled, being fucked, being raped was already the most emotionally and physically intense thing he'd ever experienced, his dick was already oozing precum, and the contact against his prostate was too much for his willpower to handle. His body and his lust took over, shutting his brain down and seemingly acting without any conscious thought. He felt his back arch, pushing back against the man who raped him, urging his rapist to go deeper, harder. God, what was happening to him? How could he be turned on by this? He wasn't gay. He'd never been interested in men. He sure as hell had never wanted to be fucked by one. How could rape turn him on? He couldn't help it. He started moaning, gasping around the gag in his mouth, giving himself over to the control Nate had over him. "That's it," Nate murmured approvingly. "That's a good boy. Show me what a whore you are." His words made Jesse's dick jump inside the cage. Jesse began panting as Nate's thrusts quickened, until the man pressed himself hard against Jesse's butt, burying his dick as far as it would go, his entire body quivering with the orgasm. Jesse could feel the thick, warm fluid inside him, could feel the throbbing of Nate's dick, the weight of him on top of him. Then, Nate pulled out, rising back to his feet and pulling his pants back up. Jesse turned, looking up at his rapist as he felt the warm semen seeping out of him. He wondered what Nate was going to do to him next. He didn't have to wonder for long. Nate grabbed the plug once again and quickly pushed it back inside him, clicking the lock closed. He grabbed the key ring out of his pocket, examined each key, and pulled two off, setting them on the nightstand. "These are the keys to your ankle cuffs," he explained. "When the ice melts, uncuff yourself. If you ever want the plug and gag removed, you'll crawl out into the living room, on your hands and knees, completely naked. You'll crawl up to me and put your face in my crotch, begging me to let you suck my dick. Do you understand?" What could Jesse do? He nodded, averting his gaze. "Good," Nate said. He turned and picked up Jesse's phone, laptop, and tablet. His only links to the outside world. "I'll just keep these somewhere safe," he told Jesse. "I'm all you need to worry about now." With that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him. And Jesse was left alone. Once Nate was gone, once the adrenaline had worn off, after he realized he had just been raped, he lost it. He couldn't stop the sobs that wracked his body. He could still feel Nate's cum dripping down, drying on him. So what did this mean? Did Nate own him now? Was there any way to get out of it? ... An hour and a half later, the metal core fell from the ice chamber, and his hands were free. For a long moment, he didn't move. He was terrified, and dread flooded over him. He had no idea how long he lied there, staring at his unbound hands. But he knew that he couldn't lie there forever. With trembling hands, he picked up the two keys and unlocked his ankles. Just one more time, he tried to pull the gag out, tried to force the harness over his head. But he knew even before he tried that he wouldn't be able to do it. The only way to get it and the plug out of him was with the keys. And the only way he could get the keys was through Nate. Sighing, completely defeated and broken, he dropped to his knees, opened the door, and crawled out to the living room. The Possession of Vivian Vivian was sitting by her vanity in her bedchamber when her servant, Mary knocked on the door. "You may enter." Vivian had her back to her maid and she fought the urge to cross the room to comfort the girl. She knew, without looking, the Mary's lovely face would be hurt and confused at being addressed like a servant. Mary wasn't a servant. She held the older woman many nights while Vivian cried over her late-husband. He was a good man who suddenly fell ill, leaving his wife well-taken care of and yet, Vivian felt alone and began to confine in her handmaiden. She knew Mary was upset at being summoned like this but she couldn't turn to face her. With her back turned, Vivian became to speak. "It was all for you, Mary." She heard Mary stutter, "M-ma'am?" "I've always considered myself a Christian woman. When my Edward passed, I haven't felt anything for another man. Edward will always be my husband." Vivian paused and placed her hands in her lap. "You were my dear friend, Mary and I will always love you." Mary stepped forward to her Mistress but Vivian spun in her seat and held up her hand. Mary came no closed. "I need you to understand." Vivian lowered her head. "Ma'am, what is wrong? Have I displeased you?" "No, you didn't displease me." Vivian paused and began again, "My Edward was such a good man. He saved me from a life of sin and since we wed, I have spent my life trying to be a good Christian wife for him." Mary shifted in place. She hated when her Mistress talked about her late-husband. She hated it because she always hated Edward. Edward was always kind and gentle to his wife but he was not the same man to Mary. She still remembered the first night he slipped into her bedroom and held her mouth shut while his hands wandered under her nightgown. He would pull her into his lap so she could feel his hardness and whisper into her ear, "Who will you run to, whore? No one will believe you didn't enjoy yourself." She tried to plead at first but quickly learned that only excited him. Then his fat fingers would dig inside her while she cried quietly. Mary could feel him position himself to enter her body and his memory brought the taste to his sweat to her lips. The memory was so strong that Mary gagged slightly and was brought back to the present. "You are a good woman." Mary remarked. She meant it too. When her husband died, Mary didn't dare leave Vivian's side because the older woman had always been kind to her. She didn't wish to ruin the woman's view of her late-husband so she held her hair and listened to her cry. In those hours, she came to love her Mistress more than she should have. Mary would lay awake at nights and when she thought about Edward's violation, she wished to run to her Mistress for comfort. To sleep naked in her arms. There was no way for her to say those feeling outloud so Mary stood, silent as the dead. Vivian was silent as well for a moment. "I thought my love for you was simply a desire to see you taken care of. I know realize the sin I dealt with before Edward came into my life has returned." Vivian became to pace the room frantically. "I do believe that God answers prayers and for years he choose not to answer mine. He took my Edward. He sit idly by while I struggle with this same sin that threatens to eat my soul." Vivian was speaking with her hands, waving them wildly over her head. Mary watched in fear and anticipation. Could her Mistress be saying she had the same feelings? The way she spoke of struggle was too familiar to Mary. Mary had so much she wanted to say but was frozen to the spot. The mood in the room changed however when Vivian turned to face Mary. Vivian's eyes were full of tears that had not fallen. She was visibly shaking. "I stopped praying, Mary." Vivian's wild look hardened. "Rather, I stopped praying to God. You'll think it's silly Mary but I prayed to Edward. I confessed my feelings to him like I had so many years ago. I told him I'm sorry and Mary... he forgave me again. Can you believe it?" Vivian became to step forward and Mary for the first time felt fearful for her safety. "You spoke to Master Edward, ma'am?" "Yes, Mary and he told me a secret." In the blink of an eye, Vivian crossed the span of the room and she pinned Mary against the wall. Before Mary could speak, she felt a hot breath whisper into her ears in a voice she thought she'd never hear again. Edward's voice said, "Hello, my little whore." Mary couldn't believe it. She screamed, "No! It can't be!" Vivian's face was the same but the expression was the same unmistakable smirk that haunted Mary. Vivian said, "Edward says it's alright now because he's here. I've forgiven him for being with you. He's forgiven me for my wicked thoughts. He has a message for you, Mary." Vivian's voice changed again and her eyes hardened. Before Mary could register shock on her face, Vivian slapped her check and she felt to her knees. Next thing she knew, Vivian was on top of her, feeling heavier than she looked. Vivian's held her down with her hands pinned behind her back and she had one hand wrapped in her hair. The other hand snaked it's way under the folds of her dress until it found its way between her legs. Mary struggled and tried to cross her legs but Edward's low chuckle in her ears made her scream. While screaming, Vivian's hand parted her legs and forcefully entered her. She wasn't wet and it hurt feeling those fingers prob her. Edward's voice repeating those familiar taunts, "You like it, whore. Just relax so it doesn't hurt you like last time. It will get slippery when I rip your dirty cunt open." Vivian crawled up Mary's body until she could rest her breast on Mary's lip. Each time Mary opened her mouth to cry out, Vivian pressed her nippled into Mary's screaming mouth. "Be a good whore and taste me!" Vivian murmured. "Don't make me hold your head down again." This time, Edward's smug tone come out of Vivian's lips. Mary screamed again and found Vivian's breast shoved against her mouth so she couldn't speak. Mary squirmed underneath, panting with panic in her eyes. Muffled, Mary cried out, "Mistress, please stop! Whatever is making you, please fight it!" Vivian shook her head violently and laughed. The sound was like Edward and Vivian were laughing manically in sync. "I can't stop, Mary. Edward had you and so will I!" Vivian pressed herself against Mary and whispered, "Can you feel it?" Mary didn't know what was happening except Vivian felt very warm down between her legs. Something told her to look down. She saw Vivian's pussy, aroused and swollen. It contracted and unfolded slowly. Mary couldn't believe what she was seeing. It looked like an egg peeking out at first until it pressed forward and grew until Mary realize she was witnessing a cock emerge from inside Vivian's vagina. Vivian had a look of paine joy across her face as she whispered, "He's here with me!" Mary bucked to break free and Vivian squeezed between her legs. Vivian took a moment to view her look of panic before plunging her new cock between Mary's legs. Mary screamed. Not like this! She loved her Mistress and imagined being beneath her naked body but this person wasn't her Mistress. This was Edward inside her, growing harder at the sight from her tears. Edward, laughing, calling her a filthy whore and fucking her pussy until then she felt stretched past the point of pleasure. She felt slick and knew she was bleeding. Mary couldn't look into the eyes of the demon inside her Mistress so she buried her head into Vivian's shoulder and sobbed violently. "I'm going to mark you, Mary. I want you to know that you're my little whore." Vivian bit the side of Mary's neck. Mary screamed and Vivian arched deeper as she began to orgasm. It was a dirty vile soul wrenching affair. Mary cried as Vivian's nails dug into her skin. Time seemed to stretch until all Mary knew was fullness, pain and tears. She couldn't tell when it stopped. Mary was curled protectively into a ball only to find Vivian kneeling over her. Her Mistress was stroking her face. "He's back with us, Mary. We'll be together again." Mary flinched away as Vivian's smirk returned and Edward's voice said, "Yes, Mary. We'll have much more time together."