Message-ID: <25818asstr$966283824@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail X-Original-Message-ID: <39973D40.EFFB8FDB@home.com> From: "ED MR." X-Accept-Language: en MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 13 Aug 2000 17:28:48 PDT Subject: {ASSM} Rebecca Mine (Chapter 10) (N/C, FF/f, Scat, Bdsm, severe) Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2000 16:10:26 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw This is story is fantasy and is only intended as such. It is written to be read by adults that can tell the difference between fantasy and reality. CHAPTER 10 Rebecca's wrists were chained to the ends of a 4" iron spreader and then the bar was pulled up to the basement ceiling by means of a small pulley. Her toes desperately searched for any sort of perch to rest on and take some of the pain and strain on her wrists and shoulders. Luckily she only weighed about 100 pounds. There was no gag in her mouth but Bidet, Rebecca's slave name, already knew better then to voice any complaints. She moaned quietly to herself. The moaning would help for a while. Mrs. Jones watched bidet's dancing feet for a minute. It was just so erotic to watch the slave's struggles and knowing that this would be the least of it, shortly she would hardly notice her current pains. There was a second spreader that mother dearest attached to the suffering girl's ankles. This added 20 pounds of weight to her wrists and made it completely impossible for her to close her legs, especially since a chain connected the bar to the floor so Bidet couldn't even bend her knees. All she could do was hang in mid air, her toes a good 2 feet off of the ground. This was not a prelude to either punishment or play. This was how the slave girl was washed daily before being put away for the night, while her whip cuts and her various piercings healed. It had worked well keeping Rebecca from getting any infections and helping her wounds heal quickly and well. Each cleaning would begin with a cold water spray down that would wash of any loose muck or feces that might be clinging to her. A brisk scrubbing with a stiff bristled brush would follow this. Mrs. Jones was careful not to disturb flesh that was still healing. Following a second cold water spray down Bidet would be shaved. For the slave that meant that the only hairs to be found on her body were her eyelashes. Mrs. Jones even removed Bidet's eyebrows. Bidet would not be allowed the small privacy afforded by hair. If she felt like that Mrs. Jones would spend some time with her little electrolyses unit and work on permanently remove Bidets hair. Bidet particularly hated these sessions. They not only prolonged the agony of being suspended from her wrists, but the old machine delivered a far greater electrical charge then was needed to kill the hair follicles, it hurt. Time on electrolysis was divided between the large expanses of Rebecca's legs and the girl's sensitive parts like her anus, cunt and areolas. Mrs. Jones would return to these spots even after the last hair had been zapped just to see her young girl's reactions. Because Rebecca had so many spots that were open to infection Mrs. Jones would hose out the cage floor pushing out any filth through the front of the cage. It was possible to bend down the front lip of the floor pan for cleaning purposes. This would be done before rinsing off Bidet for the last time in icy water and then spraying her entire body with antiseptic pepper spray. Mrs. Jones made sure she sprayed the girl's every fold thoroughly. For the next half hour Bidet would feel as though she were set ablaze by the burning spray, crying, screaming and then gradually dropping down to a soft whimpering as her energy was drained from her body. The pepper solution felt like it would burn her to death yet wouldn't even redden the few square inches of flesh that weren't welted and bruised. She would be left to hang while Darcey would go upstairs to have her bedtime snack and herbal tea. Mrs. Jones would leave the basement door open and listen to the sounds coming from below while she ate. This had been an unanticipated bonus, a perverse chamber music. Darcey could barely believe how excited listening to Rebecca's screams really was. The best part was that she knew the peppers were actually contributing to the healing of her daughter's skin. In two weeks the various piercings had healed over well enough to start placing weights in them. This would stretch and thicken the skin so that her many piercings would be able to withstand a great deal of force before tearing in the future. The new nerve endings found the weights to be particularly stimulating especially when they were swinging, constantly pulling on different parts of the piercings. A 2-pound weight was attached to every ring. 24 pounds, of combined weight, pulled on her cunt alone, stretching Rebecca's pussy lips into becoming the most noticeable feature of her body. 4 pounds of weight pulled along the length of each of her nipples. The 2 pounds pulling on her septum felt like 20. The slightest moves would set the weights to bouncing since they were secured to the rings with light rubber bands. Because they were much thinner, the slave girl's inner lips were soon protruding 4 inches below the outer lips, which were stretching more slowly. After a few days they would no longer retreat to the protection of the heavy, outer lips, even when the weights were removed. The weights were removed from time to time to give the skin a rest but had the added benefit that it hurt so much more when the weights were put back on. Mrs. Jones had many more weights just waiting to be used as the girl's skin adapted and grew stronger. Her head constantly bent down and looking at the ground, Rebecca watched what was happening to the appearance of her body and soon felt too horrible about herself to be seen by anyone other then those she had no choice about, at least while naked. It was bad enough when Mistress Jane would drop in and see her. She could never show herself to a lover looking the way she did. Her cunt looked more used and stretched out then her mother's even though she was still a virgin. She couldn't believe any boy would be interested in anything like what she thought she had now. Her tits, once so hard and pert, had begun to sag down and stretch marks began showing up on the top of her tits from being pulled on by the weights. Her nipples were stretched out farther then those on the nursing baboons she had seen on a class field trip to the zoo. Worst of all her face had been destroyed by the nose ring, which Bidet knew would be the only thing anybody would see when they looked at her face. Rebecca was erecting her own barriers to freedom. It helped to believe that she could never face the outside world again even if she were freed. In this way her mind began to believe she was not trying to escape because it was her own choice. This illusion would disappear rather fast, when she found herself under the whip or burning from the pepper grease, but reestablish itself when the worst of the pain was over. Bidet's mind desperately needed to believe that to some degree she was there now by choice and so her self perception sank ever lower and lower. In her own mind she looked hideous and could no longer live in the normal world among regular people. While Rebecca was loosing the last vestiges of hope of ever returning to the normal world, Jane and Darcey waited for the right time to snatch Emily's daughter. She had been living with her parents over 2 months. This was longer then usual. She was bound to head back into town soon, back to her inner city, low life, friends. This time she wouldn't make it. Knowing that she had been away from home in the past as long as 2 or 3 months at a time, it was probable that the police wouldn't even bother to look for her. Mrs. Jones looked forward to having a new body around. A body that she could do anything she felt like to. She felt compelled to be careful with the treatment Rebecca received. She actually believed her daughter would eventually realize the she was born to enjoy pain and humiliation and that the more she was able to inflict on her the happier she would end up being. Mrs. Jones was determined to stay with the program for as long as she had to. Emily's daughter would be perfect to experiment on and learn what the effect of any unfamiliar treatment would be on living girl flesh. Emily had promised Mrs. Jones all the money she wanted for new toys and expenses as long as she could enjoy her own daughters torment, and most importantly have her daughter know that she was the one responsible for her suffering. The thought sent shivers through Emily's body as she waited for the first signs that the little tramp would be getting ready to leave home again. It would be her last voluntary departure. Emily spent a lot of her time trying to imagine how her daughter would feel when the reality of her hopeless condition sunk in. How would she feel when she understood that the rest of her life would be spent in pain as a sex slave? From the way her daughter looked and behaved Emily had reason to believe that this might be what her daughter was actually looking for. Every time she returned home she looked like she had been living in the most abysmal conditions, filthy and haggard. Rebecca spent most of her time alone in the cellar during the time her pierced and battered body healed. She was fed the same gruel every day with different filth being added each time for flavor. The easiest time to eat was when Mrs. Jones only urinated into it. The day that her mother actually stuck her fingers down her own throat and vomited into her daughters dinner had been the hardest. Becky hadn't expected that. Darcey had been drinking heavily that day and lost what little she had left of her inhibitions. The scotch left behind it's own strong taste along with the hot dogs and chips that where well into the digestive process. Ironically this would probably be just what Rebecca needed from a nutritional standpoint. She could use the extra fat and protein. Only pure terror of the dreaded shock stick made it possible for Rebecca to actually eat all of the vomit-laden slop in her bowl. Mrs. Jones took it from its hook on the wall before pushing the food bowl under Rebecca's chin with her foot. "You show me any hesitation and not only am I gonna give you the stick but I'm gonna shove it up your ass hole before I set it off. Just give me an excuse!" Rebecca tried her best not to. She remembered to grunt and squeal like a pig as she ate, sticking her face directly into the bowl and using her outstretched lips and tongue to grab onto the slimy matter that filled it over the brim. Using primarily beans and grains as a source of protein; a large quantity was required to give Rebecca all the nutrition she needed. Even so she expended more energy then was replaced through the slop causing her fat stores to slowly disappear leaving her looking quite gaunt. It was a look Mrs. Jones thought right for a slave. Hormone supplements of testosterone, estrogen and prolactin made sure that none of the weight loss took place in her cunt and udders. It would be some time before Rebecca would notice the changes caused by the hormones for what they were. In the beginning she just thought her body felt the way it did from all the abuse it was receiving and her constant state of fear. The hormones came courtesy of a doctor Jane dominated on a regular basis. Hormones were a part of her fee. Becky was able to keep her mouth going and getting the meal to her throat, swallowing was the hard part. This had to be done against every effort of her stomach to send what was already there back up her throat. She constantly had to re-swallow the awful meal. It was the very real and immediate threat of having her intestines electrocuted that made possible what Becky was doing. Keeping her face buried in the bowl eliminated the requirement of actually smiling while eating. She didn't believe she could manage that so it was better that her face wasn't seen. Becky's stomach continued to revolt for hours afterwards bringing up the taste of stomach acid, bile, hot dogs and scotch. It was horrid, but she felt so relieved when the cattle prod was returned to its hook on the wall. Mistress Jones exchanged it for the extension cord that also hung on the wall and whipped Bidet's back till it bled. "Next time I want to see you smile," was all Rebecca heard while the electrical cord struck her back over and over. The slave girl couldn't move out of the way at all with her ass hole impaled by the inflatable ribbed dildo that was anchored to the back of the cage. Each of her wrists was manacled to its corresponding corner at the front of the cage. The position allowed Rebecca to eat from her bowl while leaving her back stretched just right for a whipping. The unique construction of the cage allowed Mistress Jones to whip right between the bars. By the time it was over Rebecca knew that next time she would have to make a public show of the pleasure even throughout the vilest meal. She knew that the next time she would find a way to do it. The whipping seemed like it would never end leaving her torso stripped with fresh welts. "Next time I want to see you smile you ungrateful little shit!!" *** The call finally came from Emily that she had spotted her daughter hiding her father's expensive Leica camera in her dresser drawer. She was getting ready to leave and was collecting things she could hock for good money. Jane and Mrs. Jones got ready for the take down. It would be very simple. Emily made sure the maid and chauffeur/cook knew about her suspicions. They confirmed that they too had the feeling she was about to leave. Neither one of the staff lived at the house and her husband was on a business trip. At 3 AM the side door to the house was unlocked and Jane and Darcey walked into the kitchen alcove. Jane had a syringe in her hand, courtesy of her doctor friend. The daughter would be drugged in her bed then moved to the trunk of their car. From that point she would never be exposed to the world again. Her next stop would be Mrs. Jones garage, which had a door that went directly into the house. The three women moved on stocking feet, lead by Emily, to the daughter's door. Jane was the one to turn the knob and pry it open, just slightly verifying that the girl was asleep. Conveniently her shoulders and arms were above the covers. Jane was ready with the needle. The 3 approached the sleeping girl. The drug would take a minute to work. Darcey would partially smother the girl for that time period covering the girls head with a pillow then lying on it will holding her wrists at the same time. Jane gave the signal and the three women moved into action. Quickly Jane plunged the needle into the right shoulder injecting its contents of anesthetic almost at once. Once under she would not return for at least 4 hours. Shocked by the sudden attack the 17 year old girl went into a panic and thrashed around violently but the 3 women were more then a match for her and her struggle just sped the anesthetic to her brain faster. She was out in less then a minute. The middle-aged coven then gathered up all the things that Emily's daughter would have taken with her then bagged them and put them in the car including the stolen camera. Next the teenager was bound into a fetal position and placed into a large canvas sack that would make her easier to drag. A leather belt was locked around the top of the sack and would make any attempt to escape, if she regained consciousness, futile. It took a half hour to get to the point where everyone felt comfortable that they had done a good job of making Emily's daughters final departure look like all the others, even remembered to leave behind her tooth brush, just like she always did. With the new slave securely locked in the sack in the trunk, the first stop would be out of town. In a field Darcey had played in as a kid, she remembered an abandoned well that had been boarded over. After some of the boards were pried open the girl's possessions were weighed down with rocks and then dumped down the deep hole. 2 seconds passed before they heard the splash. The cover was nailed back on. Next stop would be to get Emily home before the servants come in and then on to Mrs. Jones' garage. Jane and Darcey pulled in at 5:20 AM, before any of the neighbors were up and might notice the late return of the car. *** Rebecca was near wits end. Her mother believed that no slave should rest as long as she was up and so Rebecca had been bound to one of the basement support posts for the last 6 hours. This had promised to be a very special night for Darcey so she had felt compelled to make it special for Becky too. She had fed and scrubbed Becky much earlier then normal. Mistress Jane was with her and so Mrs. Jones had her guest squat over the cold gruel and warm it with a generous stream of urine. Becky had to learn not to differentiate between the excrement of family and excrement of strangers. Darcey was determined Rebecca would obey anyone that she handed her over to without hesitation. After being fed and then shit on by both women Rebecca had to repeat her now daily ritual of cleaning the basement floor with her tongue allowed only to carry the chunky shit over to a waste bucket, with her mouth. Anything she couldn't pick up with her mouth she had to consume and her time for cleaning was limited to a half-hour. The penalty for a bad job was 2 hours sitting on one of Mistress' newest acquisitions. It was a cone shaped dildo that could by pushed up with a hydraulic jack. It was at the top of a 2" metal post that connected to a 'tip-over proof' base. It was the post that could be moved up and down. The cone started of as a rounded and slightly elongated tip, like a fat 2" long nipple. It then flared evenly down the remaining 12" till it was 5" wide. It was explained to Rebecca that she would have to sit on it, with all her body weight supported by her flaring anus on the cone. She would be tied in a way that would allow no relief from the pressure and that 2 hours would be for her first offence. Rebecca's ass hole was now always sore and inflamed. Darcey made sure it was violated every day and always in combination with hot peppers. Her ass hole now hurt all the time and the thought of being forced to sit on that pole sent a new panic through her heart. Luckily up till then Mistress Jones had been lax in the examination of the floor and Rebecca had escaped post sitting. Before beginning her wash Rebecca had been secured back in her cage with one hand free of chains. She stuck the hand out through the front of the cage so that her 2 keepers could give it a manicure. The nails were clipped and plastic extensions applied. After the extensions were set and trimmed the fingers nails were painted bright red. Her other hand was done the same way after the first was re-chained. After the manicure Beck was suspended from the washing rack as usual, for her bath. It was only a day since the flogging with the electrical cord and so her back and sides hurt terribly when attacked by the scrub brushes. Scabs were torn off creating several red rivulets flowing down her wet body. Tears began to flow when she thought about how much the antiseptic would hurt after the wash was done. For the second day in a row her torso was ignited by the spray. Darcey and Jane took their usual break upstairs while some semblance of control returned to Rebecca. She would try to rip herself apart to escape without even the slightest success till she exhausted herself and could move no more. The burning pain would begin to die down only later. When the women returned to the basement they didn't release the slave from suspension but Jane got down on the floor and started to do a pedicure on Becky while Darcey made up her face. It was time to get the slave made up like a tart for her new dungeon mate. Rebecca hung a long time as she was meticulously cleaned, made up then dressed in the little that she would wear for special occasions. Her toenails were cut and shaped then painted red like her finger nails. Before Mrs. Jones began to make up the tired face she brushed bidet's teeth with an electric toot brush and whitening polish, till they gleamed as they had before her new life. Darcey decided that she would try the hard look on Rebecca's face, a Goth look. It was hardly a reasonable idea to try to create an angelic face with the big ring going through Becky's nose. It had to be a hard look. A look that suggested to the viewer that this was a tough face, a face that could enjoy pain and humiliation. Applying a white foundation over her face was the first thing Mrs. Jones did. The basement lighting was not good so it would be very difficult to tell colors apart. The best thing to do would be stay with black and white as much as possible adding color only where it would be noticed the most. After the white foundation was smoothed out a black accent line was drawn around here facial features. A black outline was painted on around her lips and eyes and then the same brush added eyebrows. Rebecca no longer had real eyebrows. They had been shaved off long ago. Spirit gum was applied next to Rebecca's head and a wig glued on. This was a slave wig. The hair was black and the cut looked like it came straight from ancient Egypt. A straight bang crossed bidet's forehead till it was just ahead of the ears and then the hair dropped straight down to exact shoulder level and cut across to the opposite side of her head. The next thing to be done was lipstick. This was waterproof, as were the entire make up items being used on the slave. They had to survive a lot of crying. Mrs. Jones picked a dark red, almost brown color. The color stood out against the gray shades of Rebecca's face. The blush and eye shadow were gray as well. Her eyebrows were penciled in rising as they approached the sides of the slave's face. Mother wasn't quite done with her yet. Rebecca did have an outstanding feature and it was her eyes. They were jade green. Only Mrs. Jones knew where her daughter got this feature from. It was the one feature on her face that she would highlight with bright color. Mrs. Jones used glowing green mascara. The dark red of Bidet's lips gave a balance to her facial appearance with the darkness of her mouth being set off by the brightness of her eyes and making each feature look more intense. Between the make up and the scraggly wig bidet looked like a punk that had just been wrestled in from the street. The transformation the makeup made was nothing short of incredible. She looked like an undisciplined and aggressive bully rather then a victim. It would have an effect on Becky that she would experience in the near future; an effect that would not be at all to her benefit. It would make it much easier for both Mrs. Jones and Mistress Jane to hold back any mercy. The makeup made Rebecca looked like she needed training and discipline. Washed, manicured, pedicured, wigged, and made up Rebecca continued to hang from her wrists, suspended off the floor. Her wrists had now stopped hurting. Becky wished they hadn't gone numb because it was awful when the feeling returns. Her wrists were now always in pain, whether they were restrained or not and the pain became worse every time they were restrained especially when she was suspended. The area where the manacles pushed against her bones was a solid purple color. The area would only start to heal before the shiny, round cuffs she was always suspended from crushed it again. After an eternity the two dominas proceeded to put on the few cloth's that Bidet would be allowed to wear. Like her body makeup, the cloths weren't to cover the toilet slaves modesty but rather, to make her even more sexually enticing. Her cloths were a black chastity belt with black seemed stockings and very red, very high heeled platform sandals with a locking ankle straps. Finally she was lowered to the ground and attached to the brick pillar in the center of the basement, turned dungeon. The post was an 18" square load bearing pillar made of bricks. The style is common in older houses built before steel beams and posts became the preferred style. Manacles had been attached to the top of the post from a short chain hat fastened to a large ring secured into the brick. Manacles for her ankles were secured, on either side of the post by similar rings embedded into the concrete floor. These were also on short chains. What made this post special, however was the steel bar arrangement about hip level on this post. A 1" square steel bar, 6" wider then the post itself, ran across it's face. The steel bar had two long legs welded to it 18" apart, that straddled the sides of the brick pillar. These legs had a lot cut down the center of them, almost their whole length and the slots fit over studs that had been drilled onto the post on either side. This simple arrangement made it possible for the steel bar , on the front of the post, to be slid out, away from the post, at any angle, and then fixed into position by tightening nuts attached to 6" long handles, on the sides of the post. Becky was fastened facing the post. The position of the leg shackles, forced the fronts of her new shoes to stay to the sides of the post. Her wrists were attached to the irons that hung from near the top of the brick support. The arrangement forced the girl to stand very straight, leaning back slightly, with her legs parted. "Don't want to take any chances in ruining those nice new nylons you have on." Mrs. Jones made the comment to Rebecca in a business like tone. "Move those hips back from the post!!" As Rebecca tried to follow her mother's order, her mother pulled the steel bar out from it's resting-place and forced the girls hips farther back until she stood on her toes. This was no easy feat in platforms with 6" heels, with a space of 1-1/2 feet between her hips and the bricks. "Since this is your first time at the waiting station I'm taking it easy on you and letting you face forward. It's' a lot harder if you have your back to the post and have to arch backwards. You do look very attractive like that I must say. Your ass looks so inviting. I'm going to be away for a while so there are a few more things that will need to be done." Mrs. Jones retrieved the large ribbed dildo and dipped it into the always-waiting bucket of pepper grease. "I can't trust you not to turn this place into a toilet while I'm gone so you're going to be sealed off so to speak. Relax your ass hole so I can put in old stubby here." Mrs. Jones tried to imagine how it felt to bidet to have the thick dick pushed past an anal ring that was clearly swollen and red from daily abuse. She knew, from the reactions she got that it hurt just to be lightly touched. The peppers had their biggest effect when they had exposed nerve endings to settle on and much of her skin had been rubbed off. In only two weeks Rebecca's formerly tiny ass hole, could now stretch to 3-1/4" inches. This was , more then the pillar candles Darcey kept upstairs for atmosphere. Becky had also managed to learn, through the week, that no mater how much it hurt, it would hurt less if she relaxed it and allowed it to be plundered. This was easier said then done. It took the greatest effort to actually relax. Darcey was a determined woman and would do anything she had to, to achieve her goals. Some of the loudest screaming from Becky came when her mother would crank open the 'pear', while completely ignoring her please for mercy. The pure pain would overcome her fear of begging for mercy. She would beg and promise anything at all for relief. Mrs. Jones made it a point not to react in the least and would leave the pear inside until the slave's rectum had reached the diameter she had set for that day. Unlike its medieval predecessor the one Mrs. Jones had didn't have any sharp edges or points. It wasn't there to tear open its victim's insides but only to expand them. Once inserted into the cunt or rectum and the lock mechanism released a powerful spring would try to force it open. The screw on the front of it was there to vary the pressure of the spring, inside the device. Once activated there was no rest from the unrelenting pressure it applied. The spring would continue pushing outward against her anal walls with the same continuous force even when her ass hole relented and stretched out. A scale on the device let Mrs. Jones know it's diameter at any time. Un-inflated the large ribbed dildo was forced into her inflamed rectal passage. Now able to accommodate it's presence without the sensation of being ripped apart, it was still very uncomfortable to say the least, and the discomfort would build with time as gas accumulated in the slaves intestines. Becky learned to pass some of the gas around the phallus but it was only possible to get rid of a small portion at a time and only when it had built up sufficient pressure to make her feel very bloated. Once fully inserted the air bladder in the dildo was pumped up sealing her rectal passage from passing anything but that little bit of gas. Her diet made Bidet extremely flatulent. Next the girl watched as the catheter that would seal her bladder was coated with the same antiseptic pepper grease. She was tempted to beg for mercy not to have her bladder catheterized but she knew that would be a serious mistake. Her legs began to tremble as Mistress Jane used the cunt rings to pull her pussy lips apart and give her clear access to Becky's urethra. Becky tried not to cry for as long as she could hold out, about 20 seconds. The two dominatrixes stood back and looked at Bidet. They both thought she looked gorgeous. The little bit of clothing she had on did nothing to conceal her nudity but only enhanced it. The circle drawn by the garter belt and top of the stockings drew the eye directly to her open crotch. The stockings were also sufficiently opaque, in the cellar light, to conceal the bruises that covered her legs, making them look smooth and perfect in contrast to the badly marked ass and back. The shoes enhanced her feet and made her look deliciously awkward while the red color screamed 'fuck me'!!, to the observer. Jane's eyes constantly ran up and down the stocking seams. For a while she would watch her feet in the red shoes. Her toes tried to push her up just a little bit higher and had to push on the thick solid soles. They didn't seem to stop moving, but frantically writhed looking to find a little leverage. After watching her feet a while Mistress's eyes would follow the tracks, the black stocking seams, up Becky's legs. Legs that looked smooth and muscular from lots of exercise. The bight red nail polish was visible on her dancing toes. The musculature of her calves showed up distinctly. The calves were the main driving force trying to lift her feet up a bit higher pulling constantly on Rebecca's heels and hoping that her toes could take over some of the work. The stiffness of the shoes precluded that. Constantly the muscles relaxed and contracted while her heels moved side to side thinking there might be a better, more comfortable, position. Her legs virtually begged to be whipped. Jane chuckled and smiled thinking how futile Becky's efforts were. She was only making things harder for herself. Soon almost all her major muscles would be exhausted and cramping. In an hour she will have surrendered to the reality of her situation and stopped moving completely, surrendering to her chains, except for the odd involuntary twitch and cramp. Were the top of the nylons stopped, half way between her knees and the crease separating the thighs and buttocks, the ravages of the past 2 weeks were very clear. There were fresh bruises that were dark and purple. There were middle-aged bruises that showed all sorts of colors from yellow to blue. There were lots of small scars where skin had been cut. These scars hadn't thickened yet but did hold the two sides of cut skin together. The scar tissue was white in contrast to the more olive color of her natural complexion. Were it was the perfection of the toilet slave's legs, an illusion created by the black nylons, That made them so whippable. It was the very sight of the abuse that her rear had already suffered that made both her current Mistresses want to beat her more. They wanted to hurt her more then they had already. Watching Rebecca's struggles against her bondage excited Jane tremendously. Jane's eyes wandered back down the legs, to the obscenely red sandals. This time she noticed how her struggles were driving her toes past the ends of the shoes where they would give no contribution to her efforts to get higher and ease the pain in her wrists and back. The toes looked so sexy though wiggling like they did in mid air. Mrs. Jones' attention was drawn higher up. Up to her daughter's face and torso. To her this was were the real action was. She was after her daughter's mind as well as body, but her mind was the greater prize. Mrs. Jones expected nothing less of Rebecca than absolute surrender to her fate. Surrender so complete that Bidet would turn down any opportunity for freedom. Preferably Mrs. Jones hoped that Rebecca would actually accept her fate and obtain some pleasure from it. She thought this would show up in her face but she hadn't seen any signs of it yet. That's why she had wanted to paint bidet's face. Maybe she could create the look she wanted even without her daughter's cooperation. What the two women also thought about was the impression Bidet would make on their new slave. They both wanted to make sure that the girls never became friends and so they planed a strategy where one would suffer from the presence of the other. They wanted to see the two afraid of each other and a sweet look on Bidet's face would be counterproductive to having Slave fear Bidet. They would just call Emily's daughter 'Slave', keeping from her anything as personal as a real name. Slave had an advantage over Becky, she was bigger and older. The two women found it very hard to leave their little Bidet. She was in such exquisite agony. The knowledge that her pain would only increase as the hours pilled up all but had them too excited to leave. The light finally went out plunging Rebecca into total darkness with no hope of freedom no matter what she did. How she wished she were in her cage, even if it usually meant waking up to a whip slicing across her back. Her mother had tried to sneak up on her several times to catch her sleeping while Mistress was in the dungeon, and breaking that rule. Darcey now had a remote control for the basement light and would suddenly turn on the light while standing right beside the cage with a whip in her hand. She would scream at Bidet and tell her how lazy a slave she was while whipping the girl's back between the cage bars. Even with this a constant danger while she was asleep in the cage, it was much better then what was happening to her now. She wanted to be back in the cage where she had at least a little comfort and catch some real relief. To her horror her calves began to cramp, both at the same time. She wished she were dead. *** Rebecca was delirious with pain when the light came on again, blinding her for a minute so she couldn't see how Darcey and Jane dragged the big burlap sack, with the new slave down the cellar stairs. She could hear the women cursing their load for being as heavy as it was. The women would soon remedy slaves weight problem. She wouldn't be a fat pig for long. She would just be a pig. They hopped she would feel every bruise she got, being dragged down the stairs, for what she was putting them through. The burlap sack with its bound load was dragged underneath the ceiling winch and the rope fastened to the belt closing the top of the sack, and hoisted to the ceiling. Its occupant was beginning to come around from the drug, no thanks to her bumpy ride. Mrs. Jones picked up the water hose on the floor and turned it on full force blasting the sack with cold water. She kept hitting the porous sides of the sack till she saw the unmistakable signs of struggle in the sack. It literally began to dance in the air and didn't stop till slave was exhausted. "Where am I?" "The fuck is going on? ... Help... let me out of here.!!" The screaming and cursing continued even as the new prisoner tried to get herself more comfortable in the sack. Her back was killing her from being bent forward the last four hours, but not as sore as Bidet's was after six. Nobody said a word. For Bidet at least there was now some hope she would be released. She found a little bit of strength to let out some whimpers and remind the two women that she was there and still tied up in that body breaking position. Slave heard the whimpers. They made her terror that much more intense and real. It was clear the noise was coming from someone in a great deal of pain. A lot more then she was in herself. The cold water had been a big jolt to her system and if she were any older probably brought on a heart attack with the discovery if her bondage being the last straw to put her over the top. But Slave was young and strong and so she survived the initial shock. "Talk to me, somebody talk to me.!!" She screamed the line many times, her bag swinging gently in a little circle. Nobody talked to Slave. Mrs. Wilson couldn't leave her house without suspicion until the servants went home that evening and they had promised to keep Slaves unveiling into her new home from happening until she got there. Much to Becky's relief, her mother came around to her post and pulled back the steel bar that had been pushing back the slave's hips and keeping her stretched and bent forward. There was a tremendous relief to her back followed by even more pain as she found her back had frozen and couldn't straighten out. Her body had stretched but the girl still couldn't get any slack on her chains being so bent and stiff. Her legs no longer gave her any support but had turned to dead weight. Neither coven member spoke. Mrs. Jones picked a padded leather posture collar of it's hanging peg on the basement wall and fastened a 'Y' shaped chain, the short ends being connected to heavy rings on either side of the collar. The long end of the chain was passed through a pulley connected to a ceiling beam right on top of the pillar. The Mistress then attached the poster collar to Bidet's neck above her permanent electric collar. Becky's hopes for release were dashed as she realized she was about to be pulled up by her neck. Before pulling her up Mistress Jane took care to unclip Bidet's nylons and roll them down to her shoe tops. No sense tearing them when her legs rubbed against the coarse bricks of the post. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+