Sienna looked into her brother’s eyes.
She had not yet formed her opinion of his girl.
Humiliation… very good
.
“You’re always quick to diagnose,” she smiled.
She gripped Fallon’s chin.
“You got a gaping cunt on you, girl?
A few too many country boys bend you over the fences?”
Fallon tried to pull her eyes away from the horrible woman’s gray gaze.
Dawson said, “Nod for the Mistress, Fallon.
Let her know that sloppy big pussy could not even empty the noodle last night.”
Both Master and Mistress were aroused by the pitiful sob and the reluctant nod the girl offered.
Fallon was terrified, and she turned to see Andrea crying for her humiliation.
In high school, there had been two boys, and only one quick lover from work, until Fallon discovered he was married.
Is there something wrong with me?
Did one of them stretch me out too much?
She thought about Ricky Arnold.
He had hurt, but she thought it was because it had been the first time.
The girls were led down one of the many integrated hallways for servants, allowing them to traverse the house without going through the main sections and rooms.
A door towards the end opened up to a kitchen where two cooks and a naked serving girl were working.
“Other two aren’t down yet, Dawson.
Good morning, Sienna.”
“Good morning, Lucille.
You don’t mind if we tie them off and have our coffee?”
“No miss.
I’ll wait until the other two show up to feed them, if that’s all right.”
“That would be fine,” Dawson responded.
“Lucille, this is Andrea.
If she misbehaves, she enjoys a little smack to correct her,” Sienna said as she pushed Andrea down to her knees and chained the front of her collar to the wall, with her welted bottom resting on her calves.
“Do you have a rag?” Dawson asked.
Fallon felt herself being pushed down next to Andrea and clipped to the wall.
“This is Fallon, Lucille.
She has a loose pussy and I’m afraid she’ll leak my juice all over your clean floor.”
Lucille noticed the girl shudder and heard a sob of humiliation.
Those were always her favorite, though a wooden spoon would certainly find Andrea’s bottom before breakfast was through.
Lucille spread a rag beneath Fallon and hissed, “If that big pussy of yours drips, it had better be on that rag.”
Dawson ordered, “You both are to obey the cooks in our absence, and there will be absolutely no talking or breakfast is over and the gags go back in.”
The wet sponges were finally removed from their mouths, but other than quivering sniffles, the girls did not plead or speak.
Andrea and Fallon stared at each other, commiserating their disgrace with the situation.
A few minutes later, Courtney and Megan were led in.
Courtney had an old cloth diaper with oversized pins and a bib that read, ‘I pee myself’.
Her big blue eyes were red from crying, and the look of innocence on the small girl made Lucille’s pussy clench and moisten.
She was thrilled to have two humiliations to work with, and she waited for Brian to announce Megan’s talent.
Lucille noticed the slightly glazed look of overwhelming senses, a sign of shutting down.
So soon?
Too bad.
“Salvageable?”
“I don’t think so, Lucille.
She’s just slow and needs to figure out how to assimilate.
I think she’s going to wind up either being boringly accepting of everything when she snaps out of it, or a total loss.
Can you have the slave feed her if she doesn’t get the hang of it?”
“Yes, Brian.
I’ll have the girl tend to her after your breakfast is served.”
The girls knelt and Lucille put ceramic bowls in front of them.
Cold oatmeal was plopped into them, with no milk or sugar.
What the mash did contain was a daily dose of birth control and extra powdered nutrients that they would need for the stamina required for training.
A small bowl of water was placed between Andrea and Fallon to share, and another between Courtney and Megan.
Lucille said, “I’d go easy on the water, little miss diaper.”
Courtney issued another of her endless sobs with her big blue eyes spilling tears, and Lucille thought the pale, fragile creature was lovely.
Megan merely stared at the concrete block wall in front of her, until halfway through breakfast when she suddenly balked and pulled back against her collar and chain, screaming in terror.
“Let me go… oh, god… I don’t belong here.”
Megan was shrieking and straining, knocking into Courtney and causing her to wail again, until Brian dashed into the room and jammed the sponge back into her mouth.
“That was quick,” he grinned.
Lucille shrugged.
“Guess she missed her friends.
You want her food sent up to your room later?”
Brian was busy short chaining Megan to the wall so her nose touched the stones and she could not thrash around.
“That would be fine.”
He rose and walked back to the dining room.
The three other petrified women ceased their crying and tried to return to shoveling the pasty mash into their mouths with their tongues.
They took turns lapping water, and Courtney realized in horror that without Megan drinking she had finished the entire bowl herself.
Lucille picked up the empty container and chuckled.
“Good luck today, diaper girl.”
The men and woman collected their women and hooked the leashes back to the collars, and they once more traveled the back down the hallway to the elevator.
Megan had not exactly returned to her shocked, silent state, but she was no longer thrashing around or shrieking.
She was crying and pleading behind the horrible gag, and it reminded the other women to remain quiet.
Sienna recognized that the girl Brian was stuck with would quickly follow his instructions to offset her fear.
He was in for a boring three months.
She whispered, “Sorry, Brian.”
Brian shrugged, and whispered back, “If she doesn’t shut down, you’ve got her last, Sienna.
By then, you’ll have nothing to work with, and you will be forced to train her as a house servant.
At least I can look forward to rotating to the others.”
Fallon was nervous when the rest of the group exited the elevator to go back down their halls, and Dawson held her back.
He pushed another button and she felt the elevator sink into the mountain.
When the doors opened, they were on a floor that had carved rock for hallways, much like the tunnel the tram had zipped down, but not as wide.
He pulled her leash and she nervously followed him down the dark corridor, which had fewer lights than the strip illuminating the cave’s entrance below.
The rock under her feet was smooth and cool, and she smelled the dampness of underground while they walked.
There were heavy wooden doors set into the rock on either side as they continued to follow the hallway towards the blackness ahead.
At last, the man turned and opened a door, and Fallon blinked at the lights of a brightly lit room.
It reminded her of a clinic type setting, except the table was polished metal with none of the crinkly white tissue.
Fallon eyed the stirrups nervously, and Dawson had to yank on the leash to get her attention so that her feet would move forward.
He brought her to the end of the table.
“Lie down.”
Fallon looked behind her and began to scoot back on the cold surface, but before she could lower, the man gripped her collar and pulled her face to his.
“The response is, ‘Yes, Master’.”
He felt the tense muscles in her throat swallow nervously, and waited for a moment for her shocked mind to understand the order.
When no sound emitted from the trembling mouth, he reached down and pinched her pussy lips and twisted.
She shrieked in agony and tried to kick herself free from the pain but he was standing between her thighs, continuing the agonizing grip and staring at her.
“Stop… oh, god… please,” she sobbed.
He continued the fierce hold, and her fists clenched behind her at the horrible, twisting pain, while her mind fought to determine a way to end the torment.
“Please,” she wailed.
“Answer me properly when I give you an order,” he demanded.
Fallon’s mind reeled back to his words.
“Yes, yes, Master,” she wailed.
The grip let go and residual numbness of blood filling the tender flesh made her gasp.
“Lie down,” Dawson ordered.
Once more, Fallon trembled and began to lower, and once more the fingers grabbed her swollen sex.
“Yes, Master,” she quickly recovered, and the fingers loosened.
Fallon cried quietly and lay back until her head rested on the table.
She was as terrified as she could ever remember being, and confused when the man’s eyes shone with pleasure at her fear.
Fallon was already beginning to understand that no amount of pleading or begging was going to move this man, and her only ability to lessen his tortures lie in following his demands.
An older woman walked into the room, dressed in a black cashmere sweater and tight black slacks, with heels and gold hoop earrings.
Fallon guessed her to be in her late fifties, though she was extremely fit and her face was just beginning to line with age.
She had cold blue eyes that held the same fascinated, aroused look as the people who had captured her.
“It’s good to have you back, Dawson.”
She leaned forward and accepted a peck on her cheek.
“Thanks for watching things while we were gone, Adela.”
The woman walked towards Fallon, and she could see the woman’s eyes dilate with excitement at her trembling, and Fallon cringed at the icy, blue gaze.
“Lucille tells me this one has a gaping cunt.”
Fallon let out a sob of humiliation and it looked like the woman devoured it, with a pleasing, satisfied smile.
“I’m working on strengthening her muscles.
She was just a pump whore from one of the little Midwestern towns where they have nothing to do but fuck each other.”
Fallon gasped at the crude statement and wanted to deny the terrible words.
The two of them stared at her, and she realized that was exactly what they were waiting for…
and then, they’ll do something horrible to me
.
Fallon sealed her lips and squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut them out.
“I need her initial grooming and measurements.”
“Ringed?” Adela asked.
“I don’t want to squeeze your schedule,” Dawson replied.
“The others are taking their time.
Sienna booked for tomorrow, and then Richard the day after.
I haven’t heard from Brian yet.”
“His girl is vacillating on him.
She snapped out of it a little this morning, but she’s still unstable.”
Adela looked down.
“That’s too bad.”
She looked up and smiled, “Well, hopefully, we’ll find some trait to exploit.
Anyway, that gives us plenty of time to do a full work up on your girl, and save you a few trips down here.
You may have to alter her training for a few days.”
“Not with what I have planned,” Dawson answered.
“Right, let’s see what we’re working with, then.”
The woman walked to the foot of the table, and noted the frightened woman still had her eyes closed.
Even through the smeared makeup and grime since the capture, Adela could see the girl had good potential, and she smiled appreciatively at Dawson… and on top of that, she responded to humiliation… always a Master’s favorite.
“Feet in the stirrups, girl.”
Fallon cringed and remained rigidly straight, continuing her mantra that none of this was real.
She felt a piercing shock at the top of her slit and shrieked as she bent her legs to her chest to protect herself.
The next shock hit at the exposed strip of skin between her channel and her anus, and she wailed and opened her eyes in fright.
The woman cocked an eyebrow over her smiling blue eyes.
“The correct response is, ‘Yes, Mistress’.”
Oh, god… oh, god what kind of nightmare is this?
Fallon saw a thin metal wand approaching her privates, and deduced that it was the source of the piercing jolts.
She quickly placed her feet in the holders, forcing her shaking thighs to spread.
“Yes, Mistress,” she blurted, and waited anxiously, watching the wand.
She gave another sob, this one relief, as the wand disappeared into a pocket of the slacks.
The woman hooked the rings on the bottom of the ankle cuffs to the stirrups.
Dawson flipped the woman a key, and she rolled Fallon onto her side to unhook her wrist cuffs.
She thought about fighting, but with her ankles secured and the man standing so close, she realized the futility of such an action and did not want to imagine the consequences.