Hope and Fear 2
Unable to move, Corinne could only lie paralysed as the sounds of fighting cascaded around her; shouts and screams and the clash of metal on metal gradually subsided and at last there was quiet. Unable to hear properly because of the thick leather of the bag it seemed to Corinne that she could hear voices pleading for mercy, but these were soon silenced.
Corinne had no idea how long she lay on the cobbled street but without warning she could feel the drawstring on the leather bag over her head being loosened. Then the bag was being pulled up to expose her gagged and blindfold covered face.
“Are they all dead?” asked a woman’s voice.
“Yes Captain,” replied another woman.
“What did you learn?” asked the first voice.
“They were, as we suspected, former residents of Breston, males who had returned to the city in the hope of finding their wives and daughters, when they couldn’t they decided to simply take any woman they found out of the city. As you can see their methods were… unsophisticated but effective. Use a fast acting drug then bind and gag the women to ensure a silent exit and release them once they were away from Breston.”
“Was this their first foray into the city lieutenant, or have they already returned to Sinter with word of what has happened to the women left behind?” asked the captain.
“This was their first attempt Ma’am.”
“Good, how many females are there?”
“Six in total including these two, what do you want doing with them?”
“Have you made an acquisition for yourself since we took the city Lieutenant?”
The Lieutenant laughed, “Yes Captain, a thirty-year-old blond with massive tits, not to everyone’s taste but I’ve always had a thing about really big titted sluts so this one is perfect for me. What about you, are you considering one of this pair?”
“No, if this is who I think it is then she’s already spoken for and as the blond was with her, I think it’s best we keep them together. I’m going to take the two brunette’s we’ve just secured from the males, they look very much like a mother and daughter and that really appeals to me, something I’ve always wanted is a pair of slaves that were a mother and daughter,” said the Captain with a chuckle.
“Keep them to one side for me until I return and see if any members of your patrol want the last two, if not then take them to the Royal brothel. They appear to be attractive enough for slave-whores and get rid of the males bodies, burning them would be best. Meanwhile I have a delivery to make,” said the Captain as she once more pulled the leather bag down over Corinne’s face.
As the bag was secured around her neck Corinne was in shock, Averill and she hadn’t been captives at all they were being rescued, but now they really were captives. Corinne felt herself being picked up then she was placed onto a flat surface, something rolled against her.
Corinne realised it must be Averill, then the surface she was lying paralysed on began to rock and Corinne realised she and Averill must be on the some sort of cart or wagon. Corinne had no idea how long she and Averill were transported for but finally they stopped moving.
Then there were voices and orders being issued then she was being lifted up and carried, finally Corinne was placed on her feet and once again she heard voices muffled by the leather bag and indistinct, whatever the discussion was about it went on for some time.
Still unable to move, Corinne felt the leather bag over her head being removed, the blindfold prevented her from seeing who had removed the bag but Corinne was terrified. This time she knew for certain that she was in the hands of the Witch-Queens forces and that she was now destined to become a slave. Corinne wanted to scream, to beg for mercy but the paralysis that held her body in place and the large ball gag in her mouth stopped her.
“The blond holds no interest for me,” said a voice from behind Corinne, “Perhaps you would like it Canoness Vesty.”
“I’ll have to see it naked first,” said a second voice from Corinne’s left as she felt the cuffs around her wrists being unfastened, she knew the two women were talking about Averill.
“Of course,” said the first voice as Corinne’s arms were placed by her sides, “Slut and bitch undress that,” said the voice.
There was the sound of high heels clicking on a hard floor as Corinne felt hands at the back of her head. Without comment the ball gag was unbuckled and pulled from her mouth which remained open and paralysed. The blindfold was removed, and Corinne could see and to her surprise she realised that she could move her eyes.
Still unable to move the rest of her body Corinne looked around, the room she was in was obviously a large reception or drawing room of one of the more opulent and extravagant houses in the city. The furniture and decorations as well as the ornaments and paintings emphasised this, whoever’s house this had been before the city had fallen had been extremely wealthy. Corinne turned her eyes to the left, what she saw terrified and horrified her even more.
Two slaves dressed in skin-tight black leather were silently and rapidly undressing an immobile and unresisting Averill; the two slaves worked quickly and soon Averill was naked. A grey haired, middle-aged woman with a lined, pinched and hard face in black velvet robes walked around Averill, stopping in font of the naked woman she reached out and squeezed Averill breasts then she ran a finger through Averill’s pubic hair.
“A natural blond, I like that,” said the woman.
Corinne realised she must be the Canoness Vesty as the woman continued to examine Averill’s body squeezing, stroking and touching her in a way no woman ever had. Finally, Canoness Vesty spoke.
“It will do nicely, I’ll take it,” she said as she stood in front of Averill. Corinne’s mind was in turmoil, she knew that Averill was about to be enslaved and that she would be next and there was nothing she could do about it.
Corinne could see Averill’s wide and terrified eyes turn towards her then a tear ran down Averill’s cheek. Canoness Vesty disappeared from view for several minutes, when she returned not only was she naked but for a pair of high heeled ankle boots and black leather gloves, she also was also wearing a harness around her hips from which projected a large dildo.
To Corinne the dildo looked identical to the one that Corinne had seen her mother and sister ravished with. In her gloved hands the Canoness held a small box, still paralysed Corinne could only watch as Canoness Vesty opened the box and began to decorate Averill’s body.
Finally, the Canoness stood back and looked at Averill, a gold ring now pierced each of Averill’s nipples, another gold ring pierced Averill’s navel and six rings were through each of the outer lips of her labia and one through her clitoris. Two gold studs pierced her tongue while a dozen studs lined each of her ears and the centre of her lower lip was pierced with the final gold ring.
“May I borrow your slaves to dress it?” asked the Canoness as she looked at Averill.
“Of course,” said the voice behind Corinne, “Slut, bitch, obey the Canoness do what she requires and dress her new toy for her,” ordered the voice.
Still frozen in place, Corinne watched as Averill was transformed; first her hair was plaited with black leather strips into a tight braid then the two silent slaves dressed her as Canoness Vesty stood and stroked the dildo with her gloved hand.
Finally, they were finished and Averill was no longer recognisable as the women she had been.
Averill had been laced into a skin-tight black leather slave-skin that covered her from the neck downwards, she also wore elbow length kid leather gloves and ankle boots with six-inch heels. Averill’s face was sheathed in an incredibly tight, form fitting, black leather slave-mask that left only her eyes uncovered and was held in place by straps buckled closed at the back of her head, around Averill’s neck was a wide, studded black leather collar.
“Put it there,” said the Canoness pointing at a sofa.
As Averill was lifted onto the sofa by the two sex-slaves, Corinne noticed that Averill’s tightly gloved fingers were slowly moving as she was moved by the two slaves and laid on her back on the sofa. Canoness Vesty wasted no time, walking over to the sofa she pushed Averill’s leather enclosed legs apart before undoing the zip that covered Averill’s vagina, For a moment the Canoness looked down at the leather sheathed Averill then, without comment, she climbed on top of the paralysed woman and pushed the dildo into the unresisting Averill’s pussy.
Chanting a darkly evil magic spell, the Canoness began to move her hips, fucking Averill with the large black dildo as she cast the spell that would enslave the young woman. Corinne wanted to look away, but she didn’t, her eyes remained fixed on the sight of Averill being ravished by Canoness Vesty.
Corinne had no idea how long it took, how long she watched as the woman she had so recently met was turned into a sex-slave but finally it was over. Canoness Vesty climbed off Averill, the dildo that had been veined in black and green was now plain black as it was slid wetly from the new slave’s cunt and hung from its harness dripping with Averill’s juices. Reaching down the Canoness zipped the slave-skin closed over Averill’s sopping wet pussy, then she walked past Corinne and out of sight.
Minutes passed before the Canoness returned, now dressed in her black velvet robes but still wearing her leather gloves, in her hand she held a long strip of leather that Corinne realised was a leash. The Canoness walked over to where Averill lay and clipped it to the ring on the front of the studded collar, “You are called stiletto,” she said then tugged on the leash, “Stand up stiletto,” she ordered.
As the newly created slave climbed from the sofa and stood in front of its Mistress Corinne realised that the spell that Canoness Vesty had cast on Averill had had the consequence of cancelling the effect of whatever she had been drugged with. Corinne watched in terror as Canoness Vesty ran her gloved hands over her new slaves leather sheathed body. Then she saw the look in the eyes of the slave that had been Averill, a look of utter adoration as the new slave looked at its Mistress. Oh no, oh no thought Corinne I’m going to be like that.
“If you’ll excuse me I’ll take my new pet and get the remains of its old personality and memories erased then get it branded,” said the Canoness, “Then I want to teach it how to please me.”
“Of course my dear Canoness, I hope you enjoy your new property,” said the voice behind Corinne.
“I’m sure I will, come stiletto” said the Canoness as with a tug on the leash she held the Canoness led the leather sheathed, newly enslaved Averill away.
“Very satisfactory,” said the unseen woman behind Corinne, “Now strip this one,” she ordered.
Corinne couldn’t move as the two leather clad slaves approached, both were dressed identically in black leather slave-skins so tight they showed every line of the bodies they sheathed, Corinne could even see the outline of the rings through the slave’s nipples and navel.
Thigh boots with six inch heels and held closed with a line of silver buckles down the outside covered the slaves feet and legs and their hands and arms were covered by black kid leather gloves that reached to the middle of their leather covered biceps. But it was what covered the heads and faces of the to slaves that horrified Corinne the most.
Skin-tight black leather hoods were laced stringently tightly in place but unlike the mask that had been buckled over Averill’s face the eyes of each slave were invisible, hidden behind dark, smoked glass eyepieces. The only holes in the hoods were the small ones that allowed the slaves to breath through their noses and the hole in the back of the hood where their strictly braided black hair came through; the rest of the slave’s heads were entirely covered by skin-tight black leather. To complete the slave’s outfit three-inch wide black leather collars with one inch chrome spikes jutting outwards were buckled snugly around their necks.
Corinne stared at the slaves featureless, leather covered faces as their gloved hands began to undo her clothes. As the two slaves stripped her, Corinne tried desperately to get her body to respond but the attempt was futile, there was no way for her to resist as the slaves leather gloved hands undid her dress, Corinne’s shoes and stockings were next and then the pair began to remove her underwear. The two slaves continued to silently strip Corinne and finally she was naked.
The two slaves stepped back as a figure walked around Corinne and stopped in front of her.
“I’ve been looking for you,” said Deaconess-General Andrea Van Stantvoordt, Commander of the Order of the Black Sisters as she looked at Corinne.
“And now I’ve found you I’m going to make sure I keep you. I’m sure you’re going to make just as good a sex-slave and pain-slut as your mother and sister, so let’s continue turning you into one,” said the Deaconess-General as she opened a box she was holding. Corinne wanted to vomit as she realised that the two leather-covered sex-slaves were her mother and sister and that very shortly she would be exactly like them.
To her surprise the piercing of her body caused her no pain whatsoever, merely coldness in the areas that the gold jewellery was fitted to. Within minutes it was over, and Corinne’s body was permanently decorated with the gold jewellery in her nipples, navel, pussy, mouth and ears.
Andrea Van Stantvoordt looked at Corinne, “Good, braid its hair and dress it,” she commanded.
The two slaves that had been her mother and sister moved towards Corinne as she stood immobilised and terrified, it took less time than she would have thought for the two slaves to braid her hair into a tautly bound plait hanging between her shoulder blades. Then the slaves disappeared for a moment when they returned Corinne could see that in one of the slaves gloved hands was a black leather slave-skin, Corinne knew the slave-skin was for her.
Silently the two slaves began to dress Corinne in the slave-skin. Sliding her legs into the tight black leather then pulling it up over her thighs and hips, the taut leather stretching as it was pulled over her legs.
Corinne could not resist as her arms were fed into the sleeves of the slave-skin and the two slaves began to lace it closed from the middle of her back to her neck. The black leather fitted Corinne’s body like a second skin emphasising and enhancing her shape, taking Corinne’s hands the two slaves slid the long black leather gloves over her hands arms before smoothing and tugging them into place. Next came the thigh length boots, Corinne could do nothing as her leather covered feet were fitted into the boots and they were buckled closed around her legs the six-inch stiletto heels forcing her feet into a position they had never experienced before.
The terror was rising in Corinne as the slaves approached her with the next item in her transformation, a black leather hood identical to the ones they wore. As one of the slaves held the leather hood open, Corinne couldn’t tell if it was her mother or her sister, the other held open Corinne’s mouth, moments later Corinne found out why this was done. Attached to the inside of the leather hood was a thick rubber phallus shaped gag that would fill her mouth when the hood was in place.
Corinne was desperately trying to move her head as the slave holding the leather hood lifted it towards her face but her attempts were fruitless. The black leather hood was pulled into position and as the leather covered her face the fat penis shaped plug slid between her lips and filled her mouth. Corinne could do nothing as the soft black leather hood was pulled against her face and completely round her head.
The dark coloured glass lenses slid into place in front of Corinne’s eyes and she felt her hair being fed through the hole in the hood. The slaves began to pull on the laces and the leather began to tighten around Corinne’s head and face, her mouth was forced closed around the fat dildo gag as the leather tightened and moulded to the shape of her face.
The slaves worked silently but efficiently and rapidly completed their task; the hood was laced closed and Corinne’s head and face were encased in the constricting black leather then came the final item. A three-inch wide black leather collar with inch long polished steel spikes was fastened snugly around Corinne’s neck and buckled closed; the terrified young woman now looked identical to the two slaves that had been her mother and sister.
Corinne’s looked through the dark lenses of the hood, her eyes had now adapted, and she was able to see clearly as Andrea Van Stantvoordt came back into her line of sight. The Deaconess-General was naked except for a pair of knee-high stiletto heeled boots and the harness around her waist which held a large, black dildo lined with pulsing purple and green veins.
The Deaconess-General looked Corinne up and down then she grinned, “Perfect, you’ll make an excellent sex-slave, just like your mother and sister,” she gloated, “Put it on that sofa,” she ordered.
The two slaves took hold of Corinne and half carried half dragged the horrified leather covered woman to the sofa on which Averill had been ravished, the slaves laid Corinne on her back and stepped away.
Corinne realised she could move her leather gloved fingers, a flash of hope surged through her but it was quickly dashed as she looked up and saw Andrea Van Stantvoordt standing over her with a smirk on her face. The Deaconess-General ran her fingers down Corinne’s leather covered face and across her leather sheathed body, then she pushed Corinne’s booted thighs apart and undid the zip over the terrified young woman’s pussy.
Without comment the Deaconess-General climbed on top of Corinne and positioned the tip of the black dildo at the opening of Corinne’s pussy, Corinne closed her eyes as Andrea Van Stantvoordt looked down intently at her for a few seconds then she spoke.
“Look at me Corinne, open your eyes and look at me,” she said, her voice thick and husky with suppressed lust.
Corinne slowly opened eyes, staring upwards through the darkly tinted lenses of the hood then her eyes met those of the Deaconess-General. Andrea Van Stantvoordt’s eyes suddenly turned completely black and Corinne realised she couldn’t look away; her eyes were fixed on the all-black ones staring down her. Corinne’s gloved fingers fluttered as Andrea Van Stantvoordt began to chant in a language that Corinne couldn’t understand then with one swift movement, she pushed the dildo deeply into Corinne’s pussy.
As she continued to chant the magic spell and her all black eyes seemed to bore into Corinne’s green ones Andrea Van Stantvoordt began to fuck the immobile, leather sheathed Corinne. For a few brief moments, as the dildo slid in and out of her, Corinne felt nothing but gradually, and with rapidly increasing strength, extreme sexual pleasure began to radiate through her body and mind.
Corinne was no virgin, but she had never experienced anything like this, despite her best efforts to repel the feelings, but she was quickly becoming very, very excited and there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. Corinne tried to resist the feelings pulsing from her vagina, tried desperately to resist the sensations in her mind as Andrea Van Stantvoordt’s all black eyes bored into hers, but she couldn’t, and by now she didn’t want to.
Corinne realised she could move, could try to get away, but she no longer wanted to, she didn’t want to do anything other than lie here and be... be fucked and fucked and fucked. Corinne could feel new emotions, new loyalties, new needs, new desires a new sexuality flooding into her mind, pushing out and erasing what had been there before; remaking her mind, creating a new Corinne.
The dildo sliding in and out of her cunt was exciting Corinne more and more, as her mind was corrupted, twisted and shaped by the Andrea Van Stantvoordt’s magic. Sensations so extreme she had never experienced anything like them before were pulsing through Corinne’s body, exciting her to greater and greater heights. The dildo felt wonderful as it slid wetly in and out of Corinne, filling her, stretching her, exciting her like she had never been excited before.
Juices were running from her cunt as the Deaconess-General fucked her then suddenly what seemed like the darkest blackness imaginable exploded through her mind and body and Corinne came with an intensity that was unbelievable. Corinne’s mind flooded with colours, black then red then black again, her eyes slammed shut and for a while time seemed to stand still.
The eyes of the lather sheathed young woman slowly opened, she had not felt the dildo being pulled from her cunt or the zip that covered her pussy being closed but the Deaconess-General was now standing beside the sofa a leash held in her hands.
“Stand,” ordered Deaconess-General ash she clipped what was obviously a leash to the ring on the front of the collar around her neck.
The leather covered young woman realised three things, first she could move, the second was that she was totally and hopelessly in love with the woman holding her leash and the third was that she couldn’t remember having a name. she looked adoringly at the woman who was her Mistress the woman who owned her, the woman whose property she was. Another realisation struck the new sex-slave, why was it thinking of itself as she, there was no she there was only the slave, an owned thing, an it.
The slave that had been Corinne got to its feet and stood before its Mistress unable to believe how honoured, how privileged it was to be owned by this Mistress. The slave shuddered with pleasure as its Mistress ran her fingers over its leather covered body.
Andrea Van Stantvoordt grinned, “What a delicious little cunt you are my pet, one day I may give you a name but for now you will have none. Now, let me get rid of that ridiculous personality and those pointless memories that you have left after your enslavement, they’ll just confuse you”
The slaves Mistress reached out with both hands and took hold of both sides of the slave’s leather encased head, “This will hurt but I know you’ll enjoy that,” said the Deaconess-General as her eyes once more turned black.
Ten Days Later...
The slave knelt contentedly beside its Mistresses chair; it could not imagine a more wonderful place to be than at its owner’s side. The tightly fitting black leather suit it wore left its breasts and pubes exposed for its Mistresses pleasure but squeezed its waist and lower chest in a stringently laced corset that gave it an hourglass figure. It’s head and face were also encased in tight black leather, a hood, laced at the back of the slaves head, that left only it’s eyes uncovered and had a hole that allowed it’s silky black hair to fall down its back in a tautly fastened braid.
In addition to the suit, hood and black leather opera length gloves the slave was also in rigidly fitted bondage. A stiff leather posture collar circled the slave’s neck preventing all but the smallest movement of its head. Its arms were held behind it’s back in an unyieldingly firm arm-binder which had been buckled and laced as tight as it’s Mistress could make it. To complete the outfit the slave wore laced, thigh-length boots with ballet heels that when it walked forced it to balance on the tip of its toes and the dagger thin nine-inch stiletto heels.
Gold rings hung from the slaves pierced nipples while it’s exposed clitoris also held a gold ring and each of the lips of its labia held six gold rings. Beneath the black leather hood the slave’s lower lip was pierced with a gold ring and its tongue was pierced with two gold studs. One last item marked its flesh, the family crest and name of its owner had been tattooed onto the slave’s right buttock. The slave was valuable property and it’s Mistress wanted no arguments should it be stolen or lost.
Kneeling on either side of the slave were two other identically dressed slaves, all three belonged to the same Mistress, Deaconess-General Andrea Van Stantvoordt. The slave knew that not only was its Mistress incredibly beautiful and absolutely perfect she was also incredibly clever, somehow the slaves Mistress had managed to find three slaves that looked remarkably similar. All three had finely featured faces with pale almost alabaster skin, all three were black haired and green eyed and all three were tall with slim, willowy figures and of course all three were pain-sluts.
All three of the pain-sluts received intense sexual pleasure from experiencing extreme and agonising pain. So much pleasure that orgasms as strong and long as those the three sex-slaves received from vaginal or anal sex with their owner always accompanied the acute pain they received at their Mistresses hand, which was why the nameless sex-slave felt jealous. If it could, the slave would have pouted but a large rubber plug filled its mouth and the black leather hood covered its lips, it could only look at the sight before it and wish.
Hanging from a chain attached to cuffs around its wrists was an almost naked sex-slave, leather straps around its ankles knees and thighs bound the slaves legs while the slaves head was encased in a black leather hood similar to the one the nameless slave that watched it as it hung by its wrists wore, around its neck was a tightly buckled studded leather collar. The slaves feet were a foot from the ground and the hood that tightly wrapped its head had no holes for eyes or mouth, its entire face was covered in unbroken black leather, only two small holes beneath its nostrils to allow it to breathe and the hole in the top of the hood from which its braided blond hair came out to hang to the middle of its shoulders penetrated the tight black leather.
The hanging, blond haired slave was being viciously whipped by its Mistress. A grey haired, middle-aged woman in the black velvet robes of a Sister of Torment was raining blow after blow down on the pain-sluts body with a riding crop. Red welts, black and purple bruises and streaks of blood covered the slaves sweat covered back, thighs, breasts and stomach, with each stroke of the whip the slave twitched and writhed as it swung by its wrists.
But the nameless slave watching the hanging slave being whipped knew that the slave was feeling intense sexual pleasure from the whipping it was receiving. Glistening juices were running from the slave’s cunt and down its thighs and its pierced nipples were rock hard. From beneath the taut leather of the hood that encased the slaves head and face heavily muffled groans, whimpers and grunts of pleasure could be heard as its Mistress lashed unrelentingly at its body with the riding crop. The watching pain-slut was intensely jealous, it would love to be hanging there while its Mistress whipped it.
Suddenly there was a noise from the steps that led down into what had once been a wine cellar but was now a brightly lit torture chamber. The slave watched as a woman in her early twenties, her arms tied behind her back her mouth filled by a large and tightly buckled ball gag was forced down the stairs and into the torture chamber by two clerics armoured in studded leather.
The young woman’s eyes went wide with shock and disbelief as she looked at the slave hanging by its wrists in the middle of the chamber. For a moment the slaves owner stopped and looked at the young and obviously terrified woman then with a smirk she turned her attention back to the hanging slave and once again began to whip it.
The woman was pushed in front of the Deaconess-General and for a moment she looked down at the three black leather covered slaves kneeling silently and obediently beside their owner. The nameless slave looked back at the woman, long auburn hair framed a lightly tanned face; the woman had green eyes and full almost pouting lips. Her figure beneath the dust streaked but once expensive brown silk gown she wore was classically proportioned with full breasts and a narrow waist that flared out into well-rounded hips and buttocks. The slave could not tell if the woman had good legs, the gown obscured them, but she could see that the young woman was tall.
The two clerics saluted, “Ma’am, we found this during our latest sweep, our orders are to bring any woman we think suitable for sexual slavery to the highest ranking officer in our area, there is of course no one higher than yourself,” said one of the soldiers as the redheaded woman struggled futilely in the grip of the two clerics.
Andrea Van Stantvoordt looked the young woman up and down, taking in her face and body, “Do you have an identity?” she asked.
“Yes Ma’am, her name is Elise Treberrin, her mother was a member of the city council and was called Audrey Treberrin, we have checked the records and Audrey Treberrin is now the property of her Grace, Arch-Deaconess Candida Renville.”
Andrea looked at the young woman’s face, “Ah yes, I see the family resemblance to Candida’s slave,” Andrea smiled, “I used it last time I visited Candida, latex is a very enthusiastic slut, Candida has trained it in some wonderfully extreme perversions.”
The nameless slave could see a look of horror on the young woman’s face as she heard what the slaves Mistress said although the slave couldn’t understand why. Surely it was the most natural thing in the world that a sex-slave was trained to fulfil its Mistresses every desire no matter how perverted or extreme they were. The slave felt incredibly sorry for the un-owned woman, not only did she not have an owner, a Mistress to control her every action, she didn’t understand how wonderful it was to be able to fulfil every desire a Mistress had, and comply with every whim no matter how twisted.
“You did right to bring this one to me, she is definitely attractive enough but the question is what to do with her, I do not require any further sluts and to be honest she doesn’t suit my tastes and Canoness Vesty only likes blonds,” said the slaves Mistress as she pointed at the black robed cleric who had finished whipping her slave and was now smoothing a lotion over the cuts, bruises and welts that covered the blond slaves body and thighs as it continued to hang by the cuffs around its wrists. In hours the magic potion would heal the sex-slave, leaving its skin flawless and unmarked.
The auburn-haired young woman began to struggle again as she realised the discussion was revolving around her becoming a slave. She looked desperately around, trying to fashion an escape but the two clerics simply held her more tightly. Andrea Van Stantvoordt suddenly smiled, “Of course, I should have remembered, Lieutenant,” she said looking at her adjutant, “Bring me a pen and paper.”
Two hours later the unnamed sex-slave felt the tug of the leash on its collar and silently climbed to its feet, getting up was difficult without the use of its arms and hands and the ballet heels it wore caused more problems, but the slave managed to stand. The sounds of sex were drifting through the air along with the smell of female arousal. On a sofa at one side of the torture chamber the slave could see a mistress being pleasured by her slave.
The mistresses red satin gown had been removed and she sat on the sofa dressed in a red leather corset, red silk stockings, red knee-high stiletto heeled boots and red, kid leather opera length gloves. The mistress, who was blond and appeared to the slave to be in her fifties or sixties, was moaning, whimpering and groaning in obvious sexual pleasure. Kneeling between the mistresses wide-spread thighs was a sex-slave.
Dressed in a red leather slave-skin, red stiletto heeled thigh boots, elbow length red kid leather gloves and with a red leather mask buckled over its face leaving its eye and mouth free, the slave was pleasuring its Mistresses pussy. Its mouth sucking and licking hungrily as a leash attached to the wide double buckled collar around the slaves neck was held in its owners leather gloved left hand. The slaves braided auburn hair was wrapped tightly around it’s Mistresses gloved right hand as she forced the slaves leather covered face into her cunt.
The unnamed slave felt happy for the slave servicing its owner’s cunt, an hour earlier the slave had been an un-owned and obviously very unhappy free woman called Elise Treberrin but the slaves wonderful, clever and beautiful Mistress had known what to do. She’d known that her friend Kristina Collerton had yet to find a slave to suit her tastes and that she liked young redheads.
The slave had found it amazing that the young woman had struggled and screamed so much as she was forced to drink the black calming juice, but the effect of the fluid had been rapid, and the young woman had swiftly stopped resisting. She had quickly been stripped of her old clothes and dressed in red leather, collared and masked before being fucked and enslaved. The new slaves Mistress had named it el and had wasted no time in using it and what had recently been a fee woman was now what the unnamed slave thought all attractive women should be; a leather covered sex-slave worshiping its Mistresses cunt.
“I think we should leave Kristina to enjoy her new slut,” said Andrea as she looked at the pair on the sofa, “Besides, duty takes precedence over pleasure, and the Queen demands my presence.”
“I also have tasks to complete,” said the grey-haired Canoness Vesty.
Behind her, waiting patiently and obediently at the end of its leash was the Canonesses blond haired slave. The slave had now been dressed in a black leather slave-skin, ankle boots with six-inch heels were locked onto its feet and elbow length gloves covered its hands and arms. A black leather hood covered every inch of its head and face except for the slave’s blue eyes that gazed lovingly and adoringly at its owner.
“Goodbye for the moment Andrea,” said Canoness Vesty as with a tug on its leash she led her leather sheathed slave from the torture chamber.
The unnamed sex-slave was in pain as it watched its beloved Mistress, its feet ached and burned from the extreme angle the ballet boots forced them into, its waist was being squeezed agonizingly by the corset and its shoulders and arms were being excruciatingly strained by the arm binder that bound its arms. The result was that the slave was feeling intense sexual pleasure, its cunt was wet, and its nipples erect from the pain it was experiencing.
The Deaconess-General watched the red leather clad sex-slave that had been Elise Treberrin as it pleasured its Mistress. The Deaconess-General turned and looked at the unnamed sex-slave for a few more seconds.
“Your name is whore,” she said with a grin.
The sex-slave shuddered with pleasure, it had a name, it was called whore, then with a tug on their leashes the Deaconess-General led her three pain-sluts from the room.