The only thing worse than waking up with a killer hangover is waking
up with a killer hangover in the captivity of a sadistic
multi-millionaire who intends to make you his sex slave. Tina and
Helen were about to find this out for themselves.
The night before, the two of them had been out at a local bar,
drinking themselves silly to celebrate Tina's birthday. She'd just
turned 19, the legal drinking age in Canada, and Helen, five years
older than Tina, and an old hand at drinking, had taken her out to get
her wasted. The bar had closed at two in the morning, and the two of
them had staggered out, laughing, into the street. They had been
crossing an empty parking lot when a van pulled up, and two masked men
jumped out and threw them into the van, binding and gagging them with
duct tape. Being as drunk as they were, they had been completely
incapable of defending themselves. Alcohol won out over terror, and
the girls passed out before they had even arrived at their
destination.
Helen was the first to wake up the next day. She winced and groaned
at her splitting headache, and slowly opened her eyes. Alcohol was
fogging her mind; for a moment, she forgot what had happened to her.
There was a moment of puzzlement as she found herself lying in pitch
blackness, unsure of where she was. She tried to put her hand to her
forehead, but found it firmly attached to the other one, behind her
back. And then it all came flooding back. She tried to scream, but
found that the strip of duct tape was still firmly covering her lips.
For lack of any better ideas, she started testing her bonds, and her
range of mobility. It was pretty limited; her wrists were crossed
behind her back and tightly wrapped in about a quarter roll of duct
tape. Her legs were also bound, wrapped from ankle to knee in another
half roll of tape. It didn't take a long time for her to figure out
that struggling was useless. That avenue of action exhausted, she had
little else to do but lie and wait, all sorts of horrible scenarios
running through her mind.
After what seemed to be an hour or two, she became aware of a faint
sound, somewhere behind her. It took some time, but she eventually
realized what it was. Tina was awake, and crying. Her sobs were
muffled by the gag, but there was no mistaking the faint whimpers and
periodic sniffling. Helen wished desperately that she wasn't gagged,
so that she could talk to Tina and attempt to comfort her, but the
best she could manage was to hum as loudly as possible, to at least
let her know that she was still with her. Tina's weeping continued;
Helen had, until that point, been too strong-willed to cry, but
hearing her young, innocent friend crying and being unable to do
anything was too much. Soon, she too started to cry.
Hours passed. Eventually, the two were too worn out to cry any more,
and could do nothing but lay in the silence and blackness, waiting to
find what was to become of them. Both were thinking and hoping the
same thing; that maybe, they were just to be held for ransom, and
would be released, unharmed, when their parents handed over the money.
Tina actually managed to convince herself of this, but Helen was
smart and pessimistic enough to realize that neither of their parents
were particularly well-off, and that there were plenty of better
potential kidnapping victims around than them. Everything pointed to
them having been chosen at random, and that probably meant a
motivation other than kidnapping for profit. As she waited, she did
her best not to think about what such a motive might be.
Abruptly, the lights went on. Either they were incredibly bright, or
they just seemed that way to two girls with hangovers, who'd just
spent the last several hours in absolute darkness. The two of them
moaned and squeezed their eyes shut against the brightness. They
heard a door open and close.
"Open your eyes and look at me," said a man's voice.
The girls opened their eyes and squinted. It took them a full minute
to adjust to the light enough to see anything. They were lying in
small, bare room, with white walls, ceiling and floor. Before them
stood five men. Four of them were virtually identical. Tall, burly,
with shaved heads and black uniforms. Each wore a belt, from which
hung a two-foot long metal rod. The man in the center was different.
He was an unexceptional-looking man, probably about 30, neither
handsome nor ugly, tall nor short, buff nor scrawny. He wore black
pants and a white T-shirt, both of which appeared to be designer. It
was he who had spoken to them.
"You're probably wondering why you're here. Rest assured, you'll
find out soon enough. There are a few matters we need to attend to
first, though. Guards, get that duct tape off them and replace it
with some more professional restraints. Girls, don't bother trying to
resist. Those rods you see on their belts are stun sticks. They're
quite effective, but I've heard that the experience of getting zapped
by one isn't terribly pleasant."
There was a cardboard box by the door, and one of the guards went
over to it. The other three walked over to Helen. Two of them
grabbed her shoulders, while the third moved around behind her. The
two holding her dragged her up to her feet. The fourth guard had what
he needed and was walking over with it; eight loop-like things made of
something that looked like leather, and a knife. Seeing the knife,
Helen immediately assumed that she was going to be killed. She
panicked and attempted to break free of the guards' grip.
The world exploded. Blazing agony shot forth from the small of her
back, and she lost control of her muscles. The guard behind her had
used his stun stick. Her body sagged, but the guards holding her were
strong enough to support her limp weight.
"Stupid girl," said the guy in charge, "would I go to all this
trouble to abduct you, only to stab you immediately? Relax. The
knife is just to cut the tape."
And indeed it was. The guard handed the knife to the one behind her,
and soon Helen found her hands cut free, not that she could use them,
stunned as she was. The guard in front of her lifted her limp arms,
one at a time, and fastened the leather straps around her wrists.
They turned out to be like miniature belts, with a couple of
differences. First, each had a metal ring, about two inches in
diameter, on the back. Second, the buckles were equipped with a
clever device that allowed a thin metal rod to be slid in to hold the
buckle's pin down, preventing the buckle from being undone while in
place. After tightening the straps around Helen's wrists, the guard
slid one such bar into each buckle. The bars were too fat to fit
through the buckle's holes at one end, and had a small hole at the
other. Into each of those holes, the guard slipped a small padlock,
and he clicked them closed. The padlock thus prevented the bar from
being slid out the other way, effectively keeping it in place.
The guards then proceeded to do the same for her legs; the tape was
cut and removed, and straps were fastened around her ankles. Helen
was, by now, recovering from the effects of the stun stick, and could
stand, shakily, with only one guard supporting her.
"Please raise your hands above your head," said their captor.
Not wanting to get stunned again, Helen complied. The man pulled a
small box from his pocket, and held down a button on it. Helen heard
a faint whir above her head, and looked up to see a couple of chains
descending from the ceiling. Each had a ring at the end, similar to
the rings on her wristbands, but hinged, so that it could be opened
and closed.
Two guards each took a chain, while a third supported her, and the
fourth stood by with stun stick at the ready, in case she was stupid
enough to fight again. Two guards with the chains snapped open the
rings, slipped them through the rings on her wrists, and snapped them
shut again. Helen noted that the mechanism that had to be operated to
open the rings was complex enough to require two hands; it would
therefore be impossible for her to open them herself while restrained
by them. This was unsurprising, as they wouldn't make terribly good
restraints if she could.
The man pressed another button on the box, and the chains began to
retract back into the ceiling. Helen worried that he meant to pull
her completely off the ground, but he stopped as soon as she had to
lift her heels off the floor. He tapped the button a few more times
to bring her up to standing on the balls of her feet, then put the box
back in his pocket. There were similar rings set into floor by her
feet, that she hadn't noticed until now. The guards opened them, and
locked them onto the rings on her ankle bands.
The man stepped forward, walked around Helen, and tugged on the
chains a little bit. He walked back around in front of her, and
nodded, satisfied.
"You may proceed with the other one, now," he said.
Perhaps Tina was too hung over, tired or scared to fight back, or
perhaps she simply didn't want to feel the stun stick. Either way,
she didn't resist at all. She hung her head the whole time, and never
took her eyes off her feet. In a short time, she too was up on the
balls of her feet, still staring at the floor, hair hanging in her
face.
"Good. Now that everyone's comfortable, I can answer the question
that's undoubtedly burning in your minds," said the man. "Let me
begin by telling you a little about myself. As far as you're
concerned, my name is Master. If you absolutely need to refer to me
in the third person when I'm not around, you can use 'the Master'.
Anyway, I'm rich. Really, really rich. Inherited a whole wack of
cash from my old man, when he died. Never had to work a day in my
life. This tends to make a man bored. So I have hobbies. And one of
my hobbies is abducting women... and making them my sex slaves."
Helen would have gasped, had her gag not still been in place. She
shook her head violently and let out a choked sob, but she was all
cried out, and no tears came. Tina still didn't look up. Of course,
the possibility of being raped had occurred to both of them, but they
had tried to force it out of their minds as much as possible. Now,
their fears were confirmed.
"So yes, you are going to be raped. Eventually, it'll just be part
of your daily routine. I've got more bad news for you, though. I'm a
sadist, so you'll also be subjected to a variety of forms of torture,
both physical and psychological. I can't tell you exactly what I'll
do to you, since I don't know yet. I like to customize my methods to
my victims... but you'll find out more about that later. But now, I
want to get to know you a bit. Guards, remove the tape from their
mouths. Girls, the room is soundproof, so don't bother screaming.
And don't speak unless I ask you a question, unless you want a stun
stick poked in your back."
"You," he gestured at Helen, "what's your name?"
She told him, and he looked her up and down, starting from the
bottom. She was an exceptionally attractive girl. She was short,
about 5'3". She was very curvy, hips maybe a bit too big, but nice
legs. She obviously knew this, as her tight, black pants seemed to be
designed to show them off. Stretching upwards as she was, her black
T-shirt was pulling up, revealing a good, flat stomach. The Master
figured that she probably worked out. Her navel was pierced; the ring
was metallic purple, with a heart for a bead. Her breasts were large,
and the Master noted with surprise that she wasn't wearing a bra, yet
they didn't sag at all. Anti-gravity breasts... a fine trait indeed.
And that brought him to her face. It was a sexy face, despite the
smeared makeup. Her nose was perhaps a bit long and pointy, but this
was the only flaw; she had big, pouty lips and beautiful eyes. Her
eyebrows were professionally plucked to thin lines. Her black, wavy
hair was tied into a bun, but, judging by the few strands that had
worked their way loose, it looked as if it would come down to just
below her shoulders if she let it out. The Master decided that he
would leave her with her natural hair colour, as it contrasted nicely
with her pale skin.
"Okay. Let's have a look at what she's got. Cut her clothes off.
Start with the pants."
Helen squirmed a bit, jangling the chains. She didn't fight too hard
though, since she had known this was coming anyway. The guard with
the knife strolled over, a faint hint of a smile showing on his face.
He winked at her, then knelt down in front of her and went to work.
He slipped the blade of the knife into the waistband of her pants, by
her right hip, and slid it slowly down, neatly slicing them open along
the side. The fabric slipped away a bit, revealing the side of her
bare leg. It looked even better than the Master had expected. He was
already beginning to get a hard on going as the guard repeated the
process on the other side. As he finished cutting, the pants fell
off, revealing Helen's bare legs and black g-string. There was a
Celtic knot tattoo around the top of her right thigh.
"Nice panties. Guess you were hoping to get some last night, eh?
Have no fear... you will. Guard... I'm dying to see those
gravity-defying tits. Get rid of that t-shirt. Cut from the back,
though... preserve the suspense a little."
Helen gritted her teeth. The guard moved around behind her she felt
the fabric of her shirt stretch, and heard the fabric tearing as the
knife slid down. Having cut open the back, the guard slit the sleeves
and collar so the shirt could be pulled off. There was a moment of
anticipation, then Helen saw the master give a little nod. The guard
pulled on her shirt, and it slid neatly away. Her breasts swung free,
and did indeed seem to defy gravity, jutting forward, and hanging down
only slightly. The skin of her breasts was even paler than her face;
evidently, she was not a big fan of tanning. Her nipples and areolas
were a light brown; they were already starting to harden in the cool
air. They were a little smaller than the Master would have liked,
only about average, but were otherwise quite nice. Helen bit her
lower lip and stared back defiantly. She was obviously not the
self-conscious type, as no hint of a blush showed on her pale cheeks.
"Well, let's not delay the inevitable any longer, shall we? Lose the
g-string."
The knife made short work of the panties. Two quick flicks of the
wrist, and they fell away. The Master chuckled a little bit, and the
guards couldn't suppress their smiles. Helen had no pubic hair, as
she waxed regularly. Her flawless porcelain skin continued unbroken,
straight down to where it split apart into her outer labia. She had a
fairly attractive pussy, with slightly larger-than-average inner labia
that peeked out a the better part of a centimeter, like wrinkled
flower petals.
"Ah," said the Master, leering at her, "a baldy, eh? A bit of a
pity, really... I like to see how girls react when I take their short
and curlies away from them. Being that exposed makes a lot of them
feel so vulnerable. It's cute. But I guess a slut like you is
already used to it."
Now Helen did blush, and broke eye contact, hanging her head at the
Master's humiliating words. This provoked a ripple of laughter from
the Master and his guards. A single tear slid down her cheek.
"You surely chose this one well, guys," said the Master, "What a
body! I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with her.
Almost a pity that my policy is not to lay a finger on my girls until
they've had a day to think about what's going to happen to them. But
rules are rules. Anyway, let's have a look at the other one, shall
we? Look up, little girl. Look me in the eyes."
Tina's body convulsed with a sob, but she didn't raise her head. The
Master gestured to one of the guards, who grabbed her hair and pulled
her head up. Tina hesitantly met the Master's gaze, and when the
guard released her hair, she kept her head up. Compared to Helen,
Tina was a beanpole. She was 5'9", but couldn't weigh more than about
145 pounds. As opposed to Helen's sexy curves, Tina was built more
like a model. Her legs were very long, and her waist very thin. She
was also showing off her legs, but with a short, red dress, rather
than tight pants. Her breasts, although not insignificant, were much
smaller than Helen's. She had a long neck and fine, delicate
features. Her hair was a very light blonde, was very straight, and
hung down to the middle of her breasts. The guard brushed her hair
back from her face so the Master could get a better look. Young as
she was, she looked younger still. The Master figured that if she was
still free, she'd be getting carded at bars well into her 20s. He
asked for her name and she gave it.
"She doesn't have much to hide under that dress, but let's see it
anyway."
The guard with the knife swaggered over to Tina and wiggled his
eyebrows at her. She flushed beet red.
"Oh look," said the Master, "she's shy. What a strange pair of
friends, a slut and a prude. Well, blushing won't do you any good."
A few cuts of the knife, and the red dress fell away. To everyone's
surprise, Tina was also wearing sexy underwear: a lacy red bra and
matching panties. In reality, Tina usually wore much more
conservative underwear, but these were a birthday present from Helen,
who had been determined that Tina should try to get herself a
boyfriend.
"My, my. Could it be that all this modesty is just an act? No...
you can't fake a blush like that; look how red she is, it goes right
down to the top of her tits. Matches the underwear. Nice underwear
too. A pity to destroy it. Guard, the bra."
What Tina's breasts lacked in quantity, they made up for in quality.
They looked to be at the small end of a C cup, maybe even just a B.
Even firmer than Helen's, by virtue of their small size, hey had a
graceful upward curve to them, like the silhouettes on strip club
signs. Perfectly placed at their apex were her nipples. Slightly
larger and several shades darker than Helen's, they poked out and
slightly upwards.
"I take it back what I said about nothing to hide... this is quite a
nice surprise. I'm sure to have some fun with those. I think they're
missing something, though. Nipple rings would look great. A couple
of small, gold ones."
Tina gasped in horror, her eyes widening, "No... please!"
"Tina, Tina, Tina... what did I say about speaking unless asked a
question? Since we're just getting started, I'll let you off the hook
this time, but please, for your own sake, shut the fuck up. As for
the nipple rings, well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it,
won't we? In the meantime, let's have a look at your pussy."
Tina whimpered a bit and squeezed her eyes shut as the guard began to
cut off her last remaining scrap of clothing. The Master held up a
hand and the guard stopped.
"Tina. Did I tell you to close your eyes? Open them up and look at
me. Good. Keep looking into my eyes as our friend here takes away
your last bit of modesty, okay?"
Tina bit her lip and whimpered again as the guard finished cutting
off her panties. The Master slowly walked forward, towards Tina,
maintaining eye contact. When he stopped, he was just inches from her
face.
"Now," he said, slowly kneeling down in front of her, "let's see what
you've got that's so hopelessly embarrassing."
A couple of tears found their way out of Tina's spent tear ducts, and
rolled down her face as she looked down at the Master's face, just a
couple of inches from the most private part of her body. She pressed
her legs together as tightly as possible.
"No, no. We can't have that. No hiding anything from the Master,
please."
The Master pushed a button on the box in his pocket, and the chains
holding Tina's wrists went slack, her arms lowering slightly.
"Guards. Please release her feet, and reattach them to the wider set
of rings. She must be taught that there is no such thing as modesty
or privacy in this building."
The guards did as he asked, unfastening the rings that held her
ankles. She continued to hold her legs tightly together, but each
guard grabbed a leg, and began to pull them outwards. She fought, but
couldn't hope to compare with the guards' strength. Soon, her feet
were spread a good three feet apart and the guards refastened her
ankle cuffs to a new set of rings. Her body had to lower to move her
legs out like that, so the chains over her head were taught again,
pulling her hands high.
The Master hunched lower and slid in under her, his head between her
legs, just below her pussy. Unlike Helen's, Tina's inner labia were
very small and concealed within the outer ones. Even with her legs
spread as they were, the outer labia remained fairly tightly together,
not showing much of what lay within.
"I know that my own rules dictate that I can't touch her until
tomorrow, but I'd really like to see what her lips are hiding. You,"
the Master said, gesturing at one of the guards, "please take one of
her outer labia in each hand and spread them for me."
"No..." whined Tina, shaking with humiliation.
"You know," said the Master, as the guard moved in behind her and
reached between her legs to do as he'd been told, "I bet she's still a
virgin. We're probably the first guys outside her family to see this
cute little cunt of hers. Well, am I right, Tina?"
"Not going to tell us, eh? Well, you will in the interview... I'm
looking forward to hearing the answer. But let's see what you've got
here."
The Master spent nearly five minutes meticulously examining her tiny
inner labia, her little pink clit and the scrunched up opening to her
inside, making lewd comments the whole time. In reality, he saw
everything he wanted to see in the first 10 seconds, but loved how
humiliated he was making Tina. Eventually, he got bored and decided
to move things along.
"Enough. Let her go, guard. I'm dying to ask these girls a bit
about themselves. You, go get the serum. Let's start the entrance
interview."