Author's Note: This is my first story and I hope you enjoy reading it. I would dearly love to improve my writing and so if you guys have any feedback or suggestions whatsoever I'd be delighted to hear them, positive or negative. Many thanks. - Josh


Chapter 1

Olivia smiled as she stared into man's exotic brown eyes, only half listening as he spoke. She was lost in her own world, mesmerised by how he looked at her as if she were the only girl in the world. He was talking to them all, his eyes taking in each one so his look was only a few moments. But it felt like hours. Olivia couldn't remember why they were here or how they had started talking to him but it didn't seem to matter. Her classmates, the trip, her studies and especially the time were all forgotten, so engrossed was she by his stories and his astonishingly handsome face. She couldn't help but play with her hair as she stared at his light brown features, his chiselled jaw, his big brown eyes, and looking down, his bulging biceps and t-shirt worn stretched to its limit. Biting her lip slightly, she imagined what was underneath, thoughts of spending the night with him fluttering through her head. She was not alone either. All three girls were entranced by the mysterious man.

They were quite a sight too. Their coach had arrived in Munich for a few days on a two week school trip taking in the sights and culture of Germany. Given some free time, the three 18 year olds were exploring the city before going on to Berlin. Sitting in front of the man, Olivia was a relatively small girl, just a shade over 5 foot, but her lack of height did not make her any less attractive. Hanging just below her shoulders, her blonde hair set off her large blue eyes perfectly. She was beautiful with a face that could go from innocent to sexy in the blink of an eye, a mouth always ready to break into a broad smile. Her infectious personality and her cheeky sense of humour made her popular with both men and women. Men of course loved her good looks and body. She kept in shape playing casual sport and her body was fit and firm without being muscular. Her breasts were a full C cup although on her small frame they looked much bigger. Coupled with her petite arse, she always got men's interest, particularly this evening when she wore shorts which showed off her shapely legs. She was attractive and knew it, often using it to get what she wanted from boys, earning her a reputation as a bit of a tease. But she enjoyed sex even if she kept it discreet. Few people knew what she got up to. As she leaned forward, her loose fitting top hung down, tantalising him with a glimpse of her substantial cleavage, and she wondered if tonight was the night for a holiday romance.

On her left sat Lucy, at 5'10 the tallest of the three and different to Olivia in every way. Her long black hair was worn back in a ponytail, showing off her high cheekbones, piercing green eyes and inviting blowjob lips. If Olivia had the face of a cheeky though gorgeous girl next door, Lucy's model good looks were much harsher, giving her a superior air she liked to play up to. Though she too was popular, she didn't have the same universal appeal as her friend though men's interest was much more frank. She was known to fuck a lot, usually with older confident men, and disdained the drooling boys her own age. Her height was accentuated by long legs which seemed to go on forever and her small breasts still had enough cleavage for the whole package. As an accomplished cross-country runner she was very fit and her round tight arse highlighted her sex appeal. She had already shagged two different men this trip and the attentions of this stranger were more than welcome.

The third girl was Holly whose angelic innocent face and shortish brown hair made her seem some three or four years younger. But anyone seeing her chest knew she was a woman. Even on her 5'7 frame, her Fs looked huge, perfectly symmetrical and without a hint of sag. But Holly refused to show them off, hiding her considerable assets under sweatshirts and loose clothes. It didn't avoid the leers, particularly from younger boys at school who often looked in the windows of the sixth form common room to glimpse her much coveted breasts. Given her large bust she worked hard to keep her figure. Playing in the same hockey team as Olivia and spending time in the gym gave her a beautiful hourglass figure, making her cover-up even more frustrating. The loose fitting dress she wore that day was one of her most revealing, showing off her legs although still keeping her chest well covered. Despite her excellent body, Holly's embarrassment at the size of her breasts plus her natural shyness meant she didn't have much luck with men. Though she didn't consider herself a prude and was perfectly happy to talk about sex even with boys, her belief that they only wanted one thing meant she was still a virgin. But tonight, out with her closest friends and with this gorgeous man in front of her, she contemplated changing that.

Olivia sipped her drink, listening intently to the man talk in a thick European accent while thinking about the body she imagined under his thin t-shirt. It wasn't the first bar the girls had been in that night but they decided it looked nice and sophisticated, and in a city they did not know they thought it wise to stay on the main street. Lucy immediately started flirting with the barman, a dark handsome chap who looked very flattered by her attention. Waiting with Holly for their drinks, Olivia looked around trying to spot anyone interesting or handsome. When she saw him she couldn't take her eyes away and when he looked back, had blushed uncontrollably. When he came over and introduced himself she barely contained herself, covering it by her natural bounciness but accepting gladly when he offered to buy drinks and invited them to his table. Unsurprisingly, it was Olivia, the most talkative of the girls, who ascertained his name (Mehmet), his age (25), his nationality (Turkish) and how long he had lived in Munich (3 years). Since he was a stranger, she knew they must be careful about how much they told him but his relaxed attitude and rugged good looks put her at ease. She had told him more than she thought wise but nothing dangerous. That first drink, not their first of the night, was followed by a second and after half an hour of conversation, Olivia started to feel both more drunk and more certain about the night to come.

"Hey," she said, interrupting him, "I need to go to the toilet, ok?"

"Yes, yes," Mehmet replied, "I will get more drinks?"

"No," Lucy replied almost sternly, "we'll get them when we get back."

"Ah, smart girl. I am stranger after all."

"Ok," Olivia had been about to accept the offer but was grateful her friend was more sensible, "see you soon!" The girls went to the toilet and Mehmet sat back with his beer and took a long drink. He then pulled out his phone and began to type.

In the toilets, the girls took stock of what had already been a good evening. "I'm going to shag him," Lucy stated flatly, not even breaking into a smile as she adjusted her make-up in the mirror.

"You'll have to fight us off," Olivia laughed as she came out of a cubicle.

"No problem," Lucy, turning to face her friend, "or...?"

"You mean..." Olivia hesitated, making sure they were on the same page, "both of us?"

"Both," Lucy smiled, "or all three? Holly?"

"Well," came her voice from a cubicle, "when in Rome."

"Haha, go Hols!"

"We could see if he has a friend," Lucy suggested, "so none of us get bored ...?"

"How would we get them into the hotel?" asked Olivia, still not entertaining the idea entirely seriously, "I'm not sneaking out."

"Such a swot," Lucy said with faux disdain.

"Slut." Holly replied, emerging from the cubicle.

"We'll just go back out and see what happens, girls. Could be a night to remember!"

Waiting for them to return, Mehmet contemplated his luck. He was often in this bar looking for girls and he didn't have much trouble finding and fucking them. His eastern charm, good looks and sculpted body meant he had the pick of women in Munich's bars. But as he ran his hand through his dark tousled hair, he thought about what he had found that night. Three drop dead gorgeous English girls who all seemed up for a good time, not in Munich long and each finding him very attractive. They were younger than the girls he usually met but he'd enjoyed speaking to them, particularly the blonde. He was even more looking forward to fucking them given how different they were, from the quirky little blonde to the leggy sultry one and finally the shy one with those huge tits. Sending a quick text, he signalled the barman who gave him a thumbs up and stood when he saw his targets returning.

After another 45 minutes, Olivia felt very drunk. It was a bit strange since she'd only had two more drinks but she was still enjoying herself. She could tell Lucy felt it too, her usual sexy and sultry demeanour replaced by a much happier giddier girl who flirted outrageously with the barman who'd come over to join them. Coming out of her shell, Holly was talking to Mehmet. Indeed, they were all having a good time and so Olivia forgot her unease, finished her drink and rejoined the conversation.

"Shit," Holly exclaimed, "we have to....to...be back."

"Back where?" Olivia replied, feeling equally disorientated.

"Hotel."

"Nah, we can stay a bit," Lucy said as she broke off from the barman who was busy touching her hair and whispering in her ear.

"No, Lucy!" Olivia shouted so much louder than she thought that people on adjacent tables turned round to look, "otherwise Miss.....Miss...Wallig will..."

"Wallace!" Holly seemed proud to have corrected her friend.

"Hey, girls," Mehmet said, coherent despite his broken English, "we get you taxi."

"No, no, we want to stay," Lucy pleaded though her eyes seemed glazed.

"No, we get you into hotel," Mehmet stated authoritatively, "maybe after, we meet you, yes?"

"Ok, baby," Lucy winked then suddenly stopped, as if realising how drunk she was.

Mehmet and the barman helped the girls into a car waiting outside. If the girls had not been so out of it they would have seen that this was not a taxi but a luxury car with blacked out windows and certainly would not have got in, especially with two strange men. But they could barely support themselves as they were pushed into the car. Unable to sit straight, Olivia rested her face against the leather seats, a strand of saliva running down her cheek. By now they all couldn't move and neither Lucy nor Olivia noticed when Holly was literally thrown on top of them. Closing the door, the two men got in the front, started the car and drove off into the night.

Olivia's head pounded and she barely remembered anything from last night. Her last memory was sitting in the bar with her friends...and that strange man. When she tried wetting her dry mouth, she felt what seemed a large piece of plastic and, failing to spit it out, suddenly began to panic. She opened her eyes but everything was pitch black and when she tried moving her arms, all she heard was a clinking sound above her. Increasingly panicked, she tried moving her legs but they were tied together ... and not touching anything. And she couldn't move her hands, hearing the same clinking sound with every movement. Now she really panicked. She tried screaming but could only make a muffled whine. Again she screamed, again a muffled whine ... and that clinking sound. Her head still pounding, Olivia stopped to think about her situation. She could not remember anything after the bar, anything after that man. Maybe she was at his house, maybe she was safe, just so hung-over she could barely move? Maybe this was a dream she would shortly wake from?

Then she heard another muffled whimper to her right, accompanied by clinking. Listening intently, she again heard the rattle of metal on metal and a stifled moan. She responded in kind, hoping to communicate with whoever made the sound. Then in a moment of silence, as Olivia's mouth and throat began to burn, she heard another moan to her left and suddenly a terrible thought occurred to her. She had heard two distinct sounds, one on either side. Given her last memories of the night before and the people she was with, she had a truly awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Suddenly there was a creak and the sound of echoing footsteps. A small chink of light momentarily allowed Olivia to glimpse her surroundings, not enough to see much but enough to let her know this was really happening. Gradually the footsteps resolved into more than one pair of feet and different types of shoes, growing louder and more directional until she knew they were coming toward her. Olivia held her breath, as if by remaining perfectly still she could avoid whatever terror was before her. A few tense moments of silence. Then...

"Lights!"

The sudden sound cut through Olivia as much as the blinding light that appeared a moment later. Having been in pitch blackness, even this moderately bright light almost blinded her and she took a moment to get used to it. When she finally did, she opened her eyes ... and her heart sank.

The room's contents filled Olivia with panic. The light didn't illuminate much of the room, which looked huge despite the dark shadows in the corners. What she could see terrified her. To her right, just in front and facing slightly inwards was Holly. Though dressed in the same loose summer dress and sandals of the night before, she was hanging by her wrists from a chain attached to a large hook in the ceiling, her wrists and ankles tied together with a thick white rope, her feet hovering just inches off the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto her dress just above her breasts, leaving her usual joyful brown eyes that Olivia loved so much a pained red. In her mouth a large red ball gag stretched her jaw obscenely wide. Feeling it as the same thing in her mouth, Olivia knew the discomfort her friend felt. Turning her head, she saw Lucy in the same position, wearing the same plunging dress from the bar but her usual sultry eyes now puzzled and frightened. In the rest of the room was all sorts of apparatus, equipment, toys and devices. Standing out most was what looked like a modified wooden rocking horse, a device she recognised as a rack, a heavy wooden table with metal rings and stirrups upon which a car battery sat, and in a partly visible rack, a collection of whips. Her eyes shocked wide, Olivia couldn't even begin to guess what other horrors existed in the dark corners of the room but she had never been so scared. She hung her head, staring at the floor in front of her ... and saw the tip of a pair of shoes.

From the size of the black leather boots that rose steadily up her legs, criss-crossed with laces, in front of her was a woman. Just above the boots were fishnet stockings, held up by a pair of leather suspenders. Nothing covered the woman's genitals, her pussy being entirely visible, a thin triangle of fine blonde hair pointing into it. The woman's navel was displayed under a tight leather corset done up from the back which pushed her breasts together to form a very meagre cleavage. Rising from prominent collar bones, her long neck held the harshest and most unforgiving face Olivia had ever seen. With cheekbones so sharp they could cut, a small thin nose and almost snarling pursed mouth, her face showed no emotion. Her eyes caught Olivia's attention. They were relatively narrow but a bright brilliant green. And emotionless, so cold and unforgiving they looked dead. Even as they flitted from one hanging girl to the next, Olivia still felt her piercing stare. Looking late 30s, the woman was obviously older than the girls but still strikingly attractive without being beautiful, her wrinkles reduced by hair pulled back tightly into a bun at the back of her head. In her hand she carried a long thin black riding crop. On either side stood Mehmet and the bartender from the bar. Heavy set and tall, both wore black shirts and black trousers with shiny black shoes, and had the same expressionless face. Though the men were easily bigger than her, the woman's green eyes set against her pale skin and the black she was wearing sent a chill down Olivia's spine. The woman stood for what seemed an eternity before speaking.

"Hello, girls. My name is Greta Schweinberg. Welcome to my home."

She spoke deliberately as if savouring every word, in an obviously European and probably German accent but with almost an American twang, taking long pauses between each sentence and looking each girl in the eye several times.

"You have met my friends, Mehmet and Hasan. They saw you in the bar in Munich and liked you. They thought I would like you so they spiked your drinks and brought you here. I must say they were right. I do like you. I am sure I will enjoy you."

This last sentence elicited a whimper from all three girls. Till now they had clung to a faint hope that this was a dream or at the very least a horrible practical joke. But hearing this woman speak, every word dripping like venom, made it all too real.

"You belong to me now. I will do whatever I want with you. I will hurt you. I will abuse you. I will let Mehmet and Hasan fuck you until you cannot take anymore. Then they will fuck you again. You will learn to do whatever I want you to. If I tell you to suck their dicks, you will do it. If I tell you to lick my cunt, you will do it. If I tell you to torture your friend, you will do it. Failure to obey will have more serious consequences than you can possibly imagine."

All three girls were now crying. The woman did not react to her sobbing property. Her vulgar words emphasised the monster standing before them and how much trouble they were in. Her English was practised, impeccable and spoken so chillingly that even Mehmet and Hasan were stunned. With no emotion at all, she continued.

"Learning your place will take time. You are English. Arrogant. Soft. You do not know how to behave. That will not be tolerated. You will learn self control. Discipline. You will learn how to please both men and women. Learning will be hard. It will hurt. You will feel pain you cannot imagine. Even if you behave I may still hurt you. I enjoy it. Mehmet and Hasan enjoy it. They are Turkish. They hate Western women. You will call me mistress and them your masters. Welcome to Schweinberg Castle."

For a moment, Greta allowed the girls to take in what she'd said. Olivia's head was swimming and not just from the night before. She couldn't believe what she'd heard. They had been kidnapped by this woman merely to be hurt. She had read about this in newspapers and seen horror films but had never imagined it happening to her on a school trip with her best friends. But she didn't get much time to think about it.

"We'll start with the blonde."

Mehmet and Hasan moved forward. Hasan grabbed Holly and pushed her back, the hook obviously on some kind of rail, until she was behind Olivia. Olivia noticed that he pushed her from the front, against her breasts. When Mehmet did likewise with Lucy, Olivia was left hanging by herself, the woman staring at her menacingly. When the two Turks returned to her side, Greta just looked intently then nodded. Pulling a flick knife, Mehmet walked toward Olivia whose eyes opened wide, her screams stifled by the ball gag. Hasan walked behind her and pushed her forward on the rail toward the woman then turned her round so she could see her friends looking at her. Bringing the knife up to her face, Mehmet brushed it against her cheek, the cold steel making her flinch. He smiled, tracing the knife slowly down her face, following its contours, down her neck and onto her chest. He paused then brought the knife down quickly, parting the front of her vest to reveal a plain white bra and the cleavage she had cheekily flaunted the night before. Mehmet winked at her and pulled off the fabric, tearing the shoulders away easily and letting it fall to the floor.

Bringing the knife above her breasts, he traced the outline of her bra with the tip then, pointing it down between her breasts, traced down her cleavage till it hooked beneath the fabric of her bra. When he pulled the knife towards him, her bra parted like the Red Sea, the cups falling to either side, her breasts bouncing into view. Looking huge on her small frame, they hung perfectly, topped by small perfectly centred pale nipples erect with fear. Both men's mouths opened a fraction as they saw her assets for the first time though Mehmet couldn't help but steal a glance at Holly. Cutting the shoulder straps left her bra crumpled in the same pile as her top. Moving his free hand underneath her left breast as if weighing it, he squeezed, then bounced it up and down as if getting used to how it felt. All the while, he used the knife tip in his right hand to toy with her other nipple, pressing the blade against it without cutting the skin.

"Play with them later, Mehmet," the woman snapped, "let me see the rest of her."

Reluctantly moving his hands from her tits, he traced the knife tip down her toned stomach, enjoying how each muscle flinched away from the metal. Meanwhile Hasan pulled out one side of the denim shorts Olivia wore, creating space between her hip and the fabric. Tracing the knife into the gap, Mehmet sliced through the garment, making surprisingly short work of even the thick denim. Teaming up again, they cut the other side so that only the crotch of the shorts sandwiched between Olivia's bound legs kept it on her body. Slipping his thumb beneath the hem of the shorts and just grazing the top of Olivia's pussy through her underwear, he then tugged hard forward. The coarse fabric ripped across the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and Olivia squealed as her legs exploded in pain. The men smiled as they heard her muffled whimper, letting the ruined garment drop to the floor with the rest of her clothes. Only her white underwear now gave her any privacy, her tits already bare for all to see. Once again she felt the cold knife against her skin and when Mehmet made short work of her underwear and pulled it through her legs, she again whimpered as the fabric scraped her sore inner thighs. Now Olivia was naked save for her shoes, all her charms on display, her breasts, her legs, her stomach, her arse and just the top of her pussy, in front of her friends, these two strange brutes and that woman.

"Move!" Greta cracked the crop against her leather boots in emphasis. Promptly moving behind her, the men's eyes never left the girl's limp nude body. "Let's see what I'm working with."

Greta moved toward Olivia who kept her head down the entire time, bringing the riding crop to her face and tapping her chin as if to demand that she look at her. Olivia was too scared to defy her and looked straight into the woman's eyes. Greta was very impressed. The girl was naturally beautiful, not using too much make up like so many women did these days. As she moved the riding crop down her breasts and onto her stomach, she could tell she took care of her body. Greta moved to inspect the rear of her new toy, her boots echoing on the hard stone floor, her crop trailing across Olivia's soft skin. The view from behind was just as good. Though small, Olivia's legs were slender, topped by a beautiful peachy round arse. Greta smiled as she tapped each cheek with her crop then brought it down hard on Olivia's right arse cheek. Despite the gag, her scream was very clear, making all three kidnappers smile and the other girls whimper.

"Just a little taster," Greta smirked as she moved a little closer, touching the developing red mark.

Trailing her hand slowly across the girl's cheeks, her long sharp nails just grazing the skin, she then ran her index finger down the cleft of Olivia's buttocks, pushing her hand through the girl's legs until she felt her pussy. Running her finger up and down the lips a few times, she enjoyed how her muscles tightened as she went close to her opening. Moving to the front, tracing her long nails across the girl as she did so, Greta traced up towards the girls breasts using just the tips of the fingers on her right hand. Olivia flinched again as Greta played with her nipple, rolling the sensitive little bud between her thumb and forefinger. While her right hand toyed with the nipple, Greta tossed her riding crop aside and ran the fingers of her left hand up Olivia's legs toward her pussy, rubbing up and down her opening and making sure to use her sharp nails on the sensitive flesh. As she slipped a finger into Olivia's hole, she flicked her nipple with her right hand, catching the flesh with her finger tips. Olivia moaned in a mixture of shame and pain as this woman did whatever she wanted to her. The invasion of her pussy was almost unbearable and the scratching of its sensitive walls made it worse. Greta pulled out and ran her fingers to Olivia's clit, toying with it just as she toyed with her nipple, before abruptly stopping.

"Very nice," Greta snapped, "very nice indeed. Mehmet tells me you like to talk, Olivia. You will not talk yet. You will see what you are good for. All you are good for. From now on, all you do is please us. I am sure you will be very good at it. Now boys, who's fucking this one?"

Mehmet looked at Hasan, both knowing that whoever found the girls went first. While Mehmet undressed, Hasan went to Olivia with a knife. Seeing him coming, she knew she was about to get fucked and tried desperately to move away, the chain above her clinking. But there was no escaping even his one-handed grip on her legs as he cut the rope binding her ankles. With her legs free Olivia tried to kick but he was too strong and her struggles only created a thin film of sweat that made her body glisten in the dim light. Meanwhile Mehmet had stripped to his underwear and Olivia looked up just in time to see his cock. Her eyes widened when she saw its size, springing up as he pulled down the waistband. It was at least 9" long and almost as thick as her wrist. She'd had sex before and was used to the feel of a cock inside her but knew she had never had anything like this.

As he approached, Hasan went behind and pressed his body against hers, moving his hands between her legs and yanking them outwards with surprising force, splaying them wide and displaying her cunt to everyone in the room. She blushed with shame as she saw Mehmet looking at it, a smirk on his face, her friends hanging their heads in shame for their friend. All the while the woman's penetrating stare looked straight through her. Mehmet came closer, the tip of his circumcised cock centimetres from her hole. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out what was about to happen. He slapped her.

"No, pretty baby," he smiled as he said it, "you look at me." He held his dick in his hand, precum dripping from its end. Looking up at him, she thought back to the night before when she had thought excitedly about what was underneath his shirt. She had been right, he had an almost perfect body, abs perfectly defined, chest and shoulders strong, arms the stuff of a girl's dreams. But now all that muscle was terrifying and the glint in his eyes as he looked into hers caused tears, not lust.

"Don't cry," he said, moving one hand up to her left breast and slowly squeezing it, "we are going to have the fun."

With his right hand he began to massage her pussy, as if trying to get her ready for him but he didn't try too hard. He really wanted her to be dry for this one. Although it might be a bit painful for him, it would be worse for her. This first fuck was to show her what she was in for, what her life would be like now. The more it hurt the better.

"MMMMPHHH," Olivia tried to plead with her eyes and a muffled whine but he was not interested.

"OK," came the reply, "just me." With that he moved his cock to her cunt, the tip resting just inside. Hasan held her legs open in a loose grip the whole time, staying firmly behind her to give Mehmet something to fuck against and get deeper into her.

"Do it."

With that, Mehmet rammed home. Olivia was shocked by the brutality of the thrust. There was no easing in, no foreplay. In one thrust his shaft was entirely buried in her pussy. She felt its full force as well. Hasan was so strong he hadn't budged an inch on impact and the power of the man's thrust went straight up her dry hole. He held it there for a moment, savouring the feel of her tight young cunt then pulled out, rasping her walls again. Withdrawing until just the tip was inside, he slammed forward again. When Olivia closed her eyes, he put his mouth to her tit and bit her nipple hard.

"Look at me, bitch." Olivia stared into her rapist's eyes as he pulled out and thrust in again. His cock was the biggest she'd ever had, insistently prodding her cervix and making her feel too full. And without lubrication, her hole stretched to its limit, his cock felt like fiery sandpaper rubbing her pussy raw, alight with pain. So although she kept looking at him, her tears stopped her from seeing his face. As he plunged into her again and again, she could scarcely believe the charming man from last night was now treating her as nothing more than a piece of meat.

"Good, Mehmet," came the emotionless voice, "make it hurt."

Mehmet picked up the pace of his thrusts, pounding into her like a sledgehammer. The lack of lube made each thrust painful for him but his pain was nothing compared to the girl's. It was not the first time he had done this and his enjoyment of a girl's pain was one reason he was in this position now. He savoured the tears rolling down Olivia's cheeks as he pounded in and out of her, her breasts bouncing wildly up and down with each thrust. Then he grabbed a tit with one hand, kneading it roughly, sinking his fingers into her flesh as he pounded in and out of her. And with the other, he pinched her nipple tightly, pulling it away from her chest.

Olivia was in so much pain. The piston pounding her pussy felt it would set her on fire and if it didn't do that, that it would burrow right through her. Her back ached from being slammed against Hasan who stood unmoving throughout the rape. Now Mehmet turned his attention to her breasts, painfully mauling the right one and tugging so hard on her left that she thought it might rip off. When she felt wetness inside her, she thought for a moment her body had betrayed her. But she soon realised this was not the case. That she was now bleeding panicked her even more. She could tell from Mehmet's satisfaction that he knew what had happened as well.

"She is bleeding," Mehmet crowed with unmistakable pride.

"Virgin?"

"No, no, she has had cock before."

"Good boy," Greta barely acknowledged this new information, "don't stop."

Knowing how much pain he was causing spurred Mehmet on. He wanted to do more than hurt. He wanted to humiliate her. And so the hand tugging her nipple moved up to her head, stroking her cheek delicately as if making love to her for real. Moving his hand behind her head, he pushed it toward him until their faces were mere centimetres apart then leaned in and kissed her, first on her mouth, the ball gag still in and protruding, and then on top of her head as if they really were lovers. All the time his cock drove into her, showing no mercy. Placing his forehead against hers, he held for a second and then, his fingers wrapped in her soft blonde hair, pulled back hard.

The pain of having her hair pulled and her head snapped back was almost a relief for Olivia since for a split second she didn't have to look at him. She could scarcely believe this was happening and were it not for the burning pain in her pussy and tits she might have tried convincing herself it was a dream. But it was real. She was shocked that somebody got so much pleasure from her pain, how her rapist acted so tender to tease her, emphasising how far the reality was from her fantasy of the night before. But her relief was short lived as her head was jerked back to face him.

Mehmet knew he was getting close and he pushed her head down to look into her eyes as he came. Thrusting deep into her cunt, pushing as far in as he could, he felt his whole body twitch as wave after wave of cum shot into her womb. Holding her head close to his as the last strands of semen shot out of his cock and into her abused cunt, he winked at her then pulled out his softening dick, a pink trail of blood and cum connecting them. He milked his last remaining jizz onto the outside of her pussy, savouring the juice pouring out of her hole and onto the pile of clothes beneath her. Picking up the shred of cloth that was once Olivia's bra, he wiped the mess off his now limp cock before tapping her cheek, pinching her nipple and bouncing her breast up and down a little, before walking back behind Greta. Hasan promptly dropped Olivia like a sack of potatoes, her shoulders almost wrenching out of their sockets as her arms once again took all her weight. He too then stood behind the German.

"Well done, Mehmet," speaking in the same emotionless voice she had the whole time, she turned toward Olivia, "do you think she enjoyed that?"

"No," Mehmet replied with a smile, "but I did."

"I'm sure you did," Now she spoke directly to the girl, "and I'm glad you didn't. If you think that was bad, you have a lot to learn. Look at me when I speak to you!" This last was accompanied by a heavy slap that set Olivia's face on fire. She had almost been in a trance since her rape so as not to think about what had happened but the stinging power of the blow brought her round immediately and she desperately tried to look at the woman despite the stars dancing in her eyes.

"I hope you now realise you are no longer who you thought you were. No longer Olivia. No longer a pretty cheeky little English who does what she wants. You do not control your own body. You do nothing without my permission. You do not speak. You do not piss. You do not shit. You do not cum. Not without my permission. The only reason you breathe is because I allow it. Is that understood?"

Olivia was too shocked to even nod her head. Still reeling from the blow, this speech would have started her crying if she had any tears left. But she knew she had agree or the consequence would be even more severe. Slowly, meekly, she nodded. "Good," Greta lightly tapped the same cheek she had struck with such force, "soon we'll take that out of your mouth and you can address me properly. But not yet."

She turned and strode back to the two men. The purpose with which she walked was chilling especially since her voice hadn't changed at all. Greta had of course enjoyed watching Mehmet rape Olivia. She knew what the girl had thought besides the pain of the fucking. It was a shock that the kind gentle man she had met would rape her so brutally, that the man she had thought to have sex with, who she would quite readily have given herself to, had taken such pleasure in causing her pain. It was the first of many, many enjoyable steps on the road to breaking these girls. But Greta wouldn't rush, she would take her time, savouring every moment of pain she and the men inflicted on their new toys. She whispered something in Hasan's ear and he nodded.

"Then hang her back up, we've got much more to do."

Hasan and Mehmet moved toward Olivia who tried to back away. But this time the men seemed more relaxed, less intimidating. They completely ignored Olivia as she tried to move her legs away, acting as if she were only an object they had to move. First Mehmet took off her shoes, her last remaining item of clothing, then they took the rope binding her wrists off the hook above her and put her on the floor. Working quickly, they cut the rope binding her wrists, pulled her arms down and bound her wrists together behind her back. Mehmet then tied her heels together, bent her legs back until her heels touched her wrists and then tied her wrists and legs to each other. Meanwhile Hasan tied some rope around her stomach before tying the loose end to her hands and feet, leaving a small loop at the end. Tying the girl's hair into a pony tail, he then tied it to the knot in the middle. They then lifted Olivia up and put the loop round the hook, leaving her suspended in the air. It had taken less than a minute.

Olivia couldn't believe how quickly she had been brought down, tied up and hung back up by the two men. Nor could she believe their callousness, treating her like a joint of meat in a butcher's shop. Her legs and arms were tightly tied behind her back and try as she might she couldn't move. Her head had been tied back so she could only look up, her face pointed straight at Greta. The only relief was the rope around her midriff which took the strain off her shoulders for the first time. So skilful was the binding that her body was perfectly parallel to the ground with her breasts hanging beneath her. Greta pushed her slightly to check her bonds, flicked her nipples a few times and then strode back to the other girls.

"Ok then," again she spoke in the same tone, "who's next?"


Chapter 2 (added: 2015/09/23)

Lucy had been hanging motionless throughout Olivia's ordeal. She had attempted to shut it out, closing her eyes and trying desperately to pretend that none of it was happening. But the whimpers coming from her friend's mouth and the grunts of the man who was fucking her made it impossible to ignore. Lucy had resolved to watch what happened, to see if she could prepare herself for whatever she would have to endure. It broke her heart watching her friend go through the brutal rape. She was so used to seeing Olivia happy cheerful and cracking jokes, so much so that often her friends incessant positivity occasionally irritated her, but she could see all of that crushed as Mehmet bucked in and out of her. She shed tears for her friend, but she knew that worse was to come. She had always been the most streetwise of the three of them, illustrated by her reluctance to accept drinks in the bar, and she knew that just raping Olivia would not be enough for these people. The more she thought about it the more she cursed herself for getting into this position. How could she have been so stupid!? These were thoughts going through her head as she watched Olivia get trussed up in a bizarre position, and then the glare of that woman fell on her.

"Lucy," Greta said it as if she were hosting the world's most sadistic game show, "your turn."

Lucy snapped out of her self reflective mood at the mention of her name. Those green eyes were now looking straight into her own. Greta held her gave for a moment, before gesturing to Lucy to come closer. The girl looked confused, wondering how she was supposed to get herself over to this woman in her predicament. However, once she felt the hands on her arse she realised. Mehmet pushed Lucy along the rail until she was halfway between Olivia and Holly's hanging bodies. Hasan walked in front of her, surveying the lithe beauty in front of him.

"How do you like Hasan, Lucy?" Greta asked, keeping the same monotonous tone, "You seemed to like him last night. After an hour you were all over him. Typical English slut. Now you have seen what I have done to your friend. I don't think you will enjoy this any more."

Lucy was determined not to give this woman the satisfaction of seeing her upset, but it was very difficult. She had only been trying to enjoy herself, a night out with her girls, meeting some nice European men. How could this possibly have happened?

"You remember what I said last night baby?" Hasan asked, not even trying to contain his excitement, "I said I would rip that dress right off you, yes?"

Lucy didn't remember. She could just about remember the barman, but she didn't remember talking to him. But it didn't matter. She saw Mehmet coming up from the side with a large wooden piece of furniture. He placed it down between Hasan and Lucy, and she saw what it was. It looked like a modified wooden horse, with the neck and head removed, and a slightly raised bump at one end. It was heavy, having taking all of Mehmet's considerable strength to bring it over. It was quite high, about waist height, with straps near the bottom of all four legs.

Mehmet smiled as he looked first at the contraption, then at Lucy, images running through his mind. Hasan stepped over the horse and stood right in front of the girl. He ran his hand down her cleavage, but took less time than Mehmet on Olivia. Watching his friend fuck the cute little blonde had turned him on something fierce, and he couldn't wait to get started. He grabbed the fabric of her dress and tore downwards. The shoulder straps didn't give way immediately, digging into Lucy's skin, but final yank from Hasan and the fabric tore and slid down the girl's body into a crumpled heap on the floor. Even without her figure hugging dress she still looked gorgeous, barely an ounce of extra fat on her teenage body. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and Hasan couldn't wait to get her lace panties off and inspect was underneath. Not bothering with the knife Mehmet had used, Hasan simply tore them to shreds in his hands, exposing a fine patch of hair pointing toward her young tight little pussy. Hasan spent little time admiring her. He reached up and behind her and undid her bra clasp, and then without warning yanked forward, digging the straps into her back before the eventually gave way. His strength was impressive, turning her designer clothes into rags in a matter of seconds. Hasan took a moment to admire her breasts. On her tall body they looked small, but as Hasan demonstrated as he quickly fondled them, they were plenty big enough to have some fun with. Lucy hung still throughout the whole ideal, seemingly resigned to her fate. When Mehmet went down to her ankles and cut through the rope, she almost held her legs up waiting for the invasion into her vagina. But Mehmet did not repeat Olivia's routine. Instead he took her wrists off the hook and let her fall to the floor. The impact woke Lucy up, and the fear of not knowing what was about to happen was suddenly all over her.

Hasan and Mehmet moved quickly. Mehmet grabbed Lucy by her hips and lifted her onto the horse, while Hasan did the same with her shoulders, lining her up so that the raised bit went just under her pubic hair, and shoulders placed right up at the other end. She was a perfect fit, the length of the horse exactly matching her torso. Hasan then cut through the rope tying her wrists together and brought each arm down to a leather strap on one of the front legs, and tied them tightly. Mehmet then did the same with her legs, securing the straps just above her knee. A strap was then passed over her back, securing her in place, and then further straps on each of the legs were secured to rings in the floor. Lucy was now bent over the rudimentary apparatus, her arse sticking up tantalisingly in the air, the width of the horse causing her legs to spread wide, giving Mehmet behind a full view of her pussy and arsehole.

Greta stalked around Lucy, admiring her body from every angle. She ran the crop delicately over her back, teasing her by occasionally tapping her lightly with the tip of the crop. Moving round to the rear of the girl, Greta ran the crop over Lucy's exposed holes, each time causing the girl to twitch and buck a little. Just as she had with Olivia, Greta grazed the cheeks of Lucy's arse with the crop, before bringing it down hard, this time twice, both times savouring the whimper that followed. Tracing her crop across the girl once more she moved round to the front, signalling to Mehmet to pull the girl's head up so she could look her in the eye. Just out of her eye line, Lucy could see Hasan undressing.

"I am sure you have guessed what is about to happen," Greta's unwavering demeanour only grew more chilling, "but it is not the same as for your friend. Given your actions last night, Hasan will punish you in a way more deserving of your status."

Greta stepped out of the way to allow Lucy a clear view of Hasan. He stood in front of her, stripped of his clothes, his body sculpted like a Greek statue. But the only thing Lucy could see was his manhood. Hasan held his cock in his hand, spitting on hand and rubbing it up and down. It was huge. Lucy had seen Mehmet's just before he had plunged it into Olivia, and had thought that the biggest she had seen. But Hasan's easily surpassed that. It was a foot long, and thicker than anything Lucy had seen, even in porn. She may have had a lot of sex, but she was sure that it would not fit inside her. She also noticed he was spitting on it, as if lubricating himself. But if they hadn't done that for Olivia, why were they doing it for her?

Hasan walked up to the bound girl with a huge smile on his face, unable to contain his excitement. He had been waiting for this moment since he had flirted with her at the bar. As soon as he had seen the three girls walk in he had signalled to Mehmet, declaring that these would be the targets for the evening. He had expertly spiked their drinks, giving them just enough so as not to alarm them, but plenty that they could be easily taken back to the castle. He knew he would enjoy fucking all three of them, but it was this stuck up bitch that he had been waiting most eagerly for. As soon as he saw he had known her type, always walking around like they owned the place, sneering down her nose at every man she met. He walked up to her and rubbed the end of his dick over her face, relishing the look of disgust she tried to give him. He then moved towards her rear, trailing his free hand along her back, teasing her. Mehmet moved back behind Greta, as if taking up a better position to watch the show. Hasan stood at the back of the girl, admiring her two holes splayed open for him. Moving into his position, he ran the tip of his cock along the lips of her pussy, leaving one hand on the small of her back so he could feel her body tense. He spat on his cock one last time lined up at the entrance to her vagina, and then, just as he felt her relax as if to accept her fate, he moved his dick an inch higher.

As she felt the cock rubbing against her pussy lips, Lucy braced herself for the invading cock into her vagina. Her fists were clenched, her nails digging into her palms, her feet curled up as she prepared to be fucked. But as she felt the dick move away from her vagina, and over her puckered arsehole, she relaxed, completely thrown by this new development, and that split second was enough for Hasan to slip just the end of his cock in before her arsehole clenched again. Lucy panicked as she felt this unexpected invasion, clenching as quickly and firmly as she could, trying desperately to force Hasan's cock back out. Though she continued to shut her sphincter as hard as she could, she could not force him out.

"Hey baby," Hasan rested, waiting for Lucy to tire, "I said I would show you good time. It is shame it is not for you!"

Lucy would have gritted her teeth had it not been for the ball gag wedged in her mouth. She was stretching every sinew in her body to try to shut him out. She may have been with a lot of men, but she had not let any of them into her arse. She had never before seen a reason to let a man she barely knew use her like a porn star, and if she were ever to do it, it would only be with somebody she was serious about. To have this brute do it to her for the first time angered her, but perhaps worse for a girl as proud as Lucy, that a man was treating her just like a piece of meat, and that she could do nothing about it. Soon she couldn't hold out anymore. Hasan had his full weight bearing down on her, and when she relented for just a split second, he slid in another couple of inches. Again Lucy clenched, but with more of Hasan's cock inside her, she already knew her task was a hopeless one. She held for as long as she could, but once again she relented, and once again Hasan inched his way forward, before she used her last reserves of strength to tense once again.

Hasan groaned as he slid a little further into the girl. He was surprised how powerfully she was clenching her hole on his cock, stopping his slid into her virgin arsehole. But it didn't matter to him. He knew she wouldn't be able to keep him out forever, and each time she released for a split second he continued his inexorable progress deep into her bowels. But even if it took him an hour to get inside her he wouldn't care, he just savoured the warm clench of her cheeks against his cock, enjoying the sight of her back twitching as she tried desperately to keep him out. He was halfway buried inside her, and he thought for a moment about forcing his way in, but decided against it. It would be much better if she allowed him in, giving up the rights to her body almost voluntarily. However, he looked up to see Greta scowling at him, obviously impatient. And so, when Lucy next relaxed just a little, Hasan thrust forward with all his weight, and buried his cock up to the hilt.

Lucy couldn't believe the size of the dick that was buried inside her. It felt like her entire body would split in two as she felt it slide all the way into her, feeling Hasan's wiry pubic hair pressed up against her arse cheeks. The pain of his dick just being there was bad enough, and she could barely contain her tears as she thought about what it would be like once he started fucking in and out of her. As he moved his cock slowly back she tried to clench again, but she had no strength left. He pulled out until only the head remained inside her, and then rammed forward, this time all his weight and all 12" of his cock slamming into her rigid body, held firmly to the horse by the straps. The leather rubbed on her back, her wrists and her legs, her nipples and pussy rubbing slightly against the harsh wood. The slap of Hasan's swinging testicles against her inner thighs reverberated around the basement. He reached out to grab a chunk of her and yanked her head back as he pulled out and the slammed into her again, and again. The walls of her arse chute gripped him harder than anything he had experienced before, but with each thrust Lucy's resolve weakened, and soon Hasan was able to pump in and out of the poor girl faster and faster. With one hand gripping Lucy's long black hair tightly, he used the other to grip her left hip tightly as he slammed into her again and again.

Mehmet watched as Hasan fucked the brains out of the poor girl. In pulling her hair back Hasan had pulled the girls head up and allowed Greta and Mehmet to look into the little bitch's eyes. He loved watching when they did this, loved watching the fight as it slowly disappeared from their eyes. Looking at the anguish in her eyes as Hasan's giant prick fucked in and out of her arsehole had got him stirring again, though he knew he would have plenty of time to enjoy himself later. Greta, meanwhile, was enjoying it just as much. In fact, watching Mehmet rape the blonde girl, and now Hasan sodomise the tall one had her pussy on fire. But she had self restraint. There would be plenty of time for her fun later.

Hasan and Lucy, though, were too lost in their own world to care about their audience. The grip and warmth of Lucy's arsehole was pure ecstasy for Hasan, whose speed was now increasing with every thrust. His hips pounded into her arse cheeks with frightening force, shaking the heavy horse that Lucy was mounted on. His cock burrowed into her, pushing as deep into her bowels as it was possible to go.

While the rape was pure heaven for Hasan, it was absolute torture for Lucy. With every thrust forward the straps on her wrist, ankles and back were rubbing her skin raw. Her nipples and pussy were being rubbed mercilessly on the wood. Her hair felt like it was being pulled straight out of its roots, and her jaw ached from hours with the gag in. But that was nothing compared to the pain in her arse. The walls of arse chute were spread impossibly wide, and it felt like at any moment she might tear in two. Every time Hasan's huge member ploughed into her the pain in her arsehole worsened, his barely using any lubrication causing the burning on the inner walls to grew worse and worse. And as each stroke got quicker and quicker as Hasan moved toward his climax, the pain in Lucy's arse became unbearable, tears streaming down her face, screaming into her gag. He was now pumping in and out of her at a ferocious speed, grunting fiercely as time and again he slammed his member as far into her as it could her, repeatedly slapping her arse cheeks with his free hand. The horse, though secured firmly to the floor, squeaked and rocked with every thrust, such was the force that Hasan was creating. And he was close. He pulled Lucy's hair toward him with as much force as he could muster, thrust deep into her and felt his balls tightening as he prepared to spill his seed.

Lucy screamed her very loudest as her hair was very nearly yanked out of her head. Hasan's body slammed into her one final time, harder than he had before and burrowing so far into her Lucy felt he would pop out of her mouth. She felt his entire body twitch before wave after wave of cum flooded her bowels. It seemed like the torrent would never end, as Hasan came as hard as he had ever come in his life. He pulled her hair back further again, causing her hole to tighten and milk the last drops of cum out of his softening member. He collapsed on top of her, until after a few seconds he felt his dick go soft and slip out of her arse, now slick with cum and the smallest trickle of blood. Hasan used Lucy's back to heave himself up, then walked round and crouched in front of his victim, staring her directly in the eye. At this Greta strode toward Lucy.

"Well done Hasan," she said as trailed the crop across Lucy's back again, "I'm sure our guest would love to thank you for all your hard work."

Greta passed her crop slowly down Lucy's crack and over her abused hole, making sure to run the tip over the sore area repeatedly,

"Listen slut," she continued, "you are going to thank your master for giving you what you wanted. For this you will need to be able to speak. I am sure you will be obedient. But if you are not, Mehmet will cut off your friend's nipple."

Lucy looked up to see Mehmet stood under Olivia, his fingers pinching her hanging right breast just below the nipple, and holding a knife against her sensitive flesh. Olivia's eyes were wide with fear, looking directly into Mehmet's as he smiled back at her. She glanced down at Lucy for a split second, pleading with her friend to spare her.

"Is that understood, whore?"

Although she hated every aspect of the situation, Lucy knew she had no choice,. She would do anything for her friend, and even if it meant debasing herself by thanking her rapist, and answering to the names of 'slut' and 'whore' she would do it. Gathering herself she nodded slowly.

"Excellent, take it off Hasan. And remember," Greta punctuated this with a short slap on Lucy's arse cheek, "one word out of turn and blondie loses a nipple."

Hasan moved his hands round to the strap of Lucy's gag, not taking his eyes of hers the entire time. He slowly took the red ball out of Lucy's mouth, the dryness of her lips causing it to stick for a moment, before it came away. Lucy's jaw ached so much from the gag that it took her a moment just to close it. Her mouth was so dry, and she started to panic as she realised she couldn't speak immediately. She desperately tried to get some moisture into her mouth, so desperate was she to save her friend.

"I thought you had something to say."

"Thaaaaa..." Lucy was fighting to get the words out.

"Go on."

"Thaaan..k....y..."

"Spit it out bitch."

"Thankkkkk yoouuuu..."

"Aren't you forgetting something," Greta teased, then her voice suddenly hardening as she thrashed the riding crop against Lucy's arse again to draw a whimper from her parched mouth, "address him properly."

"Thank you......master."

With that Hasan leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, and then planted his mouth on Lucy's, thrusting his tongue playfully into her. He then stood up, leaving his cock dangling in front of her face. Lucy had never felt so low in her entire life. Not only had she been drugged and kidnapped, she had then been anally raped and had had to thank her rapist, before he had kissed her. She felt like all of her dignity and self respect had completely disappeared. But things were about to get even worse.

"Good girl," Greta's monotonous tone taking on a more patronising edge, before hardening again, "now beg to suck his cock."

Lucy was stunned. She tried to look up at Greta to see if she was serious, but couldn't get her hand round with her restraints. Instead she looked up, at Hasan, who was looking down at her grinning. His cock was inches from her face, and the smell was appalling, sweat, blood, cum and anything else stuck to his dick from her anal rape which didn't bear thinking about. Lucy closed her eyes, as if hoping that she'd misheard, unable to contemplate what deep down she knew she would have to do.

"Well if you won't show your gratitude," Greta snarled, "then Mehmet will have to..."

"Please!" Lucy interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Please....let me ss..ss.suck your...c..cock..." Lucy's sentence trailed off.

"Address him properly!" Greta's cool demeanour vanished for a split second as she barked the command at Lucy, before moving back to the unsettlingly calm woman, "or you know the consequences."

"Please master, let me....suck your cock."

Lucy didn't flinch saying it, for she knew she had absolutely no choice. As horrendous an experience as it might be, she could not live with the alternative. No sooner had the words left her mouth Hasan took a step forward until his limp cock was millimetres from her tongue. Lucy had sucked cock before, a number of times, but never under these circumstances, never when the dick she had to suck was covered in so much grime.

"Clean me bitch."

Knowing she didn't have a choice, Lucy stuck her tongue out and tentatively licked the head of Hasan's cock. The taste was horrendous, like nothing she had ever experienced before. Using just her tongue, she attempted to bring more of his now limp but still large dick into her mouth. Hasan brushed her hair to one side, and slowly lowered his cock along her outstretch tongue. As more and more of his dick slid into her mouth, so the taste became worse for Lucy. As if getting raped in the arse weren't bad enough, she now had to clean her own blood and shit off his cock. The taste was appalling, and several times Lucy had to hold back the vomit, knowing full well that would be severely punished. She ran the length of her tongue along his giant shaft, endeavouring to get the job done as quickly as possible. To her relief, Hasan's cock did not rise again, despite how much he was enjoying her warm soft tongue running up and down his cock. He would loved to have worked up an erection, which he would have given another minute with this girl's expert work, and skull fuck her into oblivion, but he knew there would be plenty of time to do whatever he wanted, and they had other work to do first. So Hasan just relaxed let his little bitch run her sweet little tongue up and down his cock. After about a minute, and just as he felt like he was getting hard again, he backed out, leaving Lucy with her tongue sticking out, still with her gaping arsehole leaking cum onto the cold stone floor.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you master," Lucy didn't need a prompt; she knew already that she was in no position to argue.

"Put her gag back in Hasan," Greta, after giving her one final spank with the crop, moved round to Lucy's face, "we don't want her disturbing us."

Hasan obliged, quickly fastening the gag back into Lucy's mouth, who offered no resistance. He tapped her lightly on the cheek and kissed her on the forehead, which humiliated Lucy still further.

"Good job Hasan. Now, just one more to go."

Greta moved steadily over toward Holly. Holly knew she was coming. She had tried and failed to block out the sounds of what seemed like many hours, but had in fact been less than one. She had heard had been the grunts of the men as they fucked, the whimpers from her friends as they were fucked, the slap of flesh on the flesh and the squeak of wood and clinking of metal, and all the time the voice of that woman, unmoving, showing little emotion. She had heard as Lucy had been forced to beg so obsequiously to her rapist, and then as Greta had announced the inevitable; that she was next. Her eyes slammed shut, all she could do was hear as the shoes that were rapping on the floor came to a halt in front of her. Holly hung motionless, waiting for whatever this lunatic was going to do to her.

Greta looked the girl up and down. Her innocent little face was streaked with tears, huge wet patches on her dress from tears and saliva that had drooled out of her mouth, spread obscenely wide by the bright red gag. Her long slender legs hung limply beneath her, as if the girl were just a corpse. Indeed, were it not for the rise and fall of the girl's chest Greta may have been concerned, worried that she might not be able to have her fun with this one. And Greta was staring at this chest now. She could tell by the bulge in the girls dress that hiding underneath the fabric was a pair of huge tits, and Greta immediately hated the girl. As demonstrated by her cleavage, Greta's breasts had never grown above an A cup, and it had always been a sore point with her. Seeing this little bitch, so pathetic hanging there, being blessed with something she so clearly didn't deserve. Rage built up inside the usually calculating German, and she lashed out.

The blow to her chest knocked all the wind out of Holly and caused her eyes to fly open. Greta's cold and narrow green eyes were as far away as possible from the big brown doe eyes that stared back at her, flush with shock at the sudden violence. Holly gasped for breath, though with the ball gag restricting her breathing for a moment she felt she was going to pass out. Slowly she managed to fill her lungs again, still breathing deeply while Greta looked on with almost a smile on her face. Holly looked pleadingly into the eyes of her assailant, but she would find no mercy there. Greta relished the look of pain and fear in the girl's eyes. Greta reached out and stroked the girl's face, loving how she tried in vain to move away from her touch, and then brought the flat of her hand crashing against the poor girl's cheek. Holly tried to scream, but the gag stifled everything save for a muffled whimper. Enjoying the muffled sounds coming from her mouth, Greta worked her hands down the girl's torso, as if searching her at an airport. She felt along her sides, then moved her hands quickly over her breasts before moving further down, feeling the girl's arse and hips. She was pleased to note the girl was fit, her body a beautiful hourglass shape with a small waist and a nice toned arse.

"Mehmet," Greta didn't take her eyes of the girl for one moment, "over here."

Mehmet gave Olivia a quick pat on the cheek and moved toward Holly. He didn't even try to hide the glee on his face. He had been waiting for this one the most. From the moment he had sat down with the three girls he had noticed this one. Shy and retiring, he could tell that she had little experience with men, and he had been instantly drawn to the girls breasts. And as he approached with his knife in hand her could not wait to cut her dress to ribbons and play with her.

"Ok," Greta stated matter of factly, "let's get her ready."

Mehmet moved quickly toward her and pressed the knife against her cheeks. He looked deep into Holly's big brown eyes, grinning as he drank in her fear. Holly was absolutely terrified. She had seen the brutality of these people with her friends, and she didn't even want to think about what they might do to her. She couldn't believe that she had thought about this man the night before as potential for her first time. Now the cold steel pressed against her flesh she knew it was real, and that this wouldn't be the first time she had always dreamed of.

After caressing her cheek with the knife, he moved it down her torso, until it came to rest on her waist. Mehmet grabbed the belt that held the dress at the girl's waist, and cut through it with one swift jerk of his hand. The belt fell to the floor, the dress now shapeless and hanging off the girl's shoulders. Mehmet trailed the knife up again, making sure to trace the tip over Holly's breasts. He brought the knife under one shoulder strap, and sliced through the fabric, allowing a portion of it to fall and expose her bra, and the top of her magnificent cleavage. Mehmet could barely contain his excitement as he moved the knife across her chest to the other shoulder and cut through the strap. The dress fell down and caught on Holly's chest, revealing the tops of her breasts beautifully encased within a black bra. Mehmet pulled down on the fabric and the dress fell to the floor. Mehmet could now gaze on the full majesty of her cleavage. Her huge tits were not meant to be on display, but even Holly's modest bra couldn't hide her assets from Mehmet's hungry gaze. He stared down open mouthed at her breasts, even within the confines of her bra they were magnificent. Mehmet could have looked at that cleavage all day, whether it be in a magazine or now, right in front of him. But there was more to come.

Holly closed her eyes as she felt her dress slide down her body. She could feel Mehmet's eyes burning into her as he stared deep into her cleavage. She felt an overwhelming feeling of shame, although she knew deep down it was going to get so much worse. Mehmet's fingers moved gradually across the top of her cleavage, pushing slightly into her flesh with his nails. He could feel the stirring already, and decided to press on. He pulled the shoulder straps together behind Holly's back, pulling the back strap with them until it looked like her breasts were going to explode through the fabric. He cut through the shoulder straps, but kept hold of them, keeping the cups of her bra pushed deep into her tits. With one hand still pulling on her bra straps, Mehmet put the knife underneath the fabric connecting the two cups, and cut through it. Holly's bra disappeared in an instant. Her tits bounced wildly into view, bouncing back from the strain of the bra much to Mehmet's delight. He stepped back level with Greta, and looked down on her still jiggling assets.

Holly's breasts were perfect. They were huge, bigger than Mehmet had ever seen in the flesh. On her medium sized frame they hung perfectly on her chest, with not a hint of sag. They were perfectly symmetrical, high up on her chest, and from what he could see, exactly the right balance of soft and firm. They were topped by large pale nipples, hardened by her fear at her situation. With each breath the Holly took her tits moved up and down slightly, her hanging body causing them to sway very lightly. Mehmet could have stared at her chest all day. It was as if Mehmet had chosen the perfect breasts and put them on this girl. He could not wait to get his hands all over them, to play with them, to torture them. His cock was hard thinking of things he would do to her, and the pain that it would cause her. Greta stepped forward.

Holly was filled with shame as her bra was cut away. For a girl that was so self conscious about her body, this was an absolute nightmare. Even though she had shut her eyes, she could feel both pairs of eyes burning into her chest as both Mehmet and Greta leered at her tits. Greta had once again been filled with rage upon seeing the girl's bra fall away. Not only had she been blessed with a huge pair, but they were perfect, not a blemish on them. She stood just inches away from them, and brought her hand up to Holly's left breast, just cupping it gently. She weighed Holly's flesh in her hand, surprised by how heavy her breast was. Then without warning she slapped hard against her tit. Holly's eyes shot open, in time for another savage blow. Greta struck Holly's left globe five times, each time the flesh wobbling violently, and a whimper emanating from the girl's mouth. Without saying a word, Greta brought her other hand up and gave the same treatment to the other breast until both of Holly's tits had crimson patches growing on them.

Having let out her initial rage, Greta slowly regained her composure as she trailed her long nails across Holly's heaving breasts. Holly flinched even at this tender touch, expecting worse. But for now Greta remained soft, tracing along her tits with the tips of her fingers, circling her index finger slowly around Holly's erect nipple, before pinching it softly, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. Holly knew what she was going to do before she did it, Greta's soft and teasing touch only making it worse for the girl.

"Look at me."

Greta accentuated this by sharply twisting Holly's right nipple, causing her to cry out, a muffled scream all that made its way out of the gag. She threw her head back, as if this would alleviate the pain, but to no avail, and Greta continued to apply the pressure. It didn't take long for Holly to obey, looking straight at her tormentor. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mehmet's big cock standing fully erect. Greta stopped increasing the pressure on the poor girl's nipple, but did not release. With her free hand she began to play with Holly's other tit, squeezing and slapping it.

"Good bitch," Greta retained her eerie monotone, "let me tell you a story."

With each she paused she delivered another slap to Holly's breast, or increased the pressure on her nipple just slightly.

"When I was in high school, there was this one girl in my class. Daphne. She was very popular. Everybody loved Daphne, did anything for her. Even she and I were friends, would often talk and tease one another. One day she teased me about my breasts, just friendly, no harm intended. But you see, I am not as blessed as you or her."

This last syllable was coupled with another sharp twist of Holly's sensitive nub, drawing yet another whimper from her. Greta continued to softly maul her other breast, before tightly pinching that nipple too.

"So I pretended to laugh and forget about it. I spoke to some people my father knew, and one day, after school, we took her. She struggled so much, much more than you or your whore friends. And once we had taken her where we wanted, we tortured her."

This time Greta fiercely twisted both of the girl's nipples, and Holly's whole body shook with pain, though she kept her eyes firmly locked on her tormentor's, partly as she was scared what might happen if she didn't, partly as she was too scared to move.

"Oh you should have heard her scream. It was like nothing I had before. So beautiful. To see her pretty face in such pain. Of course, the men, they raped her, over and over. That is what men do, as you will soon find out. But me, I just wanted to hurt her. And I did. I hurt her all over. But most of all, I hurt these."

Once again Greta brutally assaulted Holly's sensitive nipples. She then stepped back, and gestured toward Mehmet, who disappeared into the back of the room, came back and handed something to Greta.

"She didn't understand why I was doing it to her. But it was all her fault. Just because she had those ridiculous big tits. But don't worry. I won't let you miss out on anything. I don't care who you are, your name, your hobbies, anything. All you are is a cunt, an asshole, a mouth and tits. Just tits. That could be your new name. All of you are the same, looking down on anyone who doesn't have those obscene melons on their chest. That won't be the case when I've finished. You will wish you'd never had them. I will make you wish you were flat chested like a little girl. But nothing can save you now."

Holly had looked into Greta's eyes through a wall of tears. She had wanted to scream at Greta, to tell her how everything she was saying about her was wrong, how she did not look down on any girls. Certainly not because of the size of their breasts. But it wouldn't have mattered. Greta didn't care. All that Greta wanted was to hurt her. And she was about to do just that.

"Mehmet, take the bitch's panties off and that gag out," Greta snapped, before turning her attentions toward Holly, "And remember, slut, what will happen if you say anything out of turn."

Holly looked across to Olivia, and saw Hasan standing next to her, toying with her nipple with a long curved knife. Holly knew exactly what Greta was threatening. She felt Mehmet's knife against her skin again, as he made short work of her underwear, exposing her pussy to the room. Quick as a flash, Mehmet had moved towards her head, and unclipped her ball gag. Holly's mouth was so dry it was painful, and she desperately tried to fill her mouth with saliva. Before she had a chance to let a sound out of her mouth, there was a loud crack, and her right breast exploded in pain.

Greta brought the leather strap down hard right onto Holly's right tit, and it hit with a loud crack that echoed around the room. It was followed a split second later by an equally loud scream from Holly. Immediately Greta swung again, this time catching Holly's left breast right on the nipple, causing yet another howl of pain louder even than the first. Already a large red stripe was appearing on Holly's right breast, and it was soon joined by another as once again Greta swung down viciously with the thick strap. Standing slightly to one side, Greta brought the strap down diagonally across both of Holly's tits, each time eliciting a blood curdling scream from the girl. Mehmet and Hasan both watched in delight as Holly writhed and twisted in her bondage to try and escape the strap as it rained down on her luscious tits, but to no avail. Greta showed mercy as time and time again she brought the thick brown leather crashing down on Holly's pale tits, which were rapidly turning a crimson red. Greta moved round to the other side of Holly, giving her just a moment to catch her breath and take in the searing pain from her boobs. But it wasn't long before Greta started swinging again, her face twisted into an angry snarl as she landed blow after blow with the strap across both of Holly's tits.

Holly writhed in pain as she was struck with savage blow after savage blow across her tits. She screamed at the top of her lungs each time the thick leather thudded into her chest. It felt like her breasts were on fire, each vicious strike only worsening it. Greta struck hard with the strap again and again, trying to cover every inch of the girl's tits until they were painted a bright scarlet red. Greta brought the leather down a few final times on Holly's poor abused nipples, and then allowed her arm to fall by her side. Thrashing the girl's tits had been tough work and she had to stop for a rest, though that hadn't stopped her enjoying every single second ever of it. Wielding that strap with such venom on those globes had been pure bliss. The way they had jiggled with each strike from the leather had been tantalising, and when coupled with her shrieks of anguish Greta had lost herself in a world of rage and ecstasy. Now she dropped the strap and stared at the damage she had caused, the girl's perfect chest was throbbing; so many strikes across her tits had painted them a crimson red which was growing angrier by the second. Holly's nipples seemed to have swollen slightly under the assault, and Greta could tell they would be exceptionally sore. She though about covering the girl's whole body with the strap, until every last inch of her felt like it was on fire, but decided that could wait. There would be plenty of time for that in the next act.

Mehmet and Hasan had stood throughout the ordeal in their respective positions completely mesmerised by the sight that befell them, both their cocks rock hard as they watched. Even Mehmet had been surprised by the ferocity that Greta had struck the girl with each blow looking like it would flay her skin away, although he knew Greta would not have allowed that to happen.. They had both savoured the sounds of the girl's screams of agony echoed around the stone walls of the basement. The girl's scarlet tits moved rapidly up and down as she tried desperately to catch her breath, tears streaming down her face. Hasan had been toying with Olivia's hanging tits as he had watched, desperately resisting the temptation to play with himself. Each time the leather had bitten into Holly's skin, Hasan had twisted Olivia's nipples, enjoying the squirm of his hanging captive each time. Mehmet had no outlet for his desires, and so just stood and watched, drinking in the sights and sounds as Greta brought the strap down again and again.

Both Olivia and Lucy had closed their eyes tightly as Greta landed blow after blow on Holly. But they could not shield their ears from the crack of the leather on her skin or the screams of anguish from their friend that followed them. Whenever they did catch a glimpse they were shocked by the savagery with which the German swung the weapon, the force with which she connected with the poor girl's breasts. With each swing of the strap that landed squarely on those big tits, Olivia let out a squeal as Hasan gleefully twisted and pulled on Olivia's tits, who was already aching from her uncomfortable hogtie, as well as the pain her pussy had been subjected to during her rape. Meanwhile, Lucy kept her eyes closed, the pain in her arsehole still throbbing, and hung her head down, trying not only to forget her own anal rape, but to block out the sounds of Holly's torture. As the sound of leather and skin ceased, she dared to look up, and was horrified to see Holly's breasts, so perfect usually, be painted with red welts one on top of the other, and she feared about what was to come for all of them.

"Mehmet," Greta continued as if nothing have happened, "time."

Upon Greta's instruction, Mehmet moved swiftly over behind Holly, and ran his hands up her torso until he reached her tits. Gleefully he took them into his hands, drawing whimpers from Holly, as he slowly squeezed her globes. He moved his fingers up to her sore nipples and toyed with them, rolling them between his fingers, pinching and twisting them. Holly was too exhausted to cry out as he subtly abused her, only managing to whimper softly as his rough hands buried themselves into her tits. Mehmet was in heaven as he took her massive globes in each hand as best he could, feeling radiating off her skin as he slowly began to knead Holly's tits from behind. His semi trance was quickly broken though.

"Quickly"

Mehmet took quick notice of Greta's stern words and quickly unhooked Holly's arms from the ceiling. Quick as a flash he cut through the ropes that held her hands and feet, and brought her arms behind her back, quickly retying them again before she even had a chance to react. Then, holding her up by her stomach with one hand, he adjusted the hook above her head, lowering it a couple of feet. Mehmet then lifted Holly up and hooked her wrists onto the chain, holding her there for a second before slowly bringing his hands away. Holly's torso was slowly lowered while her hands maintained their position on the hook. Slowly but surely her entire weight was taken onto her shoulders, and in a way far more painful than before. She was being put in a classic strappado position, her arms pulled painfully upwards behind her back, her entire weight placed on her shoulders. Holly squealed as it felt as though her arms were being pulled out of their sockets, and coupled with the pain in her tits it felt like her whole body was on fire. Mehmet reached through the girl's arms, pushing his erect cock between her legs at the same time, and pulled back on her hair, forcing her head up and her eyes to look at Greta.

Greta moved toward Holly. As she walked the stared deep into those big brown eyes, now filled with a look of pure terror, and her pretty, innocent little face that was now covered in streaks from her tears. Greta drank it all in, revelling in the suffering she had already caused these three sluts. And she had only just started. Having reached Holly with the girl's face below her, Greta knelt down so she could look directly into her eyes. With one hand she reached out and snatched at one of Holly's abused tits, drawing a moan of pain from the girl, while with the other she held her face so the babe couldn't look away.

"I hope you enjoyed that," Olivia almost broke into a smile, "because that's not the last time I'll be torturing those udders of yours."

Holly tried to close her eyes and look away as Greta spoke to her, but a sharp slap soon put paid to that, and she was forced to look straight at her tormentor.

"Now now slut, behave yourself," Greta talked to Holly as if it were a student-teacher dynamic, rather a sadistic torturer talking to her captive, "or I'll get the strap out again. Now I think it's time you showed us just how good a little whore you are. Mehmet is going to fuck your tight virgin cunt. You can scream and shout all you want, the more the better, but it won't matter. He won't stop until he's filled you with his cum. Enjoy."

With that Greta gave her tit one last squeeze, stroked her cheek and moved away, taking up her position to watch the show.

Holly was stunned. She couldn't believe this woman knew she was a virgin, that she knew this most intimate fact about her without ever having met her before. In fact Mehmet had known the moment he'd met her, as had Greta, so good were they at reading these girls. But more than that, she could not believe that this was how she was to lose her virginity. Although deep down she had known the moment she had woken up in this hell hole, but now it was upon her. All the times she had thought about how she would lose it, but this was nothing she had ever countenanced. But she had little time to get used to it.

Mehmet didn't need a second invitation. Quick as a flash Mehmet had pulled Holly's legs apart, and had lined up his dick with the entrance to the girl's cunt, until the tip was resting at her opening. His hands moved round and rested themselves inevitably on her tits, hanging so tantalisingly below her aching body. His rough palms squeezed her globes into her chest, digging in his finger tips so as to get as much purchase as possible. He inched his dick slightly inside her, feeling the heat of her sex on his cock. His shaft was still slick from the rape of Olivia, but he could already feel that it was still going to be a tight fit. He pushed his dick further in, until he felt the tip come into contact with her cherry. With barely an inch inside of her, he squeezed her luscious tits as hard as he could and thrust forward.

Holly screamed as hard as she could as she felt her virginity torn apart. The pain ripped through her crotch with an intensity she couldn't believe. The brutality of his thrust had tore through her cherry like it was wet paper, and just like that he had taken her virginity. The invading cock buried itself into her virgin pussy, Mehmet's hips thudding into her arse cheeks. The impact sent her swinging forward, straining her shoulders even further, so much so Holly was certain her arms would pop out. Finally there was the searing pain in her breasts, compounded by Mehmet's hands mauling them, digging his fingers into her tender flesh. It was the worst possible way to lose her virginity.

Mehmet pulled his dick almost all the way out, looking down to see streaks of red covering his shaft. Taking time to squeeze her tits again, he drove forward, slamming into her firm arse once again, his scrotum swinging forward underneath her. She had tried to bring her legs back together again in an attempt to close her pussy off to him, but he kicked her away with disdain as once more he thrust into her like a jackhammer. With each thrust he squeezed her tits as hard as he could, burying his fingers into her soft pliable flesh. Leaving his right hand firmly locked on her breast, he moved his left hand down to the nipple on her left tit. Still continuing his pounding of her cunt, his fingers began to pull hard on her swollen nub, pinching and twisting it harder and harder with each drive forward. He was in heaven. Not only did he have those giant tits to sink his hands into, but her pussy fit around his cock like a glove. It was so tight it felt as if she were squeezing it herself, but with the fluids from Olivia's rape combined with the results of taking the girl's virginity, he was able to pound in and out with as much force as he wanted.

Greta watched Mehmet as he rutted with the girl from some way back in the room. She smiled as he grabbed brutally at her tits, drinking in the look of anguish and agony on the girl's face. She had taken up a position behind Lucy, who was still secured to the wooden horse directly in front of Holly, her arsehole still dripping with the evidence of her rape. Greta gestured to Hasan, who upon hearing the woman move had looked to see what her plans were. Leaving Olivia hanging in her bondage, Hasan moved over to Lucy, all the time with the sounds of Holly's rape continuing in the background. Without having to hear another word, Hasan set to work. He bent down and undid the straps holding the legs of the horse to the ground, and turned it 90° so that Lucy was now perpendicular to Holly, rather than looking straight at her. It had taken all his strength to move both the girl and the horse, but now it was done he secured the legs to yet more rings in the floor, and looked up at Greta.

"Take off the gag," Greta said to Hasan, only just audible over the commotion in the corner.

Greta had picked up the leather strap she had used to beat Holly's tits with on her way back to Lucy, and now held it firmly in her right hand, hovering just above Lucy's pert arse. Hasan bent down and quickly whipped the gag out of the girl's mouth, who gasped for breath but didn't say a word, too aware was she of the consequences. Greta stared down at her, and as Mehmet bucked forward into Holly's cunt, Greta brought the leather crashing down on Lucy's rump.

THWACK!!!

Lucy screamed at the top of her lungs as the strap made thunderous contact squarely across both her arse cheeks. The pain ripped through her like a fire, totally consuming her. But before she had chance to regain her composure another lusty blow connected, just below the curve of her arse. Two more strikes quickly followed, each in time with one of Mehmet's thrusts. Lucy screamed almost continually as her arse and thighs glowed with pain after the four strikes, and Greta looking down could already see large red stripes appearing across the girl's bronzed skin. The German paused, looked across at Hasan, and nodded.

Hasan looked across at Greta once more, and upon seeing her nod her head, moved his fully erect cock inches from Lucy's tear stained face. After taking a second to regain her composure as best she could, Lucy stared up at the man's face, pleading with her eyes, but she saw nothing but lust. She brought her head back down, looking into the eye of his cock, the same cock she had sucked her own shit off just minutes earlier. Already resigned to her fate, Lucy opened her mouth. Hasan needed no second invitation, and slid his cock into the girl's mouth along her tongue, savouring the heat on his bell end. Greta bent down and pulled back on Lucy's hair, moving her face right next to the bound girl's.

"Now you will suck his cock," Greta whispered in Lucy's ear, her voice even more sinister when it was hushed, "and the quicker you make him cum, the sooner I will stop beating your ass. And if you even teeth so much as touch his dick, I will slit your throat."

Greta stood back up, and seeing that Lucy hadn't moved since her chilling message, she brought the strap down with all her might. The tip caught just between Lucy's cheeks, right on her abused hole. Were it not for the dick that was resting in her mouth, Lucy's scream would have almost deafened the entire room. As it was, the vibrations in Lucy's throat were pure ecstasy for Hasan. Lucy wasted no time in trying to appease Greta, by wrapping her lips around the man's cock and bobbing her head up and down as best she could. Just a moment passed before Greta landed another brutal blow to the top of Lucy's thighs, and again Lucy's piercing scream was blocked by the cock that stuffed her mouth. Lucy used all her expertise trying to pleasure Hasan, using her tongue deftly around his head, running her lips up and down his shaft, trying to get as much of his dick down her throat as she could.

Hasan stood relaxed as he watched the girl's head bob frantically up and down on his long shaft. Though he could tell she was trying to get as much of his giant cock into her mouth as possible, but there was still a good few inches of his cock protruding from her gorgeous lips. For a good while her just relaxed, savouring the sensation of Lucy's desperate blowjob, watching as Greta brought the strap down time and time again on the girl's arse and thighs, and glancing across to see his friend brutally pounding in and out of Holly, and mercilessly mauling her tits. It was like a scene from a perfect dream for him. But he knew he could make it even better. With one hand he reached down and wrapped his fingers in Lucy's hair. Then, taking a firm grip on the back of her head, he began to push forward.

Lucy had been trying desperately to get the man off, trying all the tricks she had picked up over the years. But as soon as she felt the hand on the back of her head she had known what was coming, and tried to prepare herself. Slowly but surely she felt the head of his cock push its way further down her throat. She tried to adjust, tried desperately to let it slide down without gagging, but it was too big. Hasan felt the convulsions in the girl's throat as she tried desperately to accommodate his member, and Hasan knew that he could go no further, at least not for now. He pulled out just a little bit, and then moved his hips forward quicker this time. Gripping her hair even harder he thrust forward again, just as another blow landed squarely across her arse cheeks. Soon his hips were bucking forward and back almost as vigorously as he had fucked her arse. His pace sped up, and with it, his pleasure.

All three of them were now in sync. Each time Mehmet drove into Holly's virgin pussy, Greta brought the strap down hard on Lucy's arse, and Hasan fucked deep into her throat. Watching in Olivia was sickened as she watched both her friends being horribly abused. Even in her own discomfort and pain, she could feel the pain of her friends with each thrust and swing. She watched as Mehmet brutally pounded into Holly, brutally abusing her tits as he did so. She watched as Greta brought the strap down repeatedly on Lucy's rear, and while Hasan thrust three quarters of his cock down her throat. It all brought home to Olivia the hopelessness of their situation.

Mehmet looked across at his friend and smiled at him. The two Turks had synchronised their fucks so that each time they thrust into their respective girls they could watch the pain on the face of the other, which only spurred them on more. The metronomic pace set by the strap's incessant pounding of Lucy's cheeks helped them keep to a steady pace at first but as both neared an inevitable climax the pace began to quicken, until both were pumping in and out as fast as they could, buoyed by the sounds of pain and anguish they could hear. Mehmet in particular could hear the effect of his assault on Holly, and as his pace increased and plunged further and further into her now pliable cunt, and twisted and mauled her tits increasingly brutally, and by extension the agony in her whimpers and screeches became more pronounced. A few last brutal strokes and he plunged his hips forward, burying himself right up to the hilt in the girl's abused pussy, and, mauling her tits so brutally Holly felt like he was going to pull them clean off her chest, he spurted his load inside her.

Hasan was not far behind. Seeing his friend climax into the hanging girl brought him right to the very edge, and after pounding the back of Lucy's throat with frightening speed just a few more times he too came, feeling his cock pulse in her mouth as load after load of his cum flooded the girl's throat. He bent down and held the girl's nose tightly. He watched as she paused for a second, and then began to fight for breath.

Lucy felt like she was going to throw up. The head of Hasan's cock was battering her throat, and she was trying desperately to supress her gag reflex, knowing that it would only be bad news if she were to vomit. She felt as he began to tighten, his grip on the back of head increasing and his cock pushing further and further down her throat. As for her arse and legs, the pain was indescribable. She must have been beaten with the strap thirty times, and it felt like someone had literally set her rear on fire. Indeed the pain was so great that it was almost numb, and so the cock in her mouth was brought even more sharply into focus. Then with one brutal thrust forward he buried almost the full ten inches of his cock down her throat, pushing her nose so hard she felt it might break, and she could feel load after load of his spunk coating her throat. Before she could react he had pinched her nostrils tight, and suddenly she realised she couldn't breathe. Her mouth was blocked not just by the cock, but was now coated in his sticky cum. Desperately fighting for breath she knew exactly what she had to do, and so, as disgusting as it made her feel, she put all her energy into swallowing his cum. After a couple of gulps, and just as she felt she might pass out, she tried again and was just about to able to breathe through her mouth, his softening cock taking up much less space. Knowing full well what he expected of her, and not wanting to receive further punishment, she skilfully used her tongue to clean of the remnants of his cum from his cock.

Holly was in a whole world of pain. Her shoulders were screaming at her. Her tits felt like they were on fire. And her pussy was red raw from the jackhammer thrusts of the man who had taken her virginity. With each powerful stroke he not only almost ripped her arms from her sockets but also viciously mauled her tits, his sole intention to cause as much pain as he possibly could. His fingers dug into her flesh, squeezing and mauling her sensitive and tortured globes maliciously with each thrust. Occasionally he would switch his attentions to her swollen nipples, pinching, tugging, twisting and pulling them, seemingly oblivious to the agony it was causing her, but in fact more than aware. Holly couldn't believe any man could be so brutal, so disregarding of another's pain, who could take so much pleasure in making somebody else suffer.

Suddenly the force of his thrusts increased violently, as did, though she hadn't believe it possible, the malice with each he tortured her breasts. He thrust forward as hard as he possibly could, very nearly dislocated her shoulders, pushing his cock so deep into her cunt she felt like she might split in two, and with one almighty pull down on both her nipples, he came. Wave after wave of cum flooded her womb, the hot sticky liquid making her feel even more full. He pressed his body on top of hers, his hands not moving from her sore tits, as he allowed her vagina to milk the last drops of jism out of his cock. Allowing his cock to go limp inside her, he pulled out, leaving long strands of pinkish liquid between him and the girl, and went over to join Hasan and Greta.

Greta marvelled at the sight of the girls. All of them seemed broken already. Olivia looked so full of horror hanging in her bondage, Holly was completely desolate, and Lucy looked exactly what she was, a proud woman who had lost so much self respect in such a short period of time. She admired the vivid red of both Holly's tits and Lucy's arse, mostly by her own hand. She couldn't wait to play with her toys herself now they were a bit more pliable. But that had to wait. She had to let what had happened to them sink in.

"Clean them up boys," she said, almost cheerily, "I'll be back down later. And it'll be my time to have some fun."


Chapter 3 (added: 2015/12/22)

Greta's shoes echoed on the stone floor as she walked slowly and purposefully down the stairs. She had showered, eaten and rested, and now was ready to continue. It had been only a couple of hours since she had been down in the basement, but she was already itching to get back and play with her new toys. And this time, she was going to have some fun. She liked to show as little emotion as possible at the beginning, but now she was going to enjoy herself. Not that she hadn't enjoyed herself before, whipping those giant tits had given her so much pleasure. Watching Mehmet and Hasan brutally fuck the three girls had been equally satisfying. But things were about to be stepped up a notch. She had incredible discipline, and had managed to resist the urge to cum throughout the previous session, but it was finally time for her relief. She continued down the stairs, already knowing exactly what she was going to do.

Olivia perked up as soon as she heard the rap of the heels on the floor, knowing exactly who was coming back. The poor girl could still scarcely believe what had happened to her and her friends in a space of just a few hours. However, despite having only been in the basement for a handful of hours, to Olivia it felt like years. She had been raped herself and had watched her friends raped and beaten, and for an innocent girl like her it had been a terrible time, and there was absolutely no sign of it stopping any time soon. Since Greta had left their ordeal had not ended. Hasan and Mehmet had wasted little time in carrying out Greta's instructions. One at a time they had roughly taken the girl's out to a room adjacent to the basement, starting with Holly. Mehmet quickly unhooked her arms and with one arm under her massive tits he carried her off. Ten minutes later the men returned with Holly, and hooked her back into the same position, before doing exactly the same with Lucy. Finally it was Olivia's turn. Hasan and Mehmet brought her down to the floor, before undoing her complicated bondage, leaving just her wrists tied behind her back, and between them carrying her weak body off. Once inside, Olivia was greeted by a very bright light, which lit up a brilliant white room. On one side stood a steel lavatory, there was a hose coiled on one wall, and two bowls in one side of the room, one filled with water the other with a thick brown stew like dish, which looked suspiciously like dog food. Olivia already knew what she would have to do, but still waited to be prompted.

"Hurry," Hasan snapped, and gave the girl a small shove in the back.

Olivia staggered over to the steel toilet, and after staring at it for a moment, sat down. The metal was freezing on her bare skin, as she tried to do her business with the two men towering over her. Once she had finished, Hasan lifted her off the seat from under her arms and lifted her into the air, tying her wrists to a hook she hadn't noticed hanging from the ceiling. Meanwhile, Mehmet had uncoiled the hose and held it out pointed at Olivia. The jet of water was powerful and freezing as it slammed into her chest, and Olivia tried to shriek through her gag. As Mehmet moved the stream of water up and down her hanging body, Hasan, carefully avoiding the jet of water, moved over her body with soap, spending particular time massaging her now wet tits with the soap. He moved his hand down and worked it into her pussy, washing away the physical evidence of her rape. Mehmet moved in and directed the jet of water at her genitals, cleaning both her pussy and her arsehole. Moving round he made sure to wash every inch of her body, so that she was ready for the next session. Having finished washing her he turned off the hose, the two men took the dripping girl down from the ceiling, and undid her gag. It was the first time Olivia had been free to talk in her entire time, but she knew there was no point.

"Eat."

Olivia had not realised how hungry she was, and so immediately after being told, she did just that. Getting down onto her knees, and moved her face over the bowl of slop, and then went straight down and began to eat. It was yet another degrading experience, one of many in these few hours, and with many more to come. She was bent over eating like a dog in front of these men, with her arsehole on display as they stood behind her. It didn't take her long to finish her meal, and once she'd drunk the water, and no sooner had she finished, then the two men had picked her up and carried her back into the room. Once again with frightening speed, the two men tied Olivia back into her hogtie, and quick as a flash, all three girls were washed and relieved, and tied back in place. Mehmet and Hasan then left, knowing they couldn't do anything else to the girls until Greta got back, and turned out the light.

It was like this, plunged into darkness and silence, that the girls were until Greta came down the stairs. Just as in the first time they had awoken in the basement, the girls could hear only the slowly encroaching sound of Greta's heels on the stone floor, and they shuddered in anticipation at the horrors that awaited them. They could hear now that Greta had come up beside them, and a moment later the lights came up. Once again Greta stood, with Mehmet and Hasan just behind her, directly in front of Holly, with the other two to either side. Greta waited a moment, relishing the fear she could sense emanating from the girls, and then she spoke.

"Hello again whores," again with the same monotonous and terrifying voice, "I hope Mehmet and Hasan cleaned you up nicely. I enjoyed watching them fuck you girls earlier, but now I will have some fun. You will make me cum, and I will torture you. You will, English sluts, provide all three of us with much pleasure. So let's begin. First, some fun with these."

Greta reached out and grabbed each of Holly's nipples with her fingers. The swollen nubs had not recovered from the brutal assault earlier, and Holly winced in pain as Greta roughly twisted them once again. Holly wriggled once again as Greta's long fingers once again squeezed and twisted Holly's areolas, exciting her nipples until they were slightly erect. She turned round, and Hasan handed her a couple of small devices. Greta brought them up to Holly's big round eyes so her captive could see what was about to happen to her. What Greta held were nipple clamps. The jaws were held centimetres from Holly's face, so she could see the sharp, brutal looking teeth that were about to sink into her flesh. At the end of the clamp was a ring, and so these small devices looked menacing to the poor girl. Greta kept one clamp close to her face, whilst with the other hand she continued to massage her nipple to erection. When it was sufficiently hard, Greta brought the jaws down over the sensitive nub, and after teasing her for a moment, then allowed the teeth to bite into Holly's tit.

Holly tried to squeal through her gag as the metal teeth of the clamp bit hard into her sensitive nipple. The jaws clamped onto her nub with ferocious force, the tips of each tooth imbedding itself in her flesh, though not breaking through her skin. Tears welled from her big doe eyes as she tried to deal with the intense pain that coursed through her from her nipple. Greta didn't give her an opportunity to get used to it, taking her other nipple and clamping down the jaws of the clamp on the sensitive flesh. Once again Holly tried to squeal, as now both her tits screamed with the pain of the teeth. Greta took each clamp in her fingers and pulled down on them, relishing the whimpers her victim emitted. She tugged the clamps this way and that, pulling Holly's huge tits around just by the nipples, and causing even more pain for the poor girl, and looking her in the eyes the whole time. Once again she turned around and collected something from Hasan, and turned back to her toy. Giving her right nipple a tug, Greta took the weights that had just been handed to her and clipped them onto the clamps, before letting the tit fall. Holly once again squealed as her boob visibly lengthened as the weights pulled down on the nipple. Greta quickly did the same with the other nipple, until both of those luscious breasts had heavy weights hanging from them. To compound Holly's pain, Greta gave her a quick push, so she swung slightly, and the weights on her breasts pulled down, making the girl's pain worse and worse. Greta played with her tits for a few moments, yanking down on her nipples, knocking the melons from side to side and generally enjoying her pain.

"There you go, slut" Greta said to Holly, "those udders look much better now. I'll be back to play with you later."

Greta now turned around and gestured to Mehmet who quickly set to work, whilst Greta took up a position further away. Mehmet moved over toward Olivia and unhooked her from the ceiling, easily carrying her womanly body to the floor, undoing her hogtie, leaving her wrists and ankles tied. He reached round to undo her ball gag, taking it out of her mouth, before dragging her, by her hair, toward Greta, kneeling her in front of her. Hasan emerged from the back of the room with a chair, and a strange stick device, which he handed to Greta. She sat down on the chair, and pushed her crotch so her cunt was about eye level with Olivia, who was currently staring at the floor. Greta waited a moment, then took the stick, pressed the end of it against the girl's cute little nipple, and turned it on.

The shock from the cattle prod coursed immediately through Olivia, throwing her back onto the floor. The contact was only for a split second but the explosion of pain continued, pulsing out from her nipple. Olivia's body went through a quick spasm on the floor, drool running from her mouth as Mehmet bent down to right her, and supporting her whilst she regained the use of her legs. Olivia's eyes stared straight at the prod, then moved over to her torturer.

"Do as you're told," Greta snapped, "or you'll get an even worse shock. Now beg to lick my cunt."

Olivia was still trying to recover from the shock, when she was hit by this. The pain from the prod had torn through her instantly, a pain worse than she had ever experienced. And now, whilst still trying to recover from the violent shock, and whilst her nipple still throbbed where the contact had been made, she had a job to do. Said so flatly and without emotion, it took a split second for Olivia to register what was being asked of her. The sheer vulgarity of the language used by Greta threw the young girl, as much as the act she was being asked to preform shock her. It was not something she had ever considered doing previously, but everything under these circumstances was different. She already knew she had no choice, that she would have to comply, but upon seeing Greta raise the prod again she didn't hesitate.

"Please," Olivia began, pausing for a moment while she tried to come to terms with what she was about to say.

"Go on."

"Please let me.....l-l-l...l-l."

"Spit it out bitch."

"P-p-please let me l-l-lick your c-c-cu-unt..."

As Olivia trailed off, thinking she had done what was asked of her, Greta moved quickly to raise the cattle prod to the girl's other nipple and once again released a powerful electric shock. Once again Olivia was thrown to the floor, but this time Hasan gave her no chance to writhe on the floor and picked her still jerking body up immediately.

"Address me appropriately, cunt."

Olivia didn't think she could take another shock, and so didn't hesitate for a moment.

"Please let me lick your cunt, mistress."

"You have my permission."

Desperate to avoid further punishment, Olivia wasted little in time in attempting to appease her tormentor. Shuffling forward on her knees, she positioned her innocent face just centimetres from the woman's crotch. Tentatively, Olivia pushed her tongue out of her mouth until the tip just rested on Greta's lips. Slowly, Olivia moved it up and down, gradually allowing more and more of her tongue to touch the woman's pussy. Greta lay back, savouring the sensation of the hot tongue on her cunt, but also to allow the girl to pleasure her all by herself. Olivia worked slowly, still trying to get used to what she was being forced to do. Although she had never done it before she was almost pleasantly surprised, for given Greta's personality her sex was very clean, and so as the girl moved her tongue up and down faster and faster, it was not the horrendous experience she had initially envisaged.

Greta, however, was becoming bored. The girl's tentative forays onto her lips were dull and only mildly arousing, the girl's nerves and inexperience manifesting as a lacklustre effort to stimulate her. More than that, she wanted this to be a bad experience for the girl, for her to suffer during it, and she was quite sure that wasn't the case now. She signalled to Mehmet, who quickly disappeared into the back of the room. Then she pulled Olivia's head up from her crotch.

"Your attempts to please your mistress are insulting," Greta snapped, anger seemingly present in her voice, "and so you must be punished. What Mehmet has here is an extremely hot chilli sauce. That may not sound very scary to you, but it is far too hot to be eaten safely, especially by you weak English girls. And this isn't going in your mouth. Mehmet will shove a great big handful right up your cunt. It will burn. It will burn so much you will want to scream in pain. But you won't. Instead you will lick me. You will make me cum. The quicker you do that, the quicker the pain in your pussy will be relieved. Do you understand?"

Olivia nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"Answer properly."

"Yes mistress...," she sobbed.

"Now ask Mehmet nicely."

Olivia could scarcely believe she had to beg to be tortured, but she knew that from what she had seen already that this was no joke. Looking over toward Mehmet, she could see him smearing a handful of the red mixture onto one gloved hand, and smiling as he did it. Swallowing yet more of her pride, Olivia accepted the inevitable.

"Please, master," Olivia whispered, not quite sure what words to say next, "put the chilli on my vagina."

"No, no, on your cunt."

"P-p-please, master, put the chilli on my c-c-cunt."

Mehmet obliged instantly, bending down with his gloved hand and quickly smearing the paste onto the girl's sensitive lips. He worked his hand around, making sure to cover her entire pussy, working his hand up so he got as deep into her pussy as possible. Already Olivia could feel a tingling feeling over her pussy lips and with each passing second the sensation grew stronger and stronger. By the time Mehmet had finished working in the paste, the tingle had turned to a steady pain, and within a few more seconds it felt like her pussy was on fire. As the paste around her clit and inside her cunt began to take effect, and the burning sensation took on a new level of intensity, Olivia screamed in pain. Almost instantly Greta thrust her face deep into her cunt.

Olivia was still trying to scream as she was thrust forward at Greta's crotch. The pain in her own pussy was unbelievable; it felt quite literally that somebody had set fire to her sex. Wave after wave of burning pain shot through her body from her crotch, like nothing she had ever experienced before. All the while she knew that she needed to bring her mistress off in order to stop the searing pain, and so even through her screams she sought to pleasure her. Darting her tongue out much more frantically now, licking like a woman possessed. She moved her tongue up and down Greta's pussy lips, darting it inside occasionally to try and find her clit, working slavishly to try to elicit a response. It didn't take long before her work paid off, as soon Greta's pussy was covered in a thin film of moisture. But that wasn't what was on Olivia's mind. Her hips were bucking desperately as she tried everything to alleviate the pain in her pussy, unable to spread her legs at all or reach around there was little she could do. All she could do to end the burning was to make her mistress cum.

Greta shut her eyes as she savoured her little slave's efforts on her pussy. The frantic darting of her tongue over her sex was heaven, and coupled with the vibrations every time the girl screamed it was absolute ecstasy. Greta pushed her head as far into her cunt as it would go, trying to force the girl to penetrate as deeply as possible, only occasionally letting go to allow her a moment to breathe. With one hand firmly locked in her hair, the other moved down to the girls nipple, and with each scream from Olivia or dart with her tongue, Greta would pinch and tug o it, trying to cause as much pain as possible. For it was not merely the mechanical motion of Olivia's mouth on her pussy that was bringing Greta off. Knowing that she was in a world of pain herself, that the burning sensation in her pussy was almost unbearable, was enough to make Greta wet all by itself. Coupled with the scenes of the rapes and whippings from earlier, and a quick glance at Holly's pained face and clamped udders, Greta barely required Olivia's attentions.

"That's it whore, lick your mistress."

As her pussy grew wetter and wetter, Greta began to thrust her hips forward into Olivia's face, forcing her tongue even deeper. Olivia was licking furiously now, as if the pain in her crotch were directly driving her mouth's movements. Greta continued to shower obscenities down on Olivia, calling her every name under the sun, but her senses were too overloaded to hear any of them. With each passing moment both women grew more animated, Olivia's hips bucking wildly as her tongue worked frantically, Greta fucking the girl's face with increasing force, as well as tugging harder and harder on Olivia's sore nipple. The sucking and muffled screams that came from Greta's cunt were soon being drowned out by the moans from Greta's mouth, as she wrapped her legs tightly around Olivia's head forcing the girl's tongue ever deeper into her, and so her whole world was Greta's cunt and the fire in her own.

As her orgasm approached, Greta flung herself forward, sending Olivia spiralling back toward the floor and landing painfully on her wrists. After a moment to readjust, Greta was now straddling the girl's face, bouncing her pussy up and down on the girl's tongue, both hands reaching round to painfully abuse the girl's nipples. Olivia could barely breathe as the woman's full weight descended on her face, and her tongue worked feverishly as she tried desperately to bring the woman off and end her own torment. Greta's pussy was so wet now that her juices were cascading over Olivia's face, making breathing even more difficult. Greta lifted her cunt off the girl for just a second, allowing her to regain her breath, then plunged down for the final act. Bucking her hips frantically up and down on the girl's face, and with her finger's torturing the girl's nipples, Greta moved to the edge of her orgasm. Pulling up with her hands to give Olivia as much pain in her tits as possible, Greta leaned back as her hips bucked wildly with the throes of her climax. She shrieked loudly, bellowing out a stream of German, as a stream of her juice squirted out all over Olivia's face. Pushing her pussy down as hard as she could on the girl's face, Greta acted out the final spasms of her climax on Olivia's poor tortured nipples, pulling, twisting and pinching them with tremendous force, until when she finally released, the girls gorgeous full tits were topped by two very angry red marks.

Even now that Greta had cum all over her face, Olivia's torment had not ended. She was still finding it difficult to breathe, with the woman's crotch pressed tightly over her mouth and nose. Her nipples were throbbing with pain, still not recovered from Mehmet's assault, the shocking and then Greta's brutality had turned her sweet little nipples into sensitive nubs of pain. But all this was nothing compared to the pain in her pussy. It had only grown stronger and stronger as she'd licked Greta's cunt, and even now the ordeal was over her hips were still bucking frantically, although all this achieved was banging her arse cheeks against the stone floor. Her entire crotch was absolutely on fire, and now that she didn't have Greta's cunt in her face her screaming could resume as before. Her cries filled the room, drowning out the whimpers of Holly with her clamped nipples, and Greta's panting. The German had hoped to make the girl thank her and beg to be relieved, but she could tell that was impossible. Quickly she signalled to the two men, who lifted the hysterical girl up off the floor and onto the heavy set wooden table. They sliced through the rope that held her ankles together and quickly, fighting against her instincts to lash out and relieve the pain, secured her legs to different legs of the table, displaying her red raw cunt. As Mehmet smeared another gloved hand with a soothing and cooling cream, Greta held up her hand and walked over to the girl's face. She stared down at it for a moment, relishing the obvious and excruciating pain on her features, before clamping her hand down on her mouth, muffling her wailing.

"For doing such a good job, whore," Greta spoke loud enough for everybody in the room to hear, "I will reward you. You may choose which of your friends gets tortured next. I won't tell you what it is; just that it will be tremendously painful. Only when you have chosen will you be relieved. So choose."

Olivia could only just hear what Greta was saying to her, and could only just about process it over the screams of her pussy and inside her head. Both her friends had already undergone terrible punishment, Lucy being raped anally and orally, as well as having her arse thrashed, whilst Holly had been whipped brutally across her breasts, which now had heavy clamps on them, whilst she had also had her virginity taken in the most obscene and brutal way possible. She couldn't believe she would have to choose which of her best friends she would have to elect to receive whatever terrible punishment was next. And yet she already knew her decision. She knew one of the girl's was stronger, and that whatever the torture was she would be more able to take it. Reluctantly, she looked up at Greta, signifying she had made her choice.

"Since you are unable to talk, I will say the names of your fellow slaves, and you will nod your head. So, will it be Tits?"

Olivia stared blankly at her torturer, still unable to comprehend exactly what was happening to them.

"No? Well then it will have to be Whore?"

Olivia closed her eyes as she nodded her head slowly, unable to look at either her captor or her friend.

"Very well. I hope you enjoyed your reward. Now you may be relieved."

With that Mehmet and Hasan applied the lotion to Olivia's pussy. They worked as thoroughly as they had when applying the chilli in the first place, working it in to every nook and cranny, both around her clit and deep inside her pussy. Much like the original paste it took a while to work, but when it had started it worked quickly, and soon the relief washed over Olivia's body like pure ecstasy. After a few minutes the burning in her pussy turned into a slight tingle, barely uncomfortable, and Olivia was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. Tears still slipped from her eyes onto her face, but the screams had stopped and just for a moment Olivia felt everything would be just fine. That was until she was awoken by a swift slap across her tits.

"What do you say, bitch?"

"T-t-thank you, m-m-masters."

"And?"

"T-thank you, mistress."

"Show your appreciation."

Olivia turned to one side to see Greta's still dripping pussy inches from her face. Without having to be told what to do, she stretched her head and shoulders over and gave the lips a little tender kiss, as if she were kissing a lover. It, more than being face fucked by the very same cunt, made her feel nauseous.

"There's a good little whore," Greta said, patting her on the head as she did it, "Now let's get her stretched and gagged and move on."

Mehmet and Hasan worked quickly, not giving Olivia any chance to react. The two men undid her feet from their bondage and pulled them even further, stretching them so much that it hurt. Once again, they moved up to her hands, ignoring her whimpers for mercy, and stretched them obscenely as well, so she thought her shoulders would pop out of her sockets. She was then gagged, and for a moment left completely helpless. Then Greta suddenly turned round and looked at her.

"Maybe it isn't fair that this slave," she pulled down on one of the clamps on Holly's tits, "has some jewellery on her melons and that cunt has nothing. Clamp her."

Mehmet went immediately into the darkness, while Hasan went straight over and began massaging Olivia's tortured nipples. Smaller than Holly's, they were difficult to get erect, and so perhaps too satisfy his own lust as well, Hasan bent down to suck them, kneading her tit flesh as he did. Meanwhile Mehmet returned with an identical pair of vicious clamps, and as soon as Hasan had brought one cute little nipple to erection, clamped the sharp teeth onto it. He quickly repeated the process with her other tit, until both her nipples, atop her fulsome tits stretched against her body, were white from the vicious clamps. Hasan and Mehmet gave both a little wiggle to ensure they were firmly in position, as well as to torture Olivia some more, and then turned round to carry out Greta's next instructions.

Whilst the two men had been affixing the clamps to Olivia's boobs, Greta had been playing with Holly. She found nothing more satisfactory in the world than torturing these big titted babes, and she was going to very much enjoy doing it to this one. Indeed of all of these three girls, this was the one she wanted to feel the most pain. Luckily for her, she could already sense that Holly was the weakest of the three sluts, and so she would be able to easily carry out her will. While she wouldn't let any of the girls feel left out, these udders would be bearing the brunt of her wrath. She tugged down on the girl's nipples as these thoughts ran through her head, relishing the whimpers from her little whore mouth. She had said she was going to torture the slender whore first, but she just couldn't resist hurting this one first. She gestured over to the men, who were almost immediately over to her.

"Don't worry Whore, don't feel left out," Greta spoke to Lucy, kicking her hard on her rump to make sure she was awake, "but Tits here is going to help us decide something."

Upon hearing this Hasan and Mehmet knew exactly what to do, and quickly moved to unhook her arms, still locked behind her back in her strappado, and Hasan held her against his body, his hands resting under her tits. For a time, the clamps were taken off of Holly's tits, and there was a moment of relief as her nipples were free from the assault of the jaws. However, a split second later the blood began to flow back into her nipples, the pain came back almost as bad as before, and only Hasan's tight grip around her chest kept her from writhing on to the floor. Mehmet turned round and took two modified clothes pegs, with a ring on the end just like the clamps, and waiting very little time, clipped the pegs onto Holly's swollen nipples. Working typically quickly, Mehmet then tied a thin length of strong string to the rings on the pegs. Mehmet then took two more pegs, and with Holly's curious doe eyes looking on both terrified and intrigued, he bent down at her cunt. With her legs still tied to prevent her from kicking out, Mehmet loosened the rope slightly so he could access her pussy. Taking a lip in one hand, Mehmet clamped the peg onto the soft sensitive flesh, drawing a tortured whimper from the girl. He repeated the procedure on her other lip, so that her pussy was slightly splayed, but more crucially her lips were pinched hard. With Hasan's help, lifting Holly mostly by her tits, Mehmet passed the string over a beam that was suspended from the ceiling. Mehmet pulled hard on the string from the other side, in the process lifting Holly up by her nipples. Bending down, Mehmet then passed the string through the pegs on the girl's pussy lips, and pulled them till they were just right, and tied them tightly. Once he'd done, both he and Hasan stepped back. Holly's weight was now almost entirely supported by her tits and her cunt lips, with only the very tips of her toes touching the floor. Holly squealed as instantly the pain in her nipples grew worse, and it was accompanied by the new pain on her sex. Greta moved up to the newly bound girl, and pulled lightly on the string.

"Very nice," Greta continued to play with her toy as she spoke, "just what these udders were meant for. Here's the game whore. Whichever clothes peg falls off first, we will pierce you there. If when we've finished with your friend, all four are still attached, we shall spare you, for now. Though I think you'll look good with some more permanent jewellery. Enjoy cunt."

Giving the string one more tug, and stealing one more glance at the girl's giant stretched tits and her elongated pussy lips, and then moved over to Lucy. She walked around the bent over body of the young woman, running her long fingernails over her womanly back and arse. Moving back the other way, she moved right alongside her head, and yanked her up by her hair.

"Now, it's your turn," Greta relished the venom with which she spoke, instilling the proud girl with fear, "and don't worry, you won't feel left out. Seen as your fellow slave chose you, we wouldn't want to disappoint you. And seen as you are such a whore, I have something very appropriate for you. All you English girls love to fuck and cum, but your hedonistic ways end here. Prepare her."

Hasan moved over to Lucy and began to undo her bondage, whilst Mehmet moved into the background, obviously fetching another heinous device. Having undone her legs first, and the strap across her back, Hasan finally undid her arms and then pulled her up from under her armpits. Meanwhile, Mehmet had returned with the next torture device. It was another heavy set piece of wooden furniture, this time a mighty looking chair. As expected, it was resplendent with buckles and straps, obviously designed to hold the unfortunate victim tightly. There were a number of wires and clips that came off the chair, but the biggest feature was just below the seat. Connect by wires and what looked like a hydraulic mechanism, was a giant dildo, at least as thick as Hasan's massive cock. It looked to be made of plastic, but it was hugely detailed, covered in fake veins. Just behind it was a smaller phallus, but still substantial, that made it clear what was about to happen. Lucy writhed frantically away from Hasan, but he was just too strong. Once Mehmet had positioned the chair directly between Olivia and Holly, he aided Hasan as they strapped Lucy to the chair.

Lucy tried as best she could to struggle away from the two men, but they were far too powerful for her slender body. Handling her roughly, the two men slammed her down on the hard wood, and quickly set about securing her in place, with straps running round her wrists, her ankles, across her stomach, around her head and over her thighs. Strapped in she looked like she were going to the electric chair, a scenario that was not lost on Lucy. She continued to panic as Mehmet and Hasan adjusted the device under the seat, making sure to line it up with both her holes. Whilst Lucy couldn't look down to see what they were doing, she could feel the gap in the wood underneath her two holes, both of which were exposed as her legs were spread to each of the legs. She felt the larger dick come into contact briefly with the lips of her pussy and flinched at the prospect of what was to come. Whilst Hasan was making just a few more minor adjustments, Mehmet positioned himself in front of Lucy, smiling at her the whole time as he brought two thin wires into her eye line. Showing her the crocodile clips at the end of each one, he slowly brought them down to her pert little tits, and clamped one onto each nipple. Lucy, the only one of the girls who hadn't been clamped yet, yelped in pain, but any sound was muffled by her gag. Having finished setting the poor girl up for whatever ordeal lay in store, the two men backed away.

Lucy could do nothing but look straight ahead. She had been tightly strapped to the chair in much the same places she had been strapped to the horse, her wrists and ankles were already sore, and so she was in pain just sitting there. Also sore before this had been her nipples, the pounding Hasan had given her arse had ground them into the wood. But now the pain was more intense. The jaws of the clips bit down into her tender flesh savagely, although she could not tell if they had broken the skin. What worried her more though were the wires emanating from them. Her arse cheeks throbbed from the beating they had taken, and the part of them that was against the wood hurt even more. But the part without any wood, the part that was exposed to those two giant cocks below, that was what worried Lucy. As this was running through her head, Lucy could see Greta move toward her. Her practiced strut toward the bound girl immediately instilled terror into her, and this was exactly the effect the German had hoped for.

"Very nice," Greta looked up and down at Lucy, seemingly pleased with what she saw, "very nice indeed. Now at first you might find this pleasurable, for you are such a little English whore. But trust me, soon you will not. Soon you will be in delicious agony. I hope you are sitting uncomfortably. Yes? Then we shall begin."

Lucy was perplexed and had no idea what was going on as Greta nodded to Hasan, who flicked a remote in his hand. Almost instantly the cock that was just touching her pussy lips arched violently upwards and buried itself in her cunt. Simultaneously, the smaller but not insignificant dick behind it pushed into her abused arsehole. Lucy had not time to adjust to the sensation of both her holes being filled though, as both of the cocks started to buzz frantically. Within seconds Lucy was lost, the pleasure emanating from her crotch almost overwhelming. Her whole body began to shake as the two cocks whirred inside her, her pussy lips already moistening, her hips trying to buck against them to no avail. Lucy tried to throw her head back but couldn't, but for some reason she was oblivious of her situation, all she could feel was the buzzing of the dildos inside her, as she closed her eyes and bit down on the gag. With little over a minute gone, Lucy began to approach her climax. Moaning from behind her gag, Lucy could feel nothing but the pleasure of the violent vibration in her cunt and arse, and the onrushing climax of pleasure that was about to wash....

BBBUUUUZZZZZZ!!!!

Lucy's pleasure turned in an instant into pain. The sudden electric shock seemed to course through her entire body, from the clamps on her nipples through to her hands and feet, positioned on small electrodes that she hadn't seen. The chair was so cunningly designed with wires and contact points so as to make sure the current bypassed any vital organs, but Lucy had no idea. The two cocks had whipped themselves out of her orifices immediately, but Lucy couldn't even notice. She was convinced she was going to die, as her whole body went into spasm. Almost as quickly as it had ended, the shock stopped, and the two dicks were thrust back into her again. Once again a pleasure filled her crotch, but it was a pleasure tinged with pain, her whole body still screaming from the shock. Her natural instincts made her respond once again to the pleasurable sensations, but now her mind was almost certain what was to happen when she reached her climax once again. As much as she wished to resist it though, her body gave in, and soon she was right on the precipice of another fierce orgasm.

Greta watched with glee as the second powerful shock ran through Lucy. Though she had found the first shock the most enjoyable, knowing as she did how surprised the girl would have been, she also knew that with each cycle the pain grew more intense. Each shock was of the same intensity but it had more effect each time, and also made the brief interludes of pleasure more and more painful. Greta couldn't help but allow her fingers to drift down to her pussy as she saw the pain in the girl's eyes after the third shock. She looked across at Holly, just to check how she was getting on. All four pegs were still in place for now, but Greta would make sure that wasn't the case for long. She looked across at Olivia, who was still clearly suffering from the clamps on her nipples and the residual heat from her pussy. Everywhere Greta looked she could see a girl in pain at her own hand, and just the very thought of that almost brought her to climax.

Meanwhile Lucy felt like she was going mad. Five times she had almost reached her climax; five times she had been rudely pulled out of it by a savage electric shock. Sweat cascaded off her body, her pussy was so wet it was dripping into a huge puddle on the floor. Once again the two cocks rammed themselves into her, and Lucy groaned as she knew what was coming. There was no pleasure any more, just pain as they buzzed viciously in her cunt and arse, and as much as she tried to resist, her body still responded. Once more she was taken to the very edge, and then came the inevitable shock. Each time the pain increased, and Lucy was pretty sure she couldn't take any more without going insane. Her body was permanently shaking, her eyes were held wide open in sheer terror, not knowing when this was going to stop. As the dildos forced themselves back into her gaping holes, the tears rolled like waterfalls down her cheeks.

Greta took another look at the suffering Lucy, and turned her attentions to Holly. She knew Lucy couldn't take much more without going insane, and that would be useless, as it was no fun torturing a girl who had lost her mind. She knew that from experience. And so as she allowed Lucy just a couple more goes on her own electric chair, Greta moved over to Holly. The girl was clearly in pain. Her eyes were wide with the strain of trying to balance her weight perfectly between her tits and her pussy, her whole body shaking slightly from the effort it took. She had done rather well to go this long, but Greta had already decided what she wanted to do. She moved her hands over the girl's back, feeling the muscles beneath the skin twitch with the exertion. Her hands continued, moving up her neck and onto her face, her touch as gentle as can be as she circled the girl. Finally she stood in front of her, and Holly couldn't help but try to look at her, terrified as to what she might do.

"You're doing very well. Much better than your friend over there."

Greta gestured with her hand, and Holly's eyes followed, flinching as she saw the pain etched on Lucy's face. She did not know exactly what was happening to her, but to see her strong friend so reduced was crushing.

"But alas it is for nothing. You should know by now I don't play fair. I want to hurt you, and I will. I'm sure by now you can guess where."

Greta leaned forward and stroked Holly's right breast, and almost immediately Holly knew what was coming. Taking a moment to relish the look of realisation on the girl's face, Greta took her hand back and brought it crashing into the soft flesh, just below the nipple. At once the clothes peg flew off, immediately followed by the one on the other nipple. Holly was sent to the floor, the clothes pegs still locked on her pussy lips, her hands still tied behind her back, her tits still aching all over, her nipples exploding with pain as the blood rushed back to them. Greta stood over her, and kicked her hard in the stomach. As Holly tried her best to double up and protect herself, Greta's boot cannoned into her tits. Yet more tears streamed down Holly's face, and Greta booted her boobs a few more times for good measure. Leaving the girl sobbing on the floor, the German went over to Lucy.

"One more?" Hasan asked, knowing full well that Lucy was near the end of her tether.

"Yes."

Lucy was just reaching the climax of yet another orgasm, with no pleasure whatsoever this time, just pain. As she reached the crest and the shock cut in again, and Hasan flicked a switch. The shock continued, and the sheer agony had Lucy screaming as hard as she possibly could into her gag. But, fully expecting another two pronged assault from below, Lucy was relieved beyond measure to find that the machine had been cut off. Her body was still in spasm and dripping with sweat, and she had aches and pains all over, but at least that particular ordeal was over for now. It was only a couple of seconds after the machine had stopped that she realised her cunt was on fire, desperate for release, and so she tried desperately to bring herself off. But it was to no avail. There was a pool of her juices underneath the chair, and every part of her sex was throbbing, but there was nothing she could do about it.

"Horny slut," laughed Mehmet.

"Look at all her juices, whore," Hasan joined in, making Lucy feel even more worthless. Greta came up to her, once again getting right in her face, tugging on her nipple clamps to get her attention.

"You see, whore, this belongs to me," she spat, her hand reaching down and roughly grabbing the girl's cunt, just for a moment, "and only I decide when it can cum. Your days of whoring for pleasure are over. The only pleasure you get to have is that which you give us, or that we allow you to have."

Greta left Lucy in her chair, and gestured to the two men. Taking a quick look around the room, they knew instantly what they were being asked to do. Both went over to Olivia lying prone on the wooden table, and undid her bonds, carrying her into the middle of the room. Fixing her wrists behind her back, though leaving her legs free, they hooked her into the same position Holly had been in for so long, with her weight being held on her shoulders. Olivia had been in something of a daze since her ordeal, but this manhandling quickly woke her up, and the pain in her shoulders ensured she wouldn't be dozing off again. Once she was in position, Mehmet took the weights that had been hanging from Holly's nipple clamps and hooked them onto Olivia's, stretching her beautiful breasts painfully. Now the two men turned their attentions toward Holly. She had hardly moved since she had been sent crashing to the floor by Greta, and she was picked up with ease. Hasan grabbed the girl's legs, while Mehmet's moved his hands under her arms, and of course, rested them underneath her tits. She was carried over to the table, and dropped onto it like a piece of meat. Mehmet took a knife and reached under her body, cutting the rope which held her arms, and then pulled them up to the top of the table, stretching her and securing her in place, the whole time staring at her bouncing, but still sore tits. Meanwhile, Hasan did the same with her legs, spreading them wide to display her newly penetrated pussy, and painfully stretching the girl as if she were on a rack. Mehmet couldn't help but be mesmerised by the girl's chest, her mounds still sticking up high even on her stretched, prone body, with only the tiniest hint of sag to the side. He gave them a swift but vicious slap, one on each globe, admiring the way they wobbled from side to side. Greta marched toward the table.

"Fetch my kit," she snapped as she looked down at her victim for the next few minutes. She too was mesmerised by Holly's tits, so pert despite their size, though with her the main emotion was one of anger. Without seeming to expend any effort at all, Greta got onto the table, and straddled Holly across her stomach, looking directly into her eyes. Holly was terrified, not knowing for sure what was going to happen next, though she had heard it a couple of times. She looked into the woman's piercing eyes, the lack of emotion even scarier. Greta almost smiled at her, before bringing her open right hand down hard on her right breast. Holly had been expecting it, but the savagery of the blow on her tender globes was still exceptionally painful. More followed, the slaps echoing around the room, as Mehmet and Hasan, who was carrying a small leather bag, looked on. Having delivered five blows to each breast, Greta turned her attention to the abused nubs that topped them, twisting pulling and pinching them painfully whilst Holly squirmed underneath. After just a couple of minutes, Greta paused for a moment, looking down at Holly's big pleading eyes. She then bent over slightly, squeezing Holly's tits together, before taking one of her sore nipples into her mouth. Tenderly she began to suck it, using her teeth lightly against it to stimulate the sensitive nub. Soon the nipple was standing to attention, against the wishes of its owner, and Greta moved across to the other tit, sucking that nipple hard as well. Moving back up again, Greta rolled both nipples between her fingers, keeping them hard, while she looked across at Hasan.

Hasan brought up the leather bag and placed it down on the table. He opened it out, for it was similar to one a doctor or butcher might carry their tools in, and showed it to Greta. Holly leaned across hoping to get a glimpse of what was in there, but both her tits and Greta got in the way. Greta reached down and took a long thin needle, and two silver rings in her hands, before turning back and looking Holly right in the eyes, smiling at the pain she was going to inflict on her. She brought the needle up so that Holly could see it, and her reaction was immediate. Frantically she moved from side to side, desperate to shake Greta off and stop what she was going to do, but her bonds were too tight, and all she succeeded in doing was wiggling her body slightly. Gleefully Greta brought the needle to Holly's right nipple, toying with the nub slightly as she drank in the fear in the girl's big eyes.

"Stay still cunt, or this will hurt a lot more.

Greta grabbed hold of Holly's right tit so her nipple was pointing straight up, and then pushed the needle through it slowly, increasing the pain as she moved it forward painfully slow. Holly wailed into her gag as Greta pierced her flesh, quickly and skilfully pushing the metal all the way through and quickly replacing it with a small ring. Greta gave her no time to get used to her new jewellery, and roughly clamped her hand on the other globe. Once again the German passed the needle through the poor girl's nipple, and quick as a flash inserted another metal ring. Greta leaned back slightly and admired her handiwork, those luscious mounds topped by two shiny silver rings. She tugged hard on them, enjoying the tears running down her slave's face as her newly pierced tits were abused further. After abusing her tits for a good five minutes, twisting pulling and squeezing them brutally as she savoured the look of anguish on Holly's face, Greta suddenly stopped and stood up on the table. Reaching up to the ceiling, she pulled down two thin wires with little hooks attached, and brought them down to Holly's chest. Carefully she clipped each one onto one of the rings, then released slowly. The wires, on little pulleys, moved back up toward the ceiling, stretching Holly's tits up by the nipples. Whilst there was no danger of the rings tearing through her nipples, Greta had made sure of that, her globes were now painfully stretched into a sort of cone shape. Greta admired her handiwork for a moment then signalled to Mehmet and Hasan.

The two men sprang into action. Mehmet disappeared into the back of the room, while Hasan walked over to where Lucy still sat in her chair, still desperately trying to get herself off. Hasan smiled as her undid first the clamps from her nipples, then each of her bonds in turn, before finally undoing those that held her wrists. Once he had untied her he took hold of her wrists and dragged her over to the table before forcing her onto her knees, keeping her wrists firmly in his grasp. Meanwhile Mehmet emerged from the darkness, and Holly looked over to see what implement was going to be used to torture her next. She winced when she saw. Mehmet held in his hands a long thin cane, a short paddle, and a huge strap on. Holly panicked, but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop whatever they had in mind. Greta seemed to ignore Mehmet's delivery, and walked straight over to Lucy.

"Look at me," Greta snapped, and when Lucy didn't respond immediately she slapped her hard across the face, the sound echoing around the room. Lucy immediately looked up at Greta, her eyes immediately filled with tears, her hips still gyrating fruitlessly.

"I see you're still horny, whore," Greta continued, "Well maybe if you're good we can do something about that. If you do exactly what I say, exactly, then you will have your release. And if you try to relieve yourself before time, you know the consequences."

Greta forced Lucy's head round so she was looking at Olivia, whom Mehmet had moved over to and now held his knife in the familiar position by her nipple, ready to slice it off at a moments notice. Lucy gulped, knowing how hard it would be for her to resist touching herself, yet knowing she must. Greta stared at her, then nodded at Hasan, who reached down with one hand and unclipped Lucy's gag. Lucy took a second to acclimatise, before looking straight back up at Greta.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes mistress."

"Good, follow me."

Greta moved round to where Mehmet had laid down the toys, and picked up the long thin cane. She brought it swishing through the air a few times, making sure everyone, including Holly, knew what was about to happen. She brought it to Holly's upright breasts, brushing it up and down her soft flesh so she was in no doubt of the pain she was in store for. Greta clicked her fingers toward Lucy, who shuffled toward her on her knees obediently. Once there, Greta positioned the girl between her and the table, making sure she was staring directly into her crotch.

"Now whore, you will lick my cunt while I thrash your friends udders."

Greta looked down at Lucy, who stared up at her wide eyed, before doing what she knew she had to do. Like Olivia she had never done it before, but she knew there would be so many firsts down in this basement that she simply got on with it. Not wasting any time she pressed her tongue against Greta's pussy, her lips still slightly open and moist from Olivia's attention. As soon as she felt Lucy was getting on well with her task, Greta brought the cane swinging through the air and straight into Holly's tits.

The sound of the wood on soft flesh echoed loudly around the room. As soon as it made contact a long red stripe emerged on Holly's abused mounds. To go with the crack of the cane, a muffled tortured scream rang out from Holly's mouth. Lucy heard what was going on, and felt such shame that she was pleasuring this woman as she tortured her friend, but she knew she had no choice. Greta smiled as she brought the cane down once more on Holly. She had two beautiful girls with her now, one taking the full force of her sadistic pleasures, the other tonguing her pussy. She thought for a moment of having Olivia over so all three were pleasuring her, but she decided to leave that for another day. As she brought the cane down once more, Greta allowed herself a slight groan of pleasure as Lucy's tongue worked surprisingly skilfully on her already moist sex.

Lucy tried her best to ignore what was happening above her as she focused entirely on Greta's cunt, hoping that by making her cum she could end her friend's suffering and hopefully receive permission to cum herself. Her sex was still throbbing with desire and her hips were gyrating involuntarily, but she knew the last thing she could do was to touch herself. Instead, whilst the sounds of the cane thrashing Holly's chest again and again rang out around the room, Lucy used every trick she could think of to pleasure Greta. She ran her tongue up and down the outer lips, buried it inside, sucked the woman's clit into her mouth. Whatever she could think of she did in a desperate attempt to end this nightmare. As she worked she felt Greta's free hand, the one that wasn't horribly thrashing Holly's tits, move to the back of head and slowly force her deeper and deeper into her cunt. Allied with this, Greta began to thrust her hips into Lucy's face as the pleasure began to build.

Meanwhile Mehmet was having his own fun. Standing next to Olivia in case of Lucy's disobedience he decided it was a little unfair for her to be left out, and so decided to hurt her as well. He pulled back on her hair so that she was looking straight into his eyes and began to slap her perfect perky tits with his free hand, first softly and the progressively harder, until the sound of his hand crashing into her was just about audible, even with the cane. Greta looked over at Mehmet to see what was happening, and smiled as she watched him abuse her slave. She had definitely taught him well. As well as slapping her tits, Mehmet also played with Olivia's clamped nipples, pulling and tugging on each one alternately, all the time making sure she was looking directly into his eyes.

This went on for several minutes, each girl being tortured in a different way, sounds of slaps, cracks and muffled screams ringing around the room. Soon Greta's juices were flowing freely, and she decided it was time to move to the next stage. Abruptly she stopped thrashing Holly, tossed the cane to Hasan, and dragged Lucy up by her hair till she was at eye level. She dragged her away a few paces, just as Hasan continued with the cane torture. Once she was far enough away, Greta whispered menacingly in Lucy's ear.

"Now if you wish to be relieved you must continue to obey me. Now it is you who will torture Tits. You will be given a strap on, with which you will fuck her cunt. You will also be given a paddle, with which you will beat her tits. You will not say a word to her. You will not mouth a word to her. You will remain stone faced. She will be licking my cunt, but I will be watching your actions carefully. If you cum before I allow it, Blondie loses a nipple. If you do not beat those tits enthusiastically, Blondie loses a nipple. You have seen how we have tortured you. Now you will do the same. Understood?"

Lucy was stunned and shaken, but her answer was immediate.

"Yes mistress."

The two women walked back to the table, where Hasan had just dropped the cane and fetched the rest of the equipment. Tears welled up in Lucy's eyes as she saw Holly. The underside of her tits were now a vibrant red, covered with streaks all across them, in some places almost drawing blood. Lucy was sick at the idea she would have to cause her more pain. But she would. Hasan moved over to her and quickly attached the strap on, fitting it tightly over her cunt. It was only now it was on her that she could see how big and thick it was, and she felt even sicker. Hasan handed her the paddle, which she took grudgingly, and then moved over to untie Holly's legs. She lay still even without the bonds, too scared even to move. Hasan also undid the belt across her stomach, meaning her whole bottom half could be manoeuvred into any position. He next moved to her tits and unhooked the pieces of wire, which shot upwards, and her breasts fell back into their gorgeous natural position. Finally Hasan moved to her head, and with one finger on his lips telling her to stay quiet, he undid her gag. Holly remained quite, all too aware that any sound she made would only worsen her plight. Greta gestured to Lucy.

It was all Lucy could do not to burst into tears, or to shout her apologies to Holly. But she knew she mustn't. She approached the table slowly, only delaying the inevitable. The room was strangely silent, even Mehmet had stopped toying with Olivia to watch the show. As she neared the table Hasan patted it, signalling her to get onto it. This Lucy did. She was on her knees between Holly's legs, the tip of the dildo swinging slightly to and fro. She looked at Holly's face, and Holly looked back. With Hasan watching her closely she knew she could not even mouth what she wanted to say, but with her eyes she tried to convey how sorry she was. As she edged closer, Hasan grabbed Holly's legs and lifted them into the air. When Lucy was close enough that the dildo was just inches away, Hasan rested Holly's legs on Lucy's shoulders, and gestured to Lucy to get on with it. Lucy obeyed. She shuffled forward quickly so that the dildo rested at the entrance to Holly's pussy, and taking one look at Greta, she looked down into Holly's eyes she pushed forward.

Holly groaned as the long thick shaft of the dildo pushed into her tight cunt. It was slow going, for though she was no longer a virgin her vagina was still exceedingly tight, and gripped the plastic of the strap on like a vice. Lucy knew she had no choice but to bury it as far as it could go, so she leaned forward and forced it in, inevitably hurting Holly in the process. It wasn't long before she realised it could go no further. She was now leaning over Holly, bending her legs back on her, the paddle in one hand. Lucy's hips pulled back, drawing the shaft of the dildo out, before pushing back in again slowly. Steadily Lucy began to thrust in and out of Holly, trying to cause as little pain as possible. Greta walked up to the table, and stared menacingly at Lucy, showing her displeasure. Lucy gulped, knowing that the time was now, and she raised her right hand.

The sound of the paddle crashing into Holly's breast sickened Lucy to her very core, though not as much as the cry of pain her friend, no longer inhibited by the gag, let out. What made it worse was that she knew she would have to do it again. Pulling the strap on out as far as she could, so just the tip remained inside, Lucy's next strike was accompanied by a hard thrust. The cry was even louder this time, but Lucy knew she could not stop. This time she moved her hand over to Holly's left breast, and with her next thrust brought the paddle down hard right on her newly pierced nipple. Holly's scream was piercing as her incredibly sore tits received yet more torture. Lucy though didn't stop. The pace of her thrusts began to increase steadily, as did the frequency of her blows with the paddle. She remained oblivious to Holly's screams, even when she begged for Lucy to stop, for she knew she had no choice. All her anger at the situation, every bit of hate she held for Greta and her two assistants, she poured into her assault on Holly. Before long she was pounding in and out of her friend's pussy, and raining down blows on her sensitive tits with a ferocity that took even Greta by surprise.

Holly screamed at the top of her voice as the paddle struck onto her sore left nipple. The pain she had endured over the last hours had been dreadful, especially the abuse to her tits, but as her best friend brought the paddle down on her much abused chest she was brought into a new world of pain. She looked up at her friend as another blow came crashing down and her pussy received another pounding. Lucy stared down into her eyes, and Holly was shocked by the maliciousness in her face, and the viciousness of her blows and thrusts. She had initially assumed Lucy was being told to hurt her, but now it seemed as if her friend wanted to torture and abuse her. Through the physical pain, the emotional pain as she watched her friend seemingly revel in her suffering. She had no idea how much this was hurting Lucy, to be the one inflicting this on her best friend. But to Holly each strike on her sensitive globes was just as much a blow to her heart.

Now Lucy had taken to her task so well, Greta decided she could finish herself off on her toy's face. She walked round to Holly's head and moved her hands either side of her innocent face. Holly looked up to see Greta's smiling face looking down, obviously thoroughly enjoying both girl's suffering. Having drunk in the sounds of Holly's whimpers, she had lost the energy to scream, Greta moved effortlessly onto the table and without warning forced her cunt right into Holly's face. Whilst grinding her pussy into her face Greta looked up and winked at Lucy, as if both of them were enjoying the rape and torture of her friend. Holly could barely breathe as her mouth and nose were covered by Greta's cunt. Holly kept squealing as Lucy continued to pound into her pussy and beat her tits, but she didn't lick or do anything to bring Greta off.

"Whore," Greta spoke to Lucy as if they were on the same side, "tell Tits to lick her mistresses cunt."

Lucy couldn't believe what she was going to have to say to Holly, for she knew from the look she had seen in Holly's eyes that she thought it was for real. And yet to save all of them, she would have to obey. She stopped fucking her for a moment, and reached down with her left hand to twist Holly's sensitive nipple, trying to get her attention.

"Tits," Lucy almost gagged on the words as they came out, "lick you mistress' cunt."

Holly couldn't believe her ears. Lucy had twisted her sore nipple, called her Tits, and then commanded her to lick the pussy of a woman who had been torturing her for hours. Tears streamed down her face at the ultimate betrayal of her friend, but she knew she had no choice. Must like Lucy had to do as she was told to save herself and her friends, so Holly now began to lap her tongue against Greta's dripping lips. Whilst she had none of the skill Lucy had shown, the fact Greta sat atop her allowed her to grind into her face, and so it wasn't long before waves of pleasure began to course through her. She signalled to Lucy, who began to fuck again, but as her hand was raised to bring the paddle down again Greta stopped her, asking for the paddle herself. Lucy handed it over, slightly relieved that she would not longer have to beat her friend. However, it meant the paddle was now in the hands of a sadist, and a sadist that loved torturing Holly.

As Greta grinded her pussy into Holly's face, she wielded the paddle menacingly, before predictably bringing it crashing into Holly's flesh. She beat Holly's tit mercilessly, not pausing for even a second, whilst with her other she pulled and twister her newly pierced nipple. Her cunt juices mixed with Holly's tears as Greta got closer and closer toward her climax. She ground her pussy into Holly's face as if she were trying to force it down her throat, and if it were possible the speed and violence of her assault on those delicious mounds intensified. Lucy looked on in amazement as Greta's whole body began to shake with the waves of pleasure that coursed through her. Greta dropped the paddle as both her hands squeezed Holly's tits as hard as they possibly could, while her juices visibly cascaded down the poor girl's face, threatening to drown her. She let out a huge shriek of pleasure, filling the room with the sound of her climax. After what seemed like an age the climax subsided and Greta slowly released Holly's breasts from her vice like grip, and shuffled back to allow Holly to breathe properly. Holly spluttered as she desperately filled her lungs with air. Greta stepped off the table and put her hands either side of Holly's face, bent down and shoved her tongue into her mouth. The invasion of her tongue into Holly's mouth was a perfect metaphor for the whole situation the girl's found themselves in. Greta then stood back up and looked into Holly's pleading doe like eyes.

"What do you say cunt?"

For a moment Holly had no idea what she meant, and she was filled with panic as she feared the backlash. Then it popped into her head, the thing Lucy and Olivia had been forced to say following each of their terrible tortures. Quickly Holly prepared herself, ready to utter the first words she'd said during this whole ordeal.

"T-t-than-an-n-k y-y-you, m-m-miss-tr-tress."

"Properly Tits."

"Thank you mistress."

"Now, lick her."

Greta pointed at Lucy, who was still crouching with the dildo inside Holly's pussy, having stopped fucking as soon as Greta had begun her spectacular climax. The shame of what she had had to do to her friend had somewhat distracted her from how horny she was. Suddenly it all came flooding back, and as Hasan moved round to undo the strap on her hips began to gyrate again. Lucy knew she had no choice, that the only way she could get herself off, as well as hopefully end Holly's suffering. Slowly she edged over Holly's body, carefully putting her legs back down, before inching up her torso toward her friend's face. Once her knees were either side of Holly's face, Lucy slowly lowered her pussy toward Holly's mouth, still taking care not to show any emotion which might get them even more hurt. She looked down into Holly's eyes as her pussy lips came into contact with her lips, and she felt sickened at the shame written all over her friends face as she flicked her tongue out. Holly reluctantly but obediently ran her tongue over Lucy's moist cunt, struggling to believe what she was doing. And as uncomfortable as Lucy felt having her pussy licked by her best friend, she began to let her primal desires get the better of her, and as her juices dripped down onto Holly's face her hips began to gyrate, and she began to emit a low moan. Steadily Lucy's hips began to move down until she was virtually grinding on Holly's face, lost in her own world of pleasure. She could feel the waves of climax building up, about to wash over her whole body. Then suddenly she realised what she had to do, and looked up at Greta who was stood staring at her. It took a moment for Lucy to realise what was expected of her.

"Please mistress," she began, still desperate to relieve herself, "may I cum?"

"Beg."

"Please mistress, please please may I cum?"

"Yes whore, you may cum."

"Thank you mistress."

With that Lucy grinded down hard on Holly's face and came instantly. It had been building for so long that when it came it was the most intense orgasm Lucy had ever had, as once again Holly's face was covered in pussy juice once again. Lucy shook as wave after wave of unbelievable pleasure washed over her, her cunt grinding into Holly's face. It seemed to last forever, despite being only thirty seconds, but as it subsided Lucy looked down at her friend and was filled with shame as she saw her juices cascading down her face. She stared at the misery she had caused Holly and knew that if they ever go out of this predicament their friendship would never be the same again. She didn't have long to mull over what had happened though, as Greta quickly snapped her back to the present.

"What do you say whore?"

"Thank you mistress."

"Thank you for what?

"For letting me cum mistress."

"Good whore," Greta said, before looking back down at Holly, "and what do you say?"

Holly was unsure what she was supposed to be saying, but she knew it would be something degrading that she would have to grovel and say thank you for.

"Thank you mistress."

"Thank me for your tit rings," Greta was loving the degradation she was putting her through.

"Thank you mistress," Holly said through a veil of yet more tears, and then as she looked up and saw Greta obviously waiting for more, "for my....tit rings."

Greta smiled and stroked Holly's damp hair patronisingly, before turning to Hasan and nodding. Hasan moved toward Lucy and lifted her off Holly's prone figure, and set her down on the floor, holding her hands tightly behind her back. Quickly he tied a rope quickly around her wrists, making sure it was tight, and then threaded the loose end of the rope between Lucy's legs. Greta walked over to where she stood, and looked her up and down.

"Very impressive whore. I see you're learning well. Tonight you will stay elsewhere, with Hasan and Mehmet keeping you company. Take her."

Hasan led a very confused and apprehensive Lucy up the stairs by the rope end, walking quickly enough that Lucy struggled to keep up. The sounds of their footsteps on the stone steps slowly died down, and on hearing the door at the top slam shut Greta sprang into action.

"Truss these whores up Mehmet."

Mehmet wasted no time upon hearing his orders. He quickly unhooked Olivia's arms from her strappado position and with his arms hooked just under her breasts he brought her over to the table. Almost effortlessly he lifted her up and on top of Holly. Before she could make any sort of adjustment he manoeuvred her so that her face was right over Holly's pussy, took the gag out of her mouth then pushed her head down. Olivia's mouth was now being forced directly on to Holly's pussy, her nose just centimetres away from her arsehole. Mehmet took another of the straps on the table, and put it around Olivia's head, preventing her from moving away. He next moved up toward Holly's head, and forced Olivia's pussy into Holly's slick face, and took another strap and secured it in place. He stepped back and smirked, looking at the two beautiful girls secured in a 69 position, as they would be the entire night.

Greta gave Olivia a firm slap on the arse, and then turned around and started up the stairs, with Mehmet in tow. Holly and Olivia could do nothing as the footsteps slowly petered out, and then with the shut of the door, they were plunged into darkness.


Chapter 4 (added: 2016/03/09)

Quickly dragging Lucy up the stairs to a large oak door, Hasan held the rope in one hand and pressed his thumb to a brick in the archway. With a click, the huge wooden door slowly opened and Hasan moved through, tugging the rope sharply and making a fear-filled Lucy half-run to keep up. As they moved through a long corridor, dim orange lights in medieval style sconces flicked on, until they came to a large door flanked by two smaller ones. Hasan again placed his thumb against a seemingly innocuous stone in the wall and, with a click, the small left door opened.

Inside a solitary light bulb swung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the dank room. In one corner was a solitary blanket on the cold stone floor, in the other a metal bucket. One wall had a large mirror and an alarm clock. Lucy looked into the room and then at Hasan who placed his hand in the small of her back and pushed her sprawling onto the floor. He then moved to the other room across the hallway, and came back with a long thick dildo. "You are lucky, girl" Hasan hissed, leaning through the door, "you will sleep here free while your friends are tied up. But you have job to do. Every hour you must fuck yourself. In front of the mirror. You use this." tossing the dildo in front of Lucy. "But very important, you cannot cum. You must get right to edge but stop before you cum. We will watch you. Every hour, remember. I show you how. Pick it up."

He came through the door and stood, waiting, while the still prone Lucy was wondering how she could pick it up with her hands tied behind her back. She stared up at him, his horse-like cock at half mast in her eye line, and shuffled onto her knees. Her eyes moved to the giant phallus on the floor. Suddenly she realised what she had to do and was disgusted by how low they wanted her to sink. Slowly she bent and, with some difficulty, grasped the thick shaft of the black rubber cock in her teeth. Once secure, she offered it up to Hasan.

"Good girl," Hasan said, pairing the patronising compliment with a pat on the head, just as he would a dog. Then, kneeling behind her, he grabbed a chunk of her hair and twisted her face to the mirror. Lucy now saw herself for the first time. The hand pulling her hair moved to delicately brush her hair behind her ears so she could see clearly. Her hair was a mess, she noted absently, her face was the same but her eyes lacked life. She brooded over the totally different person looking back at her. Then her assailant's handsome face loomed over her right shoulder while his left hand reached round and put the massive dildo up to her pussy lips, still open from her recent orgasm, guiding the monster into Lucy's hole. She moaned slightly as the cold tip of the phallus passed through her lips and into her vagina, part in pleasure and part in helpless shame that she couldn't stop being abused yet again. Using one hand to slowly inch the shaft into her cunt, Hasan ran the other up her torso to grip a pert tit and whispered in her ear.

"Fuck yourself, bitch."

The contradiction between his gentle touch and harsh order momentarily shocked Lucy, but she quickly recovered, remembering how cruelly he had raped her arse and mouth. With his right hand securing the dildo in place, she spread her legs and slowly slid down the veined rubber till her pussy was so full that even Hasan knew it couldn't go any further. Then, as his hand continued to softly maul her breast, she used her strong thighs to push herself up the shaft before sliding down again.

Hasan smiled as he watched Lucy in the mirror strain herself to get up and down the shaft, his fingers toying with her nipple to make it hard. The grimace of pain on her face from her exertions was softening with pleasure, the friction of the black cock irresistible despite her humiliation at how she was forced to use it. As the heat built inside her, she felt Hasan's other hand massaging her tit, her nipple still sore from being clamped in that terrible chair. Though the strain of pushing herself up and down burnt her thighs, she continued, her pace even slightly increasing as Hasan's hot breath on the back of her neck and the throbbing cock she felt pressing into her arse cheeks, drove her toward another orgasm. She was close and began moaning louder with each penetration until her juices coated the dildo's shaft, praying he would let her finish before he left.

Hasan could see she was on the verge of climax but waited a little, watching her face when she was so close to cumming. She really was incredibly beautiful and before he met Greta, he would have tried to fuck her legally and with her consent. But he knew his job and he wasn't going to let any passing fancy for this whore get in the way. Abruptly the hand massaging her left breast squeezed and twisted her nipple hard as his right hand whipped the cock from her aching pussy. Lucy desperately stretched forward to finish herself off but Hasan kept it well out of reach. The unfulfilled look on her whorish face proved he had perfectly timed his exit, her hips still bucking as she searched for that climax. He waited until she had calmed down before untying her hands and stood up, leaving her crumpled in a heap on the floor.

"Remember," he said, watching her hands move towards her pussy, "you cannot cum. If you cum, we kill one of your friends. See you tomorrow, whore."

With that, he shut the door, leaving Lucy lying in the bulb's dim light. Her eyes had opened wide when he said he would kill her friends. As terrible as it had been, the magnitude of her situation kept getting ratcheted up, this just the latest of a steady stream of shocks in this terrible ordeal. She looked around and realised that all she had was a blanket to sleep under and a bucket. Crawling to the corner, she wrapped herself in the blanket, the first time she had been covered in hours. Finally alone with her thoughts, Lucy thought about what she had done with Holly so many long minutes before. She knew she had had no choice but to obey, but it had still broken her heart as she pounded in and out of her friend, each time crashing the paddle onto Holly's chest. A crushing hopelessness filled her. The long corridor, the sophisticated gadgetry and practiced moves of these people indicated a serious intent. Both she and her friends were in deep trouble. She looked at the dildo in front of her and then to the alarm clock. It had no hour hand but the minute hand showed another half hour until she had to humiliate herself for their pleasure. She felt at a complete and utter loss, her pride now reduced to nothing. But, having realised that, with characteristic strength, she just curled up in the blanket and closed her eyes.

He almost cried as the woman in the sharp black suit told him, sternly and with little compassion, that he no longer had a job at the bank. She'd tried to be compassionate, although she suspected she hadn't convinced him. After detailing his severance package, she apologised, shook his hand and invited him to leave. After he left, she sank into her chair and looked over the monthly accounts, checking for any glaring discrepancies. Though nominally the bank's chairperson, she really only came in when it suited her. Today was just such a day, for she felt having her face seen would be useful even if she was sure she was under no suspicion. In truth, her mind was elsewhere.

Greta's thoughts were focused on the three young women she had in her basement. Flicking her mouse, she brought up the news article she had been reading where those same girls stared at her, their beautiful faces accompanying the latest news of the investigation to find them. As she read what their family and friends in England said of them, she smiled and her hand drifted to her crotch. Continuing to browse, she not only relished the pain she had and would cause but sought to track the investigation whose last information was that they were in a bar. But neither Mehmet or Hasan were mentioned. She would send Hasan to his bar job that evening to give a statement to any police sniffing around. Avoiding suspicion required keeping up normal appearances. In time, she could muddy the investigation, updating social networking sites, sending text messages and the like. But it was too risky just now and she was too preoccupied with the best part of her job, breaking in the fresh talent. In truth they were desperately needed. Her stock was becoming stale and she knew her clients would soon think the same. Her employees hadn't been pulling their weight either, having not procured anything decent since those Czech bitches three months ago. It had all been a bit depressing and these new additions had breathed fresh life into her. So, since she wouldn't be picked up for another hour, Greta looked at the computer screen and settled down to enjoy herself.

Olivia woke from what could barely be described as sleep, her face still buried in Holly's pussy. She had no idea how long they had been bound like this because she had been constantly slipping in and out of consciousness but it had surely been hours. They'd tried to talk as soon as they were alone but it had not worked. Her face had been forced so deep into Holly's sex that all she could do was move her tongue against her lips. A similar response from Holly had created muffled sounds not resembling speech at all. So they remained silent, their bodies stretched tight along the table. Olivia tried to sleep but it was impossible not to remember the scenes of the previous hours. Her nipples were still sore from the clamps that had bitten down on them, her pussy was still sore from her chilli torture, and her whole body ached from every blow inflicted during her ordeal. Since they had lined her up on Holly despite her shorter frame, her body, arms and legs were stretched tight. And with each passing hour, the pain grew greater and greater.

But whatever Olivia's pain, Holly's was worse. She too was stretched on the table, her arms and legs pulled to their limit. She too was sore all over from her captors' tormenting handling. But the main source of pain were her breasts which felt sore enough to fall off. Her nipples throbbed with pain, the silver rings pressed into Olivia's body causing her exquisite agony. With every subtle movement of either of their bodies, an explosion of pain coursed through Holly's globes. It wasn't just her nipples either, for the entire surface of her breasts had been beaten so hard that just the pressure of Olivia's body caused terrible pain. Moving further down, her pussy ached as well. After Mehmet and Lucy had fucked her previously virgin cunt, a dull throbbing pain emanated from her sex which even Olivia's soft lips resting on her pussy couldn't solve. If Holly had any tears left she would have shed them. Instead she stared blankly into the dark and tried desperately to sleep.

The ringing alarm echoing loudly around the small cell woke Lucy instantly. For the third time since she had been in here, she stood up and walked over to the large wall mirror. Sitting down before it, she spread her legs, exposing herself entirely, and stared into her pussy as she picked up the dildo in her right hand while her left slowly rubbed her clit. Slowly she lifted the heavy toy and put it at the entrance of her pussy. Despite being well on the way after two rounds of this, she still rubbed her clit to lubricate herself and then steadily pushed the dildo into her vagina. As she inched the shaft up her hole, she continued to rub her clit and soon felt her sex tingling, hardly surprising given how warmed up she was. But she kept her eyes fixed on what her hands were doing, not wanting to look herself in the eye while she humiliated herself for their pleasure.

The heat in her loins grew stronger as one hand pumped the toy in and out while the other rubbed her sensitive clit with greater intensity. Despite her situation, she hadn't changed much and still enjoyed the pleasure washing over her. As the speed of her hands increased, her body remembered playing with herself, so much so that she almost forgot where she was or what she had to do, closing her eyes and making increasingly passionate moans and groans, imagining herself home as if nothing had happened. But she knew it couldn't last and as she reached for her climax she slowed down, the fingers on her left hand moving reluctantly away from her clit while her right slowly withdrew the dildo from her hole. She had made sure she sounded convincing, as if she had brought herself right to the very edge of orgasm. Lucy's hand shook as she took the dildo from her body and placed it on the floor beside her. Taking a moment to compose herself, she looked down between her legs at the large puddle on the floor, evidence that she was doing what was ordered. Her eyes slowly moved from the floor to the mirror, looking first at her open pussy lips before checking her body and her face. Her face was still beautiful, her features sharp, even if the puffiness of her eyes and cheeks showed she had been crying. One thing had changed; her eyes now stared back with a certain hardness. She knew her captors thought they had broken her by turning her on her friend but the opposite was true. She was as determined to get out or to mentally resist as she was at the beginning. But as the most intelligent of the trio, she had realised very early on that she could only do so by appearing cooperative. She was convinced that she would not break no matter what they did, biding her time until an opportunity came. So she kept up her humiliated persona as she crawled over to the blanket, part acting frustrated at her lack of climax. As she tried to get comfortable beneath the inadequate cover, she gave a little hidden defiant smile.

Greta stared blankly through the window as her car drove through the first of the castle gates. She had been thinking about her toys all day and the ride home was no different. Although she seemed to be in total control of her actions and of planning out the entire scenario beforehand, in truth she made up much as she went along. She knew the basic steps and psychology of how to break girls but it was more fun to improvise on the process. This was especially true given how different the girls were. It was almost beyond belief that she had found three such beautiful girls who were so different, physically, emotionally and mentally. She knew how she would break each one for she knew each one's personality and limits, but what she didn't know was how far along each of them was. She had been doing this too long to be fooled into second guessing these things.

Waiting patiently for her driver to open the door, she smiled politely as she stepped out, briefcase in one hand, like any other businesswoman in the world. She thanked him and walked deliberately toward the entrance. It really was a magnificent residence, and Greta had an army of people keeping it in tip top condition, although most had finished for the night. She walked to the door and the porter opened it immediately, Greta thanking him with a small smile as she continued into the house. She wasted no time going upstairs, to shower and prepare for her girls.

Olivia woke quickly when the blinding light pierced the dark, burning her eyes through her lids. Though she had only half slept during the night, the sudden burst of light made her feel woken from a deep sleep. When Olivia heard the dreaded clack of high heels on the stone steps, Holly began squirming beneath her, the poor girl obviously terrified by what would be done to her next. The blonde was tied so tight that all she could do was roll her eyes up to look straight ahead. Greta was coming down the last few steps to the stone floor, walking deliberately toward the table, each menacing step chilling Olivia to her soul. Behind her was Mehmet, dressed in the same shirt and pants of their first meeting. That felt so long ago, as if she had been here for weeks rather than hours. Moving to Olivia's front, Greta ran her hand down her face, stroking her cheeks with her long fingers. But Olivia was reminded that the tender touch on her face was only temporary since she was level with Greta's crotch and could see the woman's pussy under her corset. Greta gestured Mehmet to undo the strap around Olivia's head, releasing her mouth from Holly's pussy. Cupping Olivia's chin, she stretched her head painfully until the girl looked up into her tormentor's eyes.

"Wakey, wakey," Greta said in a thoroughly unconvincing cheerful voice, "we have a busy time ahead, so let's get you fed and watered." With that, Mehmet undid the buckles holding Olivia on top of Holly and unceremoniously dragged her to the floor. With her arms still tied behind her back, she was forced to simply kneel on the cold stones.

"Feed the bitch, Mehmet," Greta snapped and walked toward Holly who shuddered when she saw her. Greta trailed her long fingers up Holly's body from her pussy to her stomach and then between her battered tits, softly over her neck and then her face, stroking her cheeks and hair like a loving mother with a child. After a few moments, Greta moved back to her toys, enjoying Holly's winces at each touch of her sensitive flesh. The cruel hands then moved to her extremely sensitive pierced nipples and, after a moment, tugged hard on her silver rings. Holly wailed. Without a gag she could scream although her sore throat could make no really loud sound. Greta wiggled the rings and revelled in the hoarse shouts of pain erupting from the girl's pretty little mouth. Tears once more fell from those beautiful big eyes, refreshing the dried pool of tears from her previous tortures.

"Those rings look very pretty, Tits," Greta said, "but we're going to replace them with something smaller, just for the next few games." With that, Greta retrieved the same kit she had used to pierce Holly's tits, placed it near her face and effortlessly leapt onto the table to straddle the girl's midriff. Once again her hands went to Holly's tits, slapping them with moderate force a few times just to hear her howls of pain. Greta closed her eyes to better listen to the sounds, now dying down to a mewling whimper, as she alternated between slapping the soft flesh of her breasts and pulling or twisting her nipple's tender nubs. After a good few minutes, Greta stopped and looked down at her plaything's face, her eyes shut as if that would make the pain go away. The German then opened the leather kit, taking out two small rods of metal with tiny balls on each end and small bottle of antibacterial gel. She thought about getting Holly to open her eyes but decided it was pointless so she grasped Holly's right tit and rubbed the nipple a few times before unclipping the silver ring. Holly felt the removal of her piercing and immediately sprang to life, obviously terrified of what would happen next. Greta squirted some gel onto the nipple and rubbed it in, preventing infection not for Holly's sake but because she didn't want to look at an infected nipple. Next she pulled Holly's nipple up to see the hole which made the girl enjoyably cry. Taking the small rod in the other hand, she pushed one end through the hole, the ball marginally too big to go through.

Holly squealed as the rod pushed through her abused nipple, the ball not fitting in the hole without a lot of force. Both Greta's fingernails pulling up her nipple and the new piercing being forced through created a new pain, doubled by the psychological torment of seeing her torturer smile at her hurt. After what felt like minutes of pain but was only 15 seconds, Greta released her nipple with its new piercing and the sharp pain subsided into a dull ache. But Holly now knew what was coming as Greta's hand moved to her other nipple and pulled it up sharply. As the pain ripped through her tortured tit, she again whimpered as the small metal rod was pressed against the hole, this time squirming as it was agonisingly pushed through her raw nub. Greta was irked.

"Keep still, you little bitch," she snapped. She could have pushed the new piercing through much quicker but she just couldn't resist the little sounds Holly made or her look of anguish. The thought of what she would be like later made Greta so wet that her juices dripped onto Holly's stomach. Finally she popped the little round ball at the end of the rod into the nipple and leaned back to admire her handiwork. The piercings were barely visible in Holly's swollen nipples, allowing a mouth to get fully around each aureole without too much metal in the way. Greta tested it out, grasping the right tit firmly before putting her mouth down and sucking in as much nipple and tit flesh as she could. Holly squealed as the powerful suction again made her breasts to throb with pain, and squealed again as Greta repeated it on the other tit. Giving each globe a few quick slaps and a kiss to show she was satisfied, Greta jumped off the table.

As Greta worked on Holly's tits, Mehmet fed Olivia. Going into the back room, he returned with two bowls which he put before her, one filled with a porridge-like sludge, the other water.

"Eat," Mehmet snapped, "drink."

Olivia was hungry and so, abandoning all dignity, immediately began eating the porridge the only way she could with her hands tied, bending forward and scooping the cold sludge with her tongue. Initially she tried to keep her face away from it but soon realised she had no choice but to eat like a dog and plunge in. She ate noisily, the contents of the bowl disappearing quickly, and was soon licking the bottom to get every last morsel, finally running her tongue round her mouth. She paused, warily waiting for any new commands, before doing the same with the water. She was so thirstily engrossed in drinking that she didn't notice Hasan saunter in until he stood beside Mehmet. She was humiliated at having to eat and drink like an animal in front of these rapists. When Greta whistled, Hasan went over to receive instructions. While Olivia knelt waiting for what would happen next, she looked down, seeing how red her swollen nipples were, still aching from being clamped. Further down, the redness round her pussy witnessed both her rape and the burning chilli oil. Then she heard heels click on the stone floor. Her next commands and tortures were upon her.

"All better after that, girl?" Greta said in gleeful non-question, "Now for you to do some work. You may be all clean but Mehmet isn't, so you need to clean him up. You better be thorough as well."

As Greta walked away, her clicking heels fading, Mehmet stepped in front of Olivia and when she didn't look up immediately, grabbed her tightly by the hair and forced her to look at him. Staring down into her eyes, a smirk etched on his face, he used his free hand to undo his belt buckle and then his trousers before letting them to fall to the floor, exposing his flaccid cock, and waited. When Olivia didn't move, he pulled her head toward his swinging dick, giving her hair a quick and painful twist. She didn't need telling twice. Tentatively she poked out her tongue until it touched the head of his cock, the salty taste immediately apparent. With Mehmet pulling her into his crotch, she could run her tongue over the whole head, feeling it jump each time. His cock steadily hardened as her soft warm tongue flicked his sensitive glans, and he watched as she strained to catch up with it. Olivia was sure she knew what he wanted next and so she opened her mouth and wrapped it around his cock, preparing to suck him off. But although Mehmet enjoyed feeling her cute little mouth wrapped around his dick, as well as appreciating her willingness to obey, he knew that wasn't her role for now. So, tugging her head off the end of his dick, he forced the shaft along her mouth. Olivia obediently stuck her tongue out as Mehmet passed first one side of his cock along it and then the other. When he pointed his cock down, Olivia ran her tongue up the top of his dick and then back down again. She did the same as he angled himself up. Then Mehmet pushed his cock against his stomach and thrust his crotch into her face. Confused, the girl looked up at him, meeting a stern scowl, before realising what she had to do. With his grip on her hair not loosening at all, her face was forced against his swinging ball sack and so, with no choice, she began to bathe his scrotum with her salvia, her tongue almost toying with his balls. Mehmet threw his head back, savouring her darting tongue over his sensitive sack, and let her do her work, the girl obviously trying to do well and avoid further punishment. Desperate to please her master and be treated more leniently, Olivia attempted to suck a testicle, a move she had seen in some porn. She knew she was pleasing him when his fingers twisted in her hair, and so continued to toy with his balls. Unfortunately for Olivia, this was not all she had to do and Mehmet knew it. Despite his enjoyment, he pulled on her hair to move her head away and, letting go, turned round and bent over slightly. Olivia was puzzled for a moment then almost screamed in horror as she slowly realised.

"No please ... don't make ... please," Olivia begged.

She stared at Mehmet's arse cheeks, his arsehole just visible in the dark of his crack, sobbing as she desperately begged, willing to take a beating or rape to avoid this ignominy. But he was having none of it. Reaching round, he gripped Olivia's hair, pulling her hard towards him. Olivia's nose was buried deep in the cleft between his cheeks, the smell overpowering. She retched as she tried to breathe through her mouth as Mehmet bent over further and forced her face further into his crack.

"Clean, bitch," he snapped impatiently, "get that tongue out and lick."

Olivia sobbed as she tentatively stuck her tongue out, the foul taste immediately enveloping her being. She closed her eyes and traced the tip of her tongue along his crack until she found his hole and then, with every fibre of her being screaming for her to stop, she began to lick. Thankfully he hadn't just relieved himself so there was nothing to swallow, only taste. But that was small comfort as she tongued away, her head always being forced forward by the powerful hands gripping her blond hair. It seemed like hours of licking until, just as she was about to faint, Mehmet released her and she collapsed. Going into the back, he returned with a bottle of pink liquid, picked Olivia up by her hair and pressed the liquid against her lips, forcing her to drink. It tasted foul at first, then Olivia recognised the mint coolness as mouthwash, no doubt to wash the taste of shit out of her mouth.

"Good," Mehmet said coldly.

Greta had watched Olivia's efforts from over by the table while feeding and watering Holly. With her lying tied down, it was an even more undignified force feeding. Greta had forced a tube down Holly's throat, enjoying her nascent retching, and was now pumping both food and water through the tube via a funnel. This mechanical task was quite boring and so Greta had amused herself watching Mehmet force Olivia's face into his arse crack, enjoying the girl's continuous muffled gags and retches. She'd had it easy so far, Greta thought. Well, that was about to change. Greta brought her hand down hard on Holly's stomach, eliciting a little yelp and signalling that it was time for the next act. Hasan moved swiftly, undoing the straps holding Holly in place and the ropes binding her ankles. Keeping her wrists tied together, he carried the limp girl over to where she had first woken in the basement, using all his considerable strength to lift her up and hook her wrists onto the hook hanging from the ceiling. Leaving her hanging, he moved back to assist Greta.

"Mehmet, bring her here," she snapped. Mehmet picked up the shivering Olivia and almost threw her onto the table, both men securing her hands and feet. Hasan then tied a strap over her forehead and secured it, ramping up Olivia's fears. Which increased when Greta clambered onto the table and straddled her, much as she had Holly but this time sitting down on Olivia's tits.

"Ok, Blondie," she began, almost cheerful in her voice, "Mehmet was very pleased with your cleaning; you will certainly be doing it a lot more. But there are a few changes we need to make first, I think, just to make you better at it. Mehmet, go tend to Tits over there. Hasan, forceps."

Olivia was almost frothing at the mouth at the mention of forceps, the poor girl terrified of what was in store for her. She saw Mehmet leave the table out the corner of her eye with something large in his hand. Meanwhile Hasan had reached into the kit and pulled out some forceps with a flat edge at the end of each arm. As he held them menacingly over Olivia, she tried shaking her head violently from side to side, her loud screams echoing around the room. Greta shook her head above her.

"You might want to hold off on the screaming or it'll be so much worse for you."

Olivia was panicking too much to hear what Greta said and continued her desperate but ultimately futile struggle. Annoyed by the girl's pathetic attempts to avoid her fate, Greta bent round, grabbed Olivia's pussy lips and gave them a sharp and extremely painful twist. Olivia's struggles ceased as the pain in her sex overpowered her immediate panic and she stared up at Greta, pleading with her beautiful blue eyes for some compassion. But there was none.

"That's better, bitch. The better you are the quicker this will end. And if you don't do as you're told, I will slit your throat. Now stick your tongue out, cunt."

Tears streamed down Olivia's face as she tried to balance the pain in her pussy, the threat on her life and impending torture. She slowly opened her mouth and timidly began to stick her tongue out. Hasan didn't wait for her to comply. When she opened her mouth, he reached in with the forceps, gripped her tongue and pulled it out to full stretch. Olivia tried squealing again but without her tongue could only desperately gurgle. Now Greta was ready. Reaching into her kit, she took out a long thin needle and a small decorated stud, relishing how Olivia's eyes widened and her nostrils flared when she showed them to the girl. Wasting no time, Greta positioned the needle a third of the way along her tongue and pushed straight through, the needle easily emerging on the other side. Pushing the needle all the way through, she immediately followed it with the stud which she secured in place. The whole thing seemed to take a second and Olivia barely had time to register the pain until it was all done and even then, such was the precision of the operation, it wasn't nearly as bad as she had feared. Greta took a small piece of cotton wool from her kit and dabbed at the trickle of blood caused by the new piercing, before relaxing. But Olivia's ordeal was far from over.

Once again, Greta reached into the kit and showed Olivia what she took out. This time the girl went absolutely wild, frantically trying to escape from her bonds as she saw what her torturer held. But her struggles were useless, only serving to hurt her wrists and ankles where they were strapped in. The scalpel glinted in the basement's bright light as Greta held it aloft. She could feel each movement of the girl's body as she straddled her chest and watched the girl's face as she panicked more than she ever had in her life. Olivia was convinced she was about to die, the threat Greta had made earlier about to be realised. Greta let the girl stew for a while, twisting the scalpel around in front of her eyes before making it disappear quickly behind Hasan's hand. Suddenly Olivia felt an explosion of pain followed by the copper taste of her own blood filling her mouth and she felt certain she was going to die. Greta reached over and grabbed more cotton wool to stem the blood flow from Olivia's cut frenulum. Motioning Hasan to pull the tongue up so she could stop the blood flow at source, the German worked with a hospital's surgeon-like efficiency, not a torture chamber dominatrix. Once Olivia's mouth was stuffed with cotton wool, Greta relaxed and looked down at her handiwork. She had just nicked the frenulum beneath Olivia's tongue so that the girl could now extend her tongue much further than she had before. While she had enjoyed Olivia licking her pussy, she couldn't wait to give her a test drive with the stud and the new modification. But, since it would take at least a few hours to heal, that wouldn't be for some time. In the meantime, she enjoyed watching Olivia's wide open eyes, tears yet again streaming down her face. With that, Greta gave her a little slap on the cheek and climbed off the table, over to her other toy.

While all this was going on, Mehmet had been focused on Holly. The busty girl was hanging from the ceiling, her head resting limply just above her battered and bruised tits which still stood proud even with her arms extended. Mehmet looked her up and down, admiring how beautiful she was, even with her tear stained face and puffy eyes, not to mention the welts from the beatings that covered her body. He stared at her magnificent breasts which despite being battered, bruised, whipped, clamped and pierced, still stood up on her chest and were still every man's dream. Her whole body had not an inch of unnecessary fat. If he could fuck her normally he would have done so in a heartbeat, even letting her go afterward. Doing this to her was almost a shame but, once he got going, he knew he enjoyed it too much to stop. He opened his bag and took out the contents. Taking a few of the smaller items, he walked behind Holly and, setting other items down, took a small hair tie and grabbed her hair, pulling it back hard and making her squeal, before tying such a tight ponytail that it hurt, giving her forehead a permanently surprised look. He gave a quick hard tug to make sure it was secure, before moving to Holly's front.

He still had a couple of strange items in his hand which fixed Holly's attention. Effortlessly lifting one leg high into the air, he hooked it over his shoulder, exposing her cunt. Holding what looked like a sanitary pad with adhesive round the edges, Mehmet carefully placed it over her pussy lips, ensuring it stuck firmly to her skin. He continued to press the pad into her crotch all the way through, pulling her arse cheeks apart so it would cover her arsehole and making sure each hole was well covered before letting her leg drop. Holly had no idea what was about to happen but she feared the worst. Emotionlessly continuing to work, Mehmet took the next item, a pair of goggles used in sunbeds, and fitted them to completely cover her eyes, again fixing them with adhesive. Plunged into total darkness, Holly now couldn't see what was coming and was even more terrified by what was in store for her. Finally he placed a piece of duct tape just large enough to cover Holly's mouth over her lips. He looked the girl up and down, once again admiring her beauty before beginning the next task.

Delving into his bag, he took out a paint brush and a can, and went back to the hanging girl. Opening the can, he dipped the brush into a viscous black substance and then, dripping paint brush in one hand and can in the other, he stood and with one steady stroke painted a long line of liquid latex down Holly's side. The jet black latex contrasted beautifully with Holly's white skin as yet another stroke was applied from her armpit to her hip. The down strokes continued, turning her toned stomach from white to black, his methodical approach ensuring no skin was left unmarked. He moved further down, covering the tops of her thighs and down to her knees while just covering the outside of her legs for now. Kneeling, he continued to paint her legs, moving to her dainty feet and covering them completely like little black shoes. He moved round, painting the backs of her shapely legs, leaving only those parts that touched each other unpainted. The brush snaked its way up her legs until he reached her toned arse, still largely unmarked by whips, belts or hands. That wouldn't last long, thought Mehmet, smiling a bit as he licked Holly's peachy cheeks with the brush, making sure to hug the curves and dig the end of the brush into the cleft of her arse. With great skill and dexterity, he worked the brush to accentuate Holly's curves, ensuring the finished article would have the same curves as she did now. Finishing her arse, Mehmet brushed up and down her back, and went on to paint her arms and armpits on both sides up to her bound wrists. Then, standing in front of her once again, he prepared to paint her magnificent chest. He began by crouching down slightly, lifting one of her spectacular tits and painting around the bottom, allowing it to dry slightly for a minute before doing the same with the other. Drawing an outline around each of her luscious mounds, he then covered the rest of her torso in paint, going across the top of her chest and up her neck. Then he gave his captive her mask.

Holly shivered as the cool paint was applied to her body, all the more concerning given that her eyes were covered. She felt the bristles brushing her soft skin over and over, feeling it covering her entire body, the cool feel of the paint as it touched her skin disappearing as it covered more and more. She flinched as Mehmet probed her sensitive arse crack with the brush and could barely control herself as he brushed her sensitive armpits and the soles of her feet. Holly was convinced that whatever he was applying would soon cause her untold pain but even as he brushed up her neck there was still none. Then Mehmet brushed up onto Holly's cheek, coating her face with the same substance so quickly that within a minute her entire face was covered. Holly suddenly realised she couldn't breathe and immediately began to panic, but it didn't last long as he whipped off the bandage covering her mouth, giving her precious air. Mehmet took his little finger and just touched the coating at each nostril, giving her two tiny holes with which to breathe. The next thing she felt was him brushing her head, covering her ears and hair completely in the thick paint, save for the pony tail which was allowed to hang free. Even through the latex she could hear a commotion going on in front of her and was glad she couldn't see what was happening to Olivia. Now the only skin that could feel any cold air was the inside of her legs but Mehmet soon saw to that, the brush running first up one leg to the top of her thigh and then the other. Holly now knew she was completely encased in whatever was on her body. Not knowing what it was made it all the worse.

Walking over from the table toward Mehmet and Holly, Greta was pleased with Mehmet's work. The girl was completely encased in liquid latex and needed just a few final touches before she was ready. Greta bent down to Mehmet's bag, took two items and walked up to Holly. Reaching out, she ripped off the pad protecting Holly's cunt and arsehole from the latex, enjoying her startled squeak. Next she removed the goggles hiding Holly's beautiful brown eyes, which flickered at the sudden exposure to the bright light. Not wasting any time, Greta took a sponge and shaped the holes around her eyes to give a more professional finish, doing the same for the mouth as well. Next she took the second item and sprayed it over Holly's new bodysuit. Immediately the latex dried, shrinking just slightly onto her body as well as taking on a shine that accentuated the few exposed parts of her body beautifully. Her tits in particular looked magnificent, spectacular white bruised cliffs jutting out from her now shiny black body. Looking at her, Greta was pleased at how the once innocent young woman had been turned into a slutty fucktoy and couldn't hide her smile, even as Holly looked with pleading eyes at her.

"Take it down, Mehmet," Greta said, unable to control her glee despite her best efforts to maintain her stern demeanour, "and then we can get started."

Holly had heard Greta referring to her as 'it' which, in the context of the ordeal, didn't concern her greatly. What preoccupied her, as Mehmet unhooked her hands from the hook, was what the German had planned for her next and exactly what role this new suit had in it. She could already feel and hear the effects of the latex, the rubber squeaking slightly as her arms rubbed briefly against her sides, her body already feeling hot. She could feel the suit had contracted slightly as it now felt tight all over her sore body. Her tits still throbbed painfully, their base now constricted slightly by the edges of the suit. When Mehmet cut the rope binding her wrists and walked back over to the bag, she weakly fell to her knees and had to support herself on her unbound hands. When she saw him return with a pair of gloves the same material as her suit, she almost offered her hands to him, knowing what he planned and not wanting to risk disobeying him. The gloves didn't exactly slide on but her cooperation, enforced by a menacing look from Greta, they were soon firmly in place, the cuffs so tight against her wrists she could barely see where the suit ended and the gloves began. Now that she was completely encased in the latex, Mehmet stood up and walked behind her, pulling hard on her ponytail to force her to look up at Greta.

"My, my," began the German in her typically callous manner, "what a sight we have here. Do you remember that innocent girl we brought in here, Mehmet? Now look what kneels before us. A cheap little fuckslut." That last phrase sounded faintly ridiculous in her European accent but Holly was in no position to laugh even if she had wanted to. "Only its useful parts are on display; its three holes of cunt, ass and mouth; its big udders to be played with and tortured; and those big brown eyes so we can see its pain and suffering. See, Tits, there is no 'you' anymore, only it. Whatever it was before, now it is just a whore, good only for taking pain and giving pleasure to its masters. It is a slave that will do nothing without the permission of its superiors. It is a worthless toy that will obey without question, that lives only to give pleasure. It is a slave that will do nothing without the permission of its superiors. Does it understand?"

A tear fell from Holly's eye, speeding up as it rolled over her latex covered cheek, as she listened to the horrible lecture on her new role. Even after what she had so far experienced, even as she was raped and beaten for no other reason than for the pleasure of these sadists, this was a step further. She had been treated, albeit with incredibly cruelty, at least like a human being. Now Greta spoke as if she were an animal with no free will whatsoever, a dog that was only alive to please its masters. She thought of herself clad in this ridiculous latex suit like a cheap porn actress in a low budget European film, so far removed from the girl she had been on that fateful night. She looked into the woman's eyes and was astonished by the anger and rage she saw there. She had done nothing to these people, why had they treated her and her friends so horribly? Why did they take so much pleasure in pain? Regardless, she had no option now but to submit.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. Now show it understands its purpose."

Holly was confused as to exactly how she was to do this when she felt Mehmet release the grip on her pony tail and walk in front of her, unbuckling his trousers as he went. Standing before her, he dropped his pants to the floor, revealing his cock swinging almost completely flaccid in front of her face. Now she understood what was expected and, fearing the repercussions if she did not comply immediately would be worse than what faced, she reached out to touch the dick in front of her.

WHACKKKK!!!!

Holly's ears rang as the right side of her face exploded in pain. Mehmet's flat hand thudded into her cheek with ferocious force, the sound ringing round the basement, and she sprawled onto the floor. As Holly composed herself, hauling herself to her knees, she could barely hear her mistress' anger.

"Stupid fucking slut!" came the cry, Greta's rage almost breaking through her practised façade, "What did we tell it!? It must ask permission! Quickly!"

Holly's cheek throbbed from the impact as she prepared to do as she was told. She had accepted her position of vulnerability and was prepared to be subservient to save herself further punishment, but she still had a lump in her throat as she prepared to degrade herself further, begging to service a man she wished dead with all her heart.

"Please, master, may I suc..."

WHACK!!!!

Once again Holly was sent to the floor with her ears ringing loudly. She had not recovered from the earlier blow when this one was delivered with the same ferocity to her other cheek. The pain was intense and Holly's head was spinning as she took a moment to regain some kind of composure. Once again the bark from Greta was only just audible.

"It must not use that word! It is not an 'I' a 'you' or a 'me'! It is a worthless toy! Again!"

As Holly battled to her knees with her head pounding and tears rolling down her latex clad cheeks, she wasn't sure which was worse, the physical pain or her mental torment. This new degradation had reduced her self esteem to virtually nothing. Perhaps soon, she thought, she would actually accept that she was indeed an it. The thought terrified her even as she spoke the degrading word.

"Please, master, may ... it suck your cock."

"Better, " Greta said, dropping her menacing tone, "not perfect but better. From now on it is to refer to itself as 'this whore', 'this slut', 'this cunt' or anything similar. Now it may please its master."

"Do it, cunt." Mehmet chimed in harshly.

Holly paused to collect herself and then circled the base of his limp dick with her gloved right hand. At least she'd had some experience of this, for she had given some handjobs growing up, as well as two blowjobs. Although she had been a virgin, she was not as frigid as her captors thought and she tried to imagine that this was just like the other times. That of course was impossible, for as she moved her hand along his shaft the shine of the latex told her how far from home she really was. Wanting to avoid further punishment by pleasing Mehmet, Holly shuffled forward and then sat on her heels, freeing up her left hand to play with his scrotum. She moved both her hands softly and almost skilfully until she felt his dick swell in her grasp. At that, she leaned forward slightly and gently licked the head. The lack of chastisement told Holly she was doing the right thing and so she continued. Keeping her hands moving, Holly took the head of his stiffening cock into her mouth and ran her tongue along the sensitive underside as she felt Mehmet's hand move to the back of her head. His cock was still only semi erect but when Holly began slightly bobbing her head up and down, and increased fondling his scrotum, it was only seconds before he was fully erect, his huge dick stretching away from Holly as she rubbed her hand up and down its shaft. Mehmet pulled down firmly on her ponytail and Holly understood the message, looking up as she bobbed her head on his cock, her innocent eyes seeing a face oozing lust.

Mehmet stared down into Holly's eyes with a mixture of lust and no small amount of surprise. Given how innocent she had been, not to mention a virgin, he had expected her to be completely hopeless at sucking his cock. She wasn't great, of course, but she had clearly done this before and most likely had practised or had read some guide to it. The feel of her latex covered fingers on his shaft and balls had been fantastic for Mehmet, who had always had something of a thing for it. It hadn't taken long for the blood to rush to his cock, something he had been fighting for the last half hour. He savoured her hot wet mouth around the head of his cock for a moment, the feel of her tongue running slowly up and down. Now, with the girl bobbing up and down nicely on his cock seemingly carefree, he decided to remind her where she was. He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and before she had a chance to react, he thrust forward whilst pulling her head into his crotch. Her hands suddenly stopped moving and he used his free hand to force her left hand back onto his balls and move it around as he pumped out then back into her open mouth. He only buried half of his shaft in her mouth but it was enough for him to hear her gagging and to see the strands of saliva escaping from her mouth and stretching down onto her tits. She moved her head down slightly to accommodate the intrusion but Mehmet was having none of it, pulling both down and forward on her head so she was forced to look up at him as he thrust even deeper. He sensed almost a betrayal in her eyes, as she felt she was being punished for only doing what was asked of her. But it didn't matter to Mehmet. He pulled fully out, giving her a moment to catch her breath, before plunging back in with great force. It didn't matter what Holly did with her hands and tongue now. He was fucking her face as he would a pussy. After a few brutal thrusts, he plunged his cock all the way in, forcing her to gag loudly as he pushed her nose right up to his crotch. She obviously couldn't take it and so, just as he felt she was about to vomit, he pulled all the way out to give her time to breath.

Holly was partly shocked when the almost tranquil blowjob she had been giving gave way to a brutal porn style face fuck but deep down she had suspected it was coming. Even so, she struggled to cope with the sudden intrusion and gagged hard as his cock head slammed the back of her mouth. She tried desperately to breath as his shaft pumped in and out liked a piston but her air supply was severely limited with only two small holes by her nostrils. She felt saliva escaping in long strands from her mouth and then drip onto her tits. Her hands had stopped moving when his assault started and she quickly felt his anger when he painfully gripped her left hand, forcing it to cup and massage his balls again. But Holly's mind was now focused on managing her mouth rape. She inhaled desperately and tried her best not to gag, but she had never experienced anything like this. As more of his shaft entered her mouth each time, she felt as though she was going to throw up as his cock repeatedly struck the back of her throat. Holly held the base of his cock tightly with her right hand to stop herself being thrown backward with the force of his thrusts, although the hands now tightly gripping the back of her head were not going to let that happen. Then, just as she felt she had developed a technique to deal with his cock, Mehmet forced her head forward and buried himself in her mouth. Holly's eyes widened as he forced his dick deep down her throat, tears again streaming down her face and joining the puddles of saliva pooling on her breasts. Her face was forced hard into his crotch as she gagged on his dick, her nose pressed so hard against him she was sure it would break. She couldn't control her gag reflex anymore and felt her stomach lurch. Just as she was about to vomit, Mehmet released his grip on her head and slowly slid his still very erect cock out of her. Panting hard from the lack of air, Holly felt relieved as he released his grip on her head and moved his cock from her mouth, ending that particular ordeal.

Mehmet savoured the feeling of having his cock buried in the girl's throat then reluctantly pulled out. He could have fucked that cute little mouth of hers until he came but that was not his job now. He looked down at her kneeling beneath him, looking so fuckable in that tight latex suit. What his eyes focused on, though, were her magnificent tits, jutting out proudly from her chest. The contrast of the black latex of the suit with her white - albeit slightly bruised - tits was sublime and Mehmet knew just what he wanted to do next. He reached round and grabbed her ponytail, angling her head to look up at him with those big doe eyes, like dinner plates piled high with pain. Gripping her hair hard, he pulled up so she was up on her knees, her mouth level with his navel and, crucially, her tits with his crotch. Although not part of the plan, Mehmet simply couldn't resist. He was sure Greta wouldn't mind anyway for he would not take long and it would ensure the girl would still be humiliated. But it would be remiss of him not tit fuck the bitch now, while her globes looked so luscious, glistening with a mixture of saliva and tears. Keeping his left hand firmly in her hair, Mehmet took his cock, still dripping with her saliva, in his right hand and moved it across the top of her perfect mounds. He could see in Holly's eyes that she knew what as coming, so he saw no reason to keep her waiting. He pressed his cock into her soft flesh a couple of times then ran it in between her tits a few times. Enough playing, he thought, time to get down to business.

"Push those tits together, cunt," he spat, looking right into her eyes. He could see her flinch as he said it and took his hand away from his cock as if he were about to strike her. Immediately obeying, she brought her little black hands up to squeeze her big jugs together. Mehmet bent over a little and buried his cock deep in her cleavage. His eyes kept moving from her eyes to her tits and back again, enjoying the "deer in the headlight" look in her eyes almost as much as he enjoyed seeing his dick between her globes. He moved his cock in and out a little with small thrusts, just watching the head poke out briefly before disappearing back into her flesh. Now to make her take the reins.

"Titfuck me."

The command was succinct but Holly momentarily had no idea what she was supposed to do. She may never have done it but she knew what a titfuck was. Only, wasn't he supposed to fuck her breasts whilst she held them? Or was she supposed to do something? One thing she did know was that if she just knelt there, he would beat her. So she tentatively began to move her breasts up and down his shaft, while looking up to check she was doing it correctly. Apparently she was and so she began to speed up, squeezing her tits together tightly as they threatened to pop out of her grasp. Using her whole upper body, she attempted to please him by moving all the way up and down his shaft by moving her hips, moving her tits from where his bell end poked out between her mounds until only his head was between them and back up. This way, she reasoned, he would be pleasured and hopefully would cum soon and this would be over. If she could just placate these monsters long enough for help to arrive, perhaps they could all get out of here in one piece.

Mehmet couldn't believe it; the little slut was really going for it! He watched as she put her whole body into titfucking him, moving those giant udders up and down his shaft as if all she wanted to do was please him. He reminded himself that this was a girl who had fucked just once, by him no less. Now she was putting every muscle in her body into jerking him off with her melons. Mehmet pulled down hard on her ponytail to see if she would stop but though he could see the hurt in her eyes, she carried on, stimulating him both physically and mentally. Mehmet released her and instead began to unbutton his shirt, ready for the next stage in this little game. Still she kept going, ignoring him as he tossed his shirt to the side and grabbed her hair once again with one hand. Then suddenly he felt it, the tingle in his balls signalling he was not far away from his climax. It was way ahead of schedule and he had to forestall it. So he suddenly pulled away from Holly, enjoying how she initially reached out with her chest. He moved over to the bag and took something out, holding it tightly in his hand, then lay down on the floor not far in front of Holly, putting whatever had been in his hand under his body. He put his hands behind his head and relaxed, his cock poking up into the air like a sundial.

Greta walked toward Mehmet, having stood to the side and quite far back through the first part of this scene. She had been very pleased with the performance of the toy, though she had been surprised with Mehmet. Usually he stayed very much on message, but the titfuck had not been part of the script. While she would have to reprimand him later, she had in fact enjoyed it. Watching Holly desperately move her fat tits up and down to please him had been quite amusing, and in no small part arousing. Now, though, the script had been restored and as Mehmet lay on the floor with his cock pointing skyward, Greta approached Holly, the riding crop she had used earlier now back in her hands. She tapped it in her hand lightly and watched Holly's eyes follow its every movement before she brought it crashing down on Holly's latex clad rump with a giant smack.

"Good, cunt," Greta said, ignoring the yelp of pain from her slave, "it is learning its place well. Now it must beg for its master's cock deep inside its worthless cunt."

Holly's arse stung from the blow but there was no time to nurse it now. Having decided obedience was her best chance of staying alive and avoiding pain, she threw herself into it. Not wanting another crack of the crop on her rump, she didn't stand but crawled on her hands and knees like a dog toward Mehmet, stopping just in front of his feet. Just hours ago, that would have caused her to cry with embarrassment but she was hardened now, willing to do what it took. She steadied herself, then spoke.

"Please can you fuck this...this slut?" she asked, only belatedly aware of the heels rapping on the floor. Another loud and painful smack on the arse followed.

"Is it deaf!?" screamed Greta, "It was told to ask for its master's cock deep inside its worthless cunt! Again!"

Holly ignored the constant degrading message and instead mentally prepared herself to be penetrated for only the second time in her life, so the next words were just a formality.

"Please, master," she began, "this slut would like your cock inside its worthless ... cunt."

"Ride it, whore," came the reply.

Holly knew immediately what she had to do and wasted no time. She crawled further, spreading her legs farther apart so as to straddle Mehmet, inadvertently giving Greta a great view of her puckered arsehole. Once level with his cock, Holly moved onto her knees and positioned her hole directly above Mehmet's erect dick. With one hand she held Mehmet's cock upright and slowly lowered herself down until he just brushed her pussy lips. The contact with her previously virgin cunt brought back immediate flashbacks of her first brutal rape not far from where she was now. She desperately tried to forget those horrible memories, but as she positioned the cock head at her entrance, all her feelings of worthlessness came flooding back with a vengeance. Trussed up like a cheap porno actress and being forced to ride the dick of a man who had raped her, made her feel like shit. But she slowly eased herself down the shaft. Though still dry, this time his cock was not, coated as it was with her saliva, and the much slower speed compared to their previous encounter meant it was now much less painful. It didn't take long to slide as far down his shaft as she felt able, well over half of his thick cock buried in her tight snatch. Slowly she began to move up and down his shaft, moving so tentatively it was as if she were scared she would detonate a bomb if she moved faster. Meanwhile Mehmet removed his hands from her arse and up toward her prized assets.

Mehmet didn't mind Holly bouncing on his cock like a decrepit old woman. She would speed up soon enough; Greta would see to that. All he could see were those stupendous breasts swinging before him. He brought his hands up from her arse, admiring how the latex tightly hugged the curves of her shapely hips, and rested his hands just underneath her magnificent breasts. His eyes glared at her menacingly as he gently bounced her tits up and down in his hands. He looked deep into her eyes as she continued to move up and down his dick at a funereal pace, and his hands continued to gently bounce her funbags up and down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Greta move toward her and he knew the time for her to fuck him properly had come. He only half watched as she raised the riding crop high and brought it down with a loud crack on Holly's arse.

"Does it not want to please its master!?" Greta yelled, the anger in her voice even scaring Mehmet, "Well, cunt!?" Another vicious blow landed on Holly's cheek, red beneath the black latex skin.

"Yes ... mistress," Holly replied, the last syllable an afterthought delivered just in time.

"Then it must fuck its master properly!" Greta shouted, giving one final blow from her crop. She noted Mehmet give her tits a vicious slap to coincide with hers and the bitch immediately reacted, finally beginning to make some effort. Greta stepped back and allowed the scene to unfold.

Mehmet had felt electrified when his hand slapped the side of her tit, especially since it was immediately followed by a significant improvement in the whore's performance. Now that she was fucking him properly, he could play with those tits. He waited for a moment, watching her melons bobbing lightly up and down as she rode him with renewed intensity. They were mesmerising but he needed them closer. He needed to taste them. Roughly he tightly grabbed both her tits and pulled them toward him. Surprised, Holly lurched forward but she knew better than to stop and her hips continued to move her pussy up and down his long shaft. Mehmet was in heaven, his cock gripped by one of the tightest cunts he had ever been in and his face buried in an equally magnificent pair of tits. He took a long deep breath through his nose. Even after a few days down here, she still retained her most feminine smell, perfectly preserved between her breasts. Next Mehmet took one nipple into his mouth and sucked it violently whilst both his hands squeezed her soft bruised flesh over and over. Mehmet could hear the groans of pain from the girl but they merely spurred him on as he sucked hard at first one nipple then the other, all the time kneading her tits as if he were making bread. As he immersed himself entirely in her tit flesh, her pussy continued to stimulate him as she moved it up and down at speed, her hips tiring from the effort but her mind too scared to allow her to stop. For the first time, Mehmet began thrusting back, plunging his cock deeper into her tight cunt as he grew more and more aroused. A particularly deep thrust created a wave of pleasure and he bit down hard on her sensitive and swollen nub, his teeth grinding until he felt the small piercing in her tit, all to the musical accompaniment of a loud wail from the latex slut.

Holly shrieked as the man's teeth sank into her much abused nipple. It was a jagged contrast to the rough and uncomfortable yet relatively gentle treatment of her breasts she had felt over the last few minutes. But she continued to move her pussy up and down his shaft, but with her bent forward, it was less up and down and thus harder for her to do. Her thighs burned from the strain, her arse still throbbed from the crop and the pain in her bruised tits came flooding back, as Mehmet squeezed them roughly between his fingers. Yet she daren't stop. Instead she resolved to continue, however much it hurt, until she'd made him cum. Hopefully, she would then be allowed to rest without pain for just a little while. That wasn't all that was going through her head though. Her body was starting to betray her as she felt a wetness seep over her pussy lips. Despite being forced to bounce up and down on his dick and his rough treatment of her breasts, she was still a woman and her body was beginning to respond. She felt slightly ashamed but at the same closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the feeling. It was then she felt another set of hands. At first she thought they were Mehmet's but immediately dismissed the idea as she could feel those clawing at her tits. She looked up alarmed, to see Greta standing in front of her smiling, leaving only one option. As she realised whose hands had gripped her hips, she felt something slide down the cleft of her arse. She stopped bouncing on Mehmet's cock and turned around to see Hasan grinning at her, his cock resting at the entrance to her arsehole. She tried to fight him but the grip on her hips was too strong and even as she tried to buck her hips away, he pushed the head of his cock hard against her tightly shut hole. Mehmet had obviously seen Hasan and, reluctantly moving his hands away from Holly's tits, was spreading her arse cheeks apart. Holly fought hard to keep her arsehole shut but as Hasan pushed harder and harder forward, eventually she couldn't hold it any longer. With a satisfying pop, Hasan's glans slipped past the tight ring of her sphincter and nestled in the warmth of her arse chute. Holly was filled with shame even as she tried to expel the invader. She had never thought to be taken like this, even by a man she wanted to give herself to. Now she was being sodomised against her will. Worse, she had two cocks in her, one deep in her pussy and one slowly but surely creeping into her resisting arsehole. Its progress was inexorable despite the tightness and as Mehmet once again began to thrust in and out of her pussy, she felt as low as she possibly could.

After cleaning as much of Olivia's blood as he could and covering her wound with more gauze in case it bled again, Hasan went over to the two. While he enjoyed causing pain to the girls trapped here, he didn't enjoy procedures like Olivia's. What he liked was what would happen to Holly very soon. He could already see her bouncing up and down on Mehmet's cock, the crop whipping her arse ringing round the room. Watching Mehmet bury his face in her fantastic tits, he stepped back and stripped, ready to play his part. He spat on his hand and jacked his cock off to bring it fully to attention then walked over to stand directly behind her. His dick rose to attention as he looked down at her cute little arsehole moving up and down with her pussy. Creeping as quietly as he could, Hasan crouched lower so he was only centimetres away, already feeling the heat radiating off her smooth black body. Kneeling, he positioned his cock level with her hole. With the head of his cock bobbing in the air in anticipation, he grabbed the girl's shapely hips with both hands and thrust forward slightly, allowing his dick to run down the cleft of her cheeks and rest against her opening. He could feel her try to buck away but held her firm, keeping her steady as he pressed forward. Mehmet's hands came up to her arse and pried her cheeks apart, making Holly strain even harder to shut his cock out. He could feel her muscles quivering as she tried desperately to keep him out but when she couldn't hold it any longer, Hasan slipped his cock past her sphincter into her hot chute. He kept pressing forward, slowly sinking further and further into her arse, the walls gripping his shaft like a glove. Still holding her hips tightly, Hasan pushed forward with renewed vigour and watched half his cock slide into her virgin arse. As the girl whimpered, he pulled back slightly before pushing forward again, only moving an inch but giving the girl a taste of what was to come.

Tears streamed down Holly's cheeks as Hasan forced himself further and further into her arsehole, stretching the walls of her virgin arse painfully. As his cock moved deeper and deeper inside her, she whimpered with each small movement. She couldn't believe how full she felt, her two holes both stuffed fuller than she could ever have imagined. She felt certain the cock sliding inexorably further into her arse chute would surely tear her in two on its own, but coupled with the cock once again pounding in and out of her pussy, Holly was certain she would never be the same again. She could now feel Hasan's crotch against the curves of her arse, indicating he had buried his entire length inside her virgin hole. And when she felt him pulling back, the pain of her stretched hole wasn't lessened at all as he readied himself to fuck her. She felt him withdraw until just the head of his cock was inside then he gripped her hips tightly and slammed forward with tremendous force. The impact of his body into her behind shook her whole body, her tits swinging forward till they almost hit her in the face. As suddenly as he had thrust forward he pulled back, rested for a moment with just the tip of his cock inside her before driving into her again. As her whole body again rocked forward, Holly was hit by a wave of pain from her arse, his barely lubricated cock scraping the sensitive walls of her stretched chute. She was being fucked hard by two cocks at the same time like some cheap crack whore, all her previous innocence now completely gone.

With Hasan now almost fully inside her, Mehmet moved his hands back to her tits, squeezing her soft melons roughly as he fucked her tight cunt faster and faster. He could feel Hasan's cock through Holly's cunt walls, the size of his dick making the girl's hole grip his cock even tighter. He was in seventh heaven as he buried his face in her succulent chest, biting and squeezing her soft flesh, all to the luscious accompaniment of her whimpering and mewling, her wet tears cascading onto his face. It wasn't long before he could feel his balls tingle and he knew he was almost ready to cum. Pounding in and out of the girl as fast as possible, he took the nipple of one tit into his mouth and ground down hard. The girl's scream spurred him on and pushed him over the edge. Squeezing one tit so hard she thought he might tear it off, and grinding his teeth into her swollen nipple, he plunged his cock as deep into her hole as hard as he could. His whole body shook as he shot jet after jet of his hot cum deep into her womb, coating her insides with a thick layer of jizz. His hand kept squeezing her soft tit as the girl's tight cunt milked his last drops of cum as Hasan's fucking kept her rocking back and forth. As the ecstasy of his powerful orgasm subsided, he released her tits from his grasp, watching the nipple he had ground his teeth into throb a violent red, his teeth marks still visible on her pink flesh, a small trickle of blood where he had broken the skin. He watched her now as Hasan fucked her, her tits swinging just above his head each time Hasan slammed into her. Mehmet watched mesmerised as her breasts danced in front of him, his cock softening inside her, the cries of anguish from the girl like music to his ears. After what felt like an eternity staring at her, his cock, slick with cum, slipped out of her pussy. It was time for the next stage.

With her breasts still swinging pendulously above him, Mehmet reached beneath his back and took out the objects he had taken from the bag; two thick black rubber bands. Stretching one with both hands, he reached up to catch one of her swinging mounds within it, shimmying it to the base of the breast before releasing it with a snap. Immediately Holly's bruised flesh turned crimson as the blood was trapped in her tits, the rubber band constricting the flesh at the base. He looked up at Holly to see her reaction to this new torture, watching the girl still being sodomised, her eyes wide with fear. Smiling a little, he repeated the procedure with her other breast until both bulged obscenely from her chest. The violent swinging with each fuck was now replaced by each solid bulging tit bobbing slightly with the force of Hasan's thrusts. Although not squeezed enough to turn purple, they were sufficiently constricted that each magnificent tit throbbed red, bulging beautifully from her latex suit. Mehmet ran his hands over her taut skin, relishing how she flinched at his touch, the constriction making her much abused melons even more sensitive. His eyes fixed on hers as he slowly shimmied out from beneath her and walked back into the shadows.

Holly screamed as Mehmet bit into her nipple like a piece of meat on a dinner plate. Her entire chest throbbed with pain as he ground his teeth into her soft flesh while mauling her other breast so roughly she thought he might tear it off. All the while, both her holes were stuffed full of dick, making her feel as though torn in two. Her wails of anguish filled the room as Mehmet plunged deep into her pussy. Then, for only the second time in her life, Holly felt the spurt of hot cum inside her. There was no relief though, for even as Mehmet's dick softened, Hasan's relentless pounding of her arse continued, throwing her forward with each thrust. Such was the intensity of his fucking that Holly didn't notice what Mehmet was doing until the first band closed around the base of her breast. Still being fucked hard in the arse, she looked down and saw her breast bulge outwards and turn red, the constriction causing her bruises to ache once more. There was nothing Holly could do as Mehmet moved onto her other tit, drinking in her worried look as he repeated the process. There was nothing she could do as he once again shimmied the band up her tit before stretching it and letting it slap painfully onto her flesh. And when Mehmet raised his hands to only lightly stroke her crimson skin, Holly whined as pain ripped through her chest. As he kept just brushing his hands over her taut skin and the pain continued through her breasts, she realised they had done this just to further abuse her now even more sensitive tits. Through the pounding of her arse she could just about feel Mehmet's limp cock as it slipped out of her pussy and she watched as he wriggled out from under her. No sooner had Mehmet gone than Hasan pulled back on her ponytail, forcing her to look straight ahead. In front of her, Greta stood, weapon in hand.

Greta had watched the whole scene unfold with glee. Watching her new toy as she bounced up and down on Mehmet's dick made her pussy tingle. The girl's clear distress turned her on almost as much as watching those luscious tits bouncing around. Greta moved quietly closer as she saw Hasan approaching her whore from behind, hoping for a good look at her despair as she realised what was about to happen. As her assistant lined his massive dick up to her virgin arsehole, it was as sweet as she had hoped, the girl's eyes going wide and her body thrashing around as best she could. She kept moving around them, seeking a good view of the scene. Without thinking, her hand moved to her crotch and as the tears fall down the slut's face, she began to gently rub her sex. She looked on, still rubbing her pussy slowly, as Mehmet reached his climax, relishing the wails coming from Holly as he mauled her abused tits. It was time to prepare the next stage and so, while Mehmet finished inside Holly, she moved to the wall and picked up her chosen implement, a black electric charge box and in the other a long black cable, frays of copper wire fanning out from the end. Greta swung it through the air a few times just to get a feel of it. It was time.

As Greta turned, she could see Mehmet had done his job well. Holly's huge tits bulged obscenely from her chest, just waiting to be abused further. Although she preferred those udders swinging freely from the whore, she knew that bound like this, they would hurt so much more. As she switched the machine on, a sadistic smile crossed her face as she anticipated the screams from her toy when the current coursed through her tits. The machine whirred slightly and as she turned to face her victim, Hasan pulled hard on her ponytail. The girl's eyes looked up and her eyes went wide as she saw Greta standing before her. Greta thought about taunting her, telling the little bitch why she deserved everything she was going to get but decided against it. The cunt had probably thought she was pleasing her masters enough to be spared further punishment but she was wrong. Greta didn't care what the bitch did, she just wanted to hurt her, to pile all her smouldering rage on this innocent girl. As Hasan pulled harder on her ponytail, forcing Holly virtually straight up and all the while still pounding in and out of her arse, Greta snarled and swung the cable hard into Holly's tit. The girl's scream echoed loudly around the room as the thin wires of the cable bit into her bulging tit and the electric current ripped through her chest. Greta savoured the sound of her torment, listening and smiling as her screams rebounded off the walls. Looking down at her toy, Greta readied herself for another swing, Hasan still pounding relentlessly into her arse. The girl was forced to look straight at Greta, her wonderful big brown innocent eyes pleading for this ordeal to be over. But seeing the girl so desperate and helpless only spurred Greta on, her entire being overcome with a desire to hurt her as much as possible. Gleefully she swung the cable into Holly's breast again, smiling broadly as the poor girl's anguish resonated round the basement.

The pain ripped through Holly's entire being as the cable touched her skin. First she felt the pain of the frayed wires smacking her swollen tit but though painful, it was nothing to the moment later, the electric shock hitting like a freight train and coursing agonisingly through her breasts. It was the worst pain she had ever experienced and her scream reflected this. She had not recovered from the first blow when a second slammed into her sensitive flesh, the pain even greater than the first. The tears fell down her face and her head was filled with pain and screams. The sting from Greta's weapon bit into her again, a pain so intense she almost forgot about the constant pain of Hasan buggering her arsehole. Each time Greta swung the electrified cable into her tits, an explosion of agony ripping through her and her entire body filled with pain. She screamed again as the current red flashed through her and tried closing her eyes to pretend to be somewhere else. But it was no use. Hasan slapped her arse as he plunged his cock into her, then the sting of the wires and the agony of the charge jolted her back into the real world. Holly wished with all her heart to die.

Holly's tight arsehole gripped Hasan's dick even tighter each time Greta swung the cable into the bitch's bound tits. He pulled hard on her hair, knowing the more pain he caused the tighter she'd become. With his dick pounding in and out of her so quickly, he noticed he wasn't far away from his climax, the bitch's screams pushing him closer and closer to the edge. His free hand rained down on her arse as he pounded in and out of her tight hole, his balls beginning to tighten as he neared the end. He tried to hurt her as much as possible so she would milk his big dick, tugging her hair and spanking her arse as Greta continued flogging her tits with the cable. It was imminent and he forced his dick as far into her as possible. Pulling her onto him hard one last time, he buried his dick in her tight arsehole, his whole body trembling as he pumped her bowels full of hot sticky cum. Hasan threw his head back as the pleasure of his orgasm washed over him, his hand still gripping her hair as hard as he could. He opened his eyes and watched Greta swinging the cable again and again into the bitch's chest, the rage etched on her face surprising even him. He slowly released the grip on her hair and she slumped to the floor, his slick cock slipping out of her. He looked at Greta and she smiled back, knowing she had gone a long way to breaking the cow's spirit.

Switching off the machine, Greta put the cable on the floor, her arm aching from swinging it, and looked at the crumpled black sobbing mess on the floor, smiling. The big titted bitch looked totally broken, her arse in the air and her face pressed against the cold stone floor. Walking over, her high heels echoing around the basement, she stood over the girl, feeling so powerful, knowing she could kill her if she wished. Bending down, she rubbed Holly's arse, the girl barely registering this new contact then thrust her right index finger into Holly's stretched black gaping arsehole. She could just reach some of Hasan's cum with a long nail before withdrawing and spanking Holly hard with her left hand. Enough of her moping. Greta yanked her hair up, forcing Holly to alleviate the pain in her scalp by weakly coming to her knees and using her hands to support herself. She looked down at her toy and those big brown eyes looked up at her.

"Not finished yet," Greta snarled, her eyes flitting between Holly's eyes and her battered bulging tits, "open wide."

Pulling Holly's hair to tilt her head up, Greta placed the cum dripping finger over her mouth. Her angry stare convinced the girl to open it, and Greta pushed in, forcefully fingered Holly's mouth, enjoying the metaphorical rape of her toy. Holly's tear-stained black-masked face looked up at her tormentor with no emotion. When Greta took her finger out, she motioned Hasan to stand in front of Holly, his cock hanging level with her face and stained with all manner of fluids.

"Clean him."

Although she felt sick at the thought of putting that stained dick in her mouth, Holly knew she had no choice. Greta pushed her head into Hasan's crotch and the acrid smell hit her like an avalanche. She knew she had to end this and stuck out her tongue. The taste was foul. Moving her tongue around the tip of his cock, she tried not to think about what she was licking but worked quickly and thoroughly to clean his dick, running her tongue rapidly up and down, only just managing not to gag on the awful taste. After what felt like hours with the foul taste of his stained dick in her mouth, Greta pulled sharply on her hair, yanking her away from Hasan so quickly her tongue still stuck out.

"Does it know its place now?" Greta asked.

Holly still had the taste in her mouth but she worked to answer as quickly as possible

"Yes, mistress," Holly managed, the words now coming so alarmingly easily.

"Worthless cunt."

Greta clicked her fingers and Mehmet emerged from the shadows with a knife and a dog collar. He gave the knife to Greta before attaching the dog collar to Holly's neck, tightening it uncomfortably. Once he had finished, he pulled hard on the leash, forcing Holly to once again kneel upright. Greta brought the knife up so Holly was forced to look at it, her eyes widening frantically as she saw its sharpness. Gleefully Greta traced the tip of the knife down Holly's body to her bulging tits. As she brought it across the girl's battered globes, she savoured Holly's groans at even the slightest pressure on her tits. After enjoying it for a while, Greta slipped the knife under the rubber band constricting the girl's left tit and cut. The fleshy mound quickly returned to its original shape, the colour slowly turning normal - and Holly shrieked as feeling returned to her breast, all the pain inflicted over the last hours returning with a vengeance. When her shrieks died to a soft whimper, Greta cut the other band and stepped back, admiring those luscious tits as they bounced freely on her chest once again and enjoying Holly's renewed cries of pain. Greta gave one tit a quick squeeze, drawing another whimper, before grabbing the lead. As the two Turks again disappeared, Greta didn't say another word before marching forward, forcing the poor girl to crawl quickly to keep up.

The men had rolled out two large wooden items and placed them down just as Greta arrived with Holly. Hasan opened the first item, a very heavy set of stocks, and before Holly appreciated what was happening, she was forced into it, her head and hands locked in place. Mehmet then lifted up her hips and the second item, a large wooden block with attached straps, was slid under her stomach. Quickly he tied a strap over her back then used others to tie her thighs. Holly was now unable to move and could only look forward while listening to the activity behind her. Then something pressed against the entrance to her pussy. Although she tried to evade it, the unknown invader was forced up her hole, its width slightly painful as it was forced deeply in then whatever it was slowly slid out before slamming back in. Initially Holly thought one of the men was fucking her but the monotonous nature of the phallus indicated something else.

Greta looked on as the two men manoeuvred a wooden frame holding a simple piston with a large black dildo mounted on the end into position behind Holly. A thin duct ran along the top of the rubber cock out of which a lubricating fluid slowly seeped out. Working the dildo into Holly's pussy, the men stepped back and watched it move inexorably in and out. Greta smiled slightly as Holly was fucked by the large black cock, its rectangular base slamming hard into her arsecheeks each time. Greta moved round to a side and watched Holly's bobbing tits, swinging each time the dick forced its way in. Moving to Holly's head, she bent down, her lips just inches from the girl's ears.

"As it is a filthy slut, I have rewarded it," Greta whispered menacingly, "it will be fucked constantly until I decide to play with it again. This is its life from now on; it is a worthless sex toy, a cunt that serves only to please its masters. It should try to enjoy it, for this is all it is good for."

With that Greta stood up and walked over to Olivia, tightly stretched on the table, the gauze still stuffed into her mouth. Greta tapped the side of her head until she looked up.

"As for you, I have been very merciful," Greta said with faked warmth, "When that pretty little tongue heals, I'll be playing with you just as much. Something for you to look forward to."

After pinching Olivia's nipple and wiggling her tit, Greta then turned and walked up the stairs, followed by Mehmet and Hasan. As the sound of her heels slowly faded away, darkness plunged into the room.

Waking with a start from her half sleep, Lucy felt something change in the room. She looked up to see a large screen had emerged from the wall in front of her, split into different individual cameras showing the basement. One view showed her two friends tied together on the table. She already knew what she was going to see but knew she had to watch. And so she watched as Greta and the two men came in, wincing as everything occurred. As she watched Greta and the two men torture the girls, Lucy was disgusted but she also found her own boredom lessened by a fascinated horror at the sight and sound of their acts. She yelped as the procedure was done on Olivia, the pain of her friend obvious even through the screen. But just as Holly began to suck Mehmet's cock, the alarm went off again, jolting Lucy out of her semi-catatonic state. For a moment she was not sure what to do but quickly remembered what it meant and reached for the dildo. Continuing to look at the screen, she inserted the now familiar phallus into her pussy. As she moved it in and out, Lucy found the rape of her friend strangely arousing. As Holly lowered herself onto Mehmet's dick and her tits were roughly played with, Lucy discovered the images created an impending orgasm much quicker than previously. She continued till she was right on the edge and then, extremely reluctantly, pulled the dildo out of her pussy. Still watching the screen, Lucy thought about what had happened. Although filled with sympathy and desperately sorry for what her friends were enduring, a small part of her somewhat enjoyed it as Hasan sidled behind Holly. She was filled with shame as she found herself aroused by the suffering of her best friends. It was as if they had broken her already, everything Lucy had thought true of herself being steadily eroded away. With her eyes still fixed on the screen, Lucy brought her legs up to her chest and started to weep.


Chapter 5 (added: 2016/10/20)

The smoke from the stubbed out cigarette curled into the air in thin blue wispy tails. As he pored over the documents, the greying detective's sweaty brow furrowed slightly. Years of working on this case had consumed him, costing him his wife, his family, his house and most of his friends. All he had left was work and work was this case. Despite repeated calls from the top to leave it and move on, he kept coming back, obsessively intent on solving it. He woke thinking about it, went to sleep thinking about it, even thought about it while taking a shit. He knew he was a stereotypical detective consumed by a case but the cliché was lost on him. For years it had been a dead end, mysterious disappearances inevitably ending as cold cases, allegations of people trafficking and high level corruption, as well as a distinct lack of interest from his superiors who he thought were supposed to care about cases like these. His drinking and smoking had spiralled out of control in the last couple of years and the few people who still cared about him had been very concerned about his health.

And now it was back again. That afternoon, Detective Daniel Hanneman had received a call from Berlin about three British schoolgirls missing in Munich. Britain was pressuring German law enforcement to find them and catch those responsible. Given how similar this disappearance was to his many others, his superiors had given him the case, though his district commissioner had seemed curiously uninterested in such a top priority case. Before him were all his files from the previous cases, his laptop open with the files he had just been sent. Lighting another cigarette, he gazed absently at the pictures of the three missing British girls. They fitted the profile of the others he had been looking for; young and gorgeous. He was riled that it took a few precious English bitches to go missing before his superiors were even slightly interested in his work. Still, at least it was finally being taken seriously. Cradling his coffee cup, he took a long drag and contemplated the display in front of him. Another night of very little sleep, searching for some crucial elusive clue.

There must be something, he thought, to connect the victims. Maybe they had gone somewhere where they were spotted and taken. Ten girls had gone missing in the last two years, all in the same area. Daniel looked at the map he had created, red circles showing the places tourists and young people might go; bars, nightclubs hotels, parks. Looking at the girls' files and then his map, he spotted something. When the faces of the three girls were published, they had received few calls, mostly from perverts saying what they hoped happened to them. But one claimed to have seen them walking down a street lined with a dozen or so bars, very close to their hotel and in the right area. Daniel cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, probably a result of his lack of sleep over the last few days. He looked at the time - 01:20. If he hurried he could canvass a few places before they closed. It would be more useful than sitting here staring at the same documents for hours on end. Feeling old and a little worse for wear but with a slight spring in his step, Daniel prepared to leave.

Examining the two women like cuts of meat or prints of wallpaper, Greta frowned in concentration. Her customer was of many years standing with very specific and very high standards. Though this was one of his less eccentric requests, she was still keen to get it absolutely right and wasn't rushing her decision. Looking from one female body to the other, she sized them up, her experience picking up details the untrained eye might miss to compare how they stood, their facial expressions, the tone of their muscles, even their nails and haircuts with the requirements. One woman especially troubled her, a tear rolling down its cheek. Without the two naked women, this could have passed for just a normal business meeting, a sharply dressed women in an expensive suit addressing two similarly well dressed men in an office both unremarkable and expensive. But this was clearly a very different encounter. The two men firmly held their charges upright as the stern blonde woman, hereyes fixed on the body of the woman troubling her, came around the desk for a closer look.

"Stand her up properly," Greta snapped at the man holding the woman. He immediately pulled up the woman's arms, forcing her to straighten even more. As the woman stood trembling before her, Greta's piercing stare traversed every inch of black skin. With a brusque stride designed to instil fear, Greta stalked round her, checking her curves and skin for any blemish that made her unsatisfactory for her client. She ran her hand down the cleft of the woman's buttocks, her white hand sharply contrasting the deep mahogany of the smooth skin. Her client had requested minimal touching but she had to feel this girl's rump. To almost anyone, the girls were stunningly attractive; slender yet curvy, with toned bodies, proud and pert breasts, unblemished skin and soft but sexy and feminine features. But Greta saw girls like this every day and had to look deeper. Giving a buttock a firm squeeze, she appeared satisfied for she returned to her chair and looked at the paperwork. On receiving the request several weeks ago, she had immediately moved to procure the items for her client. Some extensive searching had delivered results and Greta had narrowed the shortlist to just these two, a black from the Parisian suburbs and an Asian from a boarding school in Macau. In truth it didn't matter to Greta where they came from, only that they were up to scratch. These two were.

"Yes, they'll do just fine," Greta said without looking at the two men, "send them on."

"Yes, ma'am," the two repeated in unison before frogmarching the two women out of the office.

Greta sat back and relaxed. The stress of this assignment had weighed heavily on her and finally resolving it was a huge relief. She had done her job brilliantly, meeting the request exactly. Admittedly the two she had chosen would have made a welcome addition to her own collection let alone his much smaller but growing one. The girls she had supplied him over the years had been almost exclusively white Europeans and she knew from experience that some diversity was always good. In fact, when her thoughts turned to her own collection, she realised it only had one properly dark one and a few mixed raced ones, though it was well stocked with Asians. To that end she made a diary note to send her scouts to look for some suitable specimens. Returning to the present, she brought up the webcams surveilling the basement and looked with pleasure at each of her new toys. The last few days could hardly have gone better but she was still worried. In a few days she had some very special guests coming, very loyal customers who would expect quality. While the new acquisitions would be perfect for them, Greta was worried they would still be too raw. It was a race against time with none to lose so she switched off the monitor and gathered her things. Another long day. Though not as long as it would be for her new slaves.

Lucy was woken this time not by the dreaded alarm clock but by a mechanical click and a whir as the electronic door slowly swung open. The dark corridor meant Lucy couldn't clearly see the figure standing at the entrance. It wasn't Mehmet or Hasan and though it looked like a woman, something about its elegant posture made her think it wasn't Greta. She strained to make out the details but soon didn't have to try when it stepped into the half light of the room. Moving her eyes slowly up from dainty feet to silken black hair, the prone girl's face was a picture of both surprise and wonder mixed with some fear. Before her was a classic Oriental beauty. The nails of her feet were beautifully maintained and painted a dark shade of vivid red, mounted on a pair of stupendously high heels which shaped her long golden brown legs fabulously or at least the one visible through a long black patterned cheongsam hanging to just below her knee, a large slit in one side running up almost to her hip. Lucy's eyes continued the long journey up the woman's elegant body, the figure hugging dress accentuating the athletic body beneath, the tight fabric tantalisingly tracing while concealing the woman's bosom. Her neck seemed to go on forever, adding to the grace oozing from every pore. Her face was like the most exquisite figure on some priceless Chinese porcelain, her features soft and nuanced but emotionless. With her jet black hair tied delicately, a single jade pin holding the luscious black locks in place, the woman's beauty and sheer presence was mesmerising.

"Come."

Matching the face perfectly, her voice was practiced and graceful, almost concealing an accent just hinted at. Then in one fluid movement, the woman turned and left, only her perfume lingering in the dark room. Lucy hesitated. She and her friends had experienced nothing but horror in this wretched place and she expected this to be no different. That she hadn't yet been personally tortured by this woman didn't mean that she would not be. But despite misgivings, Lucy knew disobeying gained nothing. So, staggering to her feet, the lack of sleep and physical exertions of the last few days making her weak and stiff, she followed the exotic visitor's perfumed trail. Her walk was ungainly, the prolonged masturbating of the last few hours making her pussy lips red and sore. She crossed one arm over her chest and placed the other at her crotch, trying to protect what little modesty she had. Turning the corner, Lucy saw the woman standing at the end of the corridor, amazed at how fast she covered the ground, her eyes beckoning the stumbling girl to hurry. And Lucy did, her long legs feeling like lead weights as she pushed herself down the stone hall. When she caught up, the oriental beauty silently opened a door to her right and glided through, Lucy silently following. As the woman moved effortlessly up some stone steps, Lucy paused then wearily climbed, hoping for only a short flight given her stiffness. Still covering herself and with a bowed head, Lucy's mind swam in an ocean of memories of what had been and fears for what was to come.

Tied in very different positions, the two girls in the basement felt their hours go very slow indeed. The stone walls echoed with the rhythm of the machine oscillating in and out of Holly, punctuated by the two victims' intermittent groans of pain and shame. Like a beast grumbling in its sleep, the mechanical sound made the total blackness even more terrifying. But the girls weren't interested in how their torture chamber sounded, focussed as they were on the pain racking their bodies and the fear and depression consuming their minds.

Olivia tried to keep quiet to avoid irritating her new wound which, though she didn't know it, had been so expertly done as to heal quickly. Unluckily for her. The original sharp excruciating agony was now just a dull ache that only sharpened when she involuntarily moved her mouth. And it wasn't just her mouth that ached. The abuse of the last few days had made her whole body so sore that shegroaned each time it twitched. Her breasts were bruised from being squeezed and twisted, one nipple in particular a swollen red. Her pussy was in continual pain. Her brutal rape when they first woke had been painful enough but each time she had been tortured there made it worse. But what hurt more than the physical pain was the psychological torment of knowing there was no immediate escape. She had already been forced to degrade herself and, being somewhat streetwise, knew very well the reason for her latest mutilation. She had watched enough porn, seen enough pictures on the internet and heard enough people talking to know why Greta wanted her to have a longer tongue. Olivia tried her best not to think about what the future held but she simply couldn't shake the terror gripping her. Only by blanking her mind could she hold back the tears.

Across the room Holly was an even more sorry case. She could only whimper even if the machine'smechanical clunking, rhythmically pounding her red raw pussy, drowned out the sound. Having not been fucked at all in her first eighteen years, she had now been fucked almost continuously for the last four hours. In truth she had lost track of time, the sound of her automated rapist fading into the background. For what hurt most was not the constant battering of her buttocks which bruised herwith every impact but, oddly, that she had cum many times. She had tried not to but having been roundly fucked for hours she was completely unable to stop it, each orgasm coming quicker and quicker, her pussy now as slick as an oil spill from both the lube being squirted out the top of the rubber dildo and her own juices which were pooling on the floor beneath her. Her whole body shook with each climax, the wave of pleasure receding to be instantly replaced with the underlying pain of her much abused body. Each orgasm was only minor, the monotonous fucking stimulating her slowly and methodically, but the constant stimulation was as emotionally draining as the subsequent pain. At first she had almost enjoyed it as a rare moment of pleasure in an ocean of pain. Although a virginbefore entering this basement of horrors, Holly was no stranger to an orgasm. But the machine's constant brutal fucking while bound and restrained was very different to the tender touch of her own fingers in her comfy bed at home. She soon dreaded each orgasm as it steadily forced her to associate pleasure with pain. Worse was the throbbing agony of her mountainous breasts, now just globes of pain, so bruised that they hurt even without being touched. But with her head and arms firmly clamped in heavy wooden stocks, her heaving breasts were forced to slap the hard wood, causing even more pain to her magnificent chest. Although the sound of her giant mounds thudding into the stocks was quiet compared with the other sounds in the cellar, her whimper at each impact was audible and now did nothing to relieve her misery. And the intense heat she felt inside her latex bodysuit caused so much sweat to pour off her that, combined with her tears and pussy juices, it had shrunk slightly, adding yet more discomfort. Racked with pain, Holly felt like an animal in an intensive farm just waiting to be slaughtered. And, she suspected, her torment wouldn't end soon.

An amber glow lit the metal forest of bowing machines stretching to the distant horizon of a desert landscape. The white haired man knew the view but it still made him smile as he rubbed his swollen belly. Jeremiah spent little time there now but having the photograph on his office wallreminded him how his fortune had started. All that black gold beneath the surface allowed him to sit here in $10,000 snakeskin boots in a room furnished with the most expensive trappings money could buy. It wasn't the best thing about his wealth and influence though. With a groan of pleasure, he looked down at the blonde head bobbing up and down on his erect prick. Placing his right hand on the back of her head, he pushed down, forcing the girl to gag as his cock slipped down her throat. Despite her training she still needed work, her struggle at deep throating him needing more practise. Three weeks he'd had the clever little college girl and despite his best efforts she still wasn't pleasing him as he expected. It would take time but he was sure he'd get her there eventually. Certainly with Greta Schweinberg's help, he would turn her into a good little sex slave in no time.

Still, he had to admit she had come a long way from when he had first got her. All those trips to Germany had whetted his appetite and with Greta's instructions he had set about getting his own little plaything. When he'd seen this one, he'd known she was perfect. It had been easy to give her the internship. When she woke in his basement, her face had been a picture, her shock and fear a permanent memory. He had thoroughly enjoyed taking the little slut down, her Harvard education doing nothing to stop his whips, his restraints or his dick. He'd fucked her every which way, using her in ways she couldn't possibly have imagined, causing her pain beyond her wildest nightmares. Of course there'd been an investigation, a trivial matter since his army of lawyers did not allow the police anywhere near him. So while people still looked for this bit of skirt, she had her mouth full of his engorged prick, his glans slipping deep into her throat. Six minutes in and he felt restless, the feeling of her hot moist tongue on his sensitive penis one of life's great gifts. Standing up, he grabbed her head with both hands as the girl continued to bob up and down his shaft. Without warning he slid his cock from her mouth, enjoying how she still reached out, eager to please him or at least to avoid punishment. With just the tip of his dick inside the cavern of pleasure that was her mouth, Jeremiah thrust forward, slamming his cock against the back of her throat. If her technique was better he would have let her finish him off by herself but he wanted to fuck her pretty little face.

"Look up, you stupid whore," the Texan bellowed at the girl, "Remember I wanna see those eyes."

Continuing to thrust forward and back, he swept her hair to one side to gaze into her eyes as he face-fucked her. The girl looked up, her mouth open like an obedient dog, her long eyelashes perfectly framing some stunning sapphire blue eyes that glinted in the light, silently crying for help.Looking down, he was sure she knew by now he wouldn't show her any mercy, pounding his dick forward and back, his big round belly occasionally obscuring that picture perfect face. Tightly gripping her hair in his hands, he threw his head back in pleasure, the brutal mouth rape filling the room with gagging as he pumped his dick in and out of her.

Having done everything to give him pleasure, Melissa now just knelt and allowed her mouth to be used as a sex toy. She had experienced this a lot over the last three weeks but was still not used to it. It was impossible to believe this could happen to anyone in the 21st century, especially in the United States. Thinking back further, she tried to remember her life before this suffering. On her application for the generously paid internship, she had felt her life was fantastic. A high achieving student at a prestigious college with a great group of friends, a loving supporting family, a clever boyfriend who was also a very good looking varsity track and field athlete - and then she had got a sought after position in a major corporation, her future life the envy of many contemporaries. Yet all that was gone. One moment she was having coffee with the head of the company and the next she had woken bound and helpless in a dark basement. In the days since, he had raped, tormented, tortured, humiliated and destroyed her, taking away all sense of self worth. Though determined to escape, she knew she would have to bide her time while obeying him as much as possible to avoid his various tortures and punishments. What depressed her most, though, was how arbitrary his torments were. Even complete obedience, doing everything he asked, did not stop him causing her unimaginable pain, her screams of agony and tears of anguish seemingly music to his ears. Being very attractive, she could at least understand why this fat old man would want to fuck her over and over but that did not explain the terrible tortures he gleefully inflicted or why he spoke to her like she was vermin. She could only wait, hoping someone would eventually rescue her from this living hell.

Jeremiah didn't care what the little bitch thought as he rammed his dick down her throat. All he cared about right now was how her mouth around his dick pushed him closer and closer to climax. With a large groan, he forced his cock down her throat until it was buried right up to the hilt, enjoying the sound of her choking on his dick. His whole body shuddering, both hands forced the girl's face hard into his crotch as he came, moaning loudly, shooting wads of his jizz down the girl's spluttering throat and feeling her muscles convulsing around his cock as she tried desperately to breathe, swallowing what she could of his cum just to get some air. He listened as she coughed and spluttered on his cum, laughing as she fought desperately for air. He waited until he was sure she would be frantic with panic before he moved his hips back and allowed the girl some precious oxygen. A thick strand of cum stretched from the tip of his steadily softening cock to her dainty little mouth and more seed dribbled out of her mouth and onto her chin. She coughed again, bringing up more of his viscous discharge from her throat into her mouth. But Jeremiah was not happy.

"Don't you dare cough that up," he snarled, the pleasure of his orgasm now replaced by the pleasure of watching her degrade herself, "swallow every last drop. And be grateful, you little bitch."

Melissa averted her eyes as she swallowed the semen, barely able to hide her disgust. She knew by now that she could only avoid further punishment by swallowing every last morsel of his cum. With her hands tied behind her, she had to use her tongue to swish around her chin to collect all she could. But even when she had, her ordeal did not end. The stubby finger of her tormentor ran across her face as if she were a child in a high chair, collecting all the spunk she couldn't reach and scooping it into her mouth. Humiliatingly, Melissa had to suck his finger clean of the cum he had collected, trying not to cough as he forced his index finger and then his middle finger deep into her mouth. He squeezed the end of his dick to milk the last of his cum onto his fingers then once again forced them into her mouth, thrusting them back and forth like a pseudo phallus.

"That's it," Jeremiah smirked, "I bet you've developed quite a taste for cum now, you filthy whore. Show me that it's all gone."

With a heavy heart, Melissa steadily looked up at her captor, unsuccessfully attempting to hide her shame. Reluctantly she opened her mouth until eventually she stared up at him with her mouth gaping, her tongue stretched down to her chin. She felt like a dog performing for her owner, an analogy that wasn't at all erroneous. She stared up at the man's wrinkled lecherous face as he brought his hand down and tilted her face from side to side, checking every last crevice of her mouth. Seemingly satisfied, he stood up, still looking down expectantly at the kneeling girl.

"Come on, bitch," he said with a flash of anger on his face, "show your fucking gratitude!"

Melissa closed her eyes, ready to feel yet another act of humiliation. She couldn't decide which was the worst; the frequent sexual abuse he inflicted, the constant physical pain he caused or the psychological torment he used to steadily erode her self esteem. They were all terrible beyond imagining and yet she didn't need to imagine, they were happening. What made it worse was his appetite seemed to have no end for he continued to plumb new depths of despair that Melissa was constantly surprised she had. Her steely resolve to escape and bring him to justice was eroding under the chilling thought that the rest of her life might be spent as this lecherous fat man's captive.Back in the present, Melissa mentally sighed and said what he expected as if reading from a script.

"Thank you for your cum, master."

"You're welcome, slave," Jeremiah replied, "Have you forgotten something?"

With another mental sigh, Melissa leant forward and with a delicacy that never failed to please Jeremiah, kissed the end of his cock, now hanging limply against his sagging scrotum. In her previous life, she would never have gone anywhere near this man's dick but now she had little choice but to virtually worship it. It was scarcely believable how far she'd fallen in just a short time, from a successful and ambitious young woman to nothing more than a sexual slave.

"Good girl." Jeremiah said patronisingly, patting his slave on the head to reinforce her subordination, "Stand up!"

He barked this last command at her, the transition between his tones shocking despite Melissahaving grown to expect such raw anger from him. She obeyed immediately, struggling to her feet despite not being able to use her hands by spreading her legs slightly and putting out one high heeled foot. Pausing to compose herself, she pushed up, rising quickly but unsteadily to both feet, using all her strength to raise herself off the floor. Tottering violently from side to side, she tried to stand up straight and still, desperate to avoid his wrath. The ridiculously tall high heels he had her wear were incredibly difficult to stand still on and she teeter-tottered like a new born gazelle as she stood in front of him, waiting nervously for what he would have her do next.

Jeremiah watched his captive struggle to control herself on the stripper heels he made her wear. Six inches high, they made her slightly taller than him but only because he let her. Anything she did was only because he allowed it. He couldn't believe he had lived so long without such direct physical power over another person. Moving back to sit on the edge of his desk, his eyes never left the girl standing uncertainly before him, trying to recall another woman so gloriously attractive. Everything about her was a teenage boy's wet dream; long shapely legs, a tight arse, a toned flat stomach, dainty hands and feet, a face to melt hearts and eyes that, for Jeremiah at least, were made to be filled with fear. But her crowning glories were her breasts. When she had entered his office a month ago, his eyes had been irresistibly drawn to the mounds her crisp white shirt tried in vain to conceal. It had been all he could do not to leer at them while the stuck up bitch talked shit and it was the first job interview he had ever done with a raging hard on. After she left, he knew he would have to get his hands on those luscious tits, jacking himself off as he thought about squeezing his face between them. He had been ecstatic when seeing them free of their fabric prison, each one almost an archetype ofthe perfect breast. Although from a distance her tits seemed only slightly above average on her tall slender athletic body, hands-on inspection proved this untrue. Checking her bra size confirmed that he had his very own pair of DDs to play with. And play with them he had. Over the weeks, he had slapped them, twisted them, bound them, flogged them, slid his dick between them and inflicted on them all manner of other tortures and torments. Anything he could think to do with those globes he had done, the more pain he caused the better. And now he had another idea.

Although she had tried not to think about the pain she was in, she was acutely aware of the old man's lecherous stare as it angrily focussed on her. Despite her blank face attempting to deny her tormentor pleasure, he was certain her body was screaming in pain, especially her much abused tits. With her arms tied behind her back and her elbows tied tightly together, her tits were thrust out invitingly and he had adorned them appropriately. Running along the length of her torso were two leather straps passing on either side of her tits, forcing them together and culminating in one strap at her belly button. A thin strip of leather emanated from there between her pussy lips and along the crack of her arse, up her back before connecting with the rest of the mankini style outfit at her back. Each perfect pink nipple sported a vicious clamp, biting eachsensitive nub with serrated teeth and the rest of her sensitive globes were pinched by many specialised spring-loaded "clothes" pegs. Melissa's tits had long since gone numb so they didn't cause her pain but there was a tingling undertone to the painful clamps on her nipples. And she had been forced to walk round with the strap rubbing her sensitive sex all day, the leather rubbing her pussy lips raw. The current tortures added to the aches and pains of the previous few weeks, keeping her whole body in constant pain.

"OK, bitch," Jeremiah said as he dressed, "go stand in the fucking corner. Just a few more things to sort out then we can head off. We'll get you properly trained over there."

Melissa didn't know what he meant when he mentioned over there. Everything was still a shock and she tried to keep her thoughts from running away from her. Slowly, carefully, she stumbled over to the corner, facing the wall so as not to distract her captor from his work. She used to pride herself on being strong and independent but now this intelligent beautiful young woman stood in a corner, naked, bound, tortured ... and began to weep.

The smell hit Lucy as she walked through the door behind the elegant Asian. Having smelt little but sweat, tears and fear over the last few days, the overpowering aroma of incense and sensual oils was very welcome, the strength physically taking her aback. In front of her was a vivid red curtain emblazoned with a golden dragon. Behind it Lucy heard the sound of Eastern music overlain by the occasional sounds of both men and women howling in apparent ecstasy. As her senses were overwhelmed, she stopped in her tracks, causing the woman in front of her to turn and narrow her sultry hazel eyes. It was enough to stir almost fear in Lucy who without thinking started walking again, hobbling slightly, behind the black cheongsam. With amazing elegance, a long olive arm reached out and brushed aside the silk curtain hanging from the ceiling.

As she followed, stumbling through the room, Lucy could scarcely believe her eyes, the pace of her tour seemingly slowed to allow her to take it in. On all sides were colours she had almost forgotten when in the basement; red, gold, green, blue and royal purple. The scent she smelt on the other side of the curtain was now far more powerful, burning candles on all sides filling the room with the sweet smell of a Turkish bath house. But what got her attention the most was not the smell or the candles. In alcoves along the corridor, sheer curtains of fabric scarcely hid scenes straight out of an adult film, all manner of sex was in plain view: one man and one woman, two men and a woman, two, three, four women and a man; all possible variations seemed on offer. The variety was extraordinary too, from plain sex to astounding combinations of domination and submission, especially given the apparent willingness of the participants. Clearly it was not merely a crazed trio who had taken the three girls but some much larger and much more sinister operation. A click of the woman's fingers stopped her from gawping too long, snapping her from her dazed almost trance like state and making her stumble quickly to keep up. Seeing the end of the corridor, she wondered what new bizarre scenes lay beyond. As the woman brushed it aside, Lucy was almost disappointed.

Beyond was another dark corridor, much less impressive than the room of sexual delicacies she had just traversed. So engrossed in the sex scenes all around her, Lucy had failed to spot this main entrance despite its grand nature, a heavy set crimson wooden door again emblazoned with a large golden dragon which the clients exited and entered from. But behind the scenes was a dark and dingy space more like what she had experienced in captivity. Silently the elegant figure leading Lucy continued walking then turned left to open a heavy wooden door. Lucy had to scamper to get through for she knew it would not be held open ... and was taken aback by what she saw. Bathed in the light of many candles whose smells wafted exquisitely toward her, she could see deep red walls flickering in the candlelight. In the centre, a large porcelain bath was plumed in steam. It was an unbelievable sight and her instincts told her not to expect that the freshly run bath was for her. She stood, awaiting instructions. The dark-haired woman turned to face Lucy, her eyes expressing no emotion at all and a piercing stare captured Lucy's attention as she stooped low, attempting to cover her body, a far cry from the proud confident girl of just a few days before.

"You are very lucky," she spoke, her practised English oozing grace and elegance. The woman could see the young English woman distrusted a statement she believed so obviously untrue, so she continued, "Mistress has chosen you. You will not be like many of the girls that come through these doors; a piece of meat for all those old men to fuck and torture."

Lucy knew the woman was talking about her friends. Clearly what she had seen on television when forced to fuck herself with the dildo had been a glimpse into their future, especially given the scale of the operation that had captured them. Far from being kidnapped for the sick twisted enjoyment of a deranged woman and her obedient lust filled sidekicks, she realised they were the newest additions to some underground international sex slave ring. It was like something in an airport novelor some sick and twisted movie. Except that Lucy knew it was totally real. She listened to what she was hearing but her mind wandered, bleakly grappling with their hopeless situation.

"Instead you will work here," the woman said with a clinical coldness, "with others who have been chosen. Your job is to please clients any way they like. You will also have the opportunity to assist Mistress and the clients as they have their fun. You will learn everything you need to be successful."

Lucy was staggered by this but was relieved at what she was avoiding. As bad as she felt for her friends, she was relieved not to be perpetually subject to what she had felt and seen in that dungeon. It was almost as if, even this early, she was accepting her fate and learning to enjoy her new surroundings. She felt terrible thinking it but felt some pride in being picked out as special. And though she felt guilty about her friends, she was pleased to escape the dungeon. She was so relieved she wouldn't be bent over and fucked with clamps on her nipples or whatever that she completely missed being expected to helptorturing girls just like them.

"First you must be bathed and scented," the woman continued, "then we can begin."

With that, the elegant woman ushered her toward the steaming tub. Looking at it, Lucy's mind raced, feeling as if she were betraying her friends by accepting this hospitality, giving her captors a legitimacy they didn't deserve. Yet the water was so inviting and the stench she gave off as well as the smell of sex from her genitals was obvious. One tentative step at a time, she inched toward the bathtub, each step feeling like a silent betrayal. Closing her eyes, Lucy thought about what she was doing, the magnetic attraction of the water part of accepting the situation she was in. But the combination of her discomfort and fear of refusing made her move inexorably towards it. The scent of jasmine wafted tantalisingly as she approached the side of the white porcelain tub, her eyes opening enough to see rose petals littering the water's surface. It was a luxurious ablution Lucy hadn't been used to even when free. Approaching the first step, she slowly raised her foot and put it down. Her legs ached something ferocious and the water pulled her irresistibly. Moving faster, she scaled the steps until level with the water's surface then took a deep breath and stepped forward.

As the water lapped her ankle, Lucy sighed. She had almost forgotten how wonderful warm water caressing her skin felt, the added bath oils giving her skin a silky kiss. She felt positively orgasmic as she sank into the water, the heat so intense she only just tolerated it. Just magical. Lucy could onlysmile at the pleasure she felt in steadily lowering herself into the steaming water. For a moment she tried to forget the situation and just enjoy the bath, knowing it could disappear back into a world of shame and pain at any moment. Sinking deep into the bath, the water lapping around her neck, Lucy slid down and closed her eyes then slid further and submerged her head, floating away into a dream world and momentarily escaping from the hell she was in.

Greta's steps on the staircase signalled the beginning of the next session of torture for the other two victims. But over the din in the basement, neither Holly nor Olivia heard the click clack of the heels on the hard stone steps and did not realise their next session of pain and humiliation was imminent. Greta chose to keep the lights off, preserving her entrance to maximise the girls' surprise and fear. Despite the dark, she knew the number of steps, surefootedly striding down. As much as it was essential to run her operation as a business, she enjoyed spending time down here the most. It would be fantastic to see how her little pets had endured the night. Already she could hear the rhythmic clunking of the mechanical dildo pounding into the abused pussy of the big titted cow she had so much enjoyed torturing. Seeing her broken little bitch locked in those stocks would be fantastic, as would squeezing those ridiculous melons with her talon like claws. Then there was the delight of the soon to be expert cunt licker who she had let off lightly so far. There was plenty of time to have her fun with the pint sized princess though; it wasn't as if she lacked for toys. So while it was a chamber of horrors for the two English schoolgirls, it was a palace of pleasure for Greta. Stepping off the final step, she walked slowly across the floor.

The sounds were as magical as the sights that would soon greet her. As she drifted slowly across the floor, she listened intently to the room's myriad noises. The loudest noise was a rhythmic bumping that sounded like a washing machine. But the real music to Greta's ears were the quieter sounds, the moans and whimpers of the two abused girls as they suffered the indignities she had forced on them. Olivia's muffled groans were the pick of them and Greta stood listening, her ear right next to the poor girl's mouth, smiling as she savoured the audible evidence of her pain. Greta's practiced persona was to express no emotion and smiling was a rare treat. In the darkness she could have a bit of fun, the element of surprise adding another twist to the girl's torture. Fingers primed, Greta reached out and with a wide smirk, gripped Olivia's left tit hard, digging her talons into the soft pliant flesh and listening as her whimpers grow louder. Like a conductor with an orchestra, Greta experimented, trying to change the sounds coming from her muffled mouth. With her fingers pinching the soft pink flesh of her sensitive nipple, Greta listened to a muffled yelp which grew louder and higher pitched as the nub was roughly twisted, her sharp nails digging in relentlessly.

Were her mouth not full of bandages, Olivia would have screamed her lungs out as Greta's long nails bit into her nipple. At first she had thought she was having a heart attack such was the sudden and ferocious pain in her chest. It wasn't until fingers twisted her areola that she realised one of her tormentors had returned to increase her misery. As her nipple was twisted like a perverse dial, Olivia squealed like a pig, the gauze in her mouth allowing only a whine. Though she had tried to keep her noises to a minimum for hours, she could do nothing now since the pain was so intense. Wriggling did nothing as she firmly strapped in and she could only squeal again as Greta's other hand assaulted the teen's other breast, violently twisting both nipples with relish. Olivia arched her back in pain as Greta tugged on her tits in the darkness. As she tried to muffle her screams, Olivia heard unmistakeable laughter coming from the figure above her. It was still shocking that somebody could get so much enjoyment from the pain of another human being. As her tits were brutally pulled and twisted, Olivia squealed once again, her nipples feeling like they were being pulled off her chest. Then as suddenly as it had begun, the abuse of her tits ended.

"Lights!"

And now Olivia saw the face of her tormentor, a woman who not only had her raped and tortured but had cut and physically maimed her, standing above her in the same leather dominatrix outfit from the first time she had woken in this hell hole. It was all so horrible and, as she looked helplessly at the grinning face of evil above her, Olivia couldn't help but weep.

"Quit crying," Greta spat, her smile replaced with violent rage, "or I'll cut your fucking clit off."

With that chilling threat, Greta walked round the table, inspecting Olivia's slight but shapely frame. She had a great figure and Greta knew she would explore it more over the next few days, especially that lovely long tongue of hers. And her firm bouncy tits were exquisite, she thought, unusual on such a small girl. Although Holly's melons took the prize for the trio's best boobs, the bouncing tits on this cute bubbly cunt were certainly worth an honourable mention. Plenty of clients would go crazy over them, making excellent toys for them to play and punish her with. Giving them a squeeze, she trailed her long nails down her victim's toned tummy, eventually reaching her crotch. Feeling a rough stubble, she made a note to order her toys shaved. Finally she reached the girl's pussy, still red and looking very sore. Her fingers ran over the delicate pussy lips of the suffering girl before slipping inside the tight chute of her cunt. Greta wanted to make very clear how helpless the little bitch was and how she could do anything she wanted to any part of her body. It was a beautiful little cunt as well, pink but with pronounced lips and a lovely tight hole. Greta had really struck the mother load with this haul; three tight babes, each gorgeous in their own individual way. And English speaking was a big bonus. Just thinking of what she would personally do to their young lithe bodies over the next few days made Greta wet. Continuing to work her fingers in and out of Olivia's snatch, she thought about it, barely registering the grip of Olivia's pussy on her long well manicured fingers. But when she felt the girl's natural reaction to secrete her juices over her fingers, Greta stopped;she did not want Olivia enjoying herself. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she licked them clean, savouring the taste of her young pussy juices. It was time, she thought, to attend to the other victim.

"Hasan," Greta shouted up the stairs, his footsteps clattering on the heels of her voice, "sort out her bandages, have her fed and clean her up."

Leaving Olivia to Hasan, Greta walked slowly to the helpless girl in the stocks. Her hatred for whatHolly represented was visceral and watching the cunt humiliated was fantastic for the bitter German. Hearing footsteps, Holly looked to see if Greta had anything to cause her more pain, her doe like brown eyes filling with tears, both from the pain she was in and from anticipating more horrific torture. Greta knew her innocent little slave's thoughts and acted to intensify them, fixing her gaze with a menacing and rage filled stare which made her vengeful smile even more alien. Walking slowly, she made Holly rigid with fear, her utter helplessness only intensifying the situation. Holly couldn't tear her eyes away from the approaching dominatrix. Greta knelt, her face inches from the helpless girl's tear stained latex cheeks, and inquired with faux sympathy.

"How did it enjoy its night of being fucked?" Greta asked, as sympathetic as a mother speaking to her child and stroking Holly's face, "did it cum again and again?"

Greta waited, unsure whether Holly realised her mistress expected an answer. Holly looked straight into her tormentor's eyes, trying in vain to see anything she could use to appeal to the woman's humanity. As her mouth was ungagged, she thought briefly about pleading for clemency but quickly dismissed it; this woman had no mercy. Numb, Holly could only stare vacantly at the woman who took so much pleasure torturing her and who now spoke to her as something lower than an animal.

SMACK!!!!

"Answer me, cunt!" Greta snapped, striking a fierce blow to Holly's latex clad cheeks, the sound and her piercing screech ringing around the room, "Did it enjoy itself?"

"Yes, mistress," Holly said after composing herself, not daring to wait for another vicious slap.

"Did its cunt get wet as it got fucked?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Did it cum over and over?" Greta persisted with the patronising tone.

"Yes, mistress"

"What does it say then? Or is it an ungrateful cunt?"

"Sorry, thank you, mistress."

"Better," Greta said, shaping as if about to stand before acting as if she had forgotten something and squatting back down again, "Hold on. Remind me, did I say it was allowed to cum?"

Holly's eye shot open wide at this question as she tried desperately to remember exactly what had been said to her when she had been left. She remembered how roughly she had been put into position and that Greta had said something about her being a 'filthy slut' who was to be rewarded. Did that mean she had been allowed to cum? It wasn't like she had had a choice; being fucked like that for so long would have forced any girl to an orgasm regardless of how they resisted. Surely Greta hadn't expected her to not cum at all during the ordeal?

"I...," Holly stammered as she flicked it over in her mind, desperate to find words that would spare her whatever the punishment was for disobeying, "I don't kn... remember mistress, I..."

The sound of slapped latex again filled the room and again Holly screeched.Scrunching her face into a snarl, Greta bent closer to the shiny black rubber of Holly's face to interrogate her further.

"No!" Greta screamed at Holly from inches away, "It is not 'I', 'me' or whatever its fucking name was before anymore! It is a worthless fucking cunt! So answer my question; did I say it could cum!?"

Holly knew she had no choice but to give in to Greta's ridiculous demands. She had not been given explicit permission to cum, of that she was now sure, but she was also sure she had had no choice but to. She had forgotten that Greta was not interested in what was fair or even physically possible. Instead, Holly realised, she would invent arbitrary rules the girls would inevitably break just so they could be punished for the enjoyment of these sick bastards. Knowing now that irrespective of what she said, she would have to endure yet more terrible pain, Holly braced herself before answering.

"No, mistress," she spluttered, trying to fight back tears.

"No?" Greta asked with faux surprise, "But it said it did cum. Many times. Did it forget it must ask permission before it can cum?"

"But...mistress it..."

"Did it forget that it doesn't own its own body anymore?"

"No, mistress. But..."

"So if it knew it hadn't been given permission to cum, why did it cum so much?"

"Mistress, it was imposs..."

"Is it that much of a whore it can't control whether it cums or not?"

"Sorry, mistress, please it wasn't..." Holly said, tears streaming down her black cheeks as she tried desperately to avoid the now inevitable punishment. She was cut off by another vicious blow to her face, flooding her vision with stars. Standing, Greta walked round the restrained girl, exploiting the dizziness she had created to confuse her victim. She inspected the rear of her toy, enjoying the pool of pussy juice on the floor beneath the bitch's battered cunt. Seeing her tits slam against the wooden stock holding her head and arms, she hoped it had made those big udders even more sore and sensitive. When Greta switched off the dildo causing Holly's forbidden orgasms, the phallus eased slowly to a halt, finishing half embedded in her pretty pink cunt. Swinging one leg over Holly's straight back, Greta sat down directly above the wooden block supporting her lower body, riding her like an animal and reinforcing the idea of the girl as not human. Bending forward slightly, Greta reached beneath Holly's torso and eagerly grabbed the hanging globes. Squeezing the mounds of soft flesh, she pressed her own cunt into Holly's back, feeling a shudder of pain run down herspine. She had known the bitch's melons would be sensitive but the reaction enthralled her and she couldn't wait to inflict yet more punishment on those fat tits.

"Right, cunt," Greta said, her fingers still kneading the pliant flesh of Holly's tits, "as it is a whore which cannot be trusted to control itself, it must not be rewarded with any more stimulation. What should be done about your disobedience, cunt?"

Greta emphasised the need for answer by almost immediately sinking her nails into each breast, almost breaking the skin with her sharpened talons. Holly whined in pain but managed to squeeze out what she thought Greta wanted to hear.

"It should be punished, mistress," she said through gritted teeth, not just at the humiliating nature of what she had to say but from the searing pain ripping through each bruised breast.

"Say 'this cunt should be punished, mistress'," Greta said, relaxing her grip slightly as Holly obeyed her commands.

"This cunt should be punished, mistress."

"I agree, Tits," Greta said, the name she had given the bitch early on just coming back to her, "but how should such selfish disobedience by such a worthless slutty whore be punished?"

"I...it should be...," Holly struggled to get something out. How was she supposed to choose her own punishment? How could she choose which part of her body would suffer what pain next? Not only could she not imagine choosing to suffer from pain but she was certain that whatever she suggested would be dismissed and be a cause of further punishment. She couldn't win and with her body already racked with pain, she was numbly reluctant to heap yet more misery on herself.

"Hurry, cunt," Greta said, once again sinking her nails into those luscious mounds, making Holly whine once again, "or does it not want to please its masters?"

"Yes mistress," Holly said quickly through the pain, knowing that was exactly what Greta wished to hear, "but it doesn't know how to be punished."

Holly thought this answer would appease Greta as it accepted that her role was to please her masters at all times. But she was still far too proud to fully please her evil mistress. Perhaps if she had asked her punishment to be chosen for her, if she had said how worthless she was and how she was not worthy to choose her own punishment. Perhaps if she had begged to have her tits beaten with thin wooden rods, if she had begged for her pussy to be stretched by the most gigantic dildo or clamoured to have all her nails ripped out one by one while she screamed at the top of her voice, she would have been given her wish and spared any surprises. But nothing Holly could do wouldspare her any pain for Greta was having too much fun even though her time with these wonderful girls was much shorter than she would have liked. It was the same with every new catch and unfortunately it always seemed too short. Once she had them working for her, she would get precious little time to play with them; when their clients had finished with them, they would likely need a rest period and even when available she would be busy with new toys. A pity but that washow it had to be if she was to keep this rare bastion of the depraved up to her high standards. But as she squeezed the fabulous soft flesh of Holly's suffering tits, she knew it would be particularly difficult to give up this one. Many had breasts as big as this, indeed some even bigger, but few if any were as symmetrical, round, bouncy or perfectly formed as this little English bitch. She had thought to keep this one as her own personal toy but needed her for a very special client. Perhaps later she'd have the big titted slave for her own. Meanwhile she would squeeze as much sadistic pleasure out of these mounds as possible, mentally recording the screams and screeches to remember later.

"That is a shame, Tits," Greta said with a broad smile as she roughly massaged the heavy globes in her hands, "if it had devised its own punishment, its generous mistress would have carried it out, even if it was lenient. Even if it had only asked its mistress to tickle its toes that is what I would have done. But because it is a lazy useless cunt, I will have to decide on a punishment. It will not be pleasant, cunt. First though we need to do something to these fucking udders."

With that, Greta looked at Hasan who had finished examining Olivia's mouth. Obeying silently, Hasan yelled out something the girls didn't understand, the bark of Turkish words echoing harshly around the room. Shortly after, Mehmet entered, dressed in a pair of boxer shorts and carrying a small refrigerated box. Saying nothing, he approached the sobbing girl and the gleeful dominatrix. Placing the box beside Holly with his eyes fixed on the pendulous breasts encased in Greta's grasping hands, he felt very lucky to have had those massive tits in his hands just once. And yet more chances to squeeze them and plunge deep into her various orifices were in the offing.

As Greta opened the small container, a layer of cold air fell over its sides into the basement's slightly warmer air. When Mehmet handed her some thin latex gloves, on a whim, the German stretched them and flicked Holly's tits a few times, just to draw a small wince from the girl she sat astride. With them on, Greta reached into the icy box and pulled out a large plastic syringe, frosted on the outside, with a long metal spike through which the cloudy liquid inside would be injected. Puttingthe syringe at the base of Holly's right tit, Greta was set to plunge it in when she paused. What was she thinking? How could she not panic the bitch by showing her the needle that would be pushed deep into her tit flesh? With a wry smile, Greta swung her leg over the girl's back and walked to her front again. Bending over and still smiling, she slowly showed Holly the terrifying syringe dripping with a mysterious liquid. When she saw it, Holly screamed and shook violently from side to side, drawing laughter from her three tormentors, her wriggling doing nothing to loosen her restraints. Not knowing what was in it made Holly more scared of the syringe than the other implements she had been tortured with. Forgetting its previous futility, she began to plead.

"Please, mistress," Holly cried desperately, tears streaming down her face, "please don't hurt...use that thing...please mistress this...this cunt begs..."

A familiar sound filled the room as Greta again slapped Holly hard. The blow was so powerful it almost knocked her unconscious, her eyes rolling briefly into the back of her head. Even Greta was surprised by the force of the strike even if she was glad to have caused such pain. In truth the slap was backed by real anger, for she was growing tired of the pathetic mewling that was all the tied up cow seemed capable of. At least before when they had been gagged she hadn't been forced to hear the self pitying crap these stuck up English girls constantly spewed.

"Shut the fuck up, cunt," Greta said, her anger spilling into her voice, "it never tells me what to do. It only begs for what I tell it to. Now it better hold still whilst I stick this into its tit."

Constantly looking into her captive's eyes, Greta then slowly slid the needle into the meat of Holly's right tit, knowing how painful the thick needle would be. Once buried to the hilt, she injected the liquid deep into her tit flesh. Her eyes never leaving those beautiful brown saucers encased in shining black, she removed the needle and handed it to Mehmet who gave her another. Repeatingthe process with Holly's other breast, Greta jiggled her toys once more, just for fun. She loved how those bouncing boobs felt, knowing the slave was tormented with shame by each caress, pinch or squeeze of her massive tits. Reluctantly giving each globe a final hard squeeze, she stood, her cunt level with Holly's face, its wetness allowing her to see how much Greta had enjoyed hurting her.

"Have Tits fed, watered and then set up her punishment," Greta said as she walked back across the room, "I'll be back to play with it later."

Greta strode back to the table where Olivia was still spread out. The blood stained bandages had been removed from the girl's pretty little mouth and a small plastic ring inserted to hold it open to prevent her from speaking and making her tongue take longer to heal. It had also made feeding her easier, Hasan currently putting the apparatus he had used back into the gloom. Olivia's skin glistened with the water he had used to wash her, her dripping blonde hair slicked back against her head and down onto the table. Further down, Greta saw the stubble around her pubes had beenshaved smooth by Hasan's skilful hand. Olivia had been neglected as Greta dealt with her big titted friend but that was about to change as she picked up a small bottle Hasan had left on the table.

"All nice and clean, baby," Greta whispered as she stroked the bound girl's stretched stomach, "now let's get that cunt smelling beautiful and fresh."

Greta pumped the bottle to spray a fine mist on the freshly shaved lips of Olivia's splayed pussy. It took a few seconds but the reaction was worth it. The first sign of the spray's effect was Olivia going almost bug eyed in a combination of surprise and pain. Then came the squeal. Even with her cut tongue, Olivia's piercing screech filled the room and she pulled violently on the straps securing her to the workbench, her pelvis jerking up and down and her torso writhing in agony as the acidic spray excruciatingly stung her newly shaved privates. Mehmet and Greta enjoyed watching her squirmfutilely against her bonds, her struggles failing to assuage the agonising pain tearing her sensitive cunt. So intense was the pain and unable to see what the spray had done, Olivia felt sure her skin was being burned away, vivid images of dissolving flesh flicking through her mind. Greta knew otherwise; she would never do permanent physical damage to one of her toys. Why would she want to ruin such a beautiful cunt? Instead the only evidence for Olivia's writhing anguish was a slight reddening of her groin, the devilishly painful spray leaving no other mark, her desperate squealing and struggling notwithstanding. Greta laughed at her desperate writhings, her beautiful breasts bouncing around as she moved as best she could. With her legs and arms immobilised and her head strapped in, all she could do was shake her torso from side to side and push her pelvis up before slamming her firm little arse back onto the hard wood, the actions all magically combining with the girl's beautiful features contorted into a grimace of sheer agony.

"What are you screaming for?" Greta asked, still laughing, her voice dripping with faux incredulity, "I spray a little fragrance on your pretty little pussy and you act as if I'd tortured you. What an ungrateful little bitch whore you are!"

Of course both Greta and Hasan knew why she was screaming. True, Greta had sprayed Olivia's vulva with fragrance, making it nice and fresh after its ordeal over the previous few days. But the burning pain Olivia felt went far beyond anything a man spraying an after shave on a cut might feel. For Greta had mixed an irritant into the fragrance which did not dissolve skin like a strong acid but did cause significant pain even to fresh unbroken skin. But for Olivia's freshly shaved, abused and naturally sensitive sex, it was agonising. Her thirst for violence not sated, Greta stroked the sensitive skin with her gloved hands, knowing this would only increase Olivia's pain. Sure enough, her delicious screams increased a few decibels, much to Greta's delight. With smiling anticipation, Greta again picked up the bottle and, with her gloved hand directly over Olivia's burning crotch, carefully sprayed just her gloved fingers with the liquid. The glove now dripping, Greta rubbed it down Olivia's midriff, coating yet more of her skin in the acidic fragrance, spreading the liquid all over her stomach and sides. Although this skin was largely untouched, the irritant was so strong it still stung, spreading the pain up from her pubic region to her torso, following the trail of the latex glove as it snaked even higher. With both hands now on the girl's body, Greta rubbed her torturous fingers up the girl's succulent breasts, pushing hard against the mound of flesh, squashing them against her ribs and bringing her slippery digits up over Olivia's tits. Massaging the spray onto the supple globes, she took particular care to rub the torturous nectar into Olivia's proud nipples.

As the intense pain in her crotch tailed off and a less stinging pain in her breasts took hold, Olivia's violent struggles lessened, knowing it was impossible to avoid the woman now gripping her breasts. Olivia felt relieved as the severe pain lessened for it meant that little damage had been done to her precious sex. But as Greta's hands again moved down Olivia's lithe back to the newly shaved area, the rush of pain returned with a vengeance. With another scream, Olivia's frantic squirming began again. But the cloudy white hands of her tormentor had a terrible intent. With her fingers covered in liquid, Greta slid her middle finger down between the lips of Olivia's delicate slit. Continuing her descent, the German listened to the ear piercing screeching of the captive girl, smiling as she slid the tip of her middle finger into the hot passage of Olivia's cunt.Olivia could scarcely believe the pain could increase, greater than before. A fire shot up her as Greta slid her long bony finger further into her hole and her thrashing was now so intense that the strong bonds binding her to the table began to creak, the leather rubbing her wrists and ankles painfully. Greta didn't care. Instead she moved more of her hand down to Olivia's two holes, her index finger joining her middle finger inside Olivia's pussy, pushing as far into it as she could until it was buried up to the knuckle while her ring finger slipped along Olivia's perineum until it pressed against the tight and as yet unpenetrated rosebud of the girl's arse. With her thumb rubbing the liquid straight onto Olivia's protruding clitoris, Greta's hand was stretched like a pianist's when she pushed into the bound teen's virgin arsehole.

"AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"

Olivia's screech was so intensely loud and piercing, it was almost otherworldly. Greta looked up to check the girl hadn't passed out; in all her years she had never heard a scream like it. Perhaps it was the ring gag, her newly lengthened tongue, a low pain threshold or just a love of screaming but Greta could scarcely believe what she heard. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. When she heard gorgeous babes like Olivia scream in sheer agony like that, she simply could not understand why so few people did not do what she did. Greta was stretching every sinew just to keep delivering the exquisite pain to this most sensitive part of Olivia's body. With the table rocking with the force of Olivia's struggles, Greta had to bend over to keep her fingers plunged as far into the schoolgirl as possible. With two fingers up her pussy and one in her arse, Olivia looked like a human puppet, her violent wriggling making her puppet master appear to be in the throes of some violent epileptic fit. Olivia's recently cleaned body cascaded with sweat but as one of the fittestathletes at her school, the girl still tried to throw her torturer off and bring some blessed relief. Greta was amazed at the little girl's strength, never imagining such a small frame could exert so much effort. The little cunt even impressed her for she had expected these three English girls to immediately roll over and obey. But although she had broken the slutty one's will to resist almost straight away and the big-titted sobbing cunt wasn't far behind, this spunky blonde fucker was more competitive. Being such a determined little bitch didn't disappoint Greta though. Not in the slightest. It just made breaking the bitch even more fun. And if it didn't happen by the time her clients came, they would get an even better deal, playing not just with a docile toy but one that resisted their heinous punishments.

"Plenty of fight in this one," Greta said to Hasan, the strain of her own effort showing in her face.

"We must change that," he chuckled, relishing what that would mean for both him and Olivia.

"Lovely tight ass for us to play with as well," Greta continued, "You hear that, cunt? That pretty little ass of yours is going to be ripped apart real soon."

The thought of Olivia's pretty little virgin bud being painfully stretched open gave Greta an idea. Reluctantly pulling her ring finger from its cosy little home with a small pop, Greta lined it up with Olivia's already stretched vagina and slowly worked it inside. The slippery liquid coating her fingers helped ease the new intruder into the moist snatch of the still wriggling girl who barely noticed the fresh pain of her overstretched pussy over the searing pain of the irritant. Pushing hard as she met plenty of resistance, Greta buried a third finger up to the knuckle inside the tight passage then placed the little finger of her right hand against the entrance. Pushing out with her three fingers, she created a gap just big enough to slip in the tip of this last digit but that was all the cunt's cunt could take for now. She had been hoping the girl would be loose enough to slip her fist inside (causing plenty of pain of course) and fuck the bitch with it. She knew how much pain she could cause as she rammed her knuckles into a woman's cervix. But as much fun as it would be to stretch this cunt until she could do just that, it would tear her apart and ruin her for future clients. There would be plenty of time for that for she had no intention of letting her toys go anywhere any time soon. Indeed Greta envisioned a time when both girls would be bent over with both her arms buried in their young cunts. In the meantime she would have to be content with using the four fingers already inside Olivia to fuck her. Moving just slightly in and out, she began to oscillate inside the girl's moist cunt.

Far from enjoying this new sensation, Olivia squirmed as vigorously as before, desperate to escapethe woman's clutches. Unlike the rest of her body where the pain had dissipated as the liquidevaporated, her warm moist holes retained the moisture and the pain still stung. Added to this was the incredibly painful stretching of her vagina as the fingers pulled it apart so much Olivia thought she would tear in two. She had put many things in her vagina over the last few years: cocks, fingers, sex toys and even the odd vegetable. But Mehmet's giant cock had been the biggest thing she'd had and that was merely a day or so ago. Now she was feeling even more stretched and the pain was excruciating. Mercifully for Olivia, Greta decided she had stretched the girl's cunny enough for now; the couple she was saving Olivia for would love a nice tight hole to play with. As she removed her hand, she gave the girl's nether regions one last smear of liquid to cause her suffering captive more pain and, after firmly slapping Olivia's cunt, stood up.

"My my, Blondie," Greta marvelled, genuinely surprised as she walked round the still thrashing girl, "you are a feisty one. But don't worry, baby, I'll soon knock that out of you. By the time I'm done, you'll be as obedient as that proud slutty whore upstairs and that pathetic cow over there. You'll be a good little sex slave who only thinks about pleasing me. But unfortunately I must now deal with Tits. But don't panic, girl, I'll be back." Greta then turned to where Mehmet and Holly were waiting.

Gazing at herself, Lucy was utterly transfixed. She could scarcely recognise herself. Dripping with water, her long thin body was covered with evidence of her difficult time. Running her eyes down her body, she brooded over each individual mark. Her brown nipples were swollen and reddened atop her small pert breasts. The tanned skin of her toned stomach was covered in reddened patches where they had rubbed against something hard. Between her legs, her pussy was also slightly red. As she turned, Lucy saw her rear and thighs crisscrossed with red lines and welts from being repeatedly whipped. She stared at her reflection for a long time, scarcely believing what those three maniacs in the basement had done to her or what they had made her do to her friends. But it all paradoxically seemed far in the past as she stood before the mirror freshly washed, her whole body smelling beautifully of jasmine. Her room wasn't luxurious but it was no dungeon, with a single bed in one corner, a toilet and sink in another and along one wall the mirror she was looking into now. The lighting was soft, the décor minimal but not unpleasant, the smell from candles burning on the bedside table luxurious. Looking back into the mirror, Lucy saw what had been done with her hair and face. Dark black lines framed her hazel eyes, making them look even more sultry than usual. Her hair was bound into a tight but still dripping ponytail. Her skin was kissed with a light foundation, her nigh on flawless skin needing very little assistance. Lucy knew she always looked good but the work the Asian woman had done was very impressive. Just as she thought this the door opened.

Thewoman who had attended her after her bath entered, wearing the same long black cheongsam she wore when she had taken Lucy out of that dingy room. Looking a radiant picture of elegance and class, her face still showed no emotion, her swift entry without knocking tacitly indicating that Lucy no longer had privacy. In her hand she carried a long blue silk garment which glistened in the soft light. Keeping her eyes fixed on Lucy's, she walked swiftly towards her in a seemingly effortless glide, and handed her the garment. Lucy took the soft material eagerly. It had been days since she had been covered and though proud of her body, she longed to recover just a modicum of modesty.

"It is not becoming of a high class whore to be on display all the time," the woman said as Lucy eagerly slipped into the sky blue robe, "Instead she must allude to her treasures, showing just enough flesh to entice and no more."

After Lucy did up the robe, the woman adjusted it. The slightly darker lapels were positioned over her chest to just conceal her pert breasts. The sides were pulled over to exposeLucy's right leg up to the top of the thigh. The shoulders were pulled away to just hung on the girl's athletic body who currently resembled a human mannequin. Looking into the mirror, Lucy met her dresser's gaze but got nothing from the beautiful but cold face staring back. She had barely even noticed she had been called a whore, the derogatory word a small thing compared to what she had already experienced.

"Come," the woman said, turning away abruptly, "there is much still to show you."

"Excuse me," Lucy called rather hoarsely, her screaming still effecting her, "what is your name?"

With an irritated intake of breath, the woman stopped and almost tangibly composed herself.Turning around, she looked at Lucy with such menace that a shiver rippled down her spine. With frightening serenity, the woman walked back, exuding total control. She may have been only an inch taller but she towered over the cowering Lucy who stooped out of fear. Her answer was precise.

"My name," her slightly accented voice speaking slowly and methodically, "is unimportant. As is yours. What you were called before you came here, what you were, is no longer relevant. All that matters now is this. Whatever you did before you must forget. This is your life now. You will be taught to use your body to please your masters and that is all you are to care about. If you do it well, you will be comfortable; if not, you will be severely punished. Now follow me, there is work to do."

Feeling like a told off child, Lucy paused then slinked with bowed shoulders after the woman, outthe door and down the corridor.

As Olivia still mewled, writhed and thrashed around on the table, Greta calmly walked over to Mehmet who was just finishing with Holly. Bound in the same position, the girl had certainly heard Olivia's torture and knew that hers was coming. Greta approached slowly to prolong the agony of suspense. Simply hurting the girls physically was insufficient, both for her business and her sadistic nature. Greta needed to torture every facet of their being until they had nothing left of their old selves. To watch a human go from being proud and defiant to an obedient and compliant husk was her greatest pleasure, and there was something about pretty young girls that made it all the sweeter. Whilst she had seen men the same, Greta enjoyed nothing more than torturing a woman until they thought of nothing else but how to please her. Then Greta could enjoy the results.

As she approached Holly, she noted that despite what she had said to Olivia, the girl was actually far from fully trained. Right now she might respond, when prompted, as Greta expected but it was only to escape further punishment. The bitch did not fully understand her situation or realise that she would continue to be painfully tortured while she had any sense of self; in Greta's experience such a process would take many long highly enjoyable months. Looking at the latex clad body, Greta couldn't help but smile at how pathetic and helpless she looked. Having an arrogant big titted bitch like this so completely at her mercy pleased Greta greatly. To see girls like her walking around as if they owned the place made Greta burn with rage; parading down the street with their ridiculous melons on show, on the covers of magazines and newspapers and all over the internet squeezing them together to form massive cleavages. Every time she got her hands on a decent sized pair, even a pair like Olivia's, Greta felt she was torturing all of them. And it felt so good. With a look, she sent Mehmet into the darkness before bending once again in front of the bound girl's face.

"Now it is fed and watered, is it ready for its punishment?" Greta said cheerfully.

"Yes, mistress," Holly said without delay, her throat no longer as dry and thus her voice less hoarse.

"Good. Does it remember why it is being punished?"

"For cumming, mistress."

"Why is it being punished for cumming?"

"Because...it was told not."

"'This cunt was told not to cum'," Greta said impatiently, "say it!"

"This cunt was told not to cum."

"It must learn how to speak properly or it will be punished again and again," Greta said, looking up to see Mehmet returning from the darkness, "Now, we'll begin."

With that she nodded to Mehmet who carried various apparatus. Holly couldn't see what it wasbut it didn't matter; he didn't want her consent before torturing her. When Mehmet put it on the floor, Holly heard a clunk. The suspense of waiting to see how she would be hurt next was now the norm with the added fear of what had been injected into her breasts nagging her. Although she tried not to rationalise it as some kind of antibiotic to stave off infection or a hormone to stop pregnancy, she couldn't stop feeling something awful was about to happen. It may have been her imagination but her breasts felt ... tingly. Irrespective, she had to focus for she knew that agony would be next.

Reaching around the stocks holding Holly, Greta grabbed one of her hanging breasts, squeezing the sensitive mound of flesh with characteristic roughness but now almost probing as if to discover something hidden within. Seemingly satisfied, Greta gave the tit a habitual punishing slap before repeating the process on her other tortured breast, looking up abstractly to concentrate on what she was doing, her long bony fingers digging into Holly's breast flesh hard as if checking the ripeness of a melon. Giving this breast a harder slap, Greta moved her gloved hands to cup Holly's sweet innocent face, the sting of the spray she had used on Olivia having dissipated.

"They're almost ready," Greta said, knowing her words would only puzzle the girl more, "Mehmet."

Suddenly Holly felt a sharp surge of pain from her pussy. With Greta still firmly cupping her face, she could only muster a muffled wail which didn't lessen the pain. As she teared up, another painful pang shot into her body. Not knowing what caused it terrified her and not being able to see what was being done to her most sensitive feminine area only increased her fear. With her torso strapped onto the wooden block, she couldn't escape Mehmet's actions and her attempts to wriggle away were futile. All she could do was look into the cold unforgiving eyes of her sadistic captor.

Mehmet looked at the girl's pussy that just a few hours ago he had filled with cum. Just remembering her riding his cock, those big tits almost smothering him, made him almost feel her cunt's tight grip around his shaft. It did not look so tight now. She had already taken him twice upher virgin cunt, no mean feat for a cock his size. But hours of the machine battering her pussy had splayed open the delicate flower of her sex. Such was the beauty of young flesh, Mehmet knew the girl's supple labia would soon close with time. But now was not that time. He had attached two large crocodile clips whose teeth brutally bit into the flesh of her sensitive lips. Each clip had a thin rubber coated wire running to two metal boxes the size of a car battery. If Holly had seen it, she would have known what was coming but she could only feel the pain of the biting teeth. With her outer lips now pulled apart, Mehmet ran his finger along her inner pussy, feeling her flinch at his touch. His middle finger scooted up the slit until it brushed the nub of her clit. With a tenderness belying his intentions, he gently massaged it, knowing that despite herself her body would react.

The pain from Holly's crotch began to lessen for the clips attached to her pussy lips reduced the blood supply to her sensitive cunt. All she felt now was a dull ache. Until she felt the finger running along her sex from the bottom to the top where the hood housed her clitoris. The finger was quite sensual, as if it bore no relation to the man who had abused, raped and tortured her. In contrast topast treatment, the light touch was almost pleasurable and if her body were not racked with pain, she would certainly have enjoyed Mehmet's gentle massage of her sensitive clit. As the rubbing continued, Holly closed her eyes and tried to enjoy it, knowing these brief moments of pleasure were few and far between. She had thought this feeling no longer existed for her, the warming tingle spreading from her crotch and eventually filling her entire body. She had felt it many times by her own hand when lying in bed and for just a moment, even with all this suffering, she could picture herself back there. Yet even in this chamber of horrors, Holly could not have imagined how swiftly this pleasure would turn to pain. In a heartbeat the soothing glow at her crotch turned into a cauldron of white hot searing agony as the hands stopped cupping her face, her eyes opened wide and her screams echoed from the stone walls.

Mehmet smirked as the vicious teeth of a tiny crocodile clip bit into the girl's engorged throbbing clit. He had massaged it until it stood proud at the top of her sex, peeking out from beneath its hood with its usual dumb expectancy. He had aroused many women, seeing this very sight often, but it was not until recently that he had used his skill to hurt those he pleasured. Yet he certainly liked it, the scream of the bitch music to his ears. He had not always been this way. Growing up, he had always tried to respect women although of course his good looks had kept him constantly in demand. It was only on coming to Munich, scraping by at that godforsaken bar with drunken bitches crawling all over him that his terse attitude toward them as well as his ability to attract them had first caught the eye of this strange woman. He recalled his first experience at this castle, watching a young woman's beautiful face contorted not in pleasure but in agony. It was a grotesque, stomach churning sight. Yet he could not take his eyes away. He hadn't slept for days after, tossing and turning as the images ran riot through his mind. He had considered going to the authorities to tell them about the terrible things he had seen but in reality he knew things would never be the same. He not only could not forget the girl's beautiful pain filled eyes but wanted to see them repeated. In the tortured scream of this new bitch, he felt he had found his true calling in life.

Holly found no such epiphany but only a screech of anguish as her clitoris was bitten viciously by the clip's biting metal. This new torture surpassed the last, each new pain seemingly designed to eclipse what had gone before. She struggled against this new assault but even as she thrashed around, she knew it was useless. Despite her efforts, the clips biting her flesh were immovable, their grip seeming to tighten with each passing moment. Unable to plea for a mercy she knew would not be given, Holly's hopeless eyes looked into Greta's and the German stared back with little emotion save a flicker of amusement at her captive's pain. It was still alien to Holly how somebody could enjoy another's pain especially an innocent teenager's who had done nothing to them and whose whole life was before them. Something in the woman's life must have twisted her, for she could not believe anybody could be so cruel without deep motive. Then, through the pain, Holly felt another touch at her rear, one now painfully familiar. The pressure at the tight bud of her anus was no clip but warm and throbbing, the unmistakable touch of Mehmet's cock bearing down to sodomise her. She tightened the muscles in her arsehole instinctively, before sense returned. She could not stop her chute being penetrated and trying to do so would result in further torture. Reluctantly and with heavy heart, relaxing as much as she could, Holly submitted to the inevitable.

Mehmet didn't need a second invitation as he pushed his cock steadily inside her tight arse chute. That Hasan had already sodomised the bitch didn't matter to Mehmet. This second hole was as tight as when he had fucked her virgin cunt. As he inched forward, the walls of her hole gripped his dick tightly, increasing its warm embrace. He had already used the girl's flowing juices to liberally lubricate his cock so he had no problem sliding even further inside, his hands grabbing her wide hips as he pulled himself deep into her until he was pressed right up against her hot latex-clad buttocks. With his cock fully inside, he paused, his hands roaming all over her midriff, tantalisingly close to her hanging breasts. He looked at Greta to signal he was right up her and the next stage could begin.

Greta's eyes never left those of the bound girl, only seeing Mehmet's signal peripherally. Her long fingers reached behind Holly and pulled the battery along the ground to better access to its controls. Positioning it just behind the stocks, Greta prepared to deliver more pain to the poor girl. But first she had some choice words.

"Is the cunt's ass tight, Mehmet?" Greta asked, looking directly at Holly but seemingly ignoring her.

"Like a glove," Mehmet replied with a broad smile, "but could be tighter."

"Does it wish to please its master?" Greta asked Holly, the girl taking a moment to realise she was spoken to.

"Yes, mistress," came the reply.

"Then we must make sure its ass fits even better," Greta said, flicking a switch on the battery.

Holly's scream would have woken all Munich were the room not soundproofed. Her entire body went stiff as a fierce current ran through each clip, the effect not of electrocution but sheer pain. Her cunt felt on fire . Each clip carried its own current, searing through the thin but sensitive flesh it bit into. And it had the desired effect, every muscle in her body tensing, the slick walls of her arse chute closing fiercely around Mehmet's shaft inside her, the pressure exerted almost painful. He chuckled as he tried in vain to piston in and out. Then he leant over, his dick still embedded deep within her, until he lay almost flat on her back. It didn't take a genius to guess where his hands were going. Like moths to a flame, his large hands grasped the girl's massive tits, gripping them as tightly as her arse gripped his prick. If Holly could have screamed further she would have but all her screaming was taken up with the pain from the battery which showed no sign of lessening. She could scarcely believe that, despite no torturing attention, her breasts felt even more sensitive. With Mehmet's vice-like grasp gleefully squeezing her tits, his cock plunged deep into her arse and her cunt painfully electrocuted, Holly was in a world of pain. And those around her enjoyed it greatly.

"How is its ass now?" Greta asked as if she were servicing a car, not torturing a human being.

"It grips so tight I cannot fuck," Mehmet said, his smile suggesting he was not unhappy about it.

"Well, we wouldn't want that would we, Tits?" Greta asked, knowing she would get no reply, "it will have to loosen that ass so it can be buggered properly."

As Greta reduced the current, Holly's relief was small but tangible, the fiery pain from her crotch decreasing enough to loosen her arse's tight grip on Mehmet's shaft. Finally able to move, he immediately did so, his hands digging into her tit flesh with renewed vigour, twisting each globe violently in his palms as he pulled his cock out of her arse till only the glans remained inside. Holly realised too late what was about to happen, not that she could have stopped it. Mehmet thrust forward with all his power, shaking the wooden restraints as his thrust slammed into her. Once begun, his toned arse became a blur, slamming back and forth against the firm buttocks of the girl beneath him. Knowing nothing would stop him and with her own desire for pain far from sated, Greta increased the current again, raptly listening with closed eyes to the inevitable scream, a bellowing almost hoarse effort this time as Holly again unintelligibly screeched to the heavens, her body stiff with pain. The current burned through the clips gripping her pussy and Holly, unable to see, had no idea of the damage. For all she knew, her lips and clit were being literally burnt away. Gripped by panic and pain, all she could do was scream, scream as loudly as her lungs allowed.

Greta allowed herself one quick look at Mehmet as he pounded the girl. He was obviously far from finished which allowed more time to enjoy the exquisite sounds of her toy as she screamed. But it could not continue. The girl had suffered greatly and would continue to do so at her hand but she needed time to recover. There was no fun making a girl insane, at least not too quickly. But until Mehmet had spilled his seed inside her, she would not stop torturing the helpless girl for she could never tire of hearing that scream. She looked around the stocks at Mehmet's hands, knowing she would be pleased. They did not disappoint. The bitch deserved the punishment he was inflicting on her huge melons, the German smiled broadly at his rough treatment of those massive tits. It was a glorious sight, one Greta hoped to see again and again while the cunt was still useable.

Mehmet's roared in pleasure at the tight grip of Holly's arse around his throbbing cock. He had not yet sodomised the girls and though it wasn't his only motivation, the unique grip of this tightest of holes was something to be savoured whenever the opportunity presented. Having her resist him only made it more pleasurable, taking her against his will swelling his cock to a size he had never thought possible. Close to release, he yet did not slow his pace to prolong his pleasure but instead continued to plough Holly's battered arse in a complete frenzy. Giving the screaming bitch no respite, he again twisted and pulled her heaving breasts in one final roar of pleasure, plunging deep into her, tugging her hanging tits as he spasmed in climax. His cum shot deep into her bowels, his body twitching while hers was still stiff with pain. As the wave of pleasure receded, he opened his eyes and looked at Greta, both of them smiling. Reluctantly Greta switched off the battery, ending most of the pain burning Holly's crotch. Equally reluctantly, Mehmet released his iron grip on her tits and slid his softening cock from her slick arse chute. Removing the clips biting into her flesh was not easy but he did, first the larger ones clipping her lips and then, with just a little flick of her clit, the last. His cock still dripping with cum, Mehmet stood, gave Holly's arse a last slap and returned into the shadows with the apparatus.

"Its punishment is complete," Greta said, stroking the side of Holly's cheek like a loving owner witha pet, "will it ever disobey its mistress again?"

"No, mistress," Holly said, fighting back tears of shame but equally relieved it was over.

"Good," Greta replied before motioning Mehmet to give her something. Holly had obviously not suffered enough since the German wished to inflict one more punishment. Mehmet gave it but, her head secured, Holly could not tell what it was. She soon knew. Greta held up two familiar items, a thin needle and a golden ring, similar to those Holly had seen when her nipples were pierced.

"Does it remember what these are for?" Greta asked, ignoring Holly's wide eyed surprise and shaking head, "from when it had its big tits pierced?"

"Yes, mistress," Holly just about managed to get out, more tears welling in her round brown eyes.

"Well, since it has such big udders," Greta continued, "it should look more like the cow that it is. Its mistress has decided to put a ring through its nose so it can be dragged around. Does that sound like a good idea, cunt?"

Holly had to agree and accept this latest punishment but she mentally paused, still incredulous at being talked to like this by someone who didn't know her, had no cause to hate her and no cause to torture her. That she seemed largely motivated by Holly's big boobs was even more bizarre. She had never asked for them, indeed quite the opposite. She never flaunted her assets, frequently covering up and wearing baggy clothes to conceal her magnificent pair. When the younger boys in her schoolpeered through the sixth form common room windows to glimpse her tits, they were pissed off to be rewarded with nothing but a tantalising bulge. Indeed Olivia whose tits looked so good on her petite body, showed hers off far more often, giving boys plenty of cleavage to feast their eyes on. From the story of the girl who made the throwaway comment, Holly understood Greta was jealous of girls with bigger tits but that was no reason to torture her. But the consequences would be severe if Holly did not praise her new mistress and so, adopting her obedient slave persona, she did so.

"A very good idea, mistress," Holly said, visibly surprising Greta by responding with more than just her standard 'yes, mistress'.

"Good. Now hold still or this will look very messy and its mistress won't be pleased. And remember, all it must think about now is pleasing its masters."

Pressing the needle against Holly's septum while her other hand gripped Holly's chin hard, Greta was obviously prepared for her to struggle. Closing her eyes as if that would somehow lessen the coming pain, she felt the needle's cold point press against the sensitive area, wincing and gritting her teeth. As the needle pushed through, Holly felt more pain but resolved to give this woman as little pleasure as possible by not showing it. When it pushed all the way through, her nose was very painful but it was less than she had felt before, her previous tortures hardening her to things which previously would have been pure agony. The needle was removed and quickly replaced by the surprisingly heavy ring and Holly was afraid it would tear her septum. But Greta knew what it could take; she would never make such a basic error. She looked at her handiwork. Holly looked fantastic: her black latex face with the nose ring made her look the perfect fuck toy. And that was before her tits and cunt were displayed. Pleased, Greta slapped her face hard and leaned in slightly.

"There we go," she whispered, "its starting to look like a perfect little slave cunt. What does it say?"

"Thank you, mistress," Holly said, the pain in her nose now having lessened.

"Good cunt. Now its time to put Blondie over there to some actual use. Soon you'll both know your place is to please your masters. Mehmet, string it up by its tits. Oh, I want it blindfolded and gagged as well. I don't want to hear its pathetic noises while we play with the other one."

Greta stood, her legs stiff and painful from crouching for so long in front of Holly but she had not shown even a flicker of discomfort. She had to appear totally powerful so these girls knew she was in charge. Her whole persona had to be carefully thought out and executed when she was down here. Of course she was often tempted to get carried away, often made things up on the spot and frequently suffered discomfort, usually from prolonged periods in positions or time spent using the same muscles when whipping or caning a girl. But she never let it show. To Holly and Olivia, she seemed always in control, all powerful and merciless and that was exactly how she wanted it.

As Greta went to Olivia, Mehmet started securing Holly in the desired position. He first decidedto gag and blindfold her so she wouldn't distract Greta from what she was doing to Olivia. Walking to a chest in the cellar shadows, he opened it to reveal a feast of bondage apparatus heaped together like a den of snakes, all black leather and silver buckles, blindfolds, gags and cuffs, corsets, hoods and gloves. Mehmet rummaged briefly, found what he wanted and returned to Holly with a ball gag like the one used when she was first brought into the dungeon, and a leather blindfold with a buckle to tie tightly around her head. Moving behind Holly, he straddled her back and leant over the stocks.

"Open," he commanded and Holly quickly obeyed. She had heard Greta order her 'strung up by her tits' but though terrified by how painful it would be, she could not stop it and obediently opened her mouth to let him slide the rigid plastic ball in. Tugging her head hard back against the wooden board, he fixed the gag by tightening the buckle below her ponytail, repeating the process with the leather blindfold. Finished, Mehmet looked at the girl's face. Bending in front of her as Greta had done, he looked at the almost completely masked face of the thing in front of him. It was less of a sight without those big brown helpless eyes but with her face covered in black rubber and leather, he enjoyed seeing the girl dressed as the archetypal gimp. He had little time to admire her, though, for he knew Greta would be displeased if he didn't work fast so he stood up and continued.

Although he knew she wouldn't resist even if free, he took no chances, deciding to secure her partly in her new bondage before removing the current one. Going to a control box in the corner, Mehmet pushed a few buttons, causing a motor to whir somewhere and a bar suspended by two chains to slowly inch from the ceiling until it was level with his chest, just above the stocked Holly. Bending down, he picked up some white rope as thick as his thumb and, with a skill that some sail-ship navy would have appreciated, tied the rope around the bar, leaving a long trailing section which he brought over to Holly. With a brusque disregard, he sat on her back, pushing her hard onto the wooden block supporting her lower body. Working with customary speed, Mehmet passed the rope under Holly's torso, just below her breasts and pulled it tight, lifting her up towards him. Still pulling the rope taut, Mehmet made two nooses with plenty of length at the end and brought the rope back round and under Holly again. Lining up the nooses with each of Holly's giant breasts and wrapping the free length of the rope round his arm to keep the rope tensioned, he used his free hand to work her left tit into the noose, sliding it down to the base of her fleshy mound till it just gripped her breast. He then repeated the process on her other tit, the rope only lightly constricting each breast. That would soon change though. With the rope still wrapped around his arm, he brought both hands down and slowly tightened the noose at the base of her left breast, leaning slightly to the side and watching as the rope tightened around her tit. At first there was no noticeable change but as the rope tightened and cut off the blood flow, her breast began to swell and change colour. Continuing to tighten the noose, Mehmet watched with brooding delight as Holly's massive tit turned from the pale tan of her natural complexion to an angry red as the blood pooled in her distended breast. Repeating the process with her right tit, he listened with glee to the gagged girl's muffled whimpers as the pain of her tightly constricted breasts began to bite. Although her bulbous swollen tits could have been bound tighter, Mehmet knew she would be in some pain. As she was supposed to be.

Having tied her to the bar she would soon be suspended from, Mehmet now released her from her previous bondage, undoing the tight leather strap tying her to the wooden block. Although Holly felt her lower body free, she knew the futility of struggle and remained motionless as Mehmet walked round the stocks holding her neck and wrists. Flipping a few catches holding the two halves of wood in place, he lifted the top away, freeing Holly's neck and arms. Fairly sure she wouldn't try anything, he disappeared briefly and returned with some large zip ties, tying Holly's wrists tightly behind her back with characteristic roughness, and using the second zip to tie her elbows together, causing her back to bend slightly and thrusting out her swollen tits. Finally he removed the wooden block holding up her lower body, causing her crotch to collapse to the floor and almost throttling her on the stocks. Everything secure, Mehmet moved to the control panel and began winching up the bar.

Mehmet could not see Holly's face as the latex covered it but he knew it would be contorting in pain as the winch slowly pulled the bar into the air. The first thing she felt was the slight tug as the rope went taut above her and tightened around her torso, slowly but inexorably pulling her up. Worried by the unknown that lay in store for her, Holly fought to stay in her current position. It was no use and soon her neck was pulled from the stock's head-groove. With her hands bound behind her, Holly could not stop rising and though she wriggled from side to side, the rope around her body tightened, heaving her up toward the ceiling. Her toes still touched the ground but each time she was pulled up her binding tightened, both around her torso and the base of her breasts. Mehmet winched the bar up until her dainty latex clad toes just left the ground and stopped to inspect the suspended girl. Hanging from the ceiling like a piece of meat, her slender toned legs wriggled frantically, much to his amusement. But what was really eye-catching were Holly's bulging melons. Although her entire weight wasn't supported by her bound globes, the ropes exerted plenty of pressure, tightening them into an angry red bulge of blood trapped in her spectacular mounds, hertiny bright nipple piercings standing out against the dark swollen flesh. She dangled helplessly from the ceiling, her legs and body twitching slightly, as Mehmet looked her up and down. What a pathetic little bitch she was, he thought; strung up, blindfolded, gagged, bruised, pierced. He moved closer and stroked her rubbery flank, her body hot to the touch. As he looked at the girl, dressed head to toe like a gimp in a fetish club, he knew her ordeal would not get any easier; far from it. During all this, Greta had approached Olivia and the patiently waiting Hasan.

"Hello again, baby," Greta said warmly as her hand grasped Olivia's tit, "let's see how that new tongue is doing."

With her mouth forced open by the ring gag, Greta easily reached in to pull out the writhing flesh of Olivia's tongue to inspect both its length and how it was healing. Greta smiled at her handiwork. She had lengthened it enough to enhance the pleasure it would give as it lapped Greta's pussy but not so much that the girl couldn't talk or that it would flop out of her mouth. And the cut was so clean it had almost healed. But not quite and Greta didn't want to risk reopening the wound. A minor inconvenience but good things come to those who wait. Still, things hadn't gone entirely to plan and Greta considered what additional torture to inflict on her in the meantime. Though she had suffered much pain, Greta knew she had been let off lightly compared to her big titted friend. Her mind cycled through all the toys at her disposal, one being the strapping man with the huge cock.

"That's coming along very nicely indeed," Greta said, taking her fingers out of Olivia's mouth whilethe other still squeezed her tit's soft flesh, "soon you'll be able to lick pussy like a pro. First though Hasan here hasn't had a chance to fuck you, which is hardly fair is it? And your pretty little ass hasn't been fucked yet. We wouldn't want you to miss out on what your friends have had, would we?"

Without needing to be told exactly what Greta intended, Hasan moved enthusiastically, spurred on by knowing he would soon have his cock buried deep in the girl's arse. But after undoing the strap holding her right leg in place, momentarily freeing her, Olivia showed she still had plenty of fight in her by kicking out violently. Its force surprised Hasan. Greta stood back and chuckled as Hasan wrestled with her bucking leg, using both muscular arms just to hold it. As much as she enjoyed the fight Olivia showed as it made breaking her all the more enjoyable, Greta couldn't let the little bitch fight too long for there was still much to do. So while Hasan struggled to control her, Greta disappeared into the shadows for something Olivia was already familiar with. Focussed on throwing Hasan's grip off her leg, Olivia didn't realise what Greta was doing until too late. When the twin prongs of the cattle prod pressed firmly against the babe's nipple, Greta waited just a moment for Olivia's eyes to open as she worked out what was about to happen before squeezing the trigger.

As a jolt of electricity coursed through the cattle rod and into the sensitive tit flesh, a piercing squeal filled the room, Olivia's entire body jumping as all her muscles contracted at once. Her leg straightened so quickly Hasan didn't anticipate it, catching him squarely in the jaw and almost knocking him off his feet. Greta couldn't stop laughing, the combination of the shuddering body and Hasan holding his face after being hurt by an otherwise helpless girl. It was even funnier knowing that Hasan was humiliated and would now be especially cruel to Olivia even though it was completely involuntary. Although a momentary loss of face, an admission that she was indeed human, she found the suffering of this feisty little bitch amusing. So while Hasan composed himself and spat out the blood, Greta leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"Stop your struggling, little cunt," she said with a small smirk, "you exist to please us now. If your master wants to move your legs you will let him. You will let him do whatever he wants to you and you will be grateful for it. And because you've been such a naughty little whore and attacked him, you're going to have be punished especially harshly. Fucking bitch."

So saying, Greta stood and with all the drama of a religious ritual, held the cattle prod vertically above Olivia, placing it once more against her nipple as if plunging a knife into her breast. Looking into her eyes, Greta drank up their fear and pain and pulled the trigger. Again the girl spasmed, the unbound leg again violently kicking out. When her spasms calmed, Hasan walked back to her, his face a picture of anger and lust, and grabbed her leg. With her now limp limb over his shoulder, hebent it back until he met serious resistance, Olivia's limber and athletic body struggling to take the strain. Wanting to revengefully hurt her, Hasan continued pushing and Olivia squealed in pain as he forced her foot to touch the table by her ear. He could tell from her contorted face how extreme the pain was but after what she had done to him she deserved everything she got. Leaning on the leg with his body, Hasan reached down and grabbed another leather restraint at the side of the table. Still holding her leg back with his body, he tied it into its new position before stepping back to look. The pain from her stretched groin must have been agony as her inarticulate mewling, scrunched up eyes and tears showed. Hasan made her torment even worse by fingering her widely splayed pussy up and down. Olivia involuntarily flinched at his touch, making the pain worse, her obscenely spread legs causing so much agony she was almost certain he had caused irreparable damage.

"What a pretty pink pussy that is," Greta said, putting the cattle prod on the table and extending her own bony digits to touch Olivia's cunt, "you look so inviting spread like that, slut. Sadly Hasan won't be able to ram his cock deep into your ass if you're like that."

Olivia was in so much pain she couldn't take in her tormentor's taunting patronising words. Luckilyher current position was not permanent since keeping her like this for long would damage the little plaything more than Greta wanted. So though she enjoyed that pained face and that gorgeous body contorted in pain, she had to allow it a more endurable position. Looking at Hasan, she nodded him to continue. Reluctantly he tore himself away from inserting his finger into Olivia's snatch and moved round the table. Knowing she would be too scared to fight again, he had no problem undoing her other leg. The pressure on her groin meant that when her leg was released, Olivia voluntarily raised it, doing part of Hasan's job for him. He duly did the rest, bending her leg up and securing it at the other end of the table. Olivia's lower body had been bent upwards, thrusting her pert arse into the air. With her legs still spread wide, her cheeksparted enough to reveal the puckered ring of her virgin arsehole. Stripping off his shorts to reveal his huge throbbing erection, a small drop of precum at the end of his glans, Hasan quickly clamberedonto the table, obsessed with feeling the grip of her arse chute around his cock. Standing on the wooden table, he reached forward and ran his hands over Olivia's arse, admiring the toned tightness of this little bitch's bottom.

Before being employed by Greta, he had not much of a taste for these petite girls, preferring Lucy's sort of elegant beauty. This was why while Mehmet had been chatting to other girls, he had seen the raven haired temptress first, her high cheekbones and arrogant demeanour attracting him like a moth to a flame. Had he not been there to identify and capture potential victims, he would have tried hard to seduce and fuck her. He had been lucky that the object of his lust was part of the group they had kidnapped, for though the other two girls had fit the bill perfectly, Lucy was not the kind they usually targeted, being too self-assured, confident and street smart. But she too had been duped, drugged and defiled like the other two. Hasan's luck had got even better when she had been chosen to go upstairs. It had been a long time since a girl they had 'recruited' had been sent there but then Lucy was special. Whenever he had used the goods up there, he had only seen women who had been raised in third world hovels, never a wealthy English girl. They were treated differently up there, meaning she would not be as broken as the other two bitches and he could still enjoy the pleasure of fucking a woman as enthusiastic about sex as he. But he had come to appreciate the charms of a girl like this, the cutesy girl next door look so adored in the West. He particularly enjoyed how quickly they submitted so meekly to his will, enjoying how much more powerful he was than them and how sexually inexperienced and therefore pleasurable their bodies were. That this bitch showed more fight and was more used than some other girls was irrelevant. He had a cute little blonde's virgin arsehole to sink his cock into, a prize which any man would pay a lot of money for. With his hands on her hips and squatting slightly, he lined his dripping prick up to the inviting rosebud spread before him. He knew it would be painfully tight to begin with and he momentarily thought about rubbing the girl's pussy to get her juices flowing, so as to lubricate her arse and his cock but thought better of it. As much as it might hurt him for the first few strokes, it would hurt her much more and that knowledge would help overcome his own pain. He spat on his hand and rubbed his cock just enough to actually get inside her then looked up, waiting for his cue to start.

The German knew Hasan wanted to get started and she didn't blame him; indeed she too was growing impatient at being unable to use her new toy properly. But she made him wait for two reasons. One was her overwhelming desire for control. Though working with her employees, she didn't want them using too much initiative or doing things without her explicit consent. She had been doing this far too well for far too long to allow some upstart immigrant to dictate what was done to her slaves and when. The other reason was that she hadn't decided what else to do to Olivia. Having Hasan sodomise her would be extremely painful and humiliating but at this stage of the process she needed something more. She had not planned for this, hoping instead Olivia's tongue would be healed and could be used for its intended purpose, and the feeling of not having everything under complete control frustrated her immensely. She tried not to show it lest the two Turks see her as anything other than the calm and collected persona she tried so hard to project. Her practised stride masking her inner frustration, Greta stalked the darkened edges in the room, searching for inspiration. Her dungeon was lit so that those in the middle, her victims, couldn't see beyond but there was sufficient light once beyond the bright glare to see a glorious and terrifying sight. Along the walls were racks of torture devices; whips, crops, manacles, cuffs, dildos, etc. Anything one could imagine in a dungeon was there, mounted along the wall or in boxes on the floor. Greta searched through her mind for the ideal device to inflict the requisite level of pain or humiliation on the poor bound girl. As she looked at the various items, she had flashbacks to each time she had used them on some slut, their faces twisting in agony as they endured Greta's wrath.

Hasan ran his cock head along the cleft of Olivia's cheeks, her puckered hole just begging him to force his massive prick inside her. His dick twitched in anticipation and it was all he could do not to ram himself into the pretty little bitch. Greta really was taking the piss, making him hover over the girl without being able to penetrate while she chose some implement of torture. In truth he didn't care if Greta was hurting Olivia, all he wanted was to feel the tight grip of her arsehole around his cock as soon as possible. But it was all part of Greta's routine, to show her total control of both him and the girl. It was a transparent ploy and while it might strike fear into the pathetic girls they bought in here, it didn't effect him or Mehmet. Yet he owed the woman who owned this place a great debt, given the unholy enjoyment he got out of her generosity. So though frustrating to have such a tight hole in front of him and be unable to plough it, the price was worth paying.

Greta could sense the frustration radiating from the table but it didn't perturb her as she searched for the perfect accompaniment to Hasan's buggering of Olivia. Although Olivia's new tongue couldn't pleasure Greta, seeing her slave's pain filled eyes would give her plenty of joy. And now she knewwhat would be perfect for the spoilt little bitch. A corner cupboard had exactly what she needed and Greta now relaxed; with a plan, she was back in control. With her trademark purposed stride, the leather clad woman opened the cupboard, revealing inside a large candle, a small glass vial of oil, matches and a small metal pan. Impatient to begin, Greta took the matches and lit the candle.

In the central bright light, Olivia did not know what Greta was up to in the corner. When the lights suddenly went out, Olivia panicked, oblivious to the fact Greta had merely turned the lights off. In her heightened state of fear, she suddenly felt as if these awful people had blinded her. She would put nothing past these monsters given how they had already treated her and her friends. But then she saw a faint light edging its way towards her, flickering like a flame and sending shadows onto the ceiling above her. Still terrified, Olivia shuddered as she felt a thud near her head, closing her eyes for some small relief from what was about to happen. She didn't dare to open them, knowing from her position, the touch of Hasan's hands on her hips and the tip of his dick resting against her virgin hole that she was about to be fucked in her arse and with Greta back that this would be accompanied by some heinous torture.Her ordeal was about to start.

"You may begin, Hasan," Greta said, her eyes intent on the terrified girl's face, "start slowly."

Hasan didn't need a second invitation. Greta scarcely finished talking before he pushed the tip of his cock hard against Olivia's sphincter. Unsurprisingly he met with much resistance; this one had plenty of fight in her. But Hasan wasn't going to lose a battle with a little cunt like this. Continuing to push forward with his cock, he used his body weight to increase the pressure on her arsehole. With his right hand, he stroked along the outside of her thigh and cheek, before bringing it down hard with a sickening slap which echoed around the room. He smiled as his large hand once again struck her powerfully on the rump, knowing from her high pitched yelp that it caused a great deal of pain. He slapped her another three times with his right hand and twice with his left, all the while pressing forcefully with his cock. As his left hand came down again, he heard another sound and looked up to see Greta's hand resting against Olivia's already reddening cheek.

"Let him into your ass, Blondie," Greta whispered almost tenderly into Olivia's ear, "remember you exist only to please. Your master wants to fuck your virgin ass and you don't have a choice. So can you relax for your master, baby? Or if you prefer you can do it for me, your mistress?"

Behind Olivia's closed eyes, tears welled and dripped down her face. What had she done to deserve this? She had always tried to be good, to treat people as she would like to be treated, even people she didn't particularly like. She had even been civil to that creepy guy in the year below who had sent her those obscene pictures. She rarely said a bad word about anybody and yet here she was, strapped to a table about to be anally raped while a sadistic woman prepared to torture her. Though she had only been here for what she guessed was a few days yet it felt like a lifetime, her life before the dungeon just a mirage. And as if being at the mercy of these three here wasn't bad enough, Greta's patronising and faux loving tone made it worse, only reminding her of her helplesssituation. Talking to her as if she were a child, a pet or even someone complicit in this whole thing made Olivia feel less than human. Determined to resist as much as possible yet she would gain nothing now, only yet more pain and torture. So despite herself and with an almost overwhelming sense of shame, Olivia relaxed her rectum and reluctantly allowed Hasan inside her.

It wasn't much but that momentary relaxation of Olivia's sphincter was enough for the tip of Hasan's cock to slip past the tight ring of muscles and into her hot and inviting chute. Almost immediately, Olivia reflexively clenched around his cock as if it were possible to force it out but it was too late. This small incursion inside her would soon expand under his inexorable pressure. But it was so tight he half questioned whether he would even fit, though of course it wouldn't be for a lack of trying. Readjusting his feet on the table to get a better position, he then gripped underneath her legs and tried to force himself inside her. Pulling up with his arms and using his legs to push his body into her, he began to move like a slow glacier further inside her. Olivia moaned as the massive invader painfully stretched her taut hole far beyond any constipation she had ever felt. It was painful for him too as with no lube, her dry walls caused a great deal of painful friction but it was worth it to feel the tightness and for him at least the pain would soon give way to pleasure. With his unstoppable entry already begun, Greta decided to have some fun.

"There's a good girl," Greta once again whispered, "don't pretend you're not enjoying it, you little whore. Don't fight it; just enjoy pleasing your master. Now open your eyes." The last sentence was punctuated by another firm slap on Olivia's cheek as Greta's other hand reached round and squeezed a breast. Reluctantly, tears streaming down her face, Olivia opened her eyes. As she blinked away tears, she looked up at the man forcing his cock into her arse. In the candle's flickering light he looked terrifying, his face contorted into a twisted snarl of lust. Above her, Greta looked down with no emotion, not reacting at all as both of them intermittently groaned in pain and, in Hasan's case, pleasure. She didn't take her eyes off Olivia's pretty face as Hasan, taking almost three minutes, finally buried himself to the hilt in Olivia's arse. He savoured it for a moment, not movingbut just relishing the firm warm grip of her arse chute on his throbbing shaft.Greta once again leaned in, her sharp features made all the more intimidating by the flickering light.

"Now, girl," Greta said, her hand leaving Olivia's breast and grasping the vial of oil she had brought over to the table, "you're pleasuring your master nicely but you're doing nothing for your mistress. You don't want that, do you? And what does your mistress enjoy most of all?" Greta left a long pause, as if expecting Olivia to answer. While waiting, she poured a small amount of the oil into a metal pan and held it above the candle. "What pleases me most is watching my toys in pain. And considering you live to please me, you'll enjoy the pain, won't you, slut?"

Olivia had known some kind of torture was coming so Greta's words didn't shock her. Indeed herarsehole was so painful she could barely concentrate on anything else. Given the tears and the pain of Hasan slowly pulling his cock out of her bum then plunging back in, Olivia couldn't think about what Greta intended. So she didn't notice Greta heating a small pan of oil just inches from her face. She had been told to keep her eyes open and did, watching Hasan pull out his dick until just the tip was inside her and pushing forward again to her accompanying yelp, then repeating the action, each time forcing himself inside quicker and deeper. And now Olivia heard the sizzling near her ear. Her eyes flitted across to see the candle with the pan hovering just above it just in time to see Greta take up the sizzling metal plate and hold it directly above her chest.

"I can assure you this will hurt, baby," Greta said patronisingly, "but it won't leave any lasting damage. We wouldn't want to ruin that beautiful skin just yet, would we?" With that, she smiled at Olivia and tipped up the plate.

When the oil touched Olivia's soft skin, her scream rang out around the room. Partly anticipatingthe pain and from the pain itself, Olivia wailed loudly, her eyes scrunched up as if to block the searing heat. Her breast felt as if it had been set on fire, demoralising her with the feeling ofbeing forever horribly scarred by burns. She was caught in a maelstrom of pain, the agonising penetration of her anus combining with this boiling assault on her tit. Which Greta turned into a perfect shitstorm by covering both breasts in the burning oil, turning them an angry red where it touched but causing no lasting damage. Olivia didn't know that. All her existence had become a sharp burning pain in a burning ocean of friction as Hasan quickened his strokes against her anal ring.

As Greta prepared to torture her upper body, Hasan's progress into her had become easier. A combination of his precum and her walls loosening slightly allowed him to now thrust further into her tight hole. He did just that, his hands tightening their grip on her hips as he leant over to get the best possible angle. Fucking almost vertically now, Hasan sped up even more, the vice like grip of her virgin walls sending him wild with desire and pleasure. Olivia's scream as the oil hit her tit was a further aphrodisiac, as was the sheen it gave her perky chest as Greta rubbed it over bothbreasts.

"Lovely screaming," Greta said, both hands pawing Olivia's glistening mounds, "now let's get these tits nice and oiled before I pour some more on. And I want you to scream just as you did before. Can you do that for me, sweetie?"

Olivia was far too distracted to hear Greta's words. Even if she had, she could not have answered the demeaning question for the pain she now felt blocked all thought. When Greta's hands stopped roaming over her breasts, Olivia knew exactly where they were going and tried to mentally prepare for what was coming. This time Greta hid nothing from her victim, pouring the oil onto the plate right in front of her. As much as she did not want to see, Olivia knew Greta wanted her to and it would be prudent not to anger the hovering monster. As she moved the plate over the candle, Greta put the vial down and with her free hand traced one of Olivia's wet nipples with a long finger. A few minutes passed while Hasan pounded in and out of Olivia until Greta heard the oil sizzling and moved it away from the flame. She closed her eyes to savour the next phase, waiting some time before once again dribbling the oil down. With a twisted smile, she gleefully listened to the tortured scream beneath her. She could listen to such screams till her dying day especially when she caused them. As the wailing turned to whimpering, Greta looked up to see Hasan nearing his climax.

Olivia's last scream sent Hasan almost over the edge. As the pain hit, she clenched every muscle in her body, the walls of her arse chute gripping him so tightly it almost hurt. Pulling up on her legs andpainfully arching her back even more, he buried every last millimetre of himself in her hole. Looking down at the shimmering reddened globes bouncing lightly on her chest, he couldn't hold back. With an inarticulate roar, Hasan shook with pleasure, his prick shuddering and filling her bowels with a huge load of cum, his cock continuing to twitch inside her, each time squirting a thick wad of spunk deep into her tight rectum. Even as he softened, he enjoyed the friction heat of her arse around his dick. As the last spasms ended, he looked guiltily at Greta, detecting her annoyance at his finishing so soon. It was soon gone and Hasan hoped she would realise that Olivia's arse was so tight he had lasted as long as he could. Greta beckoned him forward with a slight nod and Hasan slid his cock out of Olivia's now slick arsehole with some reluctance and waddled, his legs either side of the girl,toward her head, a trail of white and flecks of red sliming her midriff. As he knelt across her chest, Greta placed her hands either side of Olivia's head and leaned in once again.

"Sorry your ass fucking is over?" Greta whispered menacingly, "I know whores like you love that. Now it's time to clean your master and to use that brand new tongue of yours. Don't worry though, it'll be easy. All you need to do is stick it out and let your master clean himself."

Olivia didn't have time to do anything for when Greta finished, Hasan leaned forward and dangled his limp cock in her wide open-gagged mouth. Immediately she tasted his salty cum as the tip of his dick slid along her tongue, recoiling in part because of the taste and in part because she knew where it had been, trying to keep her tongue from Hasan's prick as much as she could. But both the pain her tongue gave her and her bonds meant she couldn't.

"Stick out your tongue, bitch," Greta screamed and slammed the table, "or I'll cut it out!"

With no choice, Olivia stuck out her tongue. It hurt but she could handle it and it was certainly preferable to whatever they would do if she didn't obey. So she stuck it out - and discovered what Greta's little operation had done. Opening her eyes for the first time since Hasan had come out of her arse, she was saw his dick dangling down to her mouth like an elephant's trunk. At the back she could see her tongue snaking up, long enough to touch the base of his dick. It had been lengthened, not obscenely but enough to be noticeably different for the rest of her life. Yet more tears filled her eyes as he wiped his cock up and down her tongue.

Hasan groaned at the soft touch of the bitch's mouth on his prick, the sweet sensation making it twitch despite having just blown his load. He shuffled forward to bring his cock directly above her face then leant back and supported himself on her chest. As he moved his crotch up and down to clean his dick, his hands squeezed her slippery tits, knowing it would hurt. She couldn't do much with her tongue yet so he moved his cock around, making sure to rub the grime off every inch. Now clean, he looked at Greta who nodded, indicating his work was done. Slowly he released his grip on her tits and levered himself off the table to the floor. When he had, Greta once again leant over Olivia's face, the candle in her hand just centimetres from the girl's head.

"You did well, whore, " she said, turning the candle round in her hand, "soon you'll graduate to pleasuring your mistress like a proper cumslut. Now I'm going to leave you here to heal some more. That hanging piece of fuckmeat doesn't need any light, it doesn't deserve to see. But you're a good girl so I wouldn't want to leave you in the dark. Only problem is, if I leave the candle on the table,the wax will drip and ruin it. So we'll have to find somewhere else to put it." As she said this, Greta's finger ran up her leg, across her cheeks and into her arsehole. Olivia knew immediately where it was going and briefly struggled, stopping in exhausted futility. Greta handed the candle to Hasan who began shaving the bottom into a cone with a knife while ensuring that Olivia saw what he was doing.

"Here's an idea!" Greta exclaimed with faux excitement, "we can use your newly popped ass as a little candle holder. You'd like that wouldn't, you slut, having your ass stuffed with something nice and big?" With that Hasan took the candle, its flame still flickering, and gleefully worked it into Olivia's still weakened arse. The tapering made it easy and he was buoyed by her mewling as he jammed the candle butt into her gaping hole. Hasan took a step back to admire his handiwork and Greta, still hovering over Olivia's face, looked over to see the candle jutting up out of the girl's arse.

"My, my, you look so beautiful. You really are a good little girl, aren't you? A perfect cumslut and now a perfect human candle holder. That red wax will drip over your pretty pink cunt, making it look lovely. Now you must rest for a bit but I'll be back and we can put you to work. Sweet dreams."After kissing Olivia's forehead, the three sadists left. Behind them, a lonely figure, blind to the candle, occasionally kicked and twisted in the air like some cocooned prey in a spider's web and another lonely figure could only see between her legs as the large candle got lower and lower, its hot wax overflowing onto her shaved cunt and making her buck fitfully at the burning pain. And when the candle flame guttered out, there were only two blind girls mewling in the dark .

By the sixth bar, Hanneman felt like giving up. It was well past 2am and he could barely think straight, his head spinning from booze. Looking behind the bar, he could see the staff preparing to clear up as the night wound down. This would be his last attempt for the evening and he had littleoptimism about the results. Like all the other establishments, he went up to the bar and asked the staff if they had seen the girls. A combination of the time and his dishevelled appearance meant the answers he received were unsurprisingly short and impatient, causing his despondency to grow. He put the girl's photos back in his folder, the area he'd hoped would be full of clues depressingly bare. Just as he was about to leave the bar for home, a lone man propping up the bar caught his attention.

"Looking for those three English bitches?" he slurred, looking even less presentable than Hanneman.

"The kidnapped girls yes," Hanneman replied, slightly put out by how he'd referred to them, "do you know anything?"

"Set of stuck up cunts they looked," he continued, "gorgeous though. I wouldn't have minded playing with them for a while if you know what I mean?"

"Did you see them the night they disappeared?" the detective asked, his interest captured by the drunken man's apparent knowledge of his targets.

"Oh I saw them, sat in that booth over there. They were sat with two Turkish lads, all three of them really drunk. Can't handle their drink, can they, the English."

"Turkish men?" Hanneman continued to press, getting excited that he might finally have a lead.

"Yeah," the old man slurred, a booze filled hiccup erupting as he spoke, "brown anyway, looked like Arabs. Those sluts were all over them, got drunk so fast. One minute they were just sitting there teasing, the next they were being carried out."

"The Turkish guys carried them out?"

"Oh yeah, about to fuck their brains out I should think. One little one, tell you what..."

"Did you see where they went?" Hanneman interrupted, not wanting to hear what the old pervert wanted to do to the girls.

"Afraid not, they just carried the whores outside. I've seen one of the guys in here quite a lot. Come to think of it, I'm sure I've seen him working here before."

Hanneman turned to the barmaid with a quizzical look that asked if she knew anything about it. But the woman was in no mood to help. It wasn't that she didn't care about the girls, indeed quite the opposite. When she had heard that three pretty 18 year olds were missing, she had shuddered at what they would now being going through, knowing there was only one reason somebody would take girls like that. Nor was she reluctant to talk to him in fear that the man who had taken them did indeed work at the bar. She was just a student working in a bar to pay her way through university, owing no allegiance to the establishment. The only reason she wasn't beinghelpful was that as the bar was closing, she had no time for the ramblings of two drunk middle aged perverts. That one had a police badge made no difference for she saw her fair share of washed up cops drowning their sorrows. Instead she looked with pity at the detective and rang the bell behind the bar.

"Time!" she shouted and watched the last patrons stumble toward the door. Hanneman stood for a moment. He was close, he knew, but his only lead was a drunken old man who didn't seem to careabout the girls he was seeking and if he was to find who was behind this and rescue his career he had to get as much information from him as he could. So as the man struggled to his feet Hanneman did the same, trying to look in control despite the amount he'd drunk. Both men staggered to the door, the barmaid sweeping up behind them, virtually pushing them out. Stumbling out of the bar Hanneman looked at the man as he swayed from side to side.

"I'd love to pick your brains if that's ok?" Hanneman asked, although he wasn't sure if the man had heard as he stood staring down the street.

"I gotta get home now," the drink addled man replied, "But I'll be here tomorrow, same time. You can buy me drinks all night and I'll tell you everything I saw that night."

"You've got a deal," Hanneman said, both men then leaving in opposite directions. He walked with a spring in his step or at least thought he did, the drink making him stumble along the pavement. But he had a lead! Which he couldn't go back to the station with; the word of some drunken old man was hardly enough to revive his career. But it was a start. If he could just get more information, identify who these Turks were and follow that up then maybe, just maybe, he might break this case and give his sorry excuse for a life a modicum of meaning.

Having bathed and allowed to rest, Lucy no longer struggled behind her guide but strode, if a little sheepishly, in her wake. Being reminded of her situation after merely asking the woman's name was a blow. Her horrible memories of the dungeon and even the horrors her friends were still enduring had dimmed. She had been brought back to earth with a bump, so despite being refreshed and rested she was emotionally drained. And the corridor seemed to stretch on forever which made herwonder just how big this complex was or even where it was. The more she saw, the more sophisticated it became and her hope of escape corresponding shrank. Shaking her head to banish that thought, she tried to focus on looking straight ahead at the barely lit corridor.

Reaching a door, the woman pressed a part of the wall and the door slowly opened. Wordlessly Lucy entered, her guide following, the door closing slowly behind. On a click, the room lit up and the far wall suddenly became transparent, revealing a sight which shocked and appalled her.

The wall was obviously a one way mirror for the people didn't react to the lights coming on. Even if they could have, they were likely too distracted to notice. Lucy stared open mouthed. On one side was a woman wearing the same robe as Lucy with some differences. Her robe was a bright blood red, open all the way down, with a black-trimmed red corset tied very tightly around her stomach. Her large breasts were very obviously fake, standing up off her chest like two beach balls, the nipples impossibly erect. She wore long red leather thigh boots, widening at the top and reaching to just below a thick bush of black hair obscuring her pussy. She looked in her late thirties with a slender build, although her vampish makeup made it hard to tell. Three things struck Lucy immediately. One was how pale she was, her blue veins clearly visible in the room's dim light. The second was her shock of bright orange hair, clearly not her natural colour but so vibrant it was almost blinding. The third and by far the most striking thing, was the two metre long bamboo shaft she held.

Opposite her was a figure equally frightening, a man holding an identical bamboo shaft whose entire body was covered in tattoos. Only his head and hands were not inked. Even his erect cock had a grotesque artwork of a spear whose end dripped blood, tattooed even onto his foreskin. Disgusting and shocking images adorned his body including a terrifying image on his stomach which Lucy assumed was the devil that roiled and twisted with every move the man made. His clothing was as bizarre as the woman's. Two studded leather straps criss-crossed his chest with small rings around his pierced nipples. The two straps connected to a leather jock strap running around his waist with a small loop pulled so tight around his scrotum that it was swollen purple. He wore a thick leather choker studded with metal around his neck. In contrast to the woman's stony expression, a twisted grin contorted his face, his forked tongue sticking out and dancing with delight. Lucy physically gasped when she saw him; even through the glass the man terrified her.

Such was the man's grotesque nature that Lucy did not immediately see the room's third person.Once seen, her heart sank. Two thick brown ropes hung from the ceiling, suspending a girl by one leg and one arm. Her face was misery incarnate, so streaked with tears and contorted in agony that Lucy could not clearly see her features. But she could see her battered body, her richly tanned skin covered in long red welts, no doubt the work of those vicious bamboo staves. Barely an inch wasn't marked, evidence of a sustained barrage of sadistic blows. Her crotch in particular was red, her labia having turned from a deep brown to a vivid throbbing red. Although her breasts hung horizontally across her chest due to how she was suspended, they were clearly large and pert, indicating a girl in her late teens or early twenties. But countless stripes also covered them. A thin rivulet of blood flowed down the girl's suspended leg, her attempts to escape the scything blows obviously causing the ropes binding her to chafe her skin painfully. It was a scene out of an extreme BDSM porn film but Lucy knew that these were no actors and the suspended girl had given no consent.

As Lucy looked on, the action continued. Behind the girl, the man raised the stick and then, with an animalistic roar, eyes wide and mouth contorted into a grotesque smile, cracked the thick cylinder of bamboo squarely between the girl's throbbing pussy lips. A banshee like wail filled Lucy's ears and completely drowned the sound of the blow and the man's cackling laughter. As the scream died, the woman in front of the girl raised her staff and smashed it onto her stomach. The blow's force made the girl jerk in her bonds and give another spine tingling scream, bringing a small smile to the face of the scarlet clad woman. As the man raised his staff again, Lucy turned to the woman behind her.

"Please," Lucy pleaded with a tear in her eye," don't make me watch."

"You must watch," the woman replied, completely unmoved by the brutal beating, "for soon that will be you."

Lucy's eyes opened wide. She couldn't believe what she had just been told. The woman had said she had been chosen, that she wouldn't be tortured of raped by men or women; now she was being told otherwise. If she was beaten like the girl in the chamber, Lucy was sure she would either die or go insane. Nothing she had endured at the hands of those sadists in the dungeon had been as bad as what she saw now. With her eyes still pleading, Lucy began to beg.

"No, please, you can't let them do it!I can't take that! Please I'll do anything! Please..."

"Quiet!" The woman snapped, visibly irritated at Lucy's pleas, "You will do what you are told. I said it would be job to please your masters. Your masters do not just want you to fuck. They can fuck any of the cheap whores in here as easy as they like. They want you to fuck them. You will learn how to truly please a man or woman with your body. But your masters will want more than that which iswhy you have been chosen. You already showed you can do it when beat your friend. Soon you will be aiding your masters when they torture girls. Soon you will enjoy it. Just like her."

Lucy looked back to the chamber as another blow hit the girl's back. She had got it wrong. She was not intended to be the girl suspended from the ceiling. Instead she looked at the woman in red, laughing at the tanned girl's agonised screeches. She couldn't believe the evil woman so savagely beating a helpless and innocent girl had once been like her. Surely they didn't expect Lucy to take pleasure from somebody else's suffering? How could a normal girl like her enjoy putting somebody through so much pain? Then she remembered what she already done. How she had beaten Holly's breasts with the paddle as she fucked her. How she had ground her pussy into her friend's face just so she could cum. How she had got carried away and almost cum as she watched Holly being double penetrated and whipped. Lucy's heart sank, realising that she was already part-way to being that woman. She was no longer who she had been when she had been abducted. As she watched thewoman viciously hit the screaming girl's tits, Lucy knew she was looking at her future.

Stepping into the small passport office, Jeremiah tried to look confident but didn't feel it. He knew this second part of the journey could go badly wrong with severe consequences for himself. But, smiling broadly, he prodded the woman in front, nudging her toward the squat little man behind the desk. Coming in on his own personal privately chartered plane meant no crowd to wade through, no clamouring masses who might give him away. In truth this was far less dangerous than when he had left the States with his precious cargo but he was still apprehensive. He watched nervously as the blonde handed her passport to the man behind the glass who studied it intently, looking from the girl to the document numerous times. Unable to see her face, Jeremiah had no idea if she was secretly telling him something was wrong. His heart skipped a beat as the man looked over her shoulder at him, his beady little eyes behind his spectacles seemingly filled with great distrust. When the man eventually smiled and handed the passport back, he was relieved. Tentatively the girl took the document and walked to the side, leaving Jeremiah next in the queue.

"Wait for me there, darling," he called out in his Texan drawl, stopping her in his tracks. It had been a magnificent flight, truly the best he had ever had. It hadn't started like that. Moving through the airport hadn't been easy. If having a private jet meant he avoided the busiest part of the airport yet plenty of people could have rumbled him at any time. He knew the case of the missing college girl had received national attention and as he walked with the stunning blonde he had kidnapped, he had been terrified somebody would recognise her. He had her dressed in a low cap to obscure most of her face from a glance but when she had handed in her passport he had been almost shaking with fear. Of course he had warned her of what would happen if she tried to reveal who she really was but he knew that if she did he could do nothing about it. Thankfully she hadn't known that and had gone along with it. Just fifteen minutes later they were on his plane; Jeremiah, Melissa and his bodyguard Tyrus with six hours to kill. Of course they had not wasted much time. While Tyrus made his employer a stiff drink, Jeremiah had Melissa strip which she had done many time since he had taken her. Knowing he would punish her severely if she didn't obey, the girl instantly whipped off the baggy layer of clothes he had forced her to wear to reveal the skimpiest little vest and hot pants combination. He quickly put on some cheesy strip tease music and she began to gyrate, knowing it pleased him if she moved like a skanky stripper. Of course it wouldn't be Jeremiah without some physical pain, the thin wooden cane he always kept on the plane encouraging her often. While her hands roamed over her young athletic body, he laughed each time he smacked her. She had yelped at each blow but had continued stoically, first lifting up her tight top to reveal her glorious breasts before removing the hot pants and spreading her legs wide to show her two tight holes. To the uninitiated she seemed to enjoy it, seemingly completely broken in just three weeks, but not so. Instead she was simply seeking to avoid further punishment, her survival instincts hoping that pleasing the man would spare her his most savage wrath.

When Tyrus returned, they had not been kind to the girl, spanking her arse till it was red, pinching and twisting her nipples till they were puffy and swollen, tying her up in various uncomfortable positions, pulling her hair so hard they had nearly ripped it out and inserting all sorts of objects, their dicks among them, into her various holes. A personal highlight for Jeremiah had been her choking on Tyrus' huge black cock while he fucked her with a champagne bottle, stretching her pussy further than he ever had. Of course she had screamed and squealed through their hours of abuse but it didn't matter; the two pilots were paid handsomely to say nothing. After a whirlwind few hours of assaulting the poor girl, they decided to sleep, bending her body into a tight bow and leaving her like that while they rested. Then just a few minutes before touching down, they set upon her again, handling her as roughly as before. Then Tyrus held her down while Jeremiah dressed her ready for the journey. He towered over her, holding a pair of black shorts with two thick dildos sticking up on the inside. Despite Melissa's struggles, he eventually inserted both into her arse and cunt. After dressing her, he then sat her down in her seat, pulled out a remote control and switched it on. As the two dildos began vibrating vigorously inside her, she immediately jumped up as much as her seatbelt allowed. The two men laughed as she squirmed to escape but she had strict instructions not to. Her first orgasm was perfectly timed, her knees going weak just as she stepped off the plane.

Of course he had turned it off as she approached passport control but as she passed him, he reached into his pocket and flicked it back on, smiling as he watched her shake with the sudden vibration. He had gotten his prize through the difficult part of his journey, although for her the hardship was just beginning. Confidently he strode to the booth and handed his passport to the man who examined it. This time Jeremiah wasn't worried at all. With a forced smile that sat badly on his rubbery face, the man handed the passport back.

"Zere you go, Herr Johnson," the man said, his broken English delivered in a thick German accent, "I hope you and your daughter enjoy your stay in Germany."

"Oh, I intend to."


Chapter 6 (added: 2016/11/19)

Flickering on the wall in an eerie intermittent glow like some bizarre puppet show, a dark figure twisted and jerked in mid-air, dancing a strange jig as the candle's light moved with every draught. The room's almost dead silence, save for the occasional creak or whimper, made the movement even more odd, disjointed and unhuman. And in a sense it was. The shadow was no inanimate puppet or flickering light show but outlined what had been an innocent and beautiful young woman. Now still, the latex clad object dangling limply from the rafters looked no more human than its shadow, a grotesque husk of what she had been. If she could have seen herself, Holly wouldn't have recognised the girl who walked into the bar that fateful night.

With a face just a sheen of black barely hinting at features and eyes covered in a thick black leather blindfold, Holly's black blindness mirrored her fractured mind. A blessing perhaps for in a pitch black world, she could not see what had been done to her body. If Holly's mountainous chest had always attracted male leers, now it was not just the size of her huge breasts that caught the gaze. Battered, bruised and swollen, her pale luscious mounds were now bulbous globes of pain, the soft white flesh now scarlet as the ropes below each tit bit hard into a flesh overlain by a patchwork of variegated bruises whose colours and shapes resembled countries in a nightmarish red atlas. Most striking were her swollen pierced nipples which leaked a white fluid like marbled fat in meat, running zig-zag down her boobs to saturate the rope wrapped around her chest and dribble further down her gleaming jet black body. Following her smooth contours, converging into two white rivers running down her black legs and over her encased feet, they dripped drop by drop off her toes into a growing puddle on the floor. The supply was constant, the viscous liquid resembling a solid line of chalk. But Holly had no sense of this, unable to distinguish her nipples' discomfort from other pain. Blind and in an almost silent room, she could almost have rested - except that all of her was in pain, ranging from mild discomfort to a constant deep throbbing agony of her battered tits. And her head was filled not just with pain but a terrible fear that she would never escape this living hell.

Across the room, Olivia was equally tightly and uncomfortably bound. When Greta left, it was just bearable but her position forced Olivia to look up at the candle jammed into her arsehole and so, when the first drop of hot wax ran onto her perineum, she was not surprised. After many minutes, it ran onto her sensitive labia, covering her crotch in wax. But when the flame heating the wax burnt level with her arse cheeks, she suddenly felt an area numb since her anal rape. As it melted in her newly ravaged arsehole, she began to whine in pain and as it melted even deeper into her rectum, her noises soon turned the basement from near silence into a chamber of pain filled screams. After hours of pain in the flickering light, the candle finally burnt out and the girls were in darkness. But now, after lying on a hard wooden table with her legs bent painfully up by her head for hours, Olivia was getting frequent excruciating cramps. Being bound in such a position for so long took its toll despite a flexibility allowing her to endure longer than most women. Each time the agony exploded along her legs, she squealed through the open gag, her inarticulate piercing screeches shattering the basement's dark silence.

White gravel crackled beneath black tyres as a heavy car rolled up a magnificent driveway of a stone castle rising above, back-grounded by mountains. It almost seemed the movie-set home of a villain from a James Bond film and was certainly equally malevolent. As the car stopped at the stone steps of the entrance, Jeremiah smiled in pleasant recollection. This time though was different for, unlike his previous visits, he had not come empty handed. This time he had a sweat covered toy.
After the exhausting journey from the airport, Melissa now lay on the car's luxurious leather seat, her large chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. A soft humming sound came from her crotch as Jeremiah twiddled his thumb on a small black box and she jumped as the sound increased and vibrations shuddered through her body. Squeezing her legs together to stop the dildos from vibrating so powerfully, she sat upright and forced her feet into the floor. In vain. She had tried to stop it before and couldn't, her efforts belied by her sweat covered body and saturated clothes. To her right Tyrus mockingly laughed. Closing her eyes as the vibrations took effect, Melissa tried to think about something, anything else but it was impossible. Hours of near constant stimulation and lubrication had made her pussy incredibly sore, the vibrations causing far more pain than pleasure. But still her body responded, again lubricating her already wet. Accepting the inevitable, Melissa tried to enjoy the brief respite from pain as yet another orgasm began to build.

She still wore the baggy clothes of the airport so her body would not keep Jeremiah from sleeping. A bonus was seeing the crotch of her light grey tracksuit bottoms turn a wet soggy black from all the stimulation and it took great willpower not to rip the bitch's clothes off and drive his cock into her dripping cunt. But in the next few days he would cum so much that he had to pace himself. When young he had used his wealth to just bang girls, his taste pure vanilla. Even after marrying a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader 20 years ago, he had only done some light bondage. It took time to find the side of him that now bought him halfway across the world. As his wife's libido fell, he discovered at 38 his rather unusual preferences through internet bondage porn, BDSM books and literature and an occasional illicit meeting with submissive sexual partners. Escalating quickly, delving deep into the dark web to view more extreme torture porn, he then visited Greta Schweinberg's infamous castle. Where he was right now, reviewing his journey to what he now regarded as a sacred place. Fiddling with the black box controlling the vibrators stuffed into Melissa, he smiled as she jumped and tried to stifle her unwanted climax. Then he heard footsteps on the gravel outside.

Melissa had been close to reluctant orgasm when Jeremiah dialed in its highest setting, her body shaking so violently that she could not stop her teeth chattering. And then after a moment of O-ing silence, her swollen clitoris and pussy pushed her into a flailing form writhing on the limousine's leather seat, screeching her strongest orgasm of the day. Just then the door abruptly opened and a shaft of daylight sliced into the car. As the vibrating bullets inside her mercifully stopped, Melissa looked at the open door where she saw a face and then that it was female. Seeing a woman for the first time in her captivity filled her with hope. Which lasted a second before being taken away.

"Welcome back, Mr Johnson," the Asian woman said, completely ignoring the sweaty panting woman across from the fat American, "would you like help with your cargo?"

Melissa was stunned. A woman was helping the man who had raped and tortured her! And had even referred to her as 'cargo'! Even as she lay there panting and sweating from multiple forced orgasms, aching from weeks of sustained torture, this woman showed no interest in helping her. She looked helplessly around but clearly nobody here, wherever it was, would help her.

"No, thank you," Jeremiah replied, "she'll do as I say. Come on, girl, out!"

His sharp tone required Melissa to obey or face his wrath. Her body ached but she steadied her buckling legs with her hands and, bent over, staggered like a newly born foal slowly to the door. Since the vibrators made extending her legs difficult, she paused there to work out how to step down. Given her weakness, the sudden firm slap on her arse made her legs collapse and, unable to hold on, she sprawled out of the car onto the stony gravel.

As the two men cackled in laughter, the blonde lay on the drive, hurt and humiliated. The Asian woman looked on. She didn't enjoy odious foreign men treating women in an infantile way just to get off and often pitied the women who were sadists' playthings. Still she did nothing. Blood trickling from a cut on her forehead, Melissa struggled up, looking at the woman for aid. But the Asian knew that helping her would earn a one way ticket to a torture chamber and ignored her. The blonde did not know this, viewing her as just another cruel person who loved inflicting pain. But the elegant woman, dressed in black, knew where she had come from and what she had left behind.

As their laughter died, Jeremiah began the significant task of hauling himself out of the low riding car. Gripping the rim with thick sausage-like fingers, he slowly swung his legs out, his cowboy boots crunching the gravel. Now came the hard part. First steadying himself, he swayed back and forth then took a huge breath and used his momentum to pull himself out of the car. Though red with the exertion, the woman didn't help; he was be far too proud to accept and would immediately report her to the castle owner. Like an elephant raising itself in the morning, he hauled himself up, his groans and creaks from the car's suspension filling the air. Finally standing, he paused to catch his breath and readjust his belt before smiling at the woman, totally unembarrassed by his struggle to get out of a car. Behind him, slim and athletic, Tyrus patiently waited.

"This way please, Mr Johnson," the woman said as she turned and started toward the castle, her long high heels requiring intense concentration to walk fluidly on the loose gravel.

Stiff from the journey, Jeremiah stretched and looked at his surroundings, the towering peaks of this stunning valley far different from the barren desert of his Texan oilfields or the drab cityscape around his Dallas office. Jeremiah was not awed by it. He was not a student of culture or nature and his tremendous wealth had not changed that. For him the real sights of this place lay inside. He had been waiting long enough and it was time to do what he enjoyed most.

"Quickly," Jeremiah snapped to his captive, "there's a lot in store for you inside."

His chuckle after the comment made Melissa's skin crawl as she stumbled toward the castle's massive stone steps. Turning her head as much as she dared, she took in the jaw dropping scenery. She normally enjoyed looking at mountains and sweeping valleys but these only inspired dread. Even if she escaped, there was nothing around to help. What's more, it was hardly inconspicuous and yet she already had a sense of what went on here. How could such a place exist in 21st century Europe? But her musings did not solve her problem and her dawdling now drew her captor's ire.

"Move, cunt!" Jeremiah barked so loudly he clearly wasn't worried about being overheard.

With her legs still weak, she took uncertain small steps and, her confidence shot, was unsure where to put her arms. Her self-esteem was so low that she now meekly decided to hold them across her chest. Acutely aware of eyes boring into her back, crossing the massive driveway to the steps took an age. As the dribble of constant orgasms dried on her legs and her wet underwear started to chafe, she kept her head down and climbed, the clicking heels of the Asian woman always before her. At the top, the woman waited at a huge wooden door and she also stopped, desperate not to go in. As her tormentor wheezingly approached, his inability to even climb stairs easily only worsened her disgust and shame. With a tremendous sigh, he arrived and Melissa shuddered.

Behind her, Jeremiah paused for breath. On first coming here nearly twenty years ago, he had bounded up these steps, excited at what lay in store for him. Now he could barely crawl up. But it didn't bother him for regardless of how he got here, when he did he would enjoy its delights just the same. Still wheezing heavily, he waddled over to Melissa and placed his hand on her arse.

"Pretty darn impressive, isn't it?" he asked, speaking to her as a father might a daughter, though of course not wanting an answer, "Just wait till you see what's inside. I can't wait to see what you make of everything, baby. And I promise, if you pay attention, it'll be very educational. Shall we go in?"

Giving her firm rump a squeeze and a slap, he walked on. With no chance of escape, she reluctantly started forward as the Asian woman pushed against the stone archway of the door and the great wooden panel swung open. As the four of them went in, her heart sank.

Lucy blankly stared at the wall, transfixed by images of what she had seen and her own disturbing thoughts. It was like repeatedly watching a movie where the thwack of staves on the hanging girl's body and her piercing screams were the soundtrack to images of the red haired woman and the grotesquely tattooed man gleefully smiling as they brutally beat the girl. But it was not a mental patient's stare, blankly seeing troubling images. When the woman had returned her, she had tightly hugged the blue robe to her slender frame and sat, thinking. Surviving here clearly meant obeying orders or suffer terrible punishment, not only to her but her friends whose whereabouts and fate she knew nothing. More disturbing than captivity or being fucked everyday was that she, a cold but ultimately kind hearted girl, was expected to inflict terrible pain on innocent people. As she considered how she could ever bring herself to do that, the door suddenly opened.

Scarlet filled the gap and Lucy physically recoiled, backing up to the wall. The woman she was thinking of was even more intimidating in person than seen through the glass. Despite ludicrously high leather boots, she still stood over six feet tall and her appearance terrified the teenager. With orange hair so bright it almost gave off light, a heavily made up alabaster complexion and tightly cinched-in corseted waist she looked almost other-worldly. And if now her red robe was not open but tied, little was left to the imagination as her obscene breasts pushed against the thin silk and her nipples looked like bursting through. But her green eyes looked at Lucy impassively.

When the woman threw down a pair of heels, Lucy slid off the bed to sit next to them. It felt like forever since she had anything on her feet and as one who loved fashion, she was quite excited. The shoes were nice, almost ones she might have picked herself. Sliding her feet in, she wasn't surprised at the perfect fit; this operation was well organised and getting this detail right was easy. As she tied the straps, she tried to enjoy the small familiarity before being again forced to do, witness or endure something horrible. Finished, she stayed seated, passively resisting whatever was next.

"Get up," the woman said in a strong Eastern European accent, "you come with me."

Unlike last time, this woman didn't turn and expect her to come but just waited. Standing up, Lucy found the heels higher than she usually wore but not unmanageably so. Slowly and a little ungainly, she walked to the door, expecting the woman to turn and lead on. When she didn't, Lucy nearly walked into her massive chest. Unsure of what to do, she meekly waited for her next order.

"Stand straight," the woman barked, "let me look at you."

Standing up, Lucy raised her head and chin, trying to look confident and avoid further humiliation. The red headed woman looked at her then circled, examining her body with eyes and hands. When she grabbed her arse, the girl flinched but stayed composed, the grab nothing to what she had already endured. Continuing to poke and prod, the long nails easily felt through the thin silk gown, she moved to Lucy's front and used both hands to clasp her breasts, tracing the outline and then slightly squeezing them as if inspecting fruit. Then, seemingly satisfied, she put her hands down.

"Not bad," the woman said and Lucy was strangely relieved to have passed the test, "nice tight ass, good legs, thin. Tits small but I don't think for long. Let's go."

As she turned and strode off, hair and robe flowing, Lucy followed, feeling strangely ungainly on the heels and shocked by the penultimate sentence. She had always been proud that her breasts were decent enough for a cleavage, big enough for men to love playing with during sex and small enough to wear any dress without a bra. She didn't envy her friends their more ample chests but now this bizarre woman was talking about making her a freak like her. But with nothing to do about it now, Lucy just followed, looking and thinking. Where the Asian woman had been in total control of herself and situation, this one looked different, her walk far less graceful, her control artificial, really not one who decided her own fate. If not comforting, for the first time Lucy felt a sense of power.

Acting on this new inner strength, Lucy moved faster to catch up. The corridor seemed longer than before but then she realised they were going in the other direction. Adjusted to the heels, she now strode confidently behind the red robe, almost appearing to be the one in control, her grace and poise far exceeding the woman in front. Lucy couldn't know it but that thinking was intended. When the woman came to a heavy wooden door, Lucy instantly noticed she knocked, unlike her previous guide who had pressed her hand to the stone. When it opened and they walked through, Lucy expected to see someone at the door but there was nobody. But people were there.

This room was neither a dark cell nor filled with the sight and sound of sex but draped in purple velvet. Wearing different coloured robes of the same design as Lucy's, women stood or sat on chairs or couches, all silent and oblivious to the others with only the eerie chiming of some gentle Oriental music breaking the quiet. When the two entered, no-one even looked to note the woman's bizarre appearance. Fearing reprisals, Lucy didn't ask what was going on and so merely waited for some cue.

Leaving Lucy, the woman strode to the end wall and sat on a couch. As the door clicked closed, for the first time Lucy was free of threat but had no idea of what to do and just walked after the woman, trying to project control. It was like walking into a prison yard where how she acted determined her standing. On the wall was a small ticket dispenser and despite no idea of its purpose, she took a number - '64' - then made for a velvet chair and sat down. Suddenly there was a loud beeping and Lucy looked up, convinced she had done something wrong. Everyone was looking at a screen above the door which displayed a bright red '42'. As the other women looked away, a woman from the back approached the opening door and left. Since taking a ticket was no mistake, Lucy relaxed and settled down to wait with a mix of fear and some small curiosity for her number to appear.

As he looked at the man swaying in his chair, Daniel Hanneman began to think it all a complete waste of time and money. The first drink he bought him was clearly not his first and sipping his own double whiskey, he thought about how to get anything from this sad excuse for a man.

"So," he said, edgily annoyed, "do you have ANY information about those three girls?"

"Oh yeah," the man slurred, his purpose in the bar coming back to him, "those three off the news. I did see them in this bar a few nights ago now you mention it."

"Yes," the detective was exasperated, "you said that before. You also said they sat with two Turkish guys, do you remember that?"

"I do!" the man exclaimed, "sat in that booth over there. All three were drunk, falling about...."

"Yes!" Daniel's bark made others at the bar look at them. He was far too busy and the case far too important to repeat the same material over and over. If what he had learned last night was all the man knew then this was another wasted day. Which he'd had far too many of recently. "Can you tell me anything new? Have you seen the two Turks here before? You said one worked at the bar?"

"Ah yes," the man said, unperturbed by his irritated tone, "one does work here. He's quite unfriendly, only interested in the women who come here."

Finally, Daniel thought, he was getting somewhere. Of course this man's story needed checking but having one potential suspect was a start. But he needed more to take to his superiors. Over the next hours he tried, buying him drink after drink. It was largely fruitless, the man's drunken ramblings often having no information at all. But just occasionally an useful snippet prompted Daniel to continue. One point was intriguing. The man recognised three of the women missing over the last few years, each time saying the same bartender and friend spoke to them. But after so many drinks, Daniel saw he would get nothing more. It was time to see what the bar staff could tell him. Thanking the man and leaving change to pay for the drinks, he headed for the bar.

Behind the bar, the same short haired girl of the previous night watched the haggard detective approach. She had seen plenty of police officers down on their luck, drinking then making horrible leers and comments. She knew she had to take some customer abuse but when it came from those in authority it was worse. Still, she knew her job and as he came over she stopped drying the glass.

"Can I help you, Sir?" she said with a professional smile.

"Good evening, Miss," the detective said, trying not to sound intoxicated, "as a matter of fact you can. I was wondering if I might have a few moments of your time?"

The woman sighed before answering, knowing that since barely anybody was in the bar she could hardly claim to be busy. And men like this gave her most of her tips so it paid to be pleasant.

"Of course," she smiled.

"Oh thank you," Daniel was surprised she gave him any time at all, "I'd like to know if you knew anything about these three missing English girls?"

The pretty girl's eyes widened and she looked around uneasily. She had hoped the man had moved on from last night's subject but clearly not. After going home she had thought about the girls while struggling to sleep. The more she thought the more she was convinced she had seen them and the more she realised how suspicious it was. She remembered them being taken outside too drunk to stand, by a guy she worked with and his friend. He'd started about eighteen months ago, seemingly out of nowhere and gave her the creeps. But what really worried her was that after taking them out, not unusual in itself, he hadn't come back. After checking nervously, she leant over the bar.

"Yes," she said, "I think I do."

"Ok," the detective said softly, "tell me everything you can."

Taking out his notebook and pen, his excitement was so great he had to stop himself from shaking but he tried to remain calm, the girl's nervousness very clear. The testimony of some old drunk helped but his superiors would ridicule it. This was far more believable and for the first time he might actually be taken seriously. As she nervously looked from side to side, he prepared to write.

"Well," she began, "I'm not 100% sure."

"That's OK," he said, desperate for any information, "Any information could help find these girls."

Encouraged, the girl told him what she knew. When he showed her pictures of other missing women, amazingly she recognised some and talked further. But soon she stopped.

"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, "I have to close up now."

"Ok," he said, "but write down your contact details so we can be in touch if we need more help."

After she did, Hannemann gathered his stuff and left. In the cold night air, he felt braced by his progress and decided to go in tomorrow with his findings. Of course he needed more time to speak to this girl and perhaps do some recon but he couldn't ignore the urgency. The chance of finding them after three days was slim to non-existent and help had to come now. So he readied himself for his biggest moment. That night, drifting off to sleep, the thought of being a hero filled his dreams.

Olivia had no idea how long she had been bound in the dark but she did know that every second was agony, her legs screaming in pain as the tight bondage kept her in throbbing stillness. Certain irreparable damage had been done, her tortured mind was filled with images of being crippled, her legs stretched beyond recognition, her whole body a grotesque mess. Her other pains, her burnt crotch or bruised breasts were nothing to the burning pain in her lower body. Exhausted by her screams, all she could do was occasionally cry out, her ring-gagged mouth allowing only the most pathetic wails and mewls, the sounds adding to the creaking at the other side of the room. She was so desperate to escape this hell that on hearing heels click on the stone steps she felt relief.

That the arrival of the girls' chief tormentor evoked this emotion was no accident. Walking down the stairs, Greta knew what they felt, her control of her captives so great she could make them feel any emotion she chose, having often done so to many other women. Reaching the bottom, she strode into the room, her high heels very clear in the dungeon's near silence. Counting her steps till level with the table, she then moved up to listen to the anguished sounds coming from the doubled up girl who whimpered even knowing her captor was listening and enjoying them. Silently smiling, Greta touched her taut hamstring. The blonde gasped and Greta chuckled as the muscle quivered uncontrollably. Rubbing her hand up and down the agonised limb, she leant in.

"Does it hurt yet, baby?" she whispered, knowing full well the girl had been in agony for hours, "I bet even those beautiful toned legs are cramping up terribly by now. But do not worry, you will soon be up and getting down to work. First though, I seem to remember I gave you a little something to keep you company but it seems to have gone out. Shall we have a look?"

On that, a spotlight suddenly turned on. Olivia shut her eyes to lessen the light's intensity but her eyelids still flashed painfully. Knowing it was coming, Greta had turned away. Now she looked at the remains of the candle jammed in the girl's arse. A storm ravaged red sea covered her crotch and arse cheeks, bumps in the wax rising and falling like dunes in a barren desert. From the main body small rivulets ran down her back and beneath her breasts. Running a long finger down Olivia's leg and onto the wax, Greta pressed it. Its firmness showed it had been cool for hours but the ring of pink skin round that sea of red was evidence that each drop of wax had burned, if only momentarily.

"Ahhh," Greta said as if genuinely excited, "that looks so pretty! Look at it!"

Pulling her golden mane, Greta forced her head up, bending her body still more. Olivia opened her eyes. She had not looked at the candle jutting from her arse and hadn't seen the full extent of her wax panties. Now she had to watch Greta move a finger to her arsehole, now completely corked with wax, and onto the red mound of her encased pussy. Tapping a long nail on the hardened shell, she then crashed Olivia's head onto the table. Briefly blanking out, Olivia's eyes flashed painfully.

"Very pretty," Greta whispered, "but sadly it cannot stay like that. You will not be much good with two holes blocked, will you? So I must get rid of it. But first, that horrible gag needs to come off."

Feeling for the buckle at the back of Olivia's head, Greta undid the tiny clasp to release the leather strap. After working the metal ring out of Olivia's teeth, she watched her react to her mouth's newfound freedom. As always, the struggle amused her. Acting as if she had just woken from a night of drinking, mouth dry and lips wrinkled, the teenager tried to wet her mouth then remembered what had been done to her tongue and hesitated. Discovering the surgery still allowed almost normal use, she tentatively ran her tongue round her mouth as Greta clicked her fingers loudly.

"That is much better." Greta didn't expect an answer as she held out her hand for Mehmet to give her a small plastic baton. Wrapping a hand in Olivia's golden mane, she again pulled her head up as she weighed the baton and swished it slowly, tantalisingly through the air.

"I will not insult your intelligence and lie," Greta said, slowly swinging the baton up, "this is going to hurt. But you can watch and use that mouth of yours to finally please your mistress."

On that, she smashed the baton into the barely visible outline of Olivia's hidden pussy. The impact was instantly drowned by her reverberating wail of agony which Greta enjoyed immensely. Her pain didn't end with that sickening thump for her body involuntarily bucked in response. Tied so tight she couldn't move, this caused an almighty spasm in her legs. And her torment was far from over.

For Greta, Olivia's noise just proved she was doing a good a job, a huge crack in the wax showing the soft skin beneath. Eagerly continuing, the black plastic crashed near the first, thudding into the girl's crotch and exploding small shards of red wax from the surface to open yet another gash that revealed more bronzed skin. Olivia scream was intense, her mind racing with images of horrendous bruises and broken bones. Her next swing squarely hit Olivia's right arse cheek, loosening a large chunk over the base of her pussy. Flicked away by her abuser, her inviting sex was at last exposed.

Mehmet watched Greta's fourth strike and listened to another piercing shriek in the theatre of screams. When he had seen the little teen, his cock had stiffened but now, watching Greta beat the girl so brutally, he felt annoyed. He had brought quite a few women here but since meeting her in the bar three nights ago, he could not get Olivia out of his head. Before talking to the three teens, the men decided to take them to the castle and so he'd convinced himself he wasn't interested in what they said when she chatted on with a reckless easy-to-listen-to abandon. Though supposedly scouting them, he had found himself drawn to the little blonde. It hadn't stopped him raping or hurting her but for some reason he didn't quite understand, watching Greta crash another fierce blow on the girl's pubes created a strange anger. He felt this one his; he had found her and only he should do this to her. Still, he knew his duty and if he interrupted Greta while she was working, well, he wasn't sure what would happen but he didn't care to find out. And so he stood watching as the sight of Olivia's beautiful pink pussy stirred his lust once again.

In a world of pain, Olivia wasn't thinking of Mehmet at all. The excruciating stretching of her legs was now joined by the baton's rhythmic pounding whose force felt great enough to shatter bones. Pulled up by her hair, she had to watch each sickening blow. If she hadn't felt the pain she wouldn't have thought it was her. The situation was so unbelievable she still subconsciously hoped it was all some awful dream, that she'd wake in a hospital having been spiked but safe. But these actions were real, real pain, real humiliation and real cruelty. As another blow slammed into her and another chunk fell away, the wax was now only strips criss-crossing her hips, streams running down her body and two plugs in her arse and cunt. Greta ran the tip of the baton over her two holes, tapping each one lightly. Watching in sheer terror, Olivia waited for the next terrible torture, imagining the baton being rammed deep into her. But Greta had something else in mind and put it down.

"There we go," Greta's voice contrasted cheerily with Olivia's misery, "that was not so bad, was it? Now, you cannot work with all those wax streaks so you are going upstairs. Time to get you up."

Greta pointed and Mehmet edged round to the cuffs binding her ankles. Pushing down on her calves, they undid the buckles strapping her feet to the table. Pushing up desperately, Olivia's stretched legs tried to return to a natural position but her tormentors held them. On release, her legs swung round, slamming her heels into the hard wood. Again she screamed, first at the impact and then at the excruciating pain of her agonisingly stretched legs resuming to their normal position. By the time Greta undid her strapped arms and then the band holding her forehead, her screams had died to intermittent sobs. Mehmet then scooped the small girl off the table, tossed her over a shoulder like a rag doll and marched up the stairs, his thoughts about her seemingly forgotten.

As they disappeared, Greta went to the room's other girl. Holly didn't know what had happened to Olivia but had heard her screams and as her torturer approached began to shake. Knowing her fear, Greta smiled broadly and stopped to look at the blindfolded specimen whose massive bulging tits were level with her face. Holly knew where she was but could only flinch as her sharp nails traced down the sensitive red skin of her mountainous breasts. Bound like this, Greta knew those magnificent tits were very sensitive, each touch of her sharp nails painful. Scratching along the bulbous flesh until she reached a nipple, she ran her finger through the white liquid and slowly mouthed it with a loud sucking noise as if tasting a luxurious chocolate. Then, running her palms along the bound mounds, she slapped them hard. Small drops of white arced across the room as Holly's bound tits bounced from the impact and a soft muffled moan escaped her gagged mouth. Resting once again, more liquid oozed from her nipples to run the familiar path down her breasts.

"Mmmm, delicious," Greta spoke loudly for the girl to hear, "soon it will be ready to be put to work. I wish it could see how ridiculous it looks with its big udders sticking out and leaking. It better enjoy the next few hours because when I come down next, it will not be so comfortable."

Taking one last look, Greta then turned to follow Mehmet and Olivia up the stairs. For the first time Holly was alone. Her thoughts ran in a mouse wheel, uselessly circling what Greta had said. Being referred to as it, having her breasts slapped, pinched, scratched and abused in unimaginable ways, being treated like an animal was "normal". That Greta planned something even less comfortable than this worried her but that was intended and knowing that made it easier to bear. But one word troubled her: 'leaking'. How could her breasts be 'leaking'? What could possibly make them 'leak'? She thought about the needle that had been jabbed into her breast. But what could it have done? And what was 'leaking'? Blood? Water? Milk? All seemed implausible. Yet despite the pain Greta caused, the girls were, physically at least, almost the same as when they'd been captured. If they were rescued, she thought, there was no reason why they couldn't return to their old lives but each passing torture made that hope fade. Holly knew she would never be mentally the same but now she wondered whether she would be physically intact. It made trying to be strong and not lose hope increasingly difficult. Every second wore her down and it was certainly true that things would not get any easier. If she knew what was coming, though, she would have despaired even more.

Carrying Olivia's limp body up the stairs, Mehmet cared little for Holly's worries. His role was not to think about the minds of the girls coming through here but to shape their thoughts with his actions, hurt them, make them feel powerless and, most of all, enjoy himself. Early on he hadn't understood this, merely obeying orders, fucking a long line of beautiful women and taking increasing pleasure in inflicting pain. Now, though knowing these girls were always changed here, he chose not to think about it. But now, walking up the stairs, he puzzled over what Olivia thought. Carrying her on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, an arm across her pert little bottom, he wondered. Did she despair? Did she have an inner strength and determination to resist? And now he was suddenly troubled by thoughts of why he was worrying about what this bitch thought. He hadn't worried about others nor had his feelings made him any easier on her than them. He'd fucked and abused them all.

On going through the door, he veered right then into another room. Olivia was out of the dungeon for the first time but didn't care. Though fearful of the future, it couldn't be worse than the past. Indeed when Mehmet slung her on his shoulder, she tried to enjoy it as a brief respite from crippling agony. "Respite" was relative of course since her pussy throbbed painfully from Greta's battering, her legs ached from hours of cramp and her elongated tongue felt strange and alien. Still, Greta's absence was a plus for if the two Turks had been unbelievably cruel, she was worse. Another plus was leaving Holly. The two had been friends for years, virtually inseparable since primary school and doing everything together. To see and hear Greta abuse her, both physically and verbally, was like being abused herself. The cruelty wouldn't stop but at least she wouldn't have to see or hear it.

The room differed from the dark and dingy basement since it had the basic fittings of a prison cell: a small bed and a chair, a space for a toilet and shower. Kicking the door shut, Mehmet put her on the mattress and silently dragged a chair to the middle of the room. Plonking himself down facing the bed, he stared at the girl curled in misery, her legs up to her chest, covering her breasts as best she could and turning her hips toward the wall to hide her arse and pussy from his gaze. Despite the hours of tears, she still looked beautiful. Mehmet could have just sat and watched her but he had a deadline. Clicking his fingers loudly to get her attention, he spoke in his softest voice.

"No time to sleep, baby," Mehmet whispered, "you must be ready to work. Don't worry, I won't hurt you but I have to clean you up." He tailed off as he realised he shouldn't be talking, reassuring her or anything. The whole point was to grind down these girls' self esteem and courteously talking to her shattered the illusion. Looking at the blinking camera in the corner, he knew that if Greta investigated, she would catch his unprofessional moment and potentially detect his weakness for this girl. The consequences of this weren't clear but he didn't want to find out - Greta was not one to get on the wrong side of. But he could do nothing about it now and so just got on with his job.

"Up." Mehmet said but Olivia didn't move. He wanted to give her time but now he couldn't afford to be lenient. Angrily grabbing her, he lifted the small girl up, surprised she didn't resist but merely hung limply, her head slumped against her chest. "Stand up," he was annoyed, "or I will hurt you."

Knowing she had to obey, Olivia reluctantly straightened her legs to stand. They buckled at first, having not taken weight for many hours, but as he held her, she tried again and though her stiff legs hurt, eventually stood. Showing a persistent mind-set, Olivia crossed one arm across her chest to hide her breasts and snaked the other down to her sex. Despite being naked over the last few days and having unspeakable things done to her, she still tried to modestly cover herself. Mehmet didn't shatter her illusion but brushed her golden hair from her face and then tenderly, as if a doting lover, lifted up her chin. Olivia knew what he wanted and kept her eyes down, not wanting to look at one of her assailants but he kept lifting her chin. Considering it, she decided that though looking at him hurt emotionally, she could show her strength and resistance. So, reluctantly, she lifted her eyes.

The Turk dwarfed Olivia's slender 5' frame. He wore only a pair of baggy sports shorts and she took in the milky coffee colour of his rippling torso, his roughly hewn jaw and hazel eyes. Tears welled as memories flashed back of having to look at him when first raped. Having cried many times in front of this man, she tried desperately to control herself but couldn't. Barely seeing through a film of tears, she felt a hand grab the arm on her chest and briefly resisted. Knowing he would finally succeed, she stopped and with a heavy heart, felt it pulled away, revealing her pert breasts just as a tear dripped onto them. Quickly taking a beautifully formed breast, he looked at her face as he gently squeezed the soft globe of pliant flesh. Olivia tried not to react to her breasts being squeezed but, remembering how roughly he had treated them, she flinched. Still squeezing her tit, his other hand took the arm covering her sex. Again she resisted but a swift muscular tug pulled it away.

Naked and exposed, Olivia stood as Mehmet softly fondled her breast and moved his other hand to her still waxy privates. Each pretty tit could fit into a hand but they looked large on her small body and no man would have complained about squeezing them. Mehmet certainly wasn't and as he drank in her delicate features he could no longer stop himself. After telling him to get the girl ready, why would Greta bother to check? Part of his brain knew he could be throwing away his career or worse but another part didn't care. Stroking the side of her face with one hand, he gripped her hair and leant in. Her mouth was slightly dry and her lips cracked but he still pressed his lips firmly to them, forcing his tongue into her mouth and not caring that she didn't respond. Lost in a heady mix of lust and confusion, he kissed her passionately while tightening his grip on her tit. His cock throbbed in his pants and Olivia felt it rise, the fabric of his shorts rubbing her thighs. He could wait no longer; it was time to put Olivia's new tongue to work. He stopped kissing to whisper

"I want you to suck my cock," he said breathlessly, "but I'll be gentle."

Not waiting for agreement, still gripping her hair and breast, he led her to the bed and sat on the edge, pulling her to him and forcing her to kneel. Releasing her breast, he used his hand in her hair to force her face toward his crotch and rubbed her face over it, the fabric rough on his sensitive cock. Releasing her to pull down his shorts, his prick bouncing proudly up, he waited for her to obey.

In the context of this whole nightmare, giving a blowjob was a fairly humane command. She stared at the throbbing veiny cock, a paragon of masculine strength and virility but there was no reason to delay. Gripping its base with a tiny hand, she peeked quickly at Mehmet's face, his anger during her first rape now seeming like genuine tenderness. Extending her long tongue slightly, she bent over to slowly engulf his cock's engorged tip and then, responding to a soft appreciative moan, inched further down his shaft, getting halfway down before the head touched the back of her throat.

As Olivia slid up until just the head was in her hot mouth before going down, Mehmet moaned again as her tongue rasped the sensitive underside of his dick, her dry mouth barely inhibiting his enjoyment. He looked down as she fellated him, her golden blonde hair cascading over his dick. As he brushed it out of her face, her eyes flicked up, the sight of her baby blues making it even more erotic. Still stroking her face as she bobbed down again, he took care not to push her down. He could face fuck a girl whenever he wanted but that wasn't what he wanted now. He wanted to share a moment with a girl as he used to, a tender moment where the goal was not merely pain and pleasure but genuine human connection. Though spanking a woman or squeezing a big pair of tits while fucking a screaming babe was fun, part of him missed the fun of mutual passion. Looking at Olivia's pretty head on his shaft, a semblance of that emotional connection returned.

Her mind and mouth filled with dick, Olivia had no idea Mehmet was contemplating the value of human connection. Still, this was the most relaxed she had felt since being abducted. It wasn't enjoyment, no, but with no crippling pain or threat of imminent torture, she could focus on simply pleasing a man, something she had enjoyed before all this. An ex-boyfriend had first taught her how to suck cock, guiding her through her inexperience. In the two years before he went to university, she had done it many times, becoming not only proficient but enjoying it too, not so much in itself but from pleasing her partner. She had none of that satisfaction here. Even trying to please Mehmet and Hasan had only been to stave off some impending punishment. But this felt different. Here he seemed to be enjoying not just her blowjob but a moment alone with her. She couldn't put her finger on why but it allowed her to relax and clear her mind of the horrors of the last few days.

"Oh fuck yes," Mehmet muttered under his breath, "jack my cock."

As her hand moved up and down, she rested her free arm on his leg and again went down on his cock, pushing it deeply in and speeding up her jacking off. His moans grew in intensity and the hand stroking her cheek now gripped her hair hard. Though he pushed his groin toward her, it was a far cry from Hasan's face fucking. Breathing through her nose, she moved the cock in and out of her mouth, jerking the base up and down like a salt shaker. When he twitched, she knew he was close.

"I'm cumming," almost shouting, he stood up and pulled his cock from her mouth, "look at me."

Wide as dinner plates, her brilliant blue eyes looked on as Mehmet jerked himself off. With the tip of his cock just inches from her face, he came after only a few strokes, a thick blob of sticky white cum shooting from his dick in a line from her hair to the bridge of her cute button nose. With a loud roar, a second jet shot over an eye, welding it shut. Milking the last drops from his twitching cock, he squeezed his jism over her face. Looking at her, he knew he had betrayed his duty by sharing an intimate moment with a slave. And looking at her cum covered face, he knew he would do it again.

Their footsteps echoed loudly in the great marble hall. The brilliant white polished surfaces almost blinded the terrified American, the room's splendour showing her situation as even more hopeless. When she hesitated, not knowing where to go, Jeremiah immediately verbally abused her.

"That way, bitch," he said loudly, his brash Texan personality showing no signs of abating as he pointed to the hall's far corner where a man and woman stood. Waddling as best she could with two dildos stuffed into her, Melissa soon saw a terrifying looking woman with peroxide blonde hair tied tight in a bun that pulled her skin taut on her bony face. She filled Melissa with sheer terror. Her perfectly tailored grey suit seemed more appropriate to a successful business woman than one in this business. The other was a very attractive man, tall, dark and handsome, dressed in a black shirt and trousers. The four stopped about a metre away and Jeremiah greeted the woman.

"Ms. Schweinberg," he said warmly, offering a fat hand which the woman took in her bony one.

"Mr. Johnson, good to have you here again." she replied, seemingly genuinely pleased to see him.

"It's great to be back, I can't wait to get started!"

"All in good time, old friend, all in good time."

Melissa was unable to take her eyes from the woman's piercing features. When she looked at her, Melissa audibly gasped as her emerald green eyes locked on, her stare chilling.

"So this is what you have brought," Greta walked over, her eyes still fixed on Melissa's, "very nice."

Melissa didn't know what was happening but with no way to avoid this terrifying woman, she stood still as the woman came up. Though used to being treated as an object, she was still startled when Greta gripped her face, pinching and pulling her cheek as if hoping to find something amiss then grabbing her breasts as if inspecting them for some unknown sign. Even through the jumper's thick material, she still felt the bony fingers squeeze her soft flesh. Examining her like furniture, Greta relaxed her grip to inspect the back, fondling her arse while Melissa stared into a middle distance, trying to ignore it all. Coming back round, Greta handling of Melissa's cunt made her flinch. On Jeremiah's sharp look, she stood still while Greta groped her pussy, probing the stuffed opening with a bony finger. Seemingly satisfied, Greta released her grip and turned to Jeremiah.

"Very nice indeed," Greta said to her friend, "tits, ass and cunt all seem in order. I am sure we will have plenty of fun with her. As for you, you will soon know how to behave."

Greta said this last with a snarl, surprising Melissa with the hatred she showed to a stranger. How could anybody refer to another person as 'tits, ass and cunt'? But for all her many talents, Melissa knew that was all she was to these people. They had no respect for her or her achievements but only wanted hurt and abuse her. And she was sure that was not about to change any time soon.

"We will get her sorted," Greta said, ignoring Melissa, "bathed and ready to begin her lessons."

"Excellent," Jeremiah said gleefully

"Good, good. Now I will escort you to your quarters. I need to tell you some things about your entertainment. Take her downstairs." As Greta turned, her heels loud on the marble floor, Jeremiah moved to Melissa.

"Enjoy your stay, cunt," he said gleefully, "by the end you'll be the perfect obedient little slave."

With that, he followed Greta in animated conversation. As they disappeared, Melissa heard his fatbellowing laugh and looked at the woman, hoping to be set free. A forlorn hope quickly snuffed out.

"Follow," she snapped, "quickly."

Obeying, Melissa followed the woman and dreaded what was in store for her. With good reason.

A creaking door signalled the next circle of Holly's living hell. Still blind, she had no idea who it was or what was coming. Not that she could do anything about it, trussed tightly, completely helpless and at the mercy of her tormentors. Clicking heels signalled Greta's arrival and Holly's heart sank, the tiny hope of someone rescuing her from this nightmarish horror gone. They had been missing for days; surely the police would find them. But a slim hope of future rescue did not help her situation now and as the heels came nearer, she knew more pain and humiliation was coming.

"Get the cunt down."

The voice and tone was Greta's, obviously standing just inches away. Hanging motionless, Holly heard footsteps go to the wall followed by a whirring as the bar she was tied to was lowered. When her latex clad feet touched the ground, she didn't try to stand since it continued pushing her back down, making her kneel and forcing her sensitive bulging breasts into her knees. This was clearly intended for there was a slight pause before it started again, bending her further and making her whinny in pain. Her painful position seemed enough for it stopped and she felt the ropes binding her to the bar and constricting her tits being undone. A second later she groaned in agony as the blood rushed back, renewing the pain all over her beaten breasts. Her muffled groans lasted longer than anticipated for her breasts seemed surprisingly sensitive. But no longer bound, they still returned to their usual glorious shape, no longer firmly pressing into her knees but softly resting.

"Bring it over here."

Suddenly pulled forward by her ponytail, Holly was dragged over the uneven stone floor, kicking her legs and screaming into her gag, her sensitive nipples rubbing painfully across the cold abrasive surface. Holding her hair like a lead, Hasan dragged her, snaking from side to side to prolong her agony, to drop her to the floor at Greta's feet. Then, standing behind, he waited for the show.

"Kneel!" Greta barked. Quickly scrambling to her knees, arse resting on her heels and back straight, the gagged and blindfolded girl waited for her next order. Greta looked at her pretty slave's hidden face, the blindfold and gag making her more like a sex toy than a human. The ponytail popping out the top and large nose ring only reinforced this. The latex body suit hugged the rest of her body, its tight fit exquisitely emphasising her curves. What showed the figure wasn't a giant rubber doll were the two magnificent globes jutting from her chest. By supporting herself with hands on her knees, Holly's tits were tightly squeezed together into a dream cleavage. The same injection that made her breasts 'leak' also swelled her tits even bigger than before. But though larger, they were still youthfully perfect, sitting high and proud on her chest. As he stared at her protruding breasts, Hasan was twitchingly desperate to handle them. Greta reached round to undo the gag and blindfold.

Blind for so long, her doe-like eyes blinked in the light and she recoiled, shutting her eyes again. But she was determined to get used to it. Seeing gave her some control, allowing her to anticipate and prepare. Finally adjusting, she looked at the two figures towering over her, dressed as she had first seen them. Knowing how merciless they were, she just knelt and waited for their next abuse.

"Hello again, Tits," Greta said, squatting down level with Holly, "it has been a long time since it could see its masters. But something has changed since we last saw it. Stand."

Holly stood, eager to show as little resistance as possible. Walking slowly to her rear, the German pressed against her firm arse and reached round with both hands to squeeze her tits just behind the nipple. To Holly's amazed horror, two jets of white liquid shot into the room from her breasts, almost reaching Hasan four feet away. She gasped again as Greta repeated the trick, squeezing two more streams from her tits. She knew what the liquid was but couldn't believe it. At first she thought she was pregnant from being raped. But women lactated weeks after conception and her pre-captivity virginity made that impossible. No, the only explanation was the injection into her tits. As she stared at the milk on the floor, trying to grasp what had been done to her, Greta spoke.

"Does it know what I just squeezed from its tits?"

"Yes, mistress," Holly said after a brief pause for she knew she couldn't hesitate too long.

"Well, what is it?"

"Milk, mistress."

"And why does it have milk coming from its tits?"

"Because...because that's what mistress wants..." confused, she stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Does it remember why it has the ring in its nose?"

"Yes, mistress," she said as the whole thing made more sense, "because it..."

"This cunt!"

"Because this cunt is a cow...?"

"That is right, cunt!" Greta said, releasing her tits and walking in front of her, "Because it is a worthless fucking cow. Its ridiculous big udders make it good only for being fucked and milked. Does it see how its tits are even bigger now? Now it can please its masters even more. Is it pleased?"

"Yes, mistress, thank you, mistress."

"It is welcome. Now it will show its appreciation by licking its own milk off the floor."

Holly paused then gingerly got on her hands and knees at the start of the line of milk. As she went down on her elbows, her huge tits hung down to touch the stone. Then, like an animal at a watering hole, she began to lap, licking along the stone and inching forward as she finished a section. She worked slowly for though the floor was relatively clean, it still had small bits of dust and stone. Inch by inch she licked her way to Hasan until, after five minutes of licking and trying not to wretch, she finally reached his shiny black shoes. She was about to stop when Hasan lifted his foot and she cleaned it with her tongue. With both feet done, Hasan stepped away, leaving her on the floor.

"Thank you, mistress," Holly was hoping for some brownie points. Feeling her breast prodded, she looked round to see Hasan poking his shoe into her soft flesh, clearly enjoying her vulnerability.

"Never say its mistress never gives it anything. It is a very lucky cunt and should never forget that. Now it will follow its master upstairs to be prepared for a very special guest. But first it will listen. It will obey anybody it is told to. If I find out it has been a bad cunt then it will be severely punished. Remember, it is a worthless cunt and if it is bad, it can easily be destroyed. Does it understand?"

"Yes, mistress," she shuddered to think what was meant by 'destroyed'.

"Good, now get out of my sight!"

Holly was about to get up when Hasan dangled a small leash in her eye line, then clipped it to the gold ring in her nose. Yelping as he yanked her forward, she followed him across the dungeon to the stairs, walking on all fours and feeling totally worthless, Greta's constant abuse clearly working. Silently she was led up the stairs, struggling to keep pace. When she slipped and fell, Hasan barely stopped, painfully tugging her nose ring until she got to her feet to follow him. At the top, they turned into a corridor and then through a door. Dropping the lead, he closed the door.

As a professional, Hasan had none of Mehmet's problems with Olivia. Sure, he'd squeeze the bitch's gorgeous tits, suck some milk from them and slide his monster dick between those huge mounds. While preparing her, he would embarrass, humiliate and wherever possible hurt her but he couldn't even imagine feeling anything for her other than lust. To him she was a sex slave, to be used and abused at her owner's pleasure. He loved playing with these girls, especially ones as pretty and well endowed as this particular specimen. And if he missed having a woman fuck him as much as he fucked her, he only needed permission to visit a professional whore upstairs. All he wanted was here and he wouldn't throw it away for some worthless thing. So, walking back to her, he thought of nothing but the fun he was about to have with her and her monster tits.

Tick, tock went the clock. Greta watched it intently. She had an appointment in an hour yet her entertainment for that hour was late and her impatience grew. Mehmet had more than enough time to clean Olivia, and for her to test drive that new tongue, he had to be HERE. Turning to the laptop on her desk, she moused over Surveillance. Perhaps Mehmet had disobeyed orders and violated the girl he had been charged with? Unlikely given his sterling service but she had been wrong about such men before. Clicking the icon to bring up all the cameras covering the house, she scrolled through to the room Mehmet had taken the girl to. It was empty. On their way presumably, but why so long? She rewound until she saw Mehmet and Olivia leaving the room later than they should have and then rewound further to see what had previously happened. Then she heard a knock.

"Come in," she turned impatiently as Mehmet pushed a naked Olivia through the door. Excited at the new arrival, forgetting her suspicion, she closed the window just as Mehmet ejaculated.

"Thank you, Mehmet," she said courteously, her annoyance disappearing, "you may leave."

As he closed the door, the tall Turk was unaware of just how close he'd come to being caught. Now alone with Greta, a shivering Olivia was surprised by what she saw. A woman she'd only seen dressed like an extra from a horror film now stood at a desk wearing a sharp grey suit with her hair now styled into a far more flattering bun. And the room was the swankiest office Olivia had ever seen. No stone floor, chains, whips or torture devices; luxurious shag carpet, stylish décor, a gorgeous oil painting on the wall - and large windows with a breath-taking view of snow capped mountains on one side and wide sweeping U shaped valley on the other. If it wasn't for a face that Olivia associated with terror and pain, she would think her just a business woman enjoying the perks of a prestigious job. Shivering, she subconsciously covered herself against the room's chill.

"Arms down," Greta snapped, "never cover yourself in front of me. Over here."

Lowering her arms and walking toward the desk, the little blonde's perky breasts jiggled slightly as her feet sank into the soft carpet and goose bumps rose on her soft bronzed skin. With the wax gone and both her holes unblocked, Mehmet had washed her and allowed her to relieve herself. Olivia's flawless complexion made her look incredible even without make up. The sunlight streaming through the window made her blonde hair into a halo as she stopped at the desk. Walking round, her high heels making no noise, Greta's eyes never left Olivia who looked ahead, her knees shaking as much with fear as cold. As part of her act, Greta absently checked how thoroughly Mehmet had done his job though she didn't really think he hadn't. With limited time, she was anxious to get on.

"Open wide."

Taking a light-pen from her pocket, Greta probed her mouth and underneath her tongue. Her cut had healed perfectly. Keen to maintain her professional appearance, Greta stifled an excited smile.

"You look cold?" Greta said to Olivia who didn't realise it was a question at first, "Answer me!"

"Yes," Olivia answered, then adding quickly, "mistress."

"Well, we would not want that, would we, baby?" Greta stroked her face then went to a cabinet, turning round with an object that made Olivia gasp. Glinting in the light was a large conical sex toy or so she assumed, having heard of such things without ever actually seeing one. Its silvery rounded point expanded to what she thought an impossible girth before shrinking to a black plastic with a cable and plug trailing out the bottom. Putting it down and plugging it into the wall, she silently puther desk chair in front of the menacing cone, then looked at Olivia and clicked her fingers.

Shoulders slumped, Olivia moved to the German with shocked eyes fixed on the thing she had to impale herself on. Even after being raped by the men's giant cocks, as a small girl with only a small hole, she could not see herself getting onto it. But Greta would not let her pain be a reason not to do it. Standing next to the device, she looked pleadingly at Greta.

"If you are cold," Greta spoke like a parent to an unhappy child, "stick that up your twat, it will warm you up nicely."

She looked from Greta to the toy and then back at Greta's raised eyebrow. With nothing to say, she looked down again at the giant glistening cone, not knowing how to even approach the task. It was clearly too big to fit inside her but with no choice, she knelt and tentatively shuffled forward until the tip just touched her pussy. And recoiled; the metal was not warm but freezing. Looking up questioningly, she was about to ask if this was really intended to 'warm her up' as Greta answered.

"It will heat up when inside you. So unless you want me to do it for you, you need to hurry up."

Knowing Greta doing it for her would be painful, she ignored her fear of this thing "heating up" and moved her hips until the tip rested at her hole. Sniffling to prevent more tears, she lowered herself, the cold making her wince as it went in. At first it went in quite easily because of the cold metal and her dryness but halfway down, it was more difficult. Another inch and Olivia felt her walls so painfully stretched that going further would tear them apart. She tried again but it was impossible. Her eyes filling with tears at the strain, she looked at the blurred figure above her, thinking that even this woman could see that going further would permanently damage her. She was sorely mistaken.

"Why have you stopped, whore!?" Greta snapped, bending down level with Olivia's face.

"Mistress," Olivia replied, a tear running down her face, "I can't go any further."

"Was I not clear, bitch!? I want it in your slutty little cunt! Am I to do all your work?"

"No...no...please I'll...."

"Too late, you ungrateful English whore, after all I have done for you, you repay me by forcing me to do your job for you."

Grabbing Olivia's pale pink nipples, Greta yanked down. Olivia squealed at both the pain from her breasts and her pussy being stretched still further. Even two more tugs on her breasts did not induce her to move much further down, despite significantly more pain. But Greta seemed untroubled and even smiled as she stood up, her crotch now level with Olivia's tear stained face. Placing her bony hands on the girl's golden hair, she slowly ran them to her narrow shoulders. And pushed.

Forced down with a sudden thump, a momentary pause was followed by a blood curdling scream. Her banshee wail cutting the air, Olivia's stretched pussy was pushed over the cone's widest part to close up over its thinner part. But if her young supple sex closing with the entire cone inside her was painful, it was not the primary reason for her scream. Nor was it her legs being spread painfully wide by being forced down. It was the tip rammed excruciatingly into her cervix that made Olivia continue shrieking. The agony just did not decrease, the intense wave of pain lingering on and on. Indeed she screamed for an eternity of ten seconds. As this most piercing agony very slowly lessened, she stopped screaming but the continuing ache was so painful she still wept, a weeping intensified by seeing the outline of the cone's widest part visibly distending her taut skin. To relieve some pressure in her hole and on her cervix, Olivia shuffled her knees together as much as the toy allowed, to raise the base off the ground. Then the sobbing girl knelt motionless, her heavy breathing making her reddened breasts bounce slowly, to wait for whatever Greta would do next.

"Should have done it yourself, eh, cunt?" Greta said, "Now show how sorry you are."

Taking off her jacket, Greta meticulously folded it and put it on her desk, doing the same with her shirt, tailored trousers and bra and knickers. Then, taking a small black item the size of an electronic car key and still wearing her high heels, she turned and sat on her chair, her pussy about a foot from the kneeling girl. Olivia blinked away some tears and for the first time stared at Greta's naked body. Her skin was in good condition for one probably in her 40s. With not an ounce of extra fat, she was lean and obviously muscular, good definition to her abs, her breasts little more than puffy nipples. If anything, the super fit German looked even more intimidating without her leather. Olivia had seen that pussy with its triangular crown of short blonde hair before and knew what she had to do.

"Stick that tongue out," on command, Olivia obeyed, "Yah, good. You know what to do now."

"Yes, mistress," Olivia stuck her tongue out at the end of each answer

"What?"

"To lick you, mistress," and stole herself mentally for what she was about to do.

"Where?"

"Your...your..." pausing, unsure of what word to use, "pussy?"

"Cunt, you stupid slut," Greta snapped as she inched forward on the chair, spreading her legs and slowly moving her pussy lips closer and closer to Olivia, "And why are you going to lick my cunt?"

"Because," Olivia was again unsure what to say but tried ..."my mistress has told me to."

"Very good," Greta said, moving closer, "And because you are a pretty little cunt licker, I am going to be very kind. Because you are a weak English bitch who cannot handle being a little chilly, I am going to treat you. Once you start lapping my cunt with that lovely new tongue, I will press this button." She held up the small black box, "I will not press it again until you make me cum, so just as before, it would be in your best interests to do a good job. Now lick me, whore!"

Sliding forward a final few inches, Greta slammed her pussy into Olivia's face. As her nose plunged into Greta's folds, the smell of sex hit and she heard a click. Putting her tongue right inside, she began licking from the bottom of Greta's vagina up to her hooded clitoris. She had scarcely begun when Greta grabbed her head and pulled her violently into her crotch. Coughing for air, she couldn't breathe until she got her nose out of Greta's lips but still she kept licking, only occasional heavy breathing from Greta showing any effect. Soon, however, Olivia felt something else, a very gentle warming deep inside her pussy. Her eyes widened as it steadily intensified.

"Good, slut," Greta groaned, "It will get very hot very soon. Lick harder, cunt!"

Quickly lapping all of Greta's pussy Olivia sped up, flicking the tip of her tongue against the hooded clit, running the flat over the lips and occasionally pushing as far into the hole as she could. She tried to emulate the techniques she'd enjoyed when, in a previous life, she was eaten out by a doting lover. By now the dildo was about hand washing temperature and she shuffled slightly, trying to move it around and reduce the heat. From behind and with only the device's small flat base jutting out, Olivia's peachy arse seemed to wriggle in arousal. Greta's hand wrapped in Olivia's hair and as she pushed her head deep into her groin, she pulled the golden locks to elicit a yelp from the mouth buried deep in her pussy. As Greta moaned in pleasure at her attentions, the young woman moaned for an entirely different reason. The heat was now painful, her wriggling making no difference. Suddenly Greta slid forward on the chair, knocking Olivia back slightly, and pulled her legs up.

"Tongue my ass, cunt!" she shouted, her hands never leaving Olivia's head.

Forced down an inch to tongue Greta's arsehole, Olivia's button nose was slicked in pussy juice. But she never stopped licking since which hole she pleasured didn't matter, only that she pleased Greta as quickly as possible. Extending her tongue, she slipped it into Greta's sphincter and was forced to anally tongue her molester by the bony hands pushing her head back and forth. As the pain in her abdomen grew, her tears mixed with Greta's cunt juices on her extended tongue. Forced into Greta's groin, she struggled to breathe, snatching only small breaths when momentarily pulled away. The excruciating pain made her now dread what was happening to her sensitive pussy and she half expected to hear flesh sizzling over the squelching sounds of Greta's dripping cunt and arse.

"Fuck yes," Greta yelled, "now make me cum, you filthy bitch!"

As she pulled Olivia's head back to again lap her sex, the feeling of the bitch's modified tongue on her most sensitive parts was heavenly. Looking at the mess of blonde hair she was forcing into her cunt, she saw the girl hopping from knee to knee and wriggling her arse to relieve the pain in her hole. Greta moaned with delight, partly because the girl's tongue had just flicked her engorged clit but also because forcing Olivia to lick her while her insides burned made her feel so powerful. Pulling her head away, she listened to the bitch now keening a high pitched whine of terrible pain. On the final stretch, Greta ground her cunt into the bitch's face. With the girl's tongue sticking out, Greta now did most of the work, gyrating her pelvis and rubbing Olivia's head up and down as pleasure welled up. Then her climax began and Greta came in a crescendo of screams.

"AAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" a sheer euphoria of screaming, "Lick me, lick my fucking cunt, you stuck up English bitch. OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHEEEE!!!"

Coming hard, a gush of pussy juice covered Olivia's already slick face. The intensity of her orgasm surprised even Greta as she cooed in the last waves of its pleasure. It was more than a day since she'd last cum, grinding her snatch into the big-titted cunt's face, and combined with the skill of her slave's new tongue, Greta had squirted more than she had for a very long time. Clearly learning her place, Olivia still lapped Greta's drenched sex frantically, wailing as she did so. In no rush to stop the pretty little girl's pain, Greta stroked her hair softly while she continued to lick, squeal and wiggle her cute little arse. But, regretfully, the toy had to be turned off or that pretty pussy would be damaged permanently. So, grabbing the bitch's hair, she threw her to the floor. Blind to it coming, Olivia had no time to brace herself, her head hitting the carpet with some force, her hips still writhing as the pain intensified. Standing and walking over the damp patch on the floor where her juices had fallen, Greta stood over the wriggling girl and knelt, her pussy slapping wetly on Olivia's belly button, to lean over her face. Her eyes were closed and so, to make her attend, Greta twisted a nipple hard. Her beautiful blue eyes opened to see a smiling Greta holding the little black box in her hand.

"My, my," Greta pantomimed surprise, "that was quite a performance. An expert cunt licker already! Now you have made me cum, would you like me turn off that hot toy inside you?"

Barely hearing what Greta said over the pain, Olivia did hear the last bit and immediately answered, desperate to get the evil object out of her.

"Yes, mistress," she wailed, "It hurts so much!"

"Well, as you did such a good job," Greta said, her dripping cunt juices pooling on Olivia's belly, "I suppose I could. As soon as you thank me."

"Thank you, mistress, thank you so much."

"What for?"

"For...for," the writhing girl hesitated, "for letting me lick your cunt."

"You are welcome, whore," Greta thoroughly enjoyed this psychological torture, "would you like to do it again sometime?"

"Yes, mistress, please, anytime. Please, mistress, let me lick your cunt just...just please..."

"Very good, sweetie, I will enjoy you lapping my cunt. So since you have been so good ..."

Twisting the girl's soft breast again to make her look up, she then very theatrically pressed the red button. Though off, the dildo was still very hot and Olivia continued to thrash about. After a minute or so she began to calm, Greta enjoying her last few writhing movements and groans. Putting down the box to roughly squeeze Olivia's tits, her talon fingers again dug into flesh.

"What do you s...?" she asked.

"Thank you, mistress," Olivia instantly interrupted despite heavily breathing, "thank you so much."

"You grateful little slut," Delightedly leaning in to force her tongue down Olivia's throat, Greta kissed her forcefully, pushing her head deep into the luxurious carpet and listening to her yelp as her nails scratched that soft tit flesh and her pussy rubbed Olivia's sopping stomach. After some minutes of such torment, Greta sat back on the girl's stomach, her hands reluctantly leaving those perky tits.

"Are you warm now, sweetie," Greta was tormenting, knowing her cunt would still be hot.

"Yes, mistress, thank you, mistress."

"Would you like me to pull the toy from your cunt?"

"Yes please, mistress."

"Very well," Greta stood, leaving a large glistening patch of vaginal juices on the girl's toned belly, "spread your legs nice and wide."

Olivia obeyed although her legs were already spread by the huge toy. Looking at the girl's pretty pleading face, she put the flat of a stiletto on her pelvis, just above the bulge of the dildo, and bent down to slowly tug at the exposed base. Olivia's tight lips seemed almost reluctant to let it go, so, pushing her foot down painfully, Greta then pulled, all her muscles straining, as hard as she could.

Her screams wavering breathlessly as the base came slowly from her cunt, Olivia's labia stretched so thin that even Greta thought they would tear. After thirty seconds of screaming, the widest part came out, the rest following immediately - and her scream intensified, a sound so shrill that even Greta who normally rejoiced in her victims' most agonising screams, found it a little off-putting. Looking at what she had pulled out, she saw why and smiled. The metallic surface had small but unmistakeable scraps of her cunt. Carefully not touching the still warm metal, she inspected the small specks of pink flesh dotting the shining toy. No wonder the feisty little bitch was screaming. Greta could only imagine her excruciating pain. If her cunt wasn't sensitive before, it would now be sheer agony if she was fucked in the next few days. Which of course she would be. But Greta wouldn't permanently damage a new slave. It would heal in time but until then she would be in serious pain and telling her how temporary it was would miss a perfect opportunity to break her spirit. Greta walked over to Olivia, her screams having died to a sobbing whimper.

"Look, baby," Greta held it for Olivia to see, "look at the bits of your cunt stuck all over your toy."

Seeing what Greta held, Olivia gasped and very nearly fainted. The thing was apparently covered in tiny scraps of meat. Since they had not been there when forced inside her, there was only one place they could have come from. She instinctively tried to close her legs but this caused more pain and so moved her hands to cover her sex. But the damage had been done and she had no idea how severe or permanent it was. Looking at the silver thing Greta twirled in front of her, she felt as if her whole vagina had been torn out. As she whimpered quietly on the floor, Greta continued to torment her.

"Well, well," Greta was enjoying herself, "next time we play this game you need to please me a little quicker or it will tear all your snatch out. Now what do you say now that I have pulled it out?"

"T...Thank...you mistress," Olivia sobbed.

Greta chuckled and placed the device back in its cabinet. Then she dressed herself as meticulously as she had undressed, pulled the chair back to the desk and sat down, totally ignoring the mewling girl in the centre of the room. After some minutes there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Greta said, rather less excited than previously, merely pointing Mehmet to Olivia lying on the carpet. Flashing her a brief look of unseen contempt, he nonetheless carefully picked Olivia up, holding her in outstretched arms. As he was about to leave, Greta stopped him.

"Mehmet," Greta was now looking at her computer, "bring her here, please." Coming to the desk, the Turk lowered her to eye level with the sitting Greta.

"Look at me, bitch," Greta said, glancing up from her screen as Olivia slowly turned her head to meet her gaze, "you have pleased me. And you will please me again. One way you will please me is to please those I lend you to. You will do everything you are told, do you understand?"

"Yes," Olivia limply nodded, "mistress."

Dismissing them with a nod, Greta returned to her screen. Using his feet to widen the open door, Mehmet strode off. He didn't know what had happened in that room but he did know a small trickle of blood was leaking from Olivia's pussy. Speeding up, he couldn't hide his fury as he thought about what could have happened, his mind swirling in rage and loyalty and his enjoyment of this job. So confusing. But his troubles did not compare to those of the girl he was now almost cradling.

After Mehmet left, Greta dialled a number and waited for answer.

"Hello there. She will be down in an hour. Oh, and she has a little surprise for you..."

Following the woman down a labyrinth of corridors was not easy. With two dildos in her holes, walking was difficult but Melissa still gamely struggled to keep up. Her blonde hair was stuck to her sweaty forehead since she had gone over 24 hours without her normal shower. But this was about as far from normal as it could get, her old life so distant it seemed only a dream.

"Quickly," came the command from far in front and Melissa half-ran just to catch up, the thought of disobeying not even occurring to her. Her heavy tracksuit weighed her down and unable to walk properly, she had to swing her legs from side to side in a strangely comical waddle. Then, much to her relief, the woman stopped at a door seemingly no different to those they'd passed. The occasional sound of screaming coming through those had chilled Melissa to the core. When the panting blonde caught up, the woman showed no tiredness at all. Pressing a seemingly innocuous stone, there was a click, a whir and the heavy wooden door opened to reveal a plain stone room.

"In."

Melissa walked to the middle and waited for further orders. There was little to see: a hose in the corner; a toilet with a plughole next to it; no furniture; a single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. All a far cry from the luxurious surroundings of the grand hall but she wasn't thinking of that. As the door slammed shut behind her, she turned to see the woman walking toward her.

"Remove your clothes," the woman said coldly, "or I will do it for you. You do not want that."

Melissa did not want to since the clothes gave at least an illusion of protection. But helpless, she reluctantly hooked her fingers beneath the sweater's heavy rim and pulled it up to reveal her gloriously toned midriff and then her ample bosom, hidden by a small black crop top. On pulling it over her head, a small gesture from the woman signalled her to drop it on the floor. After slipping off the flimsy pumps, she took off the tracksuit bottoms, to stand in small black hot pants and top.

"Everything," her stare didn't leave Melissa at all.

Melissa sighed, reaching for the bottom of her top and pulling it up. With nothing holding her breasts, they spilled down to bounce on her chest. But the woman was not interested in her beautiful body but her orders. When Melissa dropped her bottoms, she saw her tensing to keep the two dildos in, obviously afraid of the consequences if they fell. Walking over to the hose ...

"You can relax," she said, unwinding the hose, "those are not needed anymore."

On this, Melissa immediately relaxed her muscles. As both artificial cocks fell, she felt both free and strangely empty, relishing the welcome feeling for as long as possible. Which was little indeed.

"Go there," the woman snapped, pointing to the toilet, "Relieve yourself."

After readjusting to moving without things deep inside her, Melissa sat down. Her three weeks captivity had habituated her to very little privacy and she just ignored the woman as she relieved herself, sitting for as long as she could since the hose made no secret of the woman's intentions. After waiting some minutes to ensure Melissa had finished, she then spoke.

"Up. Bend over."

Knowing what was coming, Melissa bent over. A hand held a cheek apart, the hose pointed over her crack and puckered arsehole and she shrieked as a blast of cold water squirted up her chute, the dirty water running into the plug-hole. After satisfying herself she was clean, the woman then squirted icy water over her crack, Melissa's shocked shrieks expressing discomfort rather than pain. After cleaning her holes, the woman stood, hose still pointing at the girl.

"Stand," said with her usual sternness, "against the wall."

As Melissa backed against the wall, she confusedly felt like a condemned prisoner facing a firing squad. Focussed on the pointing hose, the confusion dissipated and she tensed for another ice cold blast. Which did not stop her squealing when it slammed into her belly. After doing her front from face to toes until she was clean, a quick gesture when it finished signalled her to turn and be blasted once more. Finished, she was left shivering and dripping, her blonde mane hanging lankly and sticking to her soft skin. But she had no time to warm up. Replacing the hose, the woman said

"Follow me," and turned to a stone wall. Melissa looked on bemused as she pushed a seemingly random stone, a section of wall suddenly sliding back and to the side. She couldn't see into the hole but since the woman went through, she had to follow. Behind her, the wall clicked shut, plunging her into darkness. When a light suddenly flicked on, she gasped, terrified by the dozens of torture instruments racked on the walls. The woman, however, stopped at an innocuous looking chain hanging from the ceiling and gathered up two manacles attached to the end.

"Over here," the woman had not reacted to Melissa's intake of horror, "quickly."

Walking forward gingerly, head hanging low, Melissa shuffled over, desperate to avoid the inevitable. To be in a place like this numbed her mind. Looking at the devices lining the walls, she wondered not only how much they would hurt but also whether she would get out alive.

"Put your arms out," oblivious to Melissa's continuing terror.

Taking both wrists in one well manicured hand, the woman pulled the chain down with the other until it was level with Melissa's outstretched arms. Clipping the manacles on her wrists, she ensured they were tight then let go. Yelping as her arms shot over her head, Melissa was suddenly and violently pulled up with her toes just off the ground, all her weight on her shoulders and manacles digging painfully into her wrists. The woman was totally unmoved by her pained moans.

"Someone will see you soon," walking away, she then half turned, "do as you are told. It is easier."

Walking back to the wall they had come through, she again put out her hand. As before a section opened and she seemed to hang a moment in mid air before disappearing. Then, on a click, the wall once again slid shut and the lights above Melissa flicked off. Plunged into darkness, she felt she had sensed something in the woman's voice. Sympathy? No, not quite, but something suggested that perhaps not everyone in this place was as evil as she had first thought. But that was pushed aside as she hung in the dark, wrists hurting and arms aching from her position. Only the clink of chains and foreboding memories of the surrounding torture room kept her company.

After several hours, Lucy had almost blanked out the beep, just appreciating the silence and the comfort of her new home, the mindlessness allowing her to forget the horrors of the last few days. Initially thinking about her current predicament, she later moved on to things she had thought about before this nightmare then to nothing at all. But this perverse idyll was about to end. On another beep, she glanced cursorily at the numbers, expecting only a brief look before again mindlessly whiling away the time. She gasped when she saw "64". The numbers hadn't been in any order, flitting wildly from single digits up into the 90s and so she had no warning hers was next. As a few women glanced round, curious that no-one came forward, Lucy stood.

Though she had seen many women leave, she panicked and for a second confusedly looked round for any clue as to where to go. Regaining her composure, she started for the door, striding to project confidence. At her approach, the door opened and she walked through. As it clunked shut and her eyes adjusted to the darker corridor, she heard a familiar and terrifying voice.

"Walk straight forward," a calm German accent said over a speakers, "then take the second right."

Lucy didn't hesitate for she knew Greta was capable of anything and so walked quickly, her eyes fixed on the right hand side, walking past one corridor before turning at the next, her number slip still clasped in her hand. She paused and was soon told what to do next.

"Go forward then take the stairs on the left then through the door and along the corridor."

Walking forward, Lucy climbed the staircase, all the while wondering how the two women who had previously led her through these corridors knew their way around such a labyrinth. And going up stairs in high heels was not easy. Forced to notice the stairs, she saw the stone steps becoming less uneven, more finished. On reaching the top, she pushed against a door - and entered something bizarrely normal, a brightly lit corridor more appropriate to a high rise office building with paintings on its whitewashed walls and floored with an expensive wooden laminate. Slightly stunned, Lucy walked down the corridor to an open door on her right. Looking in, she saw a heart-sinking sight.

"Hello," Greta smiled, "I trust you have been comfortable. Come in." and turned back to her computer.

Lucy slowed, desperate not to go in and face her tormentor but equally desperate not to piss off the crazy blonde woman. Caught between, she hesitated for a moment, wondering whether she had to knock before entering.

"I said come in!" Greta was still working at her computer but sounded more than a little impatient.

Walking in, Lucy's mouth dropped as she saw how luxurious the room was. She didn't know that just fifty minutes ago her best friend had been here, marvelling at the same things and the same woman. Had she known what had happened to Olivia, she might have tried to escape but there was nothing to see except luxurious appointments and the suited woman at the desk.

"Take a seat," not looking up from her laptop. Sitting in the chair in front of the desk, Lucy looked at the bony features of the woman who had captured them in that bar a few days ago, remembering her in her leather corset about to begin hour after hour of torture and rape. Every pain and humiliation this woman had made her suffer flooded back and she winced. But looking now, she barely recognised that person as the one working on a computer like a normal business woman. Indeed were it not for Lucy's own attire, this almost seemed a normal business meeting.

"So," Greta turned to look straight into Lucy's eyes, "how do you find your new surroundings?"

Lucy didn't quite know how to respond. Last time she had been expected to say 'mistress' and 'master'; was that still expected? And if she said "yes", did that consent to everything that had happened? She felt that agreeing she had been comfortable since leaving that dungeon would validate everything done to her. Yet though not wanting to give this evil woman any satisfaction, she couldn't return there. She flash remembered having to watch Holly being whipped and double penetrated and then the sight of the poor woman being thrashed with those huge bamboo sticks followed. Lucy was never going to be in that situation. Even if she was the one torturing those poor women, even her friends, she would prefer that to being on the receiving end.

"They're very nice," she said, then through gritted teeth, "mistress. Thank you."

"You are welcome but you need not call me mistress anymore. You are much better than the cunts you came with. They are worthless, you are not. Do you know why you were chosen?"

"No," Lucy said, flinching slightly at having her friends referred to as 'cunts'.

"Because I saw you could be a very good, high class whore. And that you have a natural aptitude for inflicting pain. Do you remember fucking that big-titted bitch while beating her fat udders?"

"Yes," Lucy hung her head in shame as she remembered what she had been forced to do to Holly.

"Do not be ashamed," Greta chuckled, "the snivelling cunt deserved it as you'll see in time. And her screaming as you paddled her was delightful. You obviously enjoyed it as well for you came very hard all over her face after. You would probably enjoy what is being done to her now even more."

As Greta described her past actions, Lucy held back a tear, knowing she was right. While pounding Holly's pussy, swinging the paddle hard into her friend's soft breasts, Lucy had indeed been highly aroused by her high-pitched screams, grinding her pussy into Holly's pretty face when she came. Lucy knew their relationship, if they ever escaped, would never be the same and, thinking about the terrible torment her friend could be suffering now, she felt immense sadness flood over her.

"It is alright," Greta continued, "you will now get the chance to inflict pain once again. I know you do not think you want to but soon you will enjoy it. I will give you some tips."

Lucy could only stare, her mind numb with the perversity of it. A woman who had kidnapped the three friends and horrifically tortured them in that dungeon, who had forced Lucy to cause a friend terrible pain, now spoke to her as if she was not only a human being but an accomplice. But so much had happened in the last few days that even this strange twist barely surprised her.

"The first thing you must always remember is that you do not have a choice. You may have been saved from the fate of your friends but you still belong to me. You are mine to command, to do with as I see fit. And if you disobey, you will go straight back to that dungeon. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Lucy replied quickly.

"Good," Greta almost smiled, "if you remember that, you will be fine. Now, you may be wondering how I expect you to torture women you have never met, who have never hurt you."

Lucy slowly nodded, an observing part of her still not believing this conversation was happening.

"Very simple. Find a reason to hate them. No matter who they are, convince yourself they deserve what you do to them. Whatever you think of, anything that works for you, use it. Understand?"

"Yes," she replied but she didn't really. How could she justify hurting an innocent woman, convince herself they deserved it? Yet she had no choice. She was out of the dungeon but Greta was making it clear she still did not control her actions. Depressing and daunting as it was, Lucy had to agree.

"Good. For instance, consider your one experience of your new role so far. When you were beating those big fat tits, your friend screaming while you fucked her, what were you thinking?"

Lucy could think of no answer and just stared open mouthed at Greta. How could she answer? She didn't know what she had been thinking. She'd been horny, the effects of that wicked chair having taken their toll. Still, she racked her brain for an answer. But she needn't have bothered.

"You do not know what you were thinking, do you?"

"No," she said sheepishly, expecting this revelation to be met with punishment.

"That is your inexperience," Greta said, her eyes still fixed on Lucy, "and that is why you still feel ashamed of what you did. If you had realised how much the cow deserved it, you would have made your peace with it. So that is what you must do in future. Now, are you ready to put in more work?"

"Yes," Lucy said, her eyes going slightly wide at the prospect of seeing more terrible things.

"Good," Greta said, standing up from her desk, "then follow me. We have a new American bitch. Our job is to train her to be an obedient slave. You will do exactly as you are told when you are told."

Walking round the desk, Greta gestured Lucy to stand and, not waiting, with her usual purposeful stride went out the door. As the teen rose, turned and followed, the door slammed shut behind her. Walking behind the blonde torturer, the prospect of future horrifying decisions made Lucy shiver.

Stepping back, Hasan admired his handiwork. The figure before him was unrecognisable as the thing he had dragged in an hour ago. He thought he'd done a great job and most would have agreed. Looking at her now, no-one would ever know what Holly had been through over the last few days. The teen looked every inch the gorgeous beauty schoolboys had been lusting over for years and, dressed as she was, they would have recognised her instantly. No longer in a suffocating latex prison but dressed in almost normal clothes - well, almost. The buxom babe was now dressed as an archetypal sexy schoolgirl even if, unlike most, she was not trying to be. On her small feet were soft canvas pumps with long white socks that rose to just below her knees. Halfway up her slender toned thigh was the bottom of a tartan skirt, shorter than Holly would have worn in her own school. Her torso though was far more modest; a grey sweater covering a crisp white shirt. Even through two layers, her assets were tantalising, the tight fitting jumper hugging her curves magnificently. Her collar was secured by a small tartan neckerchief that matched her skirt and completed the ensemble perfectly. Holly's pretty features only made her more alluring, her big brown eyes inadvertently fluttering seductively as she blankly stared straight ahead. Her hair was pulled back, allowing her beautiful face to be seen and the tight ponytail was replaced by two pigtails sprouting from the sides. Looking at the adorable teen, Hasan smiled at his creation.

Of course it wasn't just the finished product he enjoyed. Preparing the girl had been highly pleasurable and he had taken any opportunity to make it uncomfortable. He had begun by brandishing a large knife to terrify her, slapping her tits with the flat while smiling menacingly. Holly had been relieved when all he did was cut the latex off, ripping and tearing the suit until she was completely naked on the floor. He then had his fun; sucking milk, spanking her and eventually fucking those enormous tits until he'd covered her chest with cum. Silent the entire time, he then washed her, took out her piercings and applied minimal make up before dressing her. Now he was to hand this exquisite toy to someone else to play with.

"Follow me," Hasan said sternly. On these, his first words, he turned and walked out the door, not waiting for her to follow. Finally Holly was alone, standing in the middle of the room with her hands by her sides. But she knew she wouldn't be allowed to stay, using her legs properly for the first time in days, she meekly followed Hasan. On turning the corner, she saw Hasan way in front and, desperate to avoid punishment, jogged slightly to keep up with him. He strode at a blistering pace, twisting and turning in the maze of corridors, through heavy doors and up and down staircases. Trying to keep up, Holly alternated between a fast walk and a semi-jog, her arm across her chest with the latter to prevent her breasts bouncing up and down too much. She felt ridiculous in her schoolgirl outfit and pigtails but she tried not to think about it, concentrating instead just on keeping up with Hasan. After a few minutes she caught up with him as he stood next to a large dark wooden door, waiting for her to arrive and when she did, he checking to make sure everything was in order.

"Go," Hasan smiled, "enjoy, cunt."

Holly paused and stared at the door, terrified by what was inside. But she could not refuse and it would be good to get away from this sadistic bastard. She knew his last words would be a lie; she would never enjoy herself in this dreadful place. Reluctantly opening the heavy wooden door, she peered into the dark room beyond amd, with Hasan still leering at her, walked into the darkness.

"Come in," the voice was exotic sounding. Leaving the door's relative safety, Holly felt her way further into the room, still completely blind, jumping as the door slammed shut behind her. She continued feeling her way but the more she went, the more tentative she became and the more she questioned herself. So she began to slow, looking around for any clue as to what to do.

"Stop." When Holly stopped, a light turned on, blinding her. When she shielded her eyes, someone in the room found that amusing. After adjusting, she looked around. The room was a stone basement with her standing in a circle of blinding light, its sides shrouded in darkness. Two figures waited. One was an oriental woman who, though Holly didn't know it, had led Lucy to her new place. The woman was expressionless as if she wasn't surprised to see a beautiful schoolgirl standing in a room. The other could scarcely have been more different. Sitting in a large luxurious armchair was an enormous man with a ridiculous wide rimmed cowboy hat who looked at the cowering Holly with a large smile on his face. Stretching out his stiff arms, Jeremiah put his chubby hands together.

"Oh my," his slow applause reverberated, "what have we here?"

With his applause still echoing, Jeremiah stopped clapping to begin the arduous task of getting up, levering his panting mass of blubber very slowly out of the armchair and onto his snakeskin booted feet. Holly shuffled back as the lumbering American came toward her, beaming from ear to ear.

"Don't move away, baby," the man had a broad Texan drawl, "I want to see what I'm dealing with."

Holly looked down as his clicking boots drew nearer until she saw his pointed toes. Grabbing her chin, a chubby hand forced her to look at him. In his heeled boots he was taller than Holly and so he looked down into her big brown eyes, smiling broadly at the girl's pretty face. Greta had promised something special and she had not disappointed - the girl was glorious. Her pigtails made her look so cute and innocent that he couldn't wait for her beautiful face to be screaming in pain. As for the rest of her ... his eyes went her bulging chest. Excited, he very gently pressed his palm to her sweater, his thoughts centred on what lay beneath. Pushing against the fabric, he sighed. No doubt a small part of her had hoped he wouldn't use her as she had been used before. But of course he would. Pushing hard against her breast, her soft flesh offering no resistance, he spread his chubby fingers wide and squeezed down, squishing the pliant boob while looking into her eyes and chuckling.

"My, oh my," he was genuinely amazed, "you are very special indeed. Greta promised something extraordinary but in my wildest dreams I never thought she'd serve me something so ... delicious."

Holly just stared at him while he spoke of her like food he'd been served in a restaurant. Having been beaten, pierced, bound, raped in all holes and treated like dirt for the past few days, having a strange man fondle her breast through several layers of clothing was not much of a torture. But his words were far more cutting than his tit squeezing. To be promised to this man, given to him like an old book, was very distressing for a girl with no experience of people's inhumanity. But she knew light fondling would not be enough for this man and so tried to save her true distress for later.

"You're a very, very pretty little school girl, especially with those cute little pigtails. Lovely big eyes as well. But fuck me, those tits! Good god, they're huge! Are they all natural, sweetie?"

"Yes, master," Holly replied instantly.

"Holy fuck, we'll have to whip them out and have a good play with those puppies soon. But you don't have to call me master, baby. Your mistress has generously allowed me to use you. Of course as your superior you need to show respect so just call me 'Sir'. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly nodded.

"Good girl, but something else. I know your mistress has stopped you being a real person, just a worthless cunt. You are whatever your mistress wants. But I want you to be a little school girl for me so I'm going to treat you like that. But when I'm done with you, you'll go back to being the worthless, unhuman cunt your mistress wants. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly could barely take in what he said to her.

"Excellent. Now what's going to happen is that I'm going to torture you and make you scream at the top of your voice. I hope you'll be in so much pain, you'll wish the floor would open and swallow you up. But it won't. I'm going to hurt your whole body but most of all, I'm going to hurt those big fat tits until you wish I'd just cut them off and be done with it. While you're squealing and wailing like a pig, I'll be having the time of my life. I've been waiting a long time to get my hands on you and I'm going to enjoy every last second. And you will obey whatever I and my assistant ask you to do. No matter how much it hurts, you will obey without hesitation. Do you understand?"

Holly was shocked dumb at how blasé this man was about what he intended to do to her. And was as confused as she was terrified. She could understand this man wanting sex with her; a fat old man like him could never dream of getting a girl like her in the real world. And she could just about understand him wanting to tie her up and have rough sex, for she knew now that rape was about power as much as lust. But she couldn't understand why anyone would want to torture her. She had done nothing wrong to him, had no information to give and had to allow him to ... to fuck her. That she was to suffer severe pain for this odious old man's amusement was soul destroying but she couldn't stop it. So with a heavy heart and just before Jeremiah got angry, she responded.

"Yes, Sir."

"Terrific," Jeremiah smiled, pleased with how obedient the girl was, "you've clearly been trained very well. I hope when Greta's finished training my slave, she's just as obedient. I'm sure when I'm done, you'll make your mistress very happy. Oh, and there are cameras everywhere so if you misbehave your mistress will find out so obey. Now let's begin! Take off that sweater."

After giving the order, Jeremiah went back to his chair. Holly readied herself and as he sat down hooked her hands under the jumper. After being naked for so long, being clothed had been a relief even if she was dressed up like a middle aged man's wet dream in very tight clothing. She didn't want to be naked before this man or indeed anyone especially since once she was, the real torture would begin. But she had no choice. So she lifted her jumper as the two looked on.

"Quickly, girl, get your ass over here. I want to see you stripping nice and close, you little slut."

Holly walked forward, pulling the bottom of the jumper up over her breasts with her arms crossed, the incredibly tight fitting white linen shirt stretching as her arms went over her head and obscured her face. She kept looking forward while pulling the sweater up, her face slowly revealed to Jeremiah, her pigtails finally emerging from the neck. Holding the grey jumper, she stared at the smiling man in front of her. With outstretched hands, he beckoned her to him and she shuffled forward till her legs touched his. Taking the jumper, he smelled it, taking a long deep breath before handing it to the woman. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, collapsing her onto his lap and holding her with her arse on his knee while he looked at her chest.

"Come and sit on daddy's lap," Jeremiah said, "Look at those! That shirt barely holds them. I can't wait to get my hands on them. Now tell me sweetie, what was your name before you came here?"

"Holly, Sir," It was amazing to hear her own name even if she said it, for the first time in days.

"Holly. That's a very pretty name. And how old are you, Holly?"

"18, Sir."

"Wow, 18. Well, Holly," he said, "I know you've got magnificent titties. But I don't want to neglect the rest of that tight young 18 year old body. I mean, look at these legs."

Saying that, he ran his hand up Holly's leg and up under her skirt to her white panties. When he hooked his finger under the waistband, Holly took an intake of breath as she anticipated his chubby fingers rubbing her pussy. After being treated like a piece of dirt for the last few days, having this man talk to her like a child was both very strange and very perverted indeed. As he moved his hand up and down her leg, she couldn't decide what she preferred; to be talked down to like shit or patronised as she was now? He had said what he was going to do to her - that he would torture her terribly - yet he talked to her as if she were his niece at a wedding. Either way it was awful and the worst part was that she could do nothing about it. She was helpless and everybody knew it.

"And this," Jeremiah almost whispered while rubbing the outside of her knickers, "this pretty little pussy. Your mistress tells me you never had a cock inside you before coming here, is that true, Holly? And before you answer, know that if I think you're lying, you'll regret it."

"Yes, Sir," Holly seemed ashamed but was really remembering what she had lost in so short a time.

"Wowee. And you've been fucked here, haven't you?" He rubbed her pussy on the outside of her panties.

"Yes, Sir,"

"And have you cum?" Jeremiah asked, his rubbing quickening.

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh, Holly, you little slut, even after being abducted, raped and beaten you still came? Well!?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly was increasingly embarrassed by the questions he asked as she started to feel the effects of his gentle genital stimulation.

"I never knew the English were such whores," Jeremiah said, abruptly pulling his hand away from her crotch, "you don't deserve me rubbing your cunt then, do you, Holly?"

Holly resisted the not very strong urge to move to his hand. Despite what Jeremiah may have believed, a quick rub of her pussy would not get her dripping wet. Not that he gave any thought to whether Holly was horny or not. All he cared about was himself and enjoying the treasures this girl had to offer him. Greta had always treated him magnificently but she had really outdone herself this time. Though he knew Holly's real age, she still seemed young, looking at her; seeing her on the street, he would have thought her just 16. As he took his hand from her crotch, he looked from her angelic face to her bulging chest and began to salivate as he stared at her tits. Their outline was clearly visible through a tight fitting shirt clearly not made for such an ample chest, the buttons stretched almost to breaking point and the outline of her bra and pale skin visible through the thin linen. Keeping one hand round her waist, he took one of her soft round globes. Purring with delight, he roughly dug his nails into the soft flesh. Though her breasts gave to his touch, there was some resistance and he imagined how such firm young tits would look naked.

"I think it's time to get that shirt off," Jeremiah whipped his hand away from her breast and began to undo the tartan cravat, "untuck it from your skirt for me, sweetie."

Holly obliged, reaching around to untuck the fabric. It made little difference; the shirt was so short it barely reached her waistband. Then she watched Jeremiah try to undo her top button with just one finger. His fat fingers made it difficult and she watched with trepidation as he became increasingly frustrated. After trying once more, he grunted in frustration and clicked his fingers.

"You do it," he barked at the woman. "slowly!"

As the woman reached over, Holly turned to focus on the woman for the first time. Her vision was obscured as the elegant figure reached over her shoulder and daintily undid the top button of her shirt but she smelled a beautiful scent, intoxicating her and momentarily making her forget where she was. A low loud growl brought her back to earth and she looked back to see the third button on her shirt undone and the tops of her breasts, pushed up by her bra, just revealed. Jeremiah's eyes were fixed on the well manicured hands undoing the third and then the fourth, each time making him groan in pleasure and anticipation. When she undid the fifth button, Jeremiah stopped her and she immediately resumed her previous position. With the buttons undone to just below her chest, Holly saw as he did her gargantuan cleavage. The bra was only a plain white cushioned fabric, not a push up or a sexy lingerie, just a regulation bra any busty woman might wear. But it still didn't give her a normal cleavage because it was at least a cup size too small. It would have been small on her before but since her breasts had grown slightly when forced to lactate, it was now ludicrously tight. Hasan had forced her flesh into the cups, not caring how rough he was. But though the bra gave her a tight and hugely inviting cleavage, her breasts still spilled over the lip. Holly would never have shown herself like this and as the man's leer burned into her chest, she felt both shame and disgust.

"Jesus Christ," Jeremiah said, his jaw agape, "just look at those things! Can't even get a bra to hold them! I bet you always stride round with them on show don't you, you teasing little whore?"

"No, Sir," Holly told the truth as she was wary of his earlier threat.

"Lying bitch!" Jeremiah snapped, glaring in rage at Holly's face, "What did I say about lying to me?"

"I promise, Sir," Holly said panicked, "I'm not lying! I wouldn't! I never did...display myself."

Jeremiah's gaze was fixed on her eyes. She was telling he truth but he revelled in her fear and anguish at his accusations. Oh, he had struck gold with this bitch. A beautiful girl with a wonderful body who was embarrassed at her own attractiveness and covered up two of the finest assets he had seen on any woman either in the flesh or on screen. It didn't get much better for him than that and her desperation to avoid punishment made him all the more eager to mete it out.

"This from the bitch who comes as she's being raped?" his rage filled eyes glared at her, "You were only a virgin because you liked teasing men and now I'm going to put you in your place. And on top of that, you lie to me..."

"Sir, it's the truth I swea..."

"Silence!" Jeremiah barked, "You will speak when spoken to! I don't want to hear your pathetic whining lies. Now I said you'd pay for that and you will."

Holly swallowed hard on the urge to answer back. This man obviously had no desire for truth; all he wanted was to make her suffer and humiliate her. She suspected, correctly, that if she had said "yes", his ire would have been the same. She couldn't win with these people and would have to take whatever punishment they decided until she was rescued, a prospect that now seemed so far away. This man had come a long way to be here and knew her torturess well. Holly began to realise that this wasn't the work of a few sick individuals but a far more complex and altogether more terrifying network. As she came to this slow realisation, Jeremiah looked back at her straining breasts.

"Don't make me angry like that again, sweetie," his voice resumed its previous calm tone, "or this'll just be harder for you. You can't tease me with your tits because I can do whatever I want to you. Now, sit up straight, I've got to taste these babies."

After handing the woman his hat, Jeremiah showed surprising strength for such a fat man to lift Holly up under her arms. He was too short to lift her all the way but what he wanted was clear and so she helped him, placing her knees either side of his legs as he lowered her to straddle him, her crotch pressed against his burgeoning erection. Kneeling, she looked down as he grabbed the bottom of her breasts through her bra to push them even tighter together. Then, with outstretched tongue, he leant forward and put his face to her chest, moaning in pleasure as he tongued the top of her breasts, tasting a creamy femininity still preserved despite all her degradation. Eyes closed, his tongue dived between the furrow of her breasts to the other side, then moved back, pausing just as he reached the middle again. Giving both breasts a firm squeeze, he plunged down, saliva dripping from his open mouth, crushing her breasts to his face. She watched the grey-haired man pause then violently shake his head. His loud slurping noises as he motorboated her turned her stomach but she kept still and took it as best she could. After thirty seconds, Jeremiah came up for air.

"Oh Holly, those tits taste just as good as they look!" He bent down to run his face over her breasts then put her left breast into his mouth and bit down hard. She moaned in pain as he ground his teeth into her flesh. Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes to deal with the pain as he bit his away across her skin. As the pain diminished, she opened her eyes to look at a chuckling Jeremiah.

"We both got a taste then didn't we?" Jeremiah laughed, moving his eyes up to look Holly once again in the eye, "Me of that delicious tit meat. You just a small taster of some of the pain to come. But it'd be a shame for me to bite one tit and leave the other one out, wouldn't it?"

Jeremiah laughed loudly at his own joke then dived back down, Holly's screech showing that he was once again biting her breast. Behind him the woman looked on. She had seen many such scenes and knew far worse was coming for this poor girl. If she couldn't handle this then the next few hours would be unbearable. Still, though she had seen and would see far worse, she still felt sorry for a teen who was only 18 years old and had been snatched from the streets just a few days ago; now her tits were being nibbled by a lecherous old goat with much worse to come. Such a pretty girl had had her whole life ahead of her but now that would never happen; a lifetime of rape and torture awaited her. She knew this for her story was similar. As the mistress of a gangster and casino owner in Macau, Xia Lin as she had been called, was no stranger to seeing and receiving violence. When he had gifted her to Greta as a sign of good faith, she had found her new position far more privileged. No longer would she be struck or beaten whenever it took a man's fancy. And though she had escaped that life, she remembered it vividly and watching other women suffer something similar, often worse, was difficult. But her resolve was steely; she would never go back and no matter how much it hurt, she would stick to her duty. So she just watched as Jeremiah punished Holly.

"Ahhhhh," Jeremiah sighed as he released his teeth from Holly's breasts, "tastiest tits I've ever had. But now it's time to punish you for lying. Are you ready to learn your lesson, Holly?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly said with trepidation at what he might have in store.

"Good girl. Now let's get this shirt off," he said, before ripping the remaining few buttons on her shirt to send them popping around the room, "take it off and hand it to my lovely assistant."

Still kneeling, Holly tried to get her shirt off but it was so tight she struggled. Only by thrusting her breasts out at Jeremiah could she do so, her slow wriggle from the short sleeved shirt causing loud laughter beneath her. Once removed, she handed it to a beautifully manicured outstretched hand and resumed her previous position, her breasts receding from Jeremiah's smiling face.

"Look at Miss 'I don't flaunt my tits' shoving them into my face," he cackled, "then you have the gall to lie to me? There was me thinking you were a good, shy little girl; turns out you're a very naughty whore. Now stand up and lie down across this knee."

Creepily smiling, he patted his knee. Carefully not pushing her breasts into his face, Holly shuffled back until she almost had her feet on the floor. Seeing this, Jeremiah spread his legs wider and she very nearly fell into him but just managed to keep her balance. With her breasts still aching from his bites, Holly got to her feet and slowly positioned herself, unsure of how best to do it. Standing between his legs, she placed her hands on his huge thigh and slowly lowered herself. With her knees just off the floor, she stopped, hoping she had done enough.

"Get that ass higher!" Holly shuffled forward till, supported by her hands and feet as well as his thigh across her stomach, she perched with her arse in the air, her white panties clearly visible and her barely supported breasts seeming about to fall out. Jeremiah enjoyed her pert arse. Unlike most girls with tits like hers, this one had beautifully toned legs, not a hint of cellulite, and a firm round peachy behind. Moving her skirt to make her whole arse visible, he then stroked it firmly.

"Oooooh," Jeremiah cooed, "quite the ass you got, Holly. What a pleasant surprise. Most naturally big-titted bitches like you have fat legs and big wobbly asses. But this," he slapped her arse hard, "is very nice indeed. Now to your punishment. What is a good way to punish a naughty school girl?"

Holly very quietly sighed. She had been asked before about what punishment she wanted and it hadn't gone well. First she must understand what had been said to her. Though she had a thicker skin now, it still wasn't easy trying to understand how anybody could talk to another human being like that. She was a sweet and good natured young woman, not a 'naturally big-titted bitch'. Yet she knew she couldn't dwell on the emotional hurt he caused but had to prepare for the physical hurt. This time, choosing her own punishment would be easier. Her position made it clear what he wanted and so, with some trepidation, she ventured an answer.

"A spanking, Sir?" she said, her position diverting the sound to the ground.

"Speak up, girl!" Jeremiah barked, although he had heard exactly what she had said.

"A spanking, Sir?" Holly was much louder.

"Yes, what an excellent idea! A nice hard spanking to teach you not to lie. How many times do you think I should spank you, Holly?"

"Erm..." Holly desperately tried to think of an answer that would please him, "ten?"

"Ten!?" said in mock consternation, "You think ten spanks is enough for lying to me, girl?"

"No, Sir," Holly whimpered, "20?"

"That's more like it but I don't think it's enough. You've been such a naughty girl, I think 25 would be best, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly was resigned.

"Good. Now let's get these panties down whilst my assistant here grabs the paddle."

Tensing on the word "paddle", Holly had a flashback to her best friend slamming a dildo into her pussy and repeatedly crashing a paddle into her breasts. The betrayal she felt as her friend seemed to revel in hurting her was the worst moment of her life and the word brought the feeling rushing back. She barely noticed as he edged her panties down her thigh to expose her pale white arse.

"Oh Holly," Jeremiah vaguely sensed her discomfort, "you didn't think I'd only use my hand, did you? You need to be punished properly, girl, you need to learn your place. Ah, here it is."

The woman handed him the paddle and Jeremiah beamed at its weight. And the holes in the surface that would speed up his strikes. Teasing her with the instrument that was to torment her, he pushed down against her creamy arse then rubbed it from side to side, watching small circles of skin emerge through the paddle's holes. Lightly tapping the paddle against her bum, he leant in.

"Are you ready for your instructions, Holly?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. I'm going to strike your ass 25 times. You got that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Excellent. Now I want you to count the strokes. Let's try that." With barely any warning, Jeremiah swung the paddle into her arse with a loud smack. Holly shrieked loudly as he cackled loudly. When his laughter died down, he spoke again. "Stupid bitch! I told you to count the strokes. Lucky it was just a dress rehearsal. Let's try again."

"Yes, Sir," Holly whimpered, her arse still tingling from the first blow. No sooner did she finish than he crashed the paddle down hard into her already reddening cheeks. The stinging pain ripped across her rump but she had just enough composure to yell 'one' in a pain drenched squeal.

"There we go, that wasn't so hard was it? Now I think we're almost ready to begin."

Holly gasped at the first two blows not being part of her allotted punishment. This was the first time her arse had been specifically targeted for abuse other than when she had been sodomised but pain was pain, regardless of where it was. Her surprise was greeted with more derision.

"That's right, Holly," Jeremiah chuckled, "I had to be sure you understood before we began. Now if you lose count or fail to count, I'll have to start again. Remind me again why you're being punished."

"For lying, Sir," Holly gulped.

"Good."

Resting his hand on her back, Jeremiah took an exaggerated intake of breath to show he was about to begin then brought the paddle down across her peachy bottom. Listening intently, he heard her scream a number which, disappointingly, was 'one'. He had hoped the bitch would say 'two' so he could start again but maybe she was cleverer than he gave her credit for. Undeterred, he swung again, this time enjoying her scream far more. After the third blow, he was in rhythm and able to relax and enjoy it. Her echoing shrieks were like music and knowing he was causing it only increased his passion. He reached down and grabbed her bra strap as he delivered the fifth blow, lifting Holly up off the floor a little. He closed his eyes as he pulled back for the sixth strike and smiled gleefully as the most intense of her screamed numbers rang in his ears. Readying another strike, he was deliriously happy and knew it would only get better.

Holly's arse was on fire but she still screamed the number 'seven' as loudly as she could. Lifted up, the cups of her bra squashed her breasts and tears and drool fell slowly to the floor. All she had in her head between each blow was the next number so when the blow struck and pain hit, she merely screamed it out. On reaching ten, Holly was daunted at not even being halfway through but was equally sure she couldn't endure starting again. So as her arse throbbed with pain and she screamed at the blows, she focussed on keeping count. After thirteen blows, she was in a terrible state. Tears fell, drool dripped in long strands and her sobbing cries never stopped but she still counted.

"More than halfway through now, Holly," Jeremiah had to catch his breath, "does it hurt?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly got out through the tears, wary that she was forbidden to lie.

"Excellent," Jeremiah panted, "I'm not surprised either; your pretty ass is very red indeed."

Looking down, her previously white arse cheeks from the top of her thighs to just over the curve of her rump had been transformed into one continuous scarlet stripe which almost seemed painted on. Touching her skin, he felt the heat radiating off and, smiling widely, thought about the pain every one of his blows had caused. The prospect of increasing that pain was all he needed to continue.

"Are you ready for the rest, Holly?"

"Y...y...yes, Sir," Holly knew what she was agreeing to. Sure enough, a moment later her arse was on fire again, her piercing scream of 'fourteen' her only outlet. Each blow made the pain greater but she displayed a resolve she hadn't known she possessed just a few days ago.

While Holly lived in a pain filled hell, Jeremiah was having tremendous fun. And fun was the word. Spanking this beautiful teen was certainly arousing but it was also highly enjoyable. Not enjoyable in the playful sense of spanking a girl in the bedroom but because he enjoyed his power to inflict pain. Exercising this sadistic pleasure on this wet dream of a babe was pure heaven. If many would have seen her pain and wished to help her, Jeremiah had no such impulse. In his mind the girl he was spanking so mercilessly entirely deserved it. And so, after giving twenty lusty blows to her peachy arse, he was disappointed that the pathetic bitch had successfully managed to keep count.

"TTTTWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEENNNNNTTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY," Holly screamed desperately.

"That's right Holly," Jeremiah was very disappointed, "I've spanked your lovely ass twenty times. And you've counted every single one. You really are a good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly answered, her mind still entirely filled with the pain she was in.

"You're not going to be naughty anymore, are you?"

"No, Sir."

"You've learnt your lesson, haven't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"But there are still five spanks left," he enjoyed this little game, "what will we do about those?"

Despite the pain still raging on her arse, Holly's attention was drawn to the idea that she might be spared the last five blows of her punishment and the incredible pain it would cause. She was desperate to ask him to spare her this agony. Yet she was wary. Asking for mercy hadn't gone down well before and she dreaded to think what this man might do if he disapproved of her doing so. But as she thought this, she also thought how naïve it was to ask him to stop. She may as well ask to go back to her family and her old life. Sniffling slightly, she tried to prepare her answer.

"I don't know, Sir," she replied tentatively.

"Of course you don't," Jeremiah chuckled, "you're just a stupid little girl. Which is why you need to be disciplined. You were never beaten as a child were you?"

"No, Sir," Holly now knew exactly what the eventual outcome of this conversation would be.

"Exactly. That's the problem with young sluts like you. In my day children were beaten whenever they were naughty. But now all these liberal sissies complain even if you smack a child. And what have we got? A generation of whores like you who don't know their place. Do you agree, Holly?"

"Yes, Sir."

"So though you think you've learnt your lesson, I would be remiss not to fully punish you. It might only encourage you to be naughty again and we wouldn't want that. Isn't that true, Holly?"

"Yes, Sir," said a heavy hearted Holly, already steeling herself for the pain to come.

"I'm glad," He was pleased at how easily he could exert power over her, "stroke 21 incoming!"

Holly closed her eyes then screamed the number as the paddle crashed once more into her arse. Determined to make all these last blows count, Jeremiah released his grip on her bra, letting Holly slump back down. Using his left hand to rub her sore arse, he watched Holly look round, wondering whether she had to call out a number for this as well. Jeremiah looked at her and laughed at the worry in her eyes. For a second he thought about punishing her just to hurt her some more but decided against it. He had plenty of painful things in store for her and using too much energy too soon would only ruin his fun later. So he merely chuckled as he stroked his toy's arse cheeks and theatrically wound his arm up again. Holly's head sank back down so her chin once again brushed the top of her breasts before, inevitably, screaming at the top of her voice as she was pummelled by yet another blow. Jeremiah laughed heartily as he put all his strength into the next two blows. But it was time to end her punishment. He placed the paddle against her rump and purred gently. Grabbing her bra strap, he tugged her up hard. She made no attempt to right herself and so for a moment he just looked at her. Pulling her up squashed her tits even more and he thought they would pop out altogether. Her head hung down limply and though her face was obscured slightly by a pigtail, he could see tears. Looking at the picture of misery across his knee spurred him on. Swinging his arm back, he closed his eyes and put all his strength into one final blow.

"YEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!!" Jeremiah shouted as the paddle whistled through the air to crash into her buttocks with a sickening THWACK, swiftly followed by Holly's loudest scream of the day, a shriek so piercing the number was barely audible. The sound seemed to ring out forever and when it finally ended, was replaced immediately by sobbing. Jeremiah chuckled while she sobbed, proud of what he had inflicted on the girl. Looking at her red arse, he could see it almost throbbing, the beginning of inevitable bruising already starting to develop. Releasing his grip on her bra, she once again slumped forward still sobbing as he held out the paddle. When the woman took it from him, he leant forward in unconvincing concern.

"Oh there, there, Holly, your punishment's all over now. Come to daddy."

Wrapping his arms round Holly's waist, he lifted her up. While not standing on her own, she didn't make it difficult for him, supporting herself as best she could despite the pain. Waiting a moment, he then sat her down on his leg. Holly jumped so suddenly when her beaten arse touched the fabric of his trousers that her breasts almost popped completely free of her bra. Predictably showing no sympathy, Jeremiah this time forcefully sat her down. She yelped loudly, her sobbing becoming louder as pain again throbbed in her arse. Having tried to keep control all the way through, suddenly it all flooded out of her, the pain and the humiliation too much for a girl of her age and disposition to handle. Jeremiah was gleeful at her reaction. Like a father to an upset child, he pulled her to him, her head against his chest so he could smell her hair and pat her as if to comfort her. While doing this, he reached up and softly kneaded a breast.

"Don't cry, baby," he was amused by the irony of making her to sit on her painful behind while he pretended to comfort her, "if you're not naughty, I won't have to do it again. Will you be good?"

"Y...y...yes, S...sir...sir," Holly sobbed.

"Good girl. Now stop that pathetic sobbing, we need to get on."

Holly tried but couldn't, the emotion of the previous few days rushing out. Sat on this monster's knee with him 'comforting' her after what he had done to her while he continued to squeeze her breast, was so humiliating that she simply couldn't stop crying.

"I said, stop crying, you little whore," Jeremiah pulled hard on a pigtail to force her to look directly at him, "don't disobey me or I'll have to spank you all over again. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, Sir," Holly sniffled, the threat of another imminent spanking snapping her out of her trance.

"Good," Jeremiah said, relieved to hear the end of the girl's crying, "I don't want to play with a snivelling little bitch. Have you pulled yourself together now?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly said, sniffing the last few tears away and wiping her face.

"Excellent," He squeezing Holly's tit extra hard on this, "now slip those panties off for me."

Holly tried to recover herself, slightly ashamed at being so carried away and sobbing like that in front of this dreadful man. In all her suffering, she had always tried to control herself and not give these people the satisfaction of seeing her lose her cool. These people wanted to see her in pain and distressed but the effort of denying them the satisfaction took its toll. Taking a few breaths, she bent over and pulled her panties over her knees to fall at her ankles. While she wiggled her legs to drop them to the floor, Jeremiah undid her skirt clasp, pulling it away and tossing it to the side. Now only her bra protected her modesty but that wouldn't last long. When Jeremiah placed his hand gently against her slit, the girl gasped a little and her eyes went wide as he steadily began to rub.

"You like that, don't you? You love it because you're like all the others, a filthy nympho whore."

With that Jeremiah forced her face toward him to look straight into her eyes then clamped his lips on hers. Holly did nothing, merely sitting there and taking this as she had the rest of her ordeal. As he forced his tongue inside her, he forced a finger in her pussy, figuratively raping her in two holes. After a minute of moaning into her mouth and finger fucking her he stopped abruptly.

"But you're not here to have your pussy rubbed. Get up!" Shouting, Jeremiah abruptly took his hand away and bounced her off his knee. Holly wobbled slightly on her feet and when he spanked her hard, squealed and leapt forward, her red arse staring tantalisingly at her tormentor. Jeremiah couldn't resist kicking and sent her sprawling to the floor. As she lay there, he struggled to his feet.

"I said get up!" Jeremiah barked, hiding his pleasure at the girl's struggle to get up, "Don't disobey me. Stand up straight over there and push those tits out!"

Holly scrambled forward slightly on her hands and knees before getting to her feet. She slowly turned and looked at Jeremiah, the patronising father look having given way to a look of rage. Terrified at what he might do when angry given what he had already done when seemingly calm, Holly immediately stood up straight and, reluctantly, forced her chest out. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and tried not to notice Jeremiah leering at her bulging breasts.

"Don't make me shout at you again!" Jeremiah barked, "Cane, please."

Holly blinked when she heard this. The woman took a long thin wooden cane from behind the armchair and gave it to him, the menacing stick looking ludicrously small in his chubby fingers. Swishing the cane through the air, he edged towards her, smiling.

"Good," Jeremiah said, his eyes never leaving her overflowing chest, "tits out. Show them off to me, Holly, you should be proud of those puppies."

Jeremiah knew that even if Holly had once been proud of her mammoth breasts, she wasn't anymore. He knew Greta well and was certain she had tortured Holly's big tits something fierce, her bruises evidence enough of that. Stretching the cane out, he ran it across her cleavage and his own bite marks. The spanking had been an interesting and highly enjoyable sideshow but he had really come for this. That he couldn't do in regular society what he was about to do here was, in his opinion, a travesty. He saw so many women who deserved exactly this treatment, stuck up self important bitches who thought they owned the world. When he was growing up, women had known their place, having tea on the table when their husbands came home and spreading their legs when they were told. He remembered vividly his grandfather telling him, about how women in his day knew their place but that now they had forgotten their role was to please and look after men. That was fifty years ago and he shuddered to think what his grandfather would now make of how bitches like this one carried on. The old man would be turning in his grave. Running the cane over the bountiful breasts of this helpless girl, it didn't matter one iota whether she was one of these women or not; to him she represented everything wrong with modern women. And he was about to punish her for it.

"Right, Holly," Jeremiah said, making his point by bringing the cane down on top of her breast, "that's the preamble done with. Now you know how to behave, we can have some fun. Before we take that bra off so I can see those tits in all their glory, let me tell you a few things about biology."

Once again, Jeremiah swished the cane through the air, harder this time, against Holly's chest. She let out a squeak of pain, nothing more, as a red stripe appeared across her pale skin. As she watched him turn slightly to one side she sighed. Knowing he was going to hurt her was bad enough but listening to him was just as bad. But she had to listen to him as he rattled off some senseless drivel, no doubt punctuated by the occasional blow from the cane. Being talked down to, belittled, humiliated and degraded was almost, though not quite, as bad as the pain, rape and abuse. She was an intelligent young woman and destined for a bright future yet she was utterly beholden to the whim of this psychopath. All she could do was just stand and endure.

"I imagine you don't know why men like girls with big tits, do you, Holly?" Jeremiah paced in front of her, the cane held ready to lash out at any moment.

"No, Sir," Holly replied obediently, knowing that he wanted her to behave like a dim thing.

"Of course you don't," Jeremiah said, flicking the cane hard again onto her breasts, "after all you are just a stupid girl. But men have come up with a number of theories. You see, though titties are great fun to play with, they do serve a purpose. Do you know what that purpose is, Holly?"

"For...for feeding babies, Sir," Holly was unsure whether she was supposed to answer correctly.

"Good girl," Jeremiah patronisingly flicked the cane against her breasts for no apparent reason, "for feeding babies. But then you would know that, wouldn't you! Now men are programmed to pass on as many of their genes and make sure as many of their offspring survive as possible. And because tits have a role in feeding babies, men are very interested in them. One theory is that big tits mean you've got access to food. Do you know why they might think that?"

"No, Sir," Holly concealed how irritated she was by this and then squeaked with pain again as another stripe was laid across her chest.

"Well, you see these gigantic mounds on your chest Holly?" He accentuated this by bringing the cane down twice hard on each breast.

"Yessssssss, Sir," Holly said through gritted teeth.

"Look at them! What are they made of?"

Holly looked down at her breasts, the tops already criss-crossed with tiny red lines where the cane had hit her, bruises and bite marks all over the surface. For the first time, she properly looked at herself, the evidence of her tortures staring right back at her. Each mark on her otherwise flawless skin had Greta's signature on it. Holly wondered if she would ever be able to look at herself in the mirror without remembering the awful tortures she had suffered. Still, she couldn't dwell too long on the future when she had to get through the present.

"Sir," she stuttered, "they're made of fat, Sir."

"That's right," Jeremiah flicked the cane against Holly's toned stomach this time, "big fat tits. Those wobbling lumps are just big sacks of fat. And for cavemen fat meant plenty of food. So if a cave bitch had big tits like you that meant they'd have plenty of food to feed a baby. Isn't that interesting?"

"Yes, Sir. Eeeeeeeek!" Another cane strike to her sumptuous bosom.

"So that's one theory. There's another one, would you like to hear that one as well?"

"Yes, Sir," came the familiar reply.

"Well, some people think that back in the Stone Age men thought big tits meant more milk, and more milk would make a baby more likely to survive. So if you had those ridiculously big knockers back then, you'd be very popular, men mounting you left, right and centre. Of course, that isn't quite how it works. Even flat chested bitches can produce plenty of milk to feed a hungry growing baby. Do you know how much milk you can squirt out, Holly?"

"No, Sir," she replied crestfallen, now knowing where this exchange was inevitably leading.

"Well, before I tell you why I like big tits, I think we should find out," As he strode forward, he dropped the cane and raised his hands to her breasts, "now let's unleash those beauties."

Jeremiah had been waiting for this ever since he had planned coming back to Germany, even more so on seeing this vision of beauty in front of him. Now it was time to see the ultimate prize. He had one last look at her breasts in their fabric prison, pushed out obscenely by her ill fitting bra, and with some trepidation, reached round her body to her bra strap. Her tits looked so good he was certain they could not live up to their promise. He had an awful vision of undoing this bra and her tits sagging out to hang down by her navel. The closer it got, the more anxious he became about being in for a major disappointment, a disappointment he would punish brutally and severely. Reaching all the way round, he hugged her tightly to him, the feeling of her breasts against him magical. His tongue stuck out as he fiddled with the clasp, occasionally flicking her nose. Finally undoing it, he then stepped back, the bra so tight the cups remained in place, obscuring her nipples. He looked at her, standing almost entirely naked, and nervously prepared for impending disappointment.

"Hands by your sides, wriggle those tits free, Holly, there's a good girl."

Holly paused to wonder what he meant by that. One look at his rage filled face told her not to wait too long. Still unsure of what to do, Holly began to sway slightly from side to side and felt the straps at the back slapping against her as she continued to wriggle her shoulders to and fro. Looking up, she saw the leering drooling face of her tormentor just staring at her chest so she sped up since she was obviously doing it right. Slowly the shoulder straps slid down her arms and though feeling like a cheap stripper in a sleazy bar, she kept shaking. Jeremiah watched mesmerised as with every centimetre the straps moved, Holly's tits began to jiggle more and more. Eyes fixed on her chest, his mouth dropped open as the cups of her bra slowly fell away to reveal two large light coloured nipples atop the most perfect pair of breasts he had ever seen in his life.

"Jesus Christ," he gasped, mouth agape and eyes wide.

Jeremiah didn't care what Holly did now for as the bra fell to the floor, he was transfixed. All his fears disappeared when her magnificent globes were revealed. These were breasts as perfectly symmetrical as they were gigantic, each massive globe sitting high on her chest without a hint of sag, perfectly round and just begging to be squeezed. The pale untanned skin was covered in bruises but this didn't detract from their beauty. His eyes drank in every inch of her sumptuous mounds, from the gentle slope at the top to the large pale nipples adorning each jiggling tit. And Holly continued to sway hypnotically, her heavy tits wobbling tantalisingly from side to side.

"Stand still," Jeremiah said, his eyes not moving as if glued to her chest. Greta had promised him something special to play with but this time she had really outdone herself. He had seen plenty of tits in his time. He'd even had a chance to play with them, both with and without their owner's consent. But these were something else entirely. These were the two most perfect things he had ever laid eyes upon. He reached out a chubby fingered hand and lightly, delicately, brushed it against the soft skin of one breast. Purring with delight, he stretched out his fingers and softly squeezed the yielding flesh. Holly stood obediently still as he sank his fingers into her breasts, at once soft and inviting as well as youthfully firm. He shuffled forward slightly and raised his other hand, placing both beneath her breasts. As he lifted them up slightly, he was struck by how heavy they were, great sacks of joy delivered from heaven. He pushed upwards until he couldn't push anymore and then quickly took his hands away, watching in wonder as her tits bounced and jiggled. He repeated this several times, each time chuckling with delight at the sight. Then, with the flat of his hands, he bounced her tits first up and down then side to side, playing with them like a cat would with a ball of string. Next he gripped as much of each breast as he could and squeezed hard, the supple flesh so delightfully pliant in his hands. It must have been at least three whole minutes after she had revealed her breasts that Jeremiah finally snapped out of his trance like state.

"Oh Holly," Jeremiah said, his hands not leaving her tits, "your mistress has really outdone herself this time. She always treats me well but giving me these to play with really spoils me. I think these might be the best pair of tits I've ever seen!"

Holly didn't react to Jeremiah's words or actions since she was stealing herself for the pain to come. Compared to what she had endured, having her breasts fondled was nothing; unwanted, creepy and sickening but mercifully not very painful. Of course, when his stumpy fingers closed on a bruised part of her breast, it was uncomfortable but nothing she could not handle. But she knew that just fondling her breasts would not be enough and though she tried not to dwell on it, the prospect of imminent pain always loomed. Suddenly Jeremiah's fingers which had been gently teasing her nipples to erection, twisted the sensitive nubs hard. Holly gasped as pain again tore into her breasts.

"You ungrateful cunt!" Jeremiah barked, taking Holly by surprise.

"Sir..."she stammered in response, but was cut off by another sharp twist of her nipple.

"I pay you a fucking compliment and you don't even thank me?" came the angry response.

"Sorry, Sir," a panicked Holly blurted out, "thank you, Sir, thank you."

"Why should I have to prompt you to show manners, you little bitch?" Jeremiah again violently twisted Holly's nipples, "I thought you said you would be a good girl?"

"Sorry, Sir," Holly said frantically, "I will be good Sir, I promise, please Sir."

"You promised to be good before but that's twice you've been very naughty," Jeremiah's anger was replaced by patronising disappointment, "I can't let you get away with such naughtiness, can I?"

"No, Sir," Holly said meekly, hanging her head.

"Do you like being punished, Holly?" Taking his hands from her breasts, Jeremiah put them on her bright red arse. Holly gasped then squealed as he gripped hard, digging his fingers into her buttocks.

"No, Siiiiirrrrrrr," she whined, pushing her hips forward in an attempt to escape him.

"Then why do you keep being naughty?" Jeremiah continued to squeeze her arse, pulling the girl into him so her breasts pressed against her chest, "Or are you just too stupid to realize?"

"Yesssss, Sirrrrrr," Holly barely registered the ignominy of calling herself stupid due to the pain.

"I thought that might be the case," Jeremiah's hands left Holly's arse, much to her relief, and moved back to caressing her breasts, "too much effort growing these puppies I think. Still, I'm glad you did. I can't very well play with your brain, can I?"

"No, Sir," she said despondently.

"That's the problem with women these days," Jeremiah said, his hands still fondling Holly's tits absentmindedly, "they spend too much time trying to be intellectual instead of doing what they should be doing; pleasing men. I'm glad you haven't done that, Holly. Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Sir," Holly said, trying to not let his mocking tone get to her.

"Women nowadays think they're equal for some reason. Can I ask you a question, Holly?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you feel equal?"

"No, Sir," she answered reluctantly but truthfully.

"No, Sir," Jeremiah parroted, savouring the words, "I'm very glad to hear you say that. It means I'm doing a good job. Because you're not equal. Not by a long way. You're just a dumb pathetic little bitch with a pretty face and big tits, aren't you?"

"Y...Yes, Sir," Holly replied, taken aback by how anyone could reduce another to just bits.

"That's all you are. And now you're exactly where you belong; naked and waiting to please me by being tortured. That's why you exist. That's why you've got that pretty face, those nice long legs, tight little arse, pretty pink cunt and those big fat titties. All so I'll enjoy playing with you more."

Holy just stared blankly straight ahead during Jeremiah's rant, only trying to listen to places where she might be expected to respond. But she did hear what Jeremiah was saying. She was a fiercely intelligent girl, a firm believer that men and women were equal and that she was far more than her physical attributes. Yet despite how horrible what he had said was, Holly had to think he was right. What she had been outside didn't matter here; here she was only "tits, ass, and cunt" as Greta put it. Her body was only a plaything for these monsters and her mind didn't matter at all. And as a toy, she could be discarded at any moment. As if reading her mind, Jeremiah spoke.

"That's right, Holly," one hand migrated to her cheek, "you're a pathetic, worthless cunt. You only exist to please me. The quicker you realise that the quicker you can settle into your new life. Who knows, maybe one day you'll enjoy having your tits whipped and your ass spanked!"

He laughed heartily at his little joke, confident she wouldn't discover some deep rooted masochism anytime soon. Taking time to calm down, he squeezed her tits like stress balls while he laughed.

"Of course it doesn't matter if you do enjoy it," he looked directly into Holly's big brown eyes, "it will happen even if you don't. In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't enjoy it. I'd be very surprised if you did though with what I've got in mind. You see, we all have our little fetishes. I bet you do too, you little whore. Well, my little fetish, what really gets me off, is making pretty girls like you scream. And not scream in ecstasy, oh no. I like making them scream in pain. There's something about the power, the sounds and the sights of torturing a gorgeous babe that gets my juices flowing. And if they got tits like you, well, that's just heaven on earth."

Looking into his wrinkled face, confusion and fear flooded her mind. She had been confused for the past few days but Jeremiah saying it bought it back; she simply couldn't understand anyone finding pleasure in hurting others. She knew people had strange fetishes, bondage and the like, but that was consensual. That people actually enjoyed inflicting pain on a non-consenting victim outside of horror films was unbelievable. In her worst nightmares being such a victim was equally unimaginable. Her fear was more obvious; she was scared because soon she would be in terrible pain.

"Right, Holly," Jeremiah took his hands off her tits and clapped them together, "enough chatter. I think it's time for another punishment, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly's hands instinctively moved to her bottom as if that would protect it.

"Oh no," Jeremiah said, holding a hand out behind him for the implement, "as much as I'd like to spank you, I will give your ass a rest. Since they're displayed so beautifully, I thought it time to have some fun with those big ass titties. Paddle!"

Watching the woman pass the paddle that had already caused so much agony, Holly began to shake, anticipating the coming pain he would cause. Holding the paddle, he relished her fear. Seeing a chance to mentally torment her, he raised it quickly and laughed when she flinched.

"Stay still, Holly," he chuckled, "if you didn't want to be punished, you shouldn't have been so naughty. Can you stand and be brave for me?"

"Yes, Sir," her voice was unsteady.

"You better stay still. If you flinch, try to move out the way or fall over then I'll have to tie you up, and you won't like that. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," Jeremiah put the paddle against the side of her breast and tapped it lightly, "now don't worry, this time you don't have to count. I haven't decided how many times to hit your tits so I'll stop when I think you've been punished enough. Just concentrate on screaming. You ready?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Show me you're ready. Ask me to punish you."

"Sir," Holly said, trying to find the right words, "please punish me, Sir."

"If you insist," chuckling, he tapped the paddle on the side of Holly's right breast, each time pulling it further back and striking harder. When the wood slapping her skin became audible, he hit her three more times then theatrically pulled back his arm to swing with all his might. Its loud THWACK crashing into her tit was continued by Holly's shriek, her breasts jiggling with mesmerizing violence before slowly coming to a rest. Smiling at the beautiful sound of her pain, he hit her again in the same spot, the sound of this blow seeming to catch up with the still ringing echo of the first. After three hefty slaps, the side of Holly's tit began to turn pink. Keen not to let any part of Holly's breasts off the hook, he switched his hold to a backhand grip then unleashed three ferocious strikes to the side of her left tit. As her squeals became high-pitched shrieks, Jeremiah paused to savour them.

"Oh boy," he was clearly enjoying himself, "I could listen to that all day. I can't wait to get you really screaming. Does it hurt, Holly?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly was slightly breathless.

"Excellent," beaming, he ran the paddle across her ample chest, "When I'm finished, you won't believe how much your tits hurt. A man loves nothing more than a pair of big all-natural boobies."

Taking another horizontal swipe at her tits, this time he just caught her left nipple with the edge of the panel. Holly howled, her swollen nipples so sensitive that even a light touch would have hurt. And there was nothing light about Jeremiah's attentions.

"Which means for me," he said, this time swinging the paddle down hard on the top of her right breast, "there's nothing better than torturing some monster tits." To illustrate this, he crashed an uppercut full onto the underside of a soft tit, causing Holly to off-balance and step back to steady herself. Quickly resuming position, she hoped he wouldn't notice. "Stand! Fucking! Still!" each word punctuated by slapping the paddle hard into Holly's breasts, "If I have to tie you up to be punished, I won't be happy. Have you got that, you dumb whore?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly whimpered, "Sorry, Sir."

"You will be," he said, crashing another backhand into Holly's nipple, "now remind me what I was saying before you disobeyed me." Holly froze, her mind whirring. She had been barely listening, all her energy going into not being knocked over by the force of the blows. She racked her brain for what he had been rambling about. "Quickly, cunt!" Jeremiah shouted, slamming the paddle down onto the top of her breast again.

Even as she squealed, Holly thought frantically. He had shouted at her when she had lost balance but what had he said before it? He'd been talking about how much pain she'd be in, how much men loved breasts. Jeremiah held the paddle and just as he was about to strike, it came to her.

"Sir," she shouted, stopping the paddle for a moment, "you were talking about torturing...t..."

Desperate to get the answer, Holly hadn't thought about what she was saying until it came out of her mouth, causing her to tail off and hang her head in shame. She couldn't bring herself to complete the sentence and expected to get in trouble for it.

"Well remembered," he said, before swinging the paddle once more into her chest, "and I'll forgive you for not finishing your sentence, baby. I know it's hard for you English girls to talk about stuff like that, especially when you know it's your tits I'll be torturing!"

Taking a slight step to the left, he turned side-on then brought the paddle all the way back and slammed it full into her chest. Holly could do nothing about this, not even scream as all the air was knocked out of her. When her legs gave way, she stumbled back before tumbling to the floor. Watching her lying on the floor and gasping, desperately trying to breathe, watching her tits rise up and down as she fought for air, her struggles were nothing but an amusement for him. Even lying down, her breasts still looked huge being simply too big for gravity to have much effect. Before Holly could get up, he loomed over her with the paddle still clutched menacingly in his hand.

"Well, well, well," he stared down at his prone victim, "Didn't I tell you to stay on your feet?"

"Y...y...yes, S...Sir," Holly wheezed, her breath only just returning.

"So what are you doing lying on the floor?"

"I...I..."

"Shut up, you stupid little slut," Jeremiah barked before bending down as much as he could to stare into her face "You had your chance to talk and you ruined it. You are a worthless, useless little whore and you need to be treated properly. And since you can't be trusted to do as you're told, you'll have to be tied up. Fetch the equipment!"

Jeremiah shouted this last straight into Holly's face but it was clearly not meant for her. In the distance, Holly heard heels coming closer and out the corner of her eye she saw the woman confidently stride past her. Holly had been bound before and found it agonising, so being bound again was terrifying. But as usual she had no choice. She could only stare straight into the eyes of her tormentor as he swung his arm like a scythe to cannon into the soft flesh of her breast, screaming as blow after blow slammed into her tits. Jeremiah worked up a tennis-like rhythm with forehand and backhand strokes to ensure each breast was given equally brutal attention. Amidst the deafening combination of wood slapping against flesh, Holly's screams and Jeremiah's roars of pleasure and anger, the sound of her next torture device being brought over was quite lost. But the Asian woman didn't seem to care as she wheeled the frightening looking apparatus into position behind Jeremiah who was still savagely beating Holly's tits. The exertion was effecting him for she saw a bead of sweat drip from his grey hair straight onto the girl's face. Her initial job done, she just stood and watched, knowing the assault's ferocity would diminish as he tired. Sure enough, after a few more seconds, he stopped swinging the paddle and just stood over the weeping babe, panting.

"Wow!" Jeremiah was breathing heavily, "That was some goddam beautiful screaming. I'd save the tears though if I were you, baby. We've barely started yet. Get up."

Holly sniffled, tears streaming down her face. Every part of her felt on fire, her beaten arse rubbed on the abrasive stone floor when she moved and her breasts screamed in pain. Jeremiah had gone at them savagely, making the outer side of her breasts an intense crimson. As she flopped around, Jeremiah tucked the paddle into his waistband and bent down again. Reaching for her tits, he grabbed them as hard as he could and then with the strength of a man in much better shape, pulled up. Squealing like a pig as she was yanked up by her tits, Holly took almost her whole weight on her sensitive globes. Holly took care of herself and so she weighed relatively little for her size but the American still grunted at the considerable effort needed to lift her. His fingers digging deep into her flesh caused her much pain but finally she was high enough to use her feet and slowly but surely he hauled her into a standing position. Needing a break after his efforts, Jeremiah pulled her to him, savouring her feminine smell while regaining his breath to speak again.

"Get your ass over there," Jeremiah pushed Holly off and pointed behind, "and do as you're told."

With that he returned to the chair, to rest until everything was set up. Holly waited a moment and brought her hands up to try and comfort her throbbing breasts and then, not wanting trouble, turned. Although she had never seen anything like it before, the sight terrified her. Five metres away was a what looked like a sinister jungle gym with three thick horizontal metal bars operated by a series of pulleys. As the Asian woman beckoned her over, Holly slowly moved toward the frame, each step revealing more if its workings. Each bar was about four inches in diameter, about six feet wide and attached to cogs at either end mounted on toothed pillars. Looking at the lever, Holly could see each bar's height could be adjusted by cranking it up or down these pillars. At the base she could see each of the bars was also mounted on sliders, allowing them to be pulled either forward or backwards, meaning the three bars could be in adjusted almost infinitely. At the ends of each bar Holly could see what were clearly cuffs, leaving nothing to the imagination regarding its purpose.

"Hands off your tits," the woman said impassively, "and come here."

Dropping her hands, Holly walked gingerly to the rear of the machine. As she did, the woman picked up a long length of white nylon rope. Holly looked at where she had got the rope and saw other items but before she could identify them, she felt a hand on her shoulder. With the woman's long nails draped almost round her neck, Holly was led back to a bar almost level with her crotch.

"Stay." Holly obeyed as the woman went to the side and cranked a lever, raising the bar at her thighs to below her navel. The mechanical cranking only added to the sinister atmosphere. Satisfied, the woman moved behind her, pushing her up to the bar and bending her over it. Holly didn't offer any resistance, passively allowing herself to be moved. After adjusting her position, mostly to further spread her legs, the next thing Holly felt was the rope passing over her back, then round the bar and between her legs. The woman tied it tightly around her upper thigh, first one and then the other, binding Holly to the frame. In a minute and with minimal effort, the woman had bound her so securely that even the most violent struggle would not loosen the bonds.

"Spread your legs." As Holly shuffled her legs apart, the woman ran her hand down the inside of Holly's thigh to her ankle and pulled a cuff attached to some thick elastic from the frame's base. She cuffed an ankle then let go, the elastic pulling Holly's leg hard sideways as it contracted. After the other leg was also cuffed, her legs were now pulled hard in opposite directions and she had to squeeze hard to keep somewhat comfortable. With legs spread wide and bonds making her lean slightly forward, both her holes were fully displayed. Holly was sure this wasn't a coincidence.

"Lean forward and don't move." The woman's voice still betrayed no emotion but Holly preferred her orders to Jeremiah's so she leaned forward. With no support for her body, she knew this would quickly become painful but she needn't have worried. Head down, pigtails brushing the side of her face, she could only hear another bar being moved into position above her shoulders and down across her upper back. Heels clicked on the floor as the woman came round to her front. Pulling her right arm up and stretching it back along the bar, her wrist was then tightly bound with more rope followed by her elbow. After her other arm was done likewise, Holly could only move her head but, hanging limply, she just looked down. And saw a third bar moved below her, its height adjusted to just inches from the ground below her midriff. As she still saw the woman's pedicured toes, when she heard more footsteps, there was only one person it could be. Holly's heart sank.

"Oh wow!" he exclaimed as Holly kept her gaze averted, "You won't be going anywhere soon, will you, honey. Let's see that pretty face."

Before Holly could raise her head to look at him, a hand pulled her pigtails to jerk her head back. Quickly a leather strap was placed round her forehead and connected to the bar at her shoulders with metal hooks on the ends. With her head forced forward, she could only look at Jeremiah or, more accurately, since he had taken off both his saturated jacket and shirt, at his grotesque hairy stomach just inches from her face. Which a wrinkled hand gently stroked.

"There we go," he said, his savage anger when beating her on the floor seemingly gone, "such a cutie. I can see you're bound up nice and tight. Can you move at all?"

"No, Sir," Holly said, a cursory attempt to wriggle confirming she was indeed completely bound.

"You can't even jiggle those big fat tits?"

"No, Sir."

"Oh, that's a shame," his face was almost level with Holly's, "but I wouldn't worry, honey. They'll soon be jiggling plenty all by themselves. You haven't been a very good girl, have you, Holly?"

"No, Sir," Holly said, just waiting for the next punishment to be announced.

"No, not a very good girl at all. In fact, you've been very naughty. But I know it wasn't all your fault. You see, I forgot you're just a little slut, aren't you, honey? A filthy teenage whore, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly said, the innocence she'd had now having completely disappeared.

"Yes, Sir, indeed. So because you're a dirty ho, I'll reward you. Now I'd love to fuck your slutty cunt myself; maybe I will later but I haven't finished punishing you. So someone else has to fuck you."

With this, he moved to reveal the woman who had bound Holly facing away, having discarded her black robe to show her almost naked rear, her olive skin covered only by a thin leather thong - and dozens of scars. Holly gasped as she looked at the criss-crossing patterns on the woman's back which were well healed but had been very deep. She knew instinctively a whip had caused them, wielded by someone who didn't care about the pain and permanent damage caused. Holly's bondage made her shudder more mental than physical, as she imagined how much pain this woman had endured and, identifying with her, how much she might have to suffer herself.

"Wait!" Jeremiah said, seeing Holly's horror, "Let her see your scars. You see how deep they are? Just imagine how painful that must have been. But that's what happens when you whores are naughty. Are you going to be a good girl now?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly said frantically, unable to take her eyes off the woman's scarred back.

"That's good to hear," Jeremiah said, gleefully drinking in her fear, "because it'd be shame if I had to do that to your beautiful young skin. Shame for you, I mean. I'd have a fantastic time! Just think how much you'd scream as I tore into your flesh. Mmmmm!"

Holly whimpered, knowing it was the truth. This monster would enjoy permanently disfiguring a woman and she was now terrified he would do exactly that. But she was also thinking about the woman. She had assumed that this woman, like the three sadists in the basement or this fat troll, just enjoyed others' suffering. But this woman had once been in her position and yet had gained a position of relative power. Maybe, just maybe, if she behaved herself, she might escape this world of pain. While thinking this, Jeremiah once again loomed into sight, his wrinkled face right up to hers.

"Of course, you'll never be like her. She no longer gets whipped, tortured or raped. Your mistress employs her as a servant whereas you'll always be a slave. You're going to be a pain slut forever, suffering torture after torture, rape after rape until you're all used up and disposed of. This is your life so get used to it. Now, let's see what will be fucking you very soon."

Jeremiah stood to let a shell-shocked Holly see the woman again. And again the bound girl gasped in horror, not at the scars on her belly but at what protruded from her crotch. When the woman turned to reveal its full scale, Holly gasped again. The foot long strap-on was truly terrifying but that wasn't what made her whimper. The dildo wasn't one long piece of hardened rubber but was divided into three circular sections each 3" high and across, with a tapered cone at the front. If she could have moved, she would have run but she couldn't and so she begged.

"Please, Sir, please don't make me...don't...please, Sir...I'll..."

"I know," Jeremiah smirked, patting her head, "it's quite something, isn't it. Just think, in a few moments that thing will be imbedded deep in your cunt. Isn't that exciting?"

"Sir, please...I...I can't tak..."

"Silence, you snivelling cunt!" Jeremiah barked, "That thing is going up your pussy and there's nothing you can do about it. And that isn't all you'll have to scream about."

With that, Jeremiah showed her what she thought was the same paddle he'd used on her before. But when he flipped it over, she gasped again. Embedded in the rich mahogany were thick metal wires which only just rose above the surface. In an agony of terror, Holly squirmed against her bonds with such desperation that she forgot the consequence of speaking out of turn.

"Please, Sir, don't ...," she begged, tears welling up in her eyes.

SMACK!

"Shut the fuck up!" Jeremiah said, his free hand smacking Holly across the face, "I told you I didn't want to hear your whining limey voice! Yet you disobey again, you stupid fucking whore!"

The sound of his hard slap and her anguished cry combined in a very satisfying way. The second slap sent her over the edge and she began to cry. He wasn't really angry nor did he blame her for fearing the huge dildo about to be shoved up her cunt. But just hurting this beautiful bitch wasn't enough; he also wanted to torment her psychologically, to blame herself for the horrible pains she suffered and to genuinely believe she deserved everything that happened. Pointing, he sent his assistant to Holly's rear and stepped back in front of Holly, grasping the wooden paddle tightly.

"Right, you big titted bitch," his face was only inches from hers, "time to get fucked. In a few seconds, that huge dildo will be forced up your tight young cunt. But I've just remembered ... I told you why some people like girls with big tits but I never told you why I did, did I, sweetie? So while that thing tears you apart, I'll tell you why I want to play with you and your big fat titties."

Forced to look ahead, Holy could only listen to Jeremiah, mystified by the sheer enjoyment he got from talking to her like that. But pressure on her pussy soon distracted her. Placing her strap-on against Holly's slit, the woman had slowly moved it into position at her opening. Once lined up, she grabbed her hips to slowly ease herself forward. As Holly's lips slowly parted to allow the huge thing into her tight dry hole, a chubby hand grabbed a big soft tit.

"Mmmmmm, so soft," squeezing her breast, Jeremiah groaned, "who'd have thought two sacks of fat on some dumb whore would feel so good. I can't get enough of them. Look at them bounce!"

Jeremiah bounced Holly's huge tit up and down, scarcely believing how perfect this bitch's breasts were. It was a crime they weren't permanently displayed. As he played, he looked at her face. She really was beautiful and with her wide brown eyes slightly red from crying, she looked gorgeous. He could only imagine how often her classmates and teachers had dreamt of covering her pretty face with sticky white cum. What would they have given to play with her giant tits as he was now?

"And look how they swing!" slapping his hand against her tit's soft creamy skin, "I'd like to thank you for growing these babies for me to play with. But I'll let you in on a secret. I don't just love playing with big titted whores because I like how their tits look and feel."

When the paddle hit her hanging tit, all Holly's anticipation didn't stop her scream straight into Jeremiah's face, the combined sound of wood and wire on tit flesh with her wail making him smile. He enjoyed it so much he battered her tit four more times. Already the results of its special additions were appearing as thin red streaks more intense than the general reddish hue of her tortured tits.

"You see," Jeremiah kept swinging the paddle into her hanging breasts, "when a bitch has tits like yours, they can't be taken seriously. You don't see news reporters with ridiculous udders like these nor any politicians with such massive melons. In all history, do you ever see bitches with udders like yours? Whores like you are only good for one thing."

The last sentence was emphasised by a ferocious forehand to her breast. Holly's scream this time voiced both the pain of the blow and her pussy stretching as the dildo advanced another inch into her fuck hole and nearly to its full diameter. Even when she stopped screaming from the blows, she was still groaning from being stretched. Having been ordered to fuck the girl with this huge dick, the woman was unconcerned by the tight fit and would do so, regardless of her screams. Impassively staring ahead, she pulled Holly's hips to thrust further in, the first of the balls now fully inside her. As her supple labia closed tightly around the dildo's thinner stem, Holly screeched.

"With tits like that," Jeremiah continued ferociously backhanding them, "I can't take you seriously. That's why I love big juicy tits because it's so easy to torture them. You're not a person, just a toy, who exists only to be played with. No man would ever marry you, Holly, they'd just fuck you and toss you away. If you were lucky, a man might have played with you nicely. But as you know, I don't."

On the next blow, he smiled when a wire caught a nipple, her scream becoming even more intense and made worse by the second ball going inside her cunt. Holly felt totally full with less than half the monstrous dildo inside her. When he hit again, the wired paddle made her breasts feel on fire. Time after time, her anguished cry followed the paddle's satisfying smack thudding into her soft swinging breasts which now felt like an inferno. Assaulted from all sides, her tits jumped and danced madly, something the sweating hulk clearly enjoyed. Pausing for breath, he was pleased to hear that even when not assaulting her, the girl was still in pain. Six inches of the knotted dildo was now deep inside her resistant cunt and the tapered point was at her cervix. Unable to force the notched rubber cock further up, the woman looked at Jeremiah. With a small nod he signalled her to begin.

The woman didn't especially want to hurt her but had no choice. Gripping the girl's creamy white hips, she paused a moment then slammed forward. Only an inch went in but when the tip smashed against her cervix, Holly's scream was high-pitched and wavering. Jeremiah smiled at her face, mouth open and eye's scrunched up, screaming. Pulling the dildo out slightly only to ram forward again produced another scream. Holly tried to squirm away but she was tied too tightly. Again the dildo thrust in, its force lifting her slightly and making her huge breasts jiggle on her chest.

"That's right, bitch," Jeremiah was timing the paddle with the thrusting dildo, "scream. Scream, you little whore. You wanted your cunt stuffed and now you're screaming about it. Ungrateful slut."

Striking his paddle against her dangling tits, Jeremiah then walked round trailing it along her back to see what was causing all her pain. On seeing Holly's plump pussy lips stretched so extraordinarily thinly around the massive phallus pumping in and out of her, he could not believe she'd got even half the massive cock inside her tight teen pussy. He looked at her perfect tits which even hanging down were still pert, almost impervious to gravity, quivering like jelly with each painful thrust and tortured scream. Grabbing them hungrily, he squeezed the soft flesh between his hands.

"Do you know what, Holly?" Jeremiah said as he bounced her tits in his hands, "Beating those giant tits has made me quite thirsty. I need a drink. And you're about to give me one."

She hadn't heard what he said over the pain in her pussy and scarcely felt him releasing her tits to pick up a small table and a large bowl from the corner. As her hoarse wavering high-pitched screams continued each time the tip rammed into her, he put the bowl on the table just below her quivering tits. Then, taking the soft flesh of her huge hanging breasts in his hands, he whispered in her ear.

"Time to treat you like the cow you are," Jeremiah said gleefully, "I'm going to milk you, girl. How does that feel, cunt? I'm going to milk you like a fucking cow. You're no innocent teenage girl but a fucking cow who's going to feed me. Now stick out your fat udders so I can milk you!"

Even through the pain of her rape, Holly heard what Jeremiah spat into her ear. When Greta had shown Holly her lactating breasts, she had known this could happen but hadn't anticipated the intensity of the humiliation. That this horrible man even touched her breasts was bad but milking her was worse. Squeezing her soft flesh, his chubby fingers closed on her swollen nipples and then, as he squeezed and pulled down, came the distinct sound of liquid hitting the ceramic bowl.

"Whoosh!" Jeremiah said as two white streams squirted from her tits, "Look at that! I'm milking your big fat udders, Holly! How does it feel, baby, squirting milk like a cow? Moo, whore, moo!"

Cackling loudly, Jeremiah worked hard to squeeze more milk from her luscious tits. Holly was too busy screaming to moo. As he pulled her breasts down, she felt it slightly uncomfortable but not painful. But the psychological pain was very real, the humiliation worse than she'd ever experienced. Overwhelmed by both the pain of her rape and the shame of being milked, she sobbed loudly between squeals. Jeremiah couldn't stop smiling, her pathetic cries amusing him as he worked her tits like udders, pulling down on her nipples and watching the streams of milk fall into the bowl until it was almost full, her swollen nipples just inches from the frothing surface. Giving her tits one last squeeze, he reluctantly let them go, a few drops just hanging before falling into the bowl.

"There we go," Jeremiah said as he picked up the paddle again, "all done. I bet it tastes fantastic, thank you, Holly. But there are a few drops left, shall we shake them free?"

He swung the paddle, crashing it into Holly's midriff to make her toned stomach a red sea of pin-pricks from the embedded wires, knocking the air from her and cutting her scream short. As her tits danced, more drops fell into the bowl. Waiting for her breath to return, he crunched her again, creating an airless scream, then gestured his assistant to speed up. As the cock only moved another two inches into Holly's stretched pussy, her tunnel still wasn't stimulated and its rubbing hurt her dry walls. But that pain was nothing to the agony of its tip slamming into her cervix. Her tormented screams soon had other causes as he began slapping her bruised behind and crashing the paddle onto the underside of her tits, making them jiggle wildly. Assaulted from three directions, squealing like a stuck pig with every blow, thrust or slap, the intensity of her screams grew. And as she screamed and screamed, she hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. But it didn't.

"Come in!" the voice boomed from behind the door and Detective Daniel Hannemann gingerly entered, clutching his file tightly. He was sweating nervously for this was a huge moment for him. If all went well his career, his life, could change dramatically.

"Ah, Hannemann," the man behind the desk exclaimed, his deep voice seeming to fill up the room, "It's been a long time. Come in, take a seat."

Shuffling forward in his tattered shoes, the greying man sat, relieved to take the weight off his feet. Looking at his Commissioner, he suddenly felt more nervous. Reporting to someone this high up wassurprising but the nature of the case explained it. The imposing man sitting behind the desk still seemed to tower over the detective. His bald head and massive grey moustache made him look like a character from a period drama but Hannemann knew this was deceptive. Rising faster through the ranks than any police officer since Germany's unification, Rudolf Papen was Munich's most senior officer despite unconfirmed rumours his father had been a key officer in East Germany's infamous Stasi. Although his portly physique and seemingly gentle nature suggested otherwise, this man had deep connections. If Hannemann impressed him, it would help his flagging career immensely.

"Right," the man said, looking up from the work on his desk, "you called my office in a hurry late last night. And obviously didn't have time to shave this morning. What is it, Hannemann?"

"Well, Sir," the man stammered, rubbing his unshaven face, "it's about these missing girls."

This got the man's attention as he leant forward, his fingers twirling one end of his great whiskers.

"The English ones?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Excellent! London are pestering me for any information I can get on this. You have something?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, go on then, spit it out!"

Detective Hannemann stuttered and stammered through his file of evidence. Sitting there silently, his Commissioner only interjected occasionally as the flimsy evidence was reeled off but becamereally interested when the detective mentioned the barmaid. His questions beginning in earnest, it took fifteen minutes to explain and when he finished, Rudolf sat back, twirling his whiskers.

"Well, you've certainly done some fine detective work. Fine work indeed. I'll pass this onto Strauss and his team. But I won't forget your contribution, Hannemann. Thank you very much."

When he gestured the detective to leave, he shuffled out with a sycophantic thanking routine. On closing the door, the bedraggled man breathed in relief. As he walked to his desk, no doubt piled with meaningless cases, he felt his hard work, long nights and dedication had paid off. Tomorrow all would be different. Sitting down, the weight of many years lessened.

Meanwhile Rudolf Papen sat at his desk. He hadn't expected anything new in this case, least of all from some washed up detective. The lead was interesting. Somehow this man had found where the girls had been taken from and who a key potential suspect was. It needed immediate action. Grabbing his phone, he entered a number and waited for answer.

"Hello, Papen here. There's been a development; I have to see you right away. Well when's the earliest? Tomorrow morning it is then. OK."


Chapter 7 (added: 2017/07/08)

The three figures that made up the macabre tableau froze as if time itself had stood still. A strange and sudden hush descended on the room that had until then been a cacophony of deafening noise. After just a few seconds, but what felt like an age, the eerie stillness was punctuated by a whimper dripping with pain. This was soon followed by a loud anguished sob as Holly desperately tried to rid herself of her agony with the only tool at her disposal. Tears streamed down her face like droplets on a windshield as her whole body was racked with pain. Towering over her were the two causes of her torment, one jutting out the back of her the other merely standing above her; sweating, panting and beaming.

"Gee," Jeremiah gasped, half on account of his breathlessness and half as he tried to hold back his laughter, "that was fun! Wasn't it Holly? No? Well I certainly enjoyed it. That was quite a performance from you, all that screaming and wailing."

Jeremiah looked down at the poor girl bound beneath him, his eyes drinking in the effects of his attentions. Holly's back was shimmering with sweat with the odd angry red marking indicating where he had brought the paddle crashing down. This though paled into insignificance when compared with the rest of her. Her arse, already beginning to turn purple from her spanking, had fresh angry red marks at the top where his right hand had slapped her toned rear repeatedly.

Of course though it was her breasts that had received the most attention. Bound as she was with her luscious mounds hanging down he had been able to assault the little touched underside which now glowed almost as vibrant a red as the rest of her battered tits. Clearly visible in the general scarlet hue were the lines of deep blood red that showed where the small pieces of wire embedded in the wooden paddle had bitten into her flesh.

All this was before one looked at her cunt, which although the labia were still painfully stretched over the monster dildo still looked relatively untroubled for all the pain there was on the inside. All told it was no surprise that Holly was now sobbing profusely for the gorgeous beauty's body told the story of her pain. Unfortunately for her though her ordeal was far from over.

"I think it's time we all took a break though," Jeremiah continued, walking back round toward Holly's head, "so if we pull that big dildo out of your whore cunt I can taste that beautiful milk you made for me. Does that sound good?"

Holly was too lost in her own world of pain and humiliation to notice she was being spoken to, only registering the painful sensation as the woman behind her began to ease the notched dildo out of her vagina. As her lips retreated and then stretched again Holly squealed in fresh pain, all the while sobbing at the undercurrent of agony she had been plunged into. Jeremiah smiled at the sheer amount of pain he had caused the innocent teen and brought his hand up to her cheek as if to comfort her.

"Oh you don't feel like talking? Well that's understandable I suppose, probably a good idea to rest your voice after all that screaming. You keep doing your pathetic sobbing then whilst we get you set up for our next game. Because I certainly haven't finished playing with you yet."

Jeremiah tapped quite hard on Holly's tear slick cheek and gestured to his assistant that she was to begin. His role completed he walked over to his armchair and flopped down in it to catch his breath, well pleased with his work. A moment later the woman who just a minute ago had been almost tearing Holly apart walked over to him with the table and milk filled bowl. She had shed her terrifying strap on and was once again bedecked in a tight fitting robe. With her trademark grace she set the table down next to the armchair and then walked to the back of the room.

Holly didn't watch, even though her head was still strapped to the bar. A moment later the woman came back with a glass jug and beaker, placing them next to the bowl of milk on the table. Whilst Jeremiah merely sat still in his chair staring contentedly at the sobbing babe tied up in front of him the woman poured the white liquid that had been squeezed from Holly's tits from the bowl into the jug.

Although it took considerable concentration not to spill a drop the woman managed it all without letting the strain show on her face. That done she placed the bowl down on the floor and returned to the table. Taking on the look of a waitress she next poured the milk from the jug into the glass and handed it to the sweating hulk of a man that sat in the chair.

"Thank you," Jeremiah said as he took the glass, loudly enough to ensure Holly would hear, "I can't wait to taste this bitch's milk. Now if you could set the cunt up for our next game whilst I drink it then we can carry on enjoying ourselves."

The woman nodded and, setting the half full jug of milk down on the table, made her way back over to the battered and bruised girl tied to the frame. She made an effort not to look Holly in the eye for she could not afford to have any sympathy for the poor girl. That said she could barely help herself. Even by the standards of this nightmarish place what the English teenager had gone through already was pretty brutal and it was not about to get any easier. She had been briefed beforehand on what they would be doing to the girl, the reason she was able to work without instruction, so she had known the treatment that was in store for the big titted girl yet the savagery of Jeremiah had still slightly surprised her. She had grown used to it of course over her period working here but it was difficult not to feel at least a pang of sympathy as she heard the tortured screams of yet another innocent victim.

That the girl had only been here a few days seemed to make it worse; the fact that less than a week ago she had been an ordinary teenage girl and now she was tied up in a dungeon being brutally tortured by some fat old man seemed so cruel. As she approached the frame she made sure to keep her steely expression fixed, not able to give the girl even a crumb of comfort.

Jeremiah had none of the problems with sympathy that his assistant had; he simply didn't have an ounce of it for the poor girl. As he raised the glass of milk to his lips he could scarcely have been less concerned about how much he had hurt and was going to hurt Holly. All she was to him was a vessel to bring him pleasure, and if that pleasure meant causing her tremendous pain then so be it. In fact, it was the pain he was causing that gave him the pleasure - for him there was no greater joy than torturing this defenceless babe.

He took a sip from his glass as he stared straight ahead at his victim. As the warm white liquid flowed down his gullet he took a moment to re-examine the toy he had been playing with. Even at a distance the girl's innocent, almost child like face was beautiful, especially, Jeremiah thought, that it showed just how much pain she was in. He watched as his Asian assistant untied Holly's battered rump and unclipped her ankles. As the bar was removed Holly's hips collapsed forwards, her pendulous hanging breasts returning to their more usual position high up on her chest.

With the bar no longer supporting her all the pressure was put on her shoulders and Holly wailed at the strain, desperately trying to support herself on her legs. But they were too weak, her torture having made her tense every muscle in her body. Jeremiah chuckled, the anguish on the girl's face stirring nothing in him but amusement. This time he took a much bigger swig of his drink. There was nothing especially nice about the drink itself, it was warm and at the end of the day it was just milk. But the fact it had been squeezed from the helpless bitch's massive tits meant that to Jeremiah it was the sweetest thing on earth. He topped up his glass and settled in to watch as Holly was set up for his next game.

Even as Holly wailed on account of the strain in her shoulders the woman didn't change her rhythm, making no attempt to ease the poor girl's suffering. Instead she worked slowly, methodically, raising the third bar up from the floor until it was level with Holly's knees. Ignoring the cries of anguish the woman took one of Holly's dainty feet and tied a rope around her ankle. She repeated this with the other leg then, one by one, tied the long end of the rope to the bar that had supported Holly's midriff before, which she had ratcheted up. The ropes were taught and Holly was slightly relieved that her weight was no longer entirely on her shoulders, although with her legs spread and bent up behind her she was also very aware how exposed she was. She stared forward and watched as Jeremiah sipped on his glass of milk. When he got out of his chair and walked towards her Holly's heart sank once again.

"Mmmmm," Jeremiah said as he approached Holly, smacking his lips together theatrically, "that is delicious. Who'd have thought a worthless cunt like you could make something so tasty. I should thank you."

Jeremiah reached out his hand as if was about to shake her hand, melodramatically miming every action. When he was of course not given Holly's hand to shake he compromised and grabbed at one huge fleshy mound. He got as much of the soft flesh in his hand then, gripping tightly, began to shake it just as one might a hand. Holly's tits were so battered that even the slightest touch would have been painful so Jeremiah's vice like grip was agony and was once more met with a tortured wail. This sound clashed with the hearty laughter from Jeremiah.

"Thank you very much titty," Jeremiah roared with laughter, amused by a combination of his joke and Holly's pain. He continued to shake her breast violently, his grip not loosening at all. He continued for a good minute, until eventually the action no longer seemed to amuse him. Slowly he released the pliant flesh, though not before smacking the bruised tit a couple of times for good measure. The sound of the flat of his hand against the delicious globe echoed loudly around the room. Not simply satisfied with torturing Holly's tight young body he also wanted to torment her mind so as he let go of her tit he moved the glass of milk right in front of the poor girl's tear stained face.

"I've just realised Holly," he said, returning to his patronising voice, "how selfish I'm being, having all your delicious milk to myself when you did all the work growing those fat tits and making it. Here you should have some."

The glass was brought up to Holly's mouth and tilted so the white liquid touched her tantalising lips. At first she was reluctant to drink, it was a sign of just how desperate her situation was . But she had not been kept well hydrated during her captivity and she only now realised how thirsty was. So, reluctantly, she opened her mouth and allowed the lukewarm liquid to flow down her throat. Jeremiah had hoped she'd be more resistant and that she'd hate having to drink it so was a little disappointing when she seemed to enjoy it. This was easily solved though for as soon as he saw how eager she was to drink he promptly took it away and made a point of drinking it himself.

"My my, you're a greedy slut aren't you. You loved me milking those big tits didn't you, you fucking cow? What do you say to me for letting you drink your own milk?"

"Thank you Sir," Holly whimpered.

"Thank you for what, bitch?" came the angry response.

"Thank you for letting me drink my...my...milk," the poor girl said despondently.

"Good. You may be a pathetic fucktoy but at least you're grateful. You know how lucky you are to be able to please me cunt? It's all a worthless whore like you is good for. You should remember to thank your mistress for showing you your proper place. Now, I think it's time for a game."

Jeremiah nodded and the woman stepped forward carrying a table with a bizarre contraption on it. It was a large black ball mounted on a stand, but what was strange about it was what was stuck into it. Dozens of thin metal spines jutted from it, making it look like a sinister cactus. Holly had no idea what it was but her mind already raced with all the terrible tortures that could be inflicted on her with it. Despite her better judgement she began to plead again, so terrified was she of this new potential torture element.

"Please Sir, please no please..." a few vicious slaps to her face cut Holly's babbling short.

"Silence cunt! I know you're a dumb whore but how many times must I tell you not to speak unless spoken to!? You must be the stupidest slut I've ever fucking seen. Maybe if you'd put less effort into parading your fat tits, teasing your teachers, and paid attention at school you'd be able to follow some simple instructions."

With her cheek throbbing from the blows Holly kept her mouth shut as she was subject to yet another tirade of verbal abuse. Yet she couldn't take her eyes off the device, the thought of it being rammed up one of her tight holes sending shivers down her spine. Despite all he had done to her already she couldn't believe he would do that to her, it would surely kill her if he did. But despite her desperation she didn't open her mouth; she had learnt that lesson the hard way. When Jeremiah reached down and picked up one of the spikes, releasing it from the ball, Holly wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened. The metal spike was about a foot long, thin and flexible; illustrated by Jeremiah bending it just in front of Holly. As if the tortured teen hadn't already guessed where it was going he slapped it onto her huge pert tits a few times, smiling as he did so.

"Your mistress told me that she pierced you when you got here, is that true?"

"Yes, Sir," said Holly, remembering the pain as Greta had decorated her with those nipple rings what seemed like an age ago.

"Well then, you might enjoy this game. You see each of these is very sharp; it can easily break the skin. And I'm going to see how many of these spikes I can stick through your tits. With most girls I might only be able to get five or ten in but wow Holly, with your ridiculous melons I might be able to get 20 in each! Just think what your titties will look like with twenty spikes sticking out of them! Are you ready, slut?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly responded meekly. It had been difficult to listen to Jeremiah's description of what he was about to do to her but there was nothing she could do about it. Nor was there any point trying to delay the inevitable. Instead all she could do was accept it and do her best not to draw the worst of his wrath.

"I know what you're thinking," Jeremiah mused, enjoying the game he was playing with the helpless babe, then putting on a bad fake English voice he continued, "'My tits are huge, those little spikes couldn't possibly pierce my massive boobies.' Well Holly, I hate to disappoint you but these little things are very, very sharp. Here, let me show you."

Jeremiah held up the spike to Holly, allowing her to see the glint of the metal in the light before touching the pointed end against her chest, just above where her breasts bulged out so spectacularly. He pushed it forward until he heard a tiny yelp, a signal he had broken the skin. He took a moment to drag it across her creamy white skin then brought his finger across the fresh shallow cut. Already a tiny trickle of blood stained his fingertip and smiling, he brought it right in front of Holly's eyes then pushed it against her lips. The girl obediently opened her mouth and he thrust in, metaphorically raping her as he pushed the bloodied finger deep inside. As much as he enjoyed the feel of her moist mouth on his finger it was her helplessness as he thrust inside that he relished the most. When he took his finger out though what he wanted was to see her suffer.

"You see, even your huge tits can't stop these. Now, are you ready?"

"Yes, Sir," Holly responded, the coppery taste of her own blood still swimming round her mouth.

"That's good to hear. Now as you know I'm a very generous man so I'm going to let you choose which titty we start with. Which is it going to be Holly? Which fat tit shall I skewer first? Left titty? Or right titty?"

"Left, Sir," Holly said after a moment's pause..

"Left what, whore?"

"Left...left tit," the shame she felt more than evident in her voice. Jeremiah had seen enough young women in this position to recognise this and decided to exploit it. Supressing his smile he bent down slightly and gripped Holly's cheeks, forcing her to look at him. With his sternest face staring straight into Holly's wide brown eyes he forced her to degrade herself further.

"Beg for it," he snarled, "beg for me to skewer your big fat titties."

Holly couldn't help but stare forlornly at Jeremiah as he forced her into this latest humiliation, pausing before responding to his demand. She simply couldn't understand what anybody could get from such terrible cruelty or from making somebody feel so wretched. OK if somebody wanted to rape her she could understand it, although when she had been raped the first time just a few days ago that had not been her thought process at all. This delight in her pain and humiliation though was something far beyond anything she could comprehend. Yet she knew there was nothing she could do about it. The only course of action was to endure and hope she could get through it without permanent damage to her fragile body.

"Please Sir," Holly finally brought herself to answer, "please skewer my...left...left...tit."

Jeremiah tried desperately to stifle a smile and just about succeeded as he stared into Holly's eyes. There was something about this girl, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, that made him want to plunge her into the depths of despair. Perhaps it was the fact she was English, or her innocent wide eyed expression or perhaps it was her magnificent tits. Whatever it was as he looked deep into her soul through her doe like brown eyes he felt his old cock twitch. He let go of her head but didn't take his eyes away from hers. Instead he brought the metal skewer right in front of Holly's eyes, whilst with the other hand he grabbed the breast Holly had designated to be pierced first.

"Well," he said, his face softening, "whatever you say baby."

Pulling her nipple out between his thumb and forefinger, a tiny trickle of white liquid escaping from the sensitive nub, Jeremiah placed the point of the metal against the soft white flesh at the base of her breast. His face finally broke out into a broad smile then, with a wink, he brought the spike up in front of her terror filled eyes then plunged it down.

"AAAAAIIIIIGGGGHHHEEEEEEE!!!"

The scream tore through the room as so many had before and Jeremiah savoured it. A broad smile on his face he looked down from Holly's pain streaked face down to her skewered. He couldn't help but chuckle when he saw. Despite all his boasting it seemed as if he was wrong. Although the metal was well embedded in Holly's tit, jutting upwards like a skyscraper, it had failed to force its way all the way through her sensitive flesh. Holly panted as she adjusted to the pain whilst Jeremiah looked on with slight confusion. His left hand still pulling her nipple outwards he stroked the girl's soft tit slowly.

"Well, Holly, it seems I was wrong. Looks like I underestimated just how big and juicy your monster titties are. Still," he said, his hand moving up to grip the metal once again, "if you think that's getting in the way of the game you are solely mistaken."

Jeremiah took a moment then pushed down on the spike, forcing the metal down through her breast. It was so sharp that it simply glided through the soft flesh like a hot knife through butter. Although Jeremiah encountered little resistance as he sank the spike through his prisoner's tit he was under no illusion as to the effect it was having; Holly's scream making it quite clear how much it hurt. The piercing shrieks were music to the old man's ears; almost as exciting to him as the sight of the gleaming rod embedded in her glorious tit. Her reaction pleased him greatly. If that was the bitch's reaction to just one spike, he thought, her screams when her tits were impaled by dozens would be magical.

Once her squeals had died down slightly he released her nipple and her breast returned to its usual proud position and shape. The spike had been inserted expertly, the angle of it meaning that even as it protruded from the underside of her breast it didn't pierce her toned stomach. Holly continued to sniffle slightly as the sharp pain subsided slightly into a dull ache. She knew full well though that it would be back in earnest.

"There," Jeremiah said, stepping back to admire his handiwork, "I told you I'd get it through. Not even your giant udders can stop these. The only problem is it looks a little lonely there by itself doesn't it? Such big tits need a lot more to look pretty. What do you say we give it some company?"

Even if Holly was in any position to argue she didn't have time; as soon as Jeremiah had finished talking he took a step forward, reached out and once again grabbed for the girl's same nipple. Pulling her breast out into a cone once more he grabbed another spike and lined it up with the soft globe. This time he positioned the spike slightly closer to the centre of her tit at a slightly diagonal angle. When he was satisfied with the positioning he took one look at his victim's terrified expression then looked back at his hands as he pushed the spike down into the flesh. Fascinated he watched as the point of the rod was stopped momentarily by her pale skin; a slight dent as it struggled to get past this momentary resistance. One more push though and the needle like point disappeared into the soft flesh to the accompaniment of another piercing shriek.

With a mixture of wonder and joy written on his face he slowly, agonisingly, pushed the metal rod forward deep into Holly's tit. The girl's screams rang out loudly as the old man took his time; intent on causing the buxom teen as much pain as possible. After about thirty seconds of sliding gently but easily through the pliant flesh of Holly's tit the sharpened tip emerged, the end glistening with just a drop of blood. Jeremiah allowed himself a smile then reached down for another spike. Holly could only whimper as he lined this next one up, this time horizontal just a few centimetres behind her nipple.

He once more pushed it slowly through the wailing babe's tit, as he did for five more after it. With eight gleaming metal rods now embedded in Holly's left tit Jeremiah paused, released his grip on her nipple and once more inspected his work. As if checking a set of shelves he had assembled Jeremiah looked quizzically at the impaled tit, occasionally prodding the soft flesh with a chubby finger. Holly was once again made to feel inhuman as he treated her as an inanimate object, seemingly with no consideration of her feelings whatsoever.

"Very nice," Jeremiah murmured almost under his breath, "very nice indeed. What do you think Holly? Do you like your tit skewered? Now I'm sure we can get plenty more in there but I think titty number two is starting to feel a bit left out. God didn't give you two huge melons for me to ignore one. We're not stopping until both those tits look like porcupines."

It took Holly a moment to realise what the man had said. He believed in God yet he was revelling in the pain of an innocent girl? With each passing moment this guy got more and more terrifying.

"I'm a Christian man Holly," Jeremiah said as he bent down to pick up another razor sharp spike, "so when God in his infinite wisdom rewards me with a gift like you to play with I have to respect his wishes. I'm going to praise him by making you scream."

Jeremiah traced the tip of the spike across Holly's right breast, searching for the perfect spot to plunge the needle in. He couldn't get rid of the smirk across his face he was having such a good time. He looked up at the face of the girl he was tormenting, streaked with tears which still flowed from her big brown eyes. What must be going through her head he thought? What did these sluts think about while they were being tortured? It didn't matter of course; nothing would stop him enjoying himself. But it would be interesting to know what was going through the mind of this innocent teen as she watched her huge boobs get pierced by dozens of needles. Certainly he didn't think she'd ever imagined she would be in a situation like this. But as his finger pulled on one of those big pale nipples the misery she would surely be feeling spurred him on as he began to push the spike down into these glorious tits.

It seemed like hours had passed before Melissa heard a sound other than the clinking of the chains above her and her own shallow breathing. She had no idea how long she had been hanging there but with the amount her shoulders ached convinced her it had been an age. But as painful and lonely as it had been there the sound of a door opening did not give Melissa any feeling of celebration whatsoever. She knew that whoever was coming in had no intention of rescuing her from this hell. Far more likely, she thought, it was that fat bastard come to torment her as he had done for the last few weeks.

Just over her left shoulder she heard a door slam shut and a set of footsteps moved towards her. The sound of the heels resonated loudly around the room and Melissa couldn't help but try and catch a glimpse, twisting her head and peering through the darkness. She could hear the footsteps getting closer until they stopped momentarily just behind her. After a slight pause they started again, slowly moving round Melissa until they seemed to pause right in front of her. She desperately tried to peer through the pitch black of the room but she could see nothing, although she could feel the presence in front of her. After a moment of near silence and just as Melissa was about to call out there was a loud clap.

The sudden incandescence blinded the young American and she closed her eyes as tightly as she could. Still though the light burnt through her eyelids and the flash of red light that filled her brain made her think her eyes had been permanently damaged. Slowly though the blinding redness turned a soft pink and Melissa realised it was safe to open her eyes. With the trepidation of a girl who had become used to unspeakable sights and tortures over the last few weeks she slowly opened her eyes.

Standing in front of her was the woman she had met when she had first been brought here, the woman who had poked and probed her like a piece of meat, although this time she was altogether more sinister. The sharp business like suit had been replaced by a tight leather corset which covered her torso from her chest to her navel. Melissa's eyes were drawn first down beneath the garment, where she could clearly see Greta's exposed pussy lips. The thigh high boots with huge heels made everything below the neck look terrifying. But it was from the corset up that Greta's true presence made itself known. Her hair pulled into the tightest of ponytails showed off her prominent cheek bones, with her emerald green eyes staring forward with no emotion whatsoever. Although she was desperate to turn and run out of this place Melissa couldn't, a combination of the chains that bound her and the mesmerising effect of Greta's piercing stare kept Melissa exactly where she was, gaze fixed firmly on the woman in front of her.

"Hello there," Greta said after a minute of staring at her latest plaything. Her voice sent chills through the Melissa's spine, the reverberation of the dungeon only adding to the sinister tone. "How are you finding your stay here?"

Greta smiled at her own little joke, but only for a moment. Obviously the young American hadn't enjoyed her stay, hanging from chains by her wrists in a dingy dungeon halfway across the world. Nor would she enjoy what was to come. The girl had to be broken so that when Jeremiah took her home she would be the obedient sex slave he wanted. There was no doubt Jeremiah had tried his best but he didn't have the experience of Greta. He'd told her that the bitch now hanging in front of her had tried to escape three times; not something Greta would have let any of her slaves even contemplate. This one certainly wouldn't be going anywhere.

More importantly for Greta though was the girl that stood behind this American bitch. It had only been a few days since Lucy had been brought into her castle but already she was obeying orders like someone who had been there weeks, if not months. Greta could assess a woman's potential like no other and as soon as she had seen Lucy the girl's path had become clear. Strong willed, sexually experienced and fiercely independent she was not like the other two that had been brought in along with her. While they would never amount to more than common whores this one Greta could mould into an apprentice and while she may never gain the same sadistic pleasure as her mistress another hand to spread the workload would be most welcome. This would be a true test of how far she had come and how much of the former Lucy still remained.

"Do you know why you are here?" Greta asked, the slight smile gone from her face.

"N...n...no," Melissa stuttered.

SMACK!!!!

The sound of flesh on flesh erupted around the room, as did the cry of pain from Melissa's mouth. Her breast bounced wildly as it recovered from the vicious slap Greta had delivered to it.

"You address me as your mistress, slut!" She barked. Her eyes flitted momentarily to Lucy, disappointed to see the girl had winced at the blow to the American's tit. That kind of weakness would have to be stamped out soon, but she could hardly chastise her new assistant in front of this whore. Lucy had shown she had potential but wincing at this tiny blow was not a good sign and she would have to be punished. First things first though Greta had a job to do, "Do you know why you are here?"

"No, mistress," Melissa responded, her breast still tingling from the blow.

"You are here because you are a slave." Greta said, pausing to make sure her words had been absorbed, "But you are a bad slave. Your master says you are disobedient, that he has to discipline you. Is this true?"

"No, mistress," Melissa answered, for she had been obedient, at least since her last escape attempt. Also, she thought if she admitted to being disobedient she would surely be punished. It didn't seem to matter though as Greta brought her hand back and then sent it crashing forward, her balled up fist slamming into Melissa's stomach. All the wind was knocked out of her and all she could do was hang there and gasp desperately for air.

"Are you calling your master a liar cunt? Answer me cunt!"

She tried desperately to answer but she simply had no air in her lungs. Gulping and gasping as if she were suffocating did no good. Even through her tear filled eyes she could see Greta's piercing stare, her face twisted into an angry snarl. But despite her desperation and even though she knew she would surely be punished Melissa couldn't say what she had to.

"I said answer me slut! Here," Greta now spoke for the first time to Lucy, who had been transfixed by Melissa's struggles. It took her a moment to realise Greta was talking to her but when she did she reacted immediately, anxious to avoid any of the horrible tortures she had already experienced at this sadistic bitch's hands. Walking on her high heels with the ease of somebody who was well practised she made her way round the hanging, writhing girl and over to her mistress. Greta's eyes were still fixed on the young American but she directed her orders to Lucy.

"Grab the whore's nipples."

Lucy paused for a moment but she knew that she didn't really have a choice. She simply had to accept that in order to survive she would have to do as she was told and if that meant hurting innocent women then that was what she would have to do. Stepping in front of Greta, conscious of the German's eyes piercing the back of her head, she paused and stared at Melissa's breasts. As the blonde struggled for air her sizeable tits jiggled up and down madly.

This was the first time Lucy had really looked at the girl she was to abuse and now she did she realised how beautiful she was. Her golden blonde hair framed a stunningly attractive face, looking every inch the all American beauty. Her body was taut and slender, obviously honed by hours spent in the gym. Her boobs were clearly big even with her hands above her head and Lucy couldn't help but think how good the girl would have looked under normal circumstances. She was no stranger to finding a woman attractive, indeed she had slept with numerous girls over her short sex life, and in another life Lucy may well have tried to get her hands on that body with the girls consent. Now though she had to use her hands not to give pleasure but to cause pain.

"Now!" shouted an impatient Greta.

Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden loud noise and immediately thrust her hands up to Melissa's breasts. She closed her thumb and forefinger around the hardened nubs that perfectly topped each pale boob. Lucy kept her eyes fixed firmly on the breasts in her hands, avoiding eye contact with the girl she was about to abuse.

"Twist them," Greta said calmly, "twist them until I tell you to stop."

With great reluctance Lucy rolled the nipples between her thumb and forefinger, ensuring she had a good purchase and then, eyes closed, began to twist. Melissa's breath having just returned Lucy was able to hear the effects of her attentions. What started as a slight moan had, by the time Lucy's wrists had turned 90°, turned into a high pitched cry. Still the eager to please Lucy didn't stop and as she continued to turn the cry got louder until it was a full blooded scream.

Melissa felt like her breasts were on fire as her nipples were cruelly twisted. Screaming was the only thing she could do to alleviate the pain. When she had seen the raven haired girl she had imagined she would be gentle, it seemed as though she was reluctant to hurt her, but her treatment was just as savage as Jeremiah. Her eyes were tightly shut as she threw her head back toward the ceiling, shrieking as the pain seemed to spread from her nipples through her breasts and all over her body. Then, even through her screaming, she felt her hair being tugged back and heard a hushed voice in her ear.

"Are you calling your master a liar whore?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

"No? No what!?"

"NOOOOOOO MISTRESSSS!!!" Melissa squealed, tears already running down her cheeks.

"So you were a disobedient slave?"

"YESSSSSSSSSS MISTRESSS!!!!"

"You tried to run away from your master?"

"YESSSSSSSS MISTRESSSS!!!"

"You're a disobedient slut who needs to be taught a lesson, aren't you?"

"YESSSSSS MISTRESSSSSSS PLEEEEEEEAAAAAASSSE!!!"

Satisfied with the answer, Greta turned and nodded to Lucy. It was with great relief to both Lucy and Melissa that the teen released her vice like grip on the American's hardened nipples. Under Lucy's attention the brown areolas had gone white but now they were free blood rushed back into them, extending Melissa's pain just a while longer. Finally though the agony dimmed and as Greta released her hair Melissa's head fell forward, her chest moving up and down as she recovered her breath. Greta walked round back in front of Melissa, forcing Lucy to hop quickly out of the way. The German placed a long finger underneath Melissa's chin and forced her to look straight at her tormentor.

"Do you understand why you are here now?"

"Y...yes mistress," Melissa stuttered, petrified by the lack of emotion of in Greta's eyes.

"And why is that?"

"Because..." Melissa stumbled over the words, still feeling too proud to admit what she was, "because I...I'm a disobedient s...slave, mistress."

Greta could see how much admitting that had hurt the girl but she tried to keep her pleasure from spilling out, retaining the act she worked so hard to maintain. Jeremiah had told her all about how he had got his slave; she knew the American bitch was proud and intelligent. It would be heart-breaking for her to have to admit she was a slave but that was exactly what Greta wanted her to do. She had known Jeremiah for a long time and had no doubt he had abused this girl in some typically cruel and vicious ways. But for all his enthusiasm he didn't have the experience or understanding of what it took to mentally break a girl. That was why he had brought his slave to Greta, for that was an area she was a world expert on. And evidence of her ability was stood in this very room.

"A disobedient slave," Greta repeated slowly, "that is exactly what you are. All you are. You should have learned that already. Today you will learn what you will have to do for the rest of your pathetic life. By the time I'm finished with you you'll be a perfect sex slave. And you'll be begging to go back to your master. Are you ready to start your training?"

"Yes mistress," a stunned Melissa said. Even after all Jeremiah had put her through she had entertained some idea of escape, some chink of light at the end of a long and painful tunnel. But since coming here she had realised that was not going to happen. This wasn't just some mad old businessman; it was a slick global operation. The hopelessness of her situation began to dawn on her, just as it had for Lucy. What made it worse was that it wasn't two men here getting ready to torture her. That she could understand for what man wouldn't want to play with her magnificent body. But two women could only mean this was nothing to do with sex. This was just cruelty, torture and sadism. It would take all her mental strength just to get though with her sanity intact so she stole herself for the test ahead.

"Here," Greta commanded, and Lucy stepped away from the hanging blonde and followed her new mistress over to the darkness at the back of the room. Greta stood there in the shadows waiting for the tall leggy girl to make her way over.

"Are you ready?" Greta asked, not exactly friendly but significantly less aggressive than when Lucy had first met her.

"Mistress," Lucy began, speaking to Greta as if she were speaking to any old boss, not the woman who had kidnapped, raped and tortured her and her friends, "what am I..."

"Are you ready to obey?"

"Yes Mistress."

Melissa could only hang helplessly as her two torturers conspired in the corner. She had no idea what they were planning but given the relish with which the dark haired girl had seemed to violently twist her nipples it was unlikely that they were planning something she'd enjoy. Being with Jeremiah for the better part of a month she was used to what these people were capable of; pure unadulterated cruelty. But this was different. Jeremiah's tortures had been horrible of course - brutal whippings, beatings and painful bondage - but they had mostly been a prelude to raping her. These two though didn't seem interested in raping her, only in hurting her. She was amazed any woman could do anything like this to someone of their own sex, particularly with all the hardships women faced out there in the world. But that didn't seem to bother these two in the slightest. And then they turned around.

"No...no please..." Melissa began when she saw what Greta held in her hand but she was quickly cut off.

"Shut up cunt," the German snapped angrily as she walked menacingly toward the hanging blonde.

"Please, please I'll do anything just..."

"I said shut the fuck up!" Greta barked, visibly pissed off.

"P...p...please..."

"Stupid fucking slut," Greta yelled as she drove her right fist, clenched around her tools for the next torture, hard into Melissa's solar plexus. Once again the girl's lungs were emptied of air and she gasped desperately, "how many fucking times do I have to tell you to keep your dirty whore mouth shut? Or do you only understand pain? Maybe we should test that out."

While Melissa tried to suck some air back into her lungs her eyes were firmly fixed on what Greta was holding. Clenched tightly in her right hand was a large coil of thin copper wire and, even scarier, a pair of shiny new pliers. In the other hand Greta held exactly the same and though Melissa couldn't be sure what the woman planned to do with them horrible thoughts were now charging through her head, each one seemingly more unpleasant than the last.

Greta took an extra moment to make sure that Melissa had seen what was about to be used on her and then handed one coil of wire and pliers to her assistant. Lucy hesitated for a second but she knew she would have no choice, and so, a little shakily she took the wire and the glistening pliers. Looking at the tool she started to mentally prepare herself for what she was going to have to do to this innocent young woman - whatever it was she was certain it wouldn't be pleasant. The occasional thought that Holly and Olivia could well be in the same position as this American popped into her head but she got rid of it as soon as it did. This was no time to get depressed about her friends' predicament; she had to focus on surviving this herself first.

"Right cunt," Greta began addressing Melissa, "your master told me he loved your tits, but I don't. And now I'm going to show you just how much I hate them."

Quick as a flash Greta had the blunt end of the pliers hovering just over Melissa's nipple, waited a moment so the American realised what was about to happen and then began to slowly close the jaws on the sensitive nub. Lucy watched on with near horror as Melissa's nipple was squashed between the unmerciful jaws of Greta's pliers, the ones in her own hand suddenly feeling very heavy. The American had obviously managed to get her breath back for now she began to pant.

"You think that hurts?" Greta said, now squeezing almost as hard as she could, "wait for this bitch!"

Greta gestured with her head and Lucy knew immediately what she had to do. Trying not to think about what she was doing Lucy reached out with the pliers and slowly closed them on Melissa's breast.

"ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Melissa yelled, trying desperately to deal with the pain as her nipples were cruelly crushed between the menacing jaws of both sets of pliers. The sensitive nubs felt like they were on fire as her flesh was squeezed between the metal, the pale skin of her breasts turning red and contrasting with the shining metal of the tools. She closed her eyes to try and deal with the pain, but Greta wasn't finished yet.

"Twist."

Said in such a matter of fact way it took Lucy a moment to realise what Greta wanted her to do, and even when she did she hesitated. Twisting the girl's nipples with her fingers had been difficult enough, but this was something else entirely. She had been on the receiving end of some dreadful torture, seen her friends go through far worse and now she was being asked to inflict it. In the eyes of this poor girl, Lucy was no better than the two Turks who had kidnapped and brutally raped her and her friends just a few days ago. The memories of that, the pain in her arse as she'd been torn apart by Hasan's huge dick, the horror of watching her friends brutally tortured, all flooded through her mind. She couldn't do this, no matter the consequences. It was time she took a stand.

Greta sensed the hesitation in her slave but she wasn't at all surprised. It would be very surprising indeed if after only a few days of training the girl was a willing torturer of this American bitch. She had been pleased with how well Lucy had taken to it thus far but a little hesitation was to be expected. However, it could not be tolerated. The German turned her head slowly and stared at Lucy, meeting the teen's sultry gaze head on. It didn't take long.

As if Greta was looking into her very soul the hair on the back of Lucy's neck stood up - those piercing green eyes filled with so much malice and rage that Lucy knew instinctively she had no choice but to obey. So pushing all those images out of her head she closed her eyes, and twisted.

"ARRRRGGGGHHHHIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Melissa's scream ripped through the room as first one and then the other nipple was cruelly twisted by both sets of pliers. Lucy tried to block out the sound of the American's tortured cries but such was the ear splitting pitch that proved impossible. Gingerly she opened her eyes, hoping she would get a sign from Greta she could stop and give the poor girl some respite but all she saw was the German's cruel grin as she delighted in the pain she was causing. Next her eyes flicked down to her own hand, but she could hardly look - Melissa's breasts were twisted so brutally now that Lucy could almost feel the pain herself.

After what seemed like an age Greta relaxed her grip on the pliers, allowing Lucy to do the same. Still Melissa screamed, the high pitched wail slowly dying down to a whimper as the burning pain transformed into a dull but powerfull ache. Taking Lucy by surprise the German now shot out a hand and grabbed Melissa's blonde hair, forcing the sobbing American to look her tormentor in the eye.

"Did that hurt cunt?" she spat.

Melissa couldn't bring herself to say anything, she just sobbed as she looked into the unrelenting eyes of her German tormentor, her breasts throbbing with horrendous pain. A vicious slap to her face brought back out of her almost trance like state.

"I asked you a fucking question cunt," Greta said ferociously, "did that fucking hurt?"

"Yes mistress," came the reply.

"Good," Greta said, genuinely satisfied, "well that was nothing compared to what we're going to do now."

Greta held the copper wire in front of the sobbing blonde for a moment then proceeded to unspool a length of it. When around a metre of the shining metal was free from the coil she took the pliers and, sliding the wire down to the bottom of the jaws, cut the metal free. She pressed the metre long wire against Melissa's chest between her tortured breasts. The German could see her captive trying desperately to figure out what was happening, though she doubted any mind that wasn't as fucked up as her own would be able to. The next stage happened rapidly.

Quick as a flash Greta looped the wire underneath Melissa's left breast, then round the top before tightening the hole in the middle. Before the blonde could react her tit was brutally constricted, the wire biting into the soft flesh and already turning the pale globe an angry shade of red. Without stopping to wait for the inevitable scream Greta took the pliers and began to twist the two ends of the wire around themselves, at once securing and tightening the vice like grip that held the Americans' breast.

Melissa had been too shocked for a moment to react but now she wailed as loud as she could. It wasn't just that the pain was bad, although it was, for she had endured worse when her nipples had been so viciously twisted. Instead it was the sheer shock of having her breasts bound at the base, the relish with which the sadistic German seemed to work. Her scream echoed around the room, with one of her tormentors smile contrasting with the same of the other.

"One down," Greta said as she made sure the wire was as tight as she intended, "plenty more to go."

Lucy stared at Melissa's breast, already going beyond red to almost purple as the metal bit cruelly into the soft flesh, and she felt sick. Holding the same implements Greta had used in her own hands she already knew what was coming. Taking one glance at Greta confirmed what she had to do, the German's cold green eyes giving her all the orders she needed. Although every fibre of being was screaming at her not to inflict further pain on this poor, innocent girl she knew she had no choice. And so, with an extremely heavy heart, Lucy began to unspool a length of copper wire.

It seemed a strange scene in this building of horrors as Mehmet walked forward, carrying a barely conscious Olivia almost tenderly in his arms. To any observer unaware of the nature of this place it might seem as if it were just two lovers; one carrying the other sleeping off to bed. That is until the eyes were drawn to Olivia's nakedness and the trickle of blood running from between her legs. Mehmet strode purposely forward toward the same room he had taken Olivia from before her 'meeting' with Greta. It didn't take him long to reach the door and once he was inside he placed the limp girl down on the bed.

"Wake up," Mehmet said. He would have liked to have had some fun with her but she was needed upstairs and the Turk couldn't afford to take too long. When she didn't respond to his demand he took more direct action. He reached out with one hand and gripped one of Olivia's perky tits and squeezed, his other hand pulling on her golden hair. This had the desired effect, Olivia's baby blue eyes shooting open and a moan of pain filling the room.

Olivia had almost passed out from the pain Greta had just put her through and ever since she had been in an almost trance like state. The brutal treatment she had received had left its mark; her pussy was still throbbing in pain. The image of the heated cone with her own flesh on it kept running through her head. Now though she had to react to this latest assault. Snapped out of her slumber she writhed under the cruel touch of the man who had first lured her into this nightmare.

"Wake up," he said, only loosening his grip on her breast and hair slightly, "you must get ready."

Mehmet took his hand off one pert breast and reached down to the floor, picking up a damp rag. Olivia didn't resist as he spread her legs wide but as he touched the cloth against her pussy lips she twitched violently, trying to buck away from his touch. First the Turk simply moved the rag to stay in contact with the girl's sex but when she moved once again he lost patience. With a look of anger etched on his face he reached around her midriff and pulled her over to him, ignoring her high pitched squeals. He pulled her light frame easily and set her across his knees. Her legs were kicking wildly, the fire that had briefly slipped away from her now back in earnest.

"Keep still," Mehmet shouted into her ear, "don't make me hurt you."

It didn't happen immediately but slowly Olivia's struggles did subside. She knew she couldn't overpower him so trying to stop him doing what he wanted was pointless. She was just as helpless here as she had been when she had first woken in this hellhole, tied up and hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't easy to remain still and leave her exposed to him but it was easier than having to endure a far worse punishment.

Mehmet touched the rag onto Olivia's leg, running it up the inside to clear away all the blood that had dribbled down. That done, he moved the cloth up higher, touching it gently against her sex. Olivia jumped and squealed once again but Mehmet used his free hand to push her down against his knee and with her fully restrained he could be rougher, aggressively scrubbing her extremely sore cunt. Olivia wailed at this fresh assault, tears once more running down her pretty face. Mehmet though continued unmoved, scrubbing and scrubbing, working the rag inside her tight hole to make sure she was clean for whoever used her next. After a few minutes of good scrubbing he was sure she was clean and finally dropped the rag to the floor and moved Olivia off his knee and onto the bed.

Olivia writhed a little now she was free, her hands covering her throbbing sex. After what Greta had put her through any touch would have been painful to her and Mehmet had shown no mercy to her as he'd cleaned her out. The feelings he had developed toward her did not mean he didn't want to see her in pain, far from it. One couldn't have spent as long in this place as he had unless they had a genuine love of watching and inflicting pain. And as a man he obviously appreciated young and beautiful women. So combining both his sadistic tendencies and his love of hot young girls meant this was the perfect place for him to be.

Rather than spare her from pain Mehmet wanted to be the one causing it. But he wanted to go further. He wanted not just to hurt her but to own her. While he had enjoyed breaking many girls over the past few years he now felt it was time for him to have his own girl to do as he liked with. It was as if he had spent months in high school and now he was ready to graduate.

Still now was not the time for these thoughts, he had very little time to get Olivia ready for whatever Greta wanted from her next. Leaving his captive desperately trying to relieve the pain in her groin on the bed he left the room and made his way down the corridor to a store room.

The sound of the door slamming into place made Olivia suddenly look up and she was amazed to see that for the first time since her capture she was alone and unbound. The discovery was enough for Olivia to momentarily forget about the hopelessness of any escape attempt, the myriad of labyrinthine corridors and the locked doors she would find along the way. Even the prospect of brutal punishment if she were caught didn't seem to cross her mind. All she could think of, in between the jolts of pain, was freedom for her and her friends and for the first time it seemed a faint possibility. And faint was all she had to cling to.

Gritting her teeth to ignore the pain in her groin she got up off the bed and headed toward the door. Grabbing at the door handle with her little hands she twisted, half expecting the whole thing to stay firmly in its place. To her amazement the thing turned so she pulled with all her might and slowly the heavy door began to creak open. Olivia's heart raced in excitement as she heaved the door open and looked out into the corridor. Poking her head out gingerly she looked left and right, as if waiting to cross a road. The coast was clear. Olivia steadied herself. It was now or never.

With a speed that belied her weakened state she shot out of the room. As soon as she moved the dull pain that racked her body seemed to come alive once more. The impact of her feet on the hard stone sent shudders through her, her fulsome breasts bounced painfully as she galloped down the hallway, and her legs rubbed together on her aching pussy. Olivia gritted her teeth, trying to block the pain out of her mind, and raced down the corridor. Just as she'd gone round the first corner she heard a loud thud behind her.

Mehmet hadn't had a care in the world as he'd picked up the equipment he'd need to prepare Olivia for her next task. He leisurely went around the storeroom, rummaging through the treasure trove of sex toys and torture implements to find what he was looking for. There was no rush, when he went back into the room he knew Olivia would still be lying naked on that crude bed. After what she had been through he wasn't at all surprised that most of her earlier fight, that had caused her at one stage to kick him in the face, had left her. Most of the girls that came through here gave up pretty quickly; even the feistiest bitches quickly mellowed after a few hours with Greta.

Spying the last item he needed he gathered it into his arms then made his way back over to the heavy door of the storeroom. Opening it with ease he stepped out leisurely into the corridor. It was then that he saw a flash of gold to his left.

It took a moment to dawn on him what had happened. But a quick glance across the corridor at the door of the room he had left Olivia, now flung wide open, told him everything he needed to know. It had been the girl's blonde hair that had flashed across his vision. The bitch was trying to escape. Without hesitation he dropped what he was carrying and sprinted after her.

The sound of the door slamming signalled to Olivia that Mehmet had exited the storeroom and no doubt had discovered his captive was missing. But the fact he was surely hot on her heels made no difference to the desperate teen. With no idea where she was going Olivia just kept running down the corridor, hoping if she kept going eventually her path would become clear. Not once did she look back; if she had she would have seen Mehmet chasing some distance behind but gaining all the time.

For anybody watching it would have been a sight for sore eyes. Olivia ran with the stylish grace of somebody who had practiced extensively. Her golden locks flowed behind her, full breasts bouncing delightfully and toned peachy arse swaying side to side. Olivia though had no concern about how glorious she looked; escape was the only thing on her mind.

For Mehmet the situation was not quite as desperate or bleak but still he was sprinting after the escaping girl. He was pretty sure she wouldn't get out; there were a myriad of corridors and most of the doors were locked. But if Greta were to discover that he had been so careless he dreaded to think what the consequences would be. For obvious reasons employees could not simply be dismissed from this place. He was then just as desperate to get her back quickly as she was to get away. He was full on sprinting down the corridor but he was surprised that he barely seemed to be gaining on her, only seeing glimpses of her pert bottom and golden hair. She was fit and fast, but the longer she eluded him the more he would make her pay.

Still thundering down the corridors Olivia was now looking desperately for a way out. She wished she had paid attention when she had been taken upstairs to see Greta; having just some idea where she was going would have been a huge help now. The corridors seemed to be the same, endless and identical, so Olivia would just have to get lucky. She rounded another corner. Straight ahead was a large wooden door, the same as all the others. With no turn off though Olivia would have to try it.

She crashed full on into the door and grasped desperately for the handle. To her horror it was no use. She pushed the door as hard as she could, turned the handle as much as she could, but the door wouldn't budge. She remembered how when she had been led out of the basement the door had been unlocked electronically. There would be no way of getting through. Disheartened but determined she turned and ran back the way she'd come.

Seeing the backside of the girl as she flew down what he knew to be a dead end Mehmet couldn't help but smile. There was no way out and in just a matter of moments he would have the bitch under control once again. Even before he'd got that lithe body in his grasp he was thinking about how he would punish her impertinence. Of course his punishments would be as nothing compared to Greta's when she found out one of her new slaves had tried to escape; she prided herself on the obedience of the girl's she captured and the behaviour of this particular slave would not be tolerated. That thought made the smile on Mehmet's face wider as he approached the corridor.

Olivia emerged at full speed back onto the main corridor and was immediately thrown to the floor. No sooner had she emerged from the little dead end had 200lbs of muscled Turk crashed into her, knocking every last breath of air out of her lungs. The impact with the hard floor was extremely painful and Olivia would have cried out if she wasn't struggling so badly to breathe. She was pinned against the floor by Mehmet's body, gasping like a goldfish to get some air into her lungs. The poor girl knew already her escape attempt would be punished severely.

Having successfully tackled his blonde captive Mehmet immediately set about teaching the bitch a lesson. He lifted his body weight off her while she still tried desperately to suck some air into her lungs, and then unfurled a savage punch. His fist landed squarely in Olivia's toned midriff sending shockwaves of pain throughout her little body. She gasped desperately at the air, the two blows having knocked everything out of her. Mehmet though was not going to stop there. Easily outmuscling the desperately struggling body beneath him he straddled her, pinning her arms above her head and holding her wrists together with one giant hand. Then he slapped her brutally across the face.

Still unable to cry out Olivia could only lie there and take the blow. Such was the ferocity of the strike stars circled round her vision and already the side of her face was turning red. Mehmet didn't let up. With the back of his hand this time he struck the other side of Olivia's face, a blow just as savage as the first. He was about to slap her a third time when he stopped; if her face was too badly bruised Greta wouldn't be happy. Instead he grabbed a clump of her golden hair and pulled her face to his.

"You try to run from me whore!?" The enraged Turk screamed right into Olivia's face, showering her reddening cheeks with saliva, "Stupid cunt! After mercy I have shown you!? You suffer now!"

Mehmet's rage overtook him again and he brought his knee back before crashing it forward with tremendous force into Olivia's crotch. She hadn't understood what he meant by mercy but it didn't matter now. The blow sent a shudder through the teen and she screamed afresh at the blinding pain coming from her red raw cunt. Seemingly satisfied with this immediate retribution for her disobedience he levered himself off of the helpless girl leaving her lying prone and sobbing on the cold stone floor. Then with one giant hand he reached down, grabbed a fistful of Olivia's hair and yanked the girl up to her feet mercilessly.

"Up cunt!" he shouted, almost pulling the blonde hair of his captive clean out of her scalp. Olivia offered no resistance or assistance; she was merely pulled to her feet and then dragged along the corridor. Mehmet paced ferociously back the way he had come - dragging the wheezing, sobbing girl behind him like a ragdoll. While she desperately tried to recover her breath she stumbled along,

Fuelled by pure rage Mehmet stormed down the twisting maze of corridors. It was a ridiculous looking scene - a man well over six foot dragging a small sobbing blonde down a stone corridor, her ample breasts jiggling tantalisingly with each laboured step. The Turk's face was literally contorted with anger as he marched. After the mercy he had shown this girl that was how she repaid him, by putting his life in danger. Sure he had raped and tortured her when she had first got here but if she knew what happened to some of the girls here she would have been grateful for his relative tenderness. He had seen Greta almost kill a girl once she had been so brutal. And as for Olivia's big titted friend - even Mehmet shuddered to think what horrors she was being subjected to. And still this ungrateful cunt tried to escape from him.

Finally they reached the door from which Olivia had bolted and Mehmet, hand still wrapped in her luscious blonde hair, unceremoniously tossed his captive inside. Olivia tumbled to the ground, her little body slamming hard into the cold stone floor. She stayed where she was, curling up into a little ball as if somehow that would save her from whatever was to come. Mehmet was in no mood to spare her though.

With a typically sadistic smile painted on his face he reached out with both giant hands and gripped the sensitive pale nipples that tipped each of Olivia's perky boobs. He grabbed the pliant flesh and stared into Olivia's sapphire blue eyes as he slowly twisted the little nubs. A tear welled up in each eye but the teen stood defiantly; not wanting to make a sound to satisfy this monster. Annoyed at her inner strength Mehmet squeezed harder, twisting until eventually his victim couldn't help but whimper and then shriek in pain.

Mehmet was pleased with the reaction, especially after she'd tried to defy him. When he'd first seen this pint sized princess in the bar with her two gorgeous friends he felt he'd sized them up almost immediately. Sure, he'd expected they might have a bit of trouble with the tall stuck up bitch but the other two, this little blonde bitch and big titted slut, he had imagined would be submit like so many other women that had gone through this place. And yet somehow this cunt was still fighting. Even after all she'd already been through she continued to defy him. The only consolation was that as long as she failed to obey he'd be able to make her life a living hell.

Much to her relief Mehmet finally released his vice like grip on Olivia's tits and continued with preparing her for her next task. With her arms tied behind her back Olivia was completely at his mercy and Mehmet was able to work quickly and easily. Throwing the girl face first onto the bed he grabbed a ring gag and Olivia reluctantly opening her mouth as he secured it behind her head.

The next thing Mehmet took was a sort of balaclava, a piece of thick black fabric with just one hole in the middle. Olivia stared open mouthed at Mehmet as he grabbed her roughly by the hair and forced the balaclava over her head. Still struggling she shook her head frantically but the Turk was too strong and he forced the tight fabric over the blonde's head.

As soon as it was over her eyes Olivia was plunged into semi darkness, barely able to make out the shape of her rapist in front of her. With the garment over her head none of Olivia's pretty face was visible, the only hole in it allowing access to her gagged mouth and with the elasticated bottom cinching tight around her neck. Pleased Mehmet ran his hand over the girl's taught toned stomach, over her hairless labia and slipped her finger inside her hot dry cunt.

"Little whore," Mehmet whispered right in her face as Olivia gasped at the intrusion, "are you ready to suck and fuck?"

Olivia could do nothing but moan as Mehmet began to pump his finger in and out of her much abused pussy.

"Many men going to fuck you," the Turk continued, "fuck your cunt, fuck your ass, fuck your mouth. Little slut getting wet just thinking about all those fat cocks inside you."

Mehmet smiled as he felt the first drops of response from Olivia's tight pussy, never ceasing to be amazed at how these girls could still get aroused despite everything that had been done to them. Before he had come into this place he had hardly had the greatest respect for women, bedding as many of the young ladies of Munich as possible pretty indiscriminately. But he had never thought women were as slutty as the bitches they brought in to the castle. They could be beaten, tortured and raped for days on end and still, just like this blonde girl beneath him, they would respond to even the slightest tender touch, lubricating themselves ready for the next round. It was hard to have any sympathy for a girl who didn't have any self respect or self control.

Olivia though felt shame at the response from her sex, although of course there was nothing she could do about it. It was a perfectly natural response. So as Mehmet leered and pumped his fingers in and out of her tender hole there was nothing Olivia could do but let the natural urge of her body take control.

As Olivia got wetter Mehmet had a strong, almost overwhelming urge to plunge his prick into her slick twat and rape the bitch as brutally as possible as punishment for her wretched disobedience. But he had wasted too much time already, and he didn't want to arouse any further suspicion - if Greta saw his carelessness in almost allowing a captive to escape he shuddered to think what she would do.

"Up!" he shouted at his captive as he forcefully pulled her up to her feet and, with characteristic brutality, frogmarched her out the door.

Jeremiah stepped back to admire his handiwork, a broad smile now etched permanently on his face. Staring back at him was either a picture of abject misery and cruelty or a beautiful and erotic artwork, depending on the point of view. Jeremiah certainly fell into the latter camp. He had spent the last thirty minutes painstakingly inserting spike after spike into Holly's mountainous breasts and he now looked on at the mess of metal and flesh with all the pride of an artist in front of his masterpiece. And much like an artist he had enjoyed every second of the creative process; the squeals from his muse each time he had pierced her skin, the gentle resistance of her tit flesh as he pushed the spikes through, the small rivulets of blood that ran across the pale landscape of her chest and, perhaps most of all, her wide tear filled eyes as she looked on helpless to stop the torture.

Of course he had stopped frequently to belittle the girl, telling her she was nothing more than a worthless cunt, a painslut for him to do whatever he wanted with. He enjoyed this almost as much as the physical pain he inflicted on her. He wanted her to believe it, to think she was as pathetic and insignificant as he knew she was. Staring down at the nearly 50 spikes he had forced into her massive tits and the look of resignation on her pretty face he was sure he had succeeded.

"Well that was hard work, Holly," Jeremiah said, the only other sound in the room the occasional drop of blood falling to the floor, "but see how beautiful it looks. I told you those tits were just made to be impaled and we got almost fifty in! I've done this with a lot of bitches and a lot of titties but none of those cunts ever gave me as much tit meat to play with as you."

Finally Jeremiah tore his eyes away from Holly's bleeding tits to look at the face of the girl he had tormented for over an hour now. With her head tied to the metal bar it could not hang down, although with the spikes sticking up this was probably just as well, and so the beleaguered teen was forced to look straight ahead.

Staring at the tear streaked cheeks of his captive Jeremiah felt nothing but pleasure. Not a single cell in his body was moved at the suffering of the poor girl. He felt no empathy, no remorse, not even pity. When he looked at her he didn't see a human being, a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. He saw only the potential to enjoy himself and if that came at her expense then all the better. As he looked deep into her hazel eyes, glistening with tears and clearly showing the pain she was in, he couldn't help but grin.

The thoughts of her captor towards her were about the furthest thing from Holly's mind. True she would have liked to have known them had there been a flicker of mercy so she could attempt to bargain with him but she knew by now no such flicker existed. She had given up on any hope that this monster might have pity on her and stop his sadistic torture. Her stretched and aching pussy, throbbing beaten arse and bruised and bloodied tits all told her that this man had no regard for her body or for her. It had been made abundantly clear that as long as she was in this room she was nothing more than a toy for him to do as he wanted with.

Even had she not been bound tightly to the metal frame she would have been unable to do anything to escape, not with him and the obedient woman at her back. The only course of action left to her was to endure and wait for help, so she simply stared straight ahead in anticipation of the next torture that awaited her.

"Tit meat," Jeremiah said as if he had just been given an idea, "that's what you are. All those skewers in your fat tits you look like a side of beef ready for the BBQ. Just imagine how much you'd squeal if we roasted your titties in a fire. I bet your screams would go all the way to England? Does that sound good Holly?"

Jeremiah salivated at the prospect and his words had the desired effect on his tortured captive. Holly had gone from being in a sort of trance, distracted only by the throbbing of her pain racked body, to being very aware of what was being said to her. Whilst Jeremiah's prattling on about how she was nothing more than a worthless pair of tits had quickly become water off a ducks back to her suddenly she was terrified once again. This man's cruelty had so far known no bounds and from what she had seen she wouldn't put it past him to do any of the things he had just described. Her mind flashed with the roar of the flames and the sheer agony as her breasts were plunged into the fire. More tears began to stream down her face as she once more begged her captor.

"Please Sir I please don't do..."

"Shut the fuck up you miserable slut!" Jeremiah spat, apparently annoyed at Holly simply for answering his question, "You think your pathetic begging would stop me doing that? No, your mewling has no affect whatsoever. But I won't do that. As much fun as it would be it would be very selfish wouldn't it? Then nobody else would be able to have fun with those monster tits. God didn't put you here just for me to torture you. He wants as many people to enjoy play with you as possible. So don't worry, we won't be roasting your tits. But it would be a shame not to give those puppies a little taste of what it would feel like wouldn't it?"

Jeremiah reached into his pocket and produced a huge zippo lighter, the silver glinting brightly in the light of the dungeon. Holly could do nothing as he took a step forward and flicked open the lighter, placing his thumb on the wheel which was used to ignite it. Also watching with concern was the woman who had remained mute throughout Jeremiah's skewering of the girl's breasts, not reacting at all throughout all her screams and whimpers. Now though she watched with trepidation. His previous threat to almost burn the girl alive she had known would never happen; the man was under strict orders to not cause any permanent physical damage to the girl. She was concerned that he'd been caught up in the moment, potentially forgetting that he wasn't to harm Greta's assets permanently.

However, despite her concern it was not her place to question these men and women who paid huge sums of money to do this sort of thing to these poor girls. Any form of insubordination towards this man would surely result in just one thing; her taking this teen's place. So all she did was watch on as he flicked the lighter and a large flame burst upwards.

"Look Holly," Jeremiah said, waving the lighter around in front of the tormented teen to make sure she saw the flickering flame, "how big it is. Can you feel the heat? I think it's time to give those fat English tits a good old fashioned American barbeque!"

Jeremiah had held the lighter up close to Holly's cheek so the girl could feel exactly the sort of heat her breast was to be exposed to but now he moved on to the main event. Slowly, menacingly, he brought his hand down toward Holly's chest. With his eyes almost permanently fixed on hers, only flicking down occasionally to check the flame was in the right place, he placed the lighter just underneath one of the spikes jutting out from one meaty globe.

He wanted to drink in the reaction on her pretty face as she began to feel her breast heat up from the inside. It didn't take long. Holly's usually wide eyes suddenly took on a new dimension, widening even further as the effect of Jeremiah's attentions began to take hold. A smile crept across the old man's face and he kept his hand still, the flame of the lighter flicking around the shining metal.

Holly had known what was coming as soon as she had seen the lighter and when she had felt the heat on her face she had been in no doubt that it was going to hurt. But knowing what was coming didn't make it any less painful when it arrived. As Jeremiah moved his hand back down toward her breasts Holly's body was already moaning in pain; her arse was still throbbing, her shoulders were beginning to cramp, her pussy still tingled and her breasts ached badly.

It took a moment for the effect of Jeremiah's activities to make itself known, the warming of one of the spikes in her breast at first barely indistinguishable from the pain her chest felt anyway. But her eyes went wide when she began to feel it. It was an unmistakeable feeling but one that seemed totally alien as a heat began to emanate from within her body. If it wasn't for the fact the source of the warmth was a metal spike that had been rammed through her flesh the experience might just have been pleasant but unfortunately for Holly this was not the case. Her widening eyes indicated that the heat had progressed from gentle warmth to uncomfortable and Jeremiah smiled as Holly began to breathe more heavily.

"Is it starting to get a bit hot?" Jeremiah asked teasingly, "You just tell me when it starts to hurt OK?"

It was starting to hurt. The first pang of pain had come from deep within her breast, only slight at first but not diminishing. As it grew stronger it felt like when she touched her hand against the stove, only she couldn't pull her breast away. By now her heavy breathing had turned into a sort of pained mewling as the heat began to spread across her entire breast. Holly gritted her teeth and Jeremiah licked his lips as he watched the poor teen desperately try to escape, her futile attempts doing nothing but amuse him. Struggling against her bonds did nothing to relieve her pain for despite the evidence of her muscles rippling beneath her skin she stayed bound and motionless. Her proud skewered breasts were immune to her efforts; sitting on her chest for Jeremiah to do with as he wanted. After a few moments more he finally got what he'd been waiting for.

"AAAAIIIIIIIGGGHHHHHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

It was just the sound Jeremiah had been waiting for and he savoured it as it echoed around the room. Holly's pretty face contorted into a grotesque open mouthed grimace may have been less attractive for most men but for Jeremiah she looked perfect. How anybody could prefer the look of a woman that wasn't in pain was beyond him. The only reason he could think was that they hadn't experienced it for if they had surely they would be doing exactly the same as him for this was heaven on earth.

Indeed Holly's screaming was so beautiful he wished he could just keep the heat on this spike until it was literally cooking the cunt's tit. Alas he could not. Looking down at her breast he could see the skin around the skewer turning a bright red and he knew he had to turn off the heat. Of course he was allowed to put the girl through hell but he couldn't permanently ruin her - Greta still had plenty of use for her. So, reluctantly, he moved the lighter away.

Even after Jeremiah had stopped applying the flame Holly was screaming as the hot spike of metal embedded in her breast continued to radiate its torturous heat. With the flesh of her breast acting as an insulator the spike continued to torment Holly, her squealing evidence of the pain Jeremiah had put her through. Just as her screams began to die down and the metal cooled just slightly Holly could feel another tingling; a feeling she already knew wasn't going to be pleasant. Jeremiah had simply moved the flame a couple of inches until it flickered round another of the spikes driven into Holly's tit. No sooner had one spike begun to cool down another was heating up. After just a short pause Holly once again opened her mouth to scream.

"That's it bitch," Jeremiah said with his broad smile still painted on, "Have a good old scream while I roast your udders. It won't help you but I love hearing it. Now let's get the other tit nice and hot."

He chuckled loudly, although the sound of his laughter was drowned out by the sheer volume of Holly's screams. Over the next few minutes he continued to heat the spikes that were driven deep into her sensitive flesh, giving the poor girl almost no respite whatsoever. Every one of the spikes was given a lick of the flame so that every square inch of Holly's magnificent tit was agonisingly painful. Jeremiah had kept the flame on each spike for just the right amount of time, not long enough to scar her young skin too badly but plenty long enough to get the desired reaction.

For Holly it was pure hell, the heat driving her wild with pain. Unable to get away there was nothing she could do to reduce the agony except scream at the top of her lungs. She screamed so loudly she couldn't hear Jeremiah's chuckling but even if she had it would barely have registered for all that filled her head was pain. Pain was now the norm for her but that didn't make it any easier for the poor girl to take. So intense was the pain she was barely conscious when Jeremiah took the lighter away and looked at her, his smile broader than ever.

"How was that slut?" He asked cheerfully, "Was it as good for you as it was for me? I bet boys have been telling you how hot your tits are ever since you grew them. Now they're right! I bet that tit's really damn hot now isn't it? Do you know what's next, Holly? That's right baby. It wouldn't be fair to leave the other tit out would it?"

Jeremiah laughed heartily as he traced his finger in between the spikes jutting out of Holly's other breast. Her skin was warm to the touch but it was about to get a whole lot hotter. As he moved across the skewered globe a tear ran down Holly's neck and splashed down on the taut skin of her breast. It certainly wasn't the last tear she would shed because of him, a thought which made his cock twitch in his pants. Torturing the bitch had made him hot as hell and he couldn't go much longer without a release. Before he could do that though he had to make Holly scream again. So with the smile still painted across his face he flicked the lighter open once more.

"AAAAAIIIIGGGGHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Jeremiah repeated the process on Holly's other breast. He was painstakingly thorough; making sure every single one of the myriad of spikes had been given a liberal tickling with the flame. Watching the flame lick each metal spine could have been quite therapeutic and relaxing were it not for the anguished screams of the poor girl whose tits they were embedded.

Of all the tortures Holly had endured over the previous few days this was the most prolonged pain she had ever experienced. The moments of rest bite were so fleeting and the pain so intense Holly felt she would go insane. Her mind was no longer filled with the question of how anybody could do this to somebody for every ounce of energy was consumed by the agony of having her huge breasts burnt from the inside.

It felt like it had gone on for hours when Jeremiah finally took the lighter away from the last of the metal spikes and extinguished the flame. He would have loved to have kept going with this exquisite torture but his cock ached so much now he couldn't wait. Waiting a few moments before speaking Jeremiah savoured the sounds as Holly's screams died down into a soft sobbing whimper.

"Oh wow," Jeremiah said satisfied, "I've had plenty of barbeques in my time but gee, that's got to be the finest I ever had. Isn't cultural exchange a wonderful thing, eh Holly? Now how are those titties feeling? They're bound to be pretty painful by now."

Holly didn't respond to this fresh humiliation, instead, with the burning pain in her breasts barely dying down at all, she continued to sob.

"Shhhhhhh," Jeremiah said as he reached out and stroked Holly's wet cheek, "stop your crying Holly. I mean it; if you don't shut the fuck up I'll burn your juicy tits all over again."

Holly desperately fought to stop sobbing for she knew she couldn't go through that all over again. Fighting back the tears was incredibly hard; such was the pain that tore through her young body. Yet if she had learned anything over the previous few days of hell it was that when she was given an order it was in her best interests to obey without any delay whatsoever. So after just a few sniffles and blinking away the last few tears, Holly opened her eyes to stare at her tormentor once again.

"Good girl," Jeremiah said, surprised and slightly disappointed the sobbing bitch had managed to stop crying, "you're learning to do as you're told, like a good little slave. What are you Holly?"

"A slave, Sir," she replied despondently, the harsh reality of those words more than apparent to her.

"That's right, nothing but a sex slave. You're good for nothing but sex and the playing we've been doing. And after all that playing I think it's time for a little sex. Abusing those big tits has made this old dog plenty horny and I want to fuck something. Can you guess what I'm going to fuck?"

"Me, Sir?"

"Well of course you, you stupid slut. But which part of that lovely young body is going to make a nice home for my cock?"

Holly thought about her answer for a moment. She wasn't sure whether this man was making her choose how she wanted to be raped or if she had to guess what he was thinking; either way it was terribly degrading. She would have talk about herself like she really was what he had made her describe herself as. The truth was beginning to dawn on her though. Regardless of how much she wished she wasn't the evidence of the previous few days was pretty hard to refute. She had been raped and tortured repeatedly all while being treated like an animal. Everything that had happened suggested she was indeed what they all thought she was; a sex slave. With a heavy heart she answered the question how she thought he wanted her to.

"My p...my cunt, Sir?"

"Oooooh nice suggestion, Holly you little whore. I bet that tight teen pussy would be a wild ride. You'd love it too wouldn't you, now you've got the taste for cock you just can't get enough. But I can get young cunt anywhere, I don't even have to find a slave like you. The world is full of sluts who can't wait to fuck a rich old man. So having come all the way here, halfway across the world, I'd prefer something a little rarer. Guess again."

"My...arse, Sir?" Holly responded, her mind filled with the memory of her earlier anal rapes.

"'Arse'," Jeremiah chuckled at the English pronunciation, "I bet all you English girls love taking it in the 'arse' don't you? And your chute would be a nice tight fit wouldn't it. But unfortunately for you it's not your ass I'ma be fucking. Last try. What am I gonna fuck?"

"My...my tits..." Holly murmured, desperately hoping he would say no.

"Bingo!" Jeremiah said excitedly, "I'm gonna slide my cock right between those big fat udders and give them the fucking of their life. I can't do that though without taking all those spikes out. We wouldn't want me to get a nasty cut would we?"

Jeremiah had suddenly lost patience with tormenting Holly, saying he was going to titfuck her had made him anxious to get started. So it was with very little subtlety that he gripped one of the spikes between his thumb and forefinger and yanked it out. He worked quickly, ignoring Holly's yelps of pain as the metal was pulled from her breasts, rubbing against the sensitive burnt flesh.

As for Holly she didn't know what to think; to focus on the immediate pain or think about just how much it would hurt when the monster had his cock between her breasts. After all they had been through already she imagined it would be agony. It wouldn't be long till she would find out as one magnificent breast had already been emptied of spikes. Before long both globes were free and, though bruised and streaked with tiny rivulets of blood, were back to their glorious position.

"Beautiful," Jeremiah said, then as if to test their sensitivity gave one a slight squeeze. The moan of pain from his captive was evidence enough that she wouldn't enjoy the much rougher treatment he was about to give her, "lean her back so I can get at them tits."

Having been forced to watch uninvolved the woman standing behind Holly finally had something to do. It had been difficult to watch as Jeremiah had burnt and pierced the poor girl's breasts but she couldn't intervene. Now she had to get the girl in position for the old man to get his rocks off. All in a day's work. It didn't take long to get Holly into the position Jeremiah wanted; a 45 degree angle sloping backwards and lower to the ground.

As she clunked the frame into position Holly's magnificent breasts jiggled tantalisingly like great mounds of jelly. Growing up in the Far East she had seen very few women with breasts like this girl and though she had seen plenty of impressive racks whilst working here the ones wobbling in front of her were the most perfect pair she had ever laid eyes on. They should have been a blessing for the poor girl but whilst she had been here they had brought her nothing but pain and misery. Finally she undid the strap holding the girl's head so she would be able to watch what was about to happen. Having positioned Holly the woman looked up to see a now naked Jeremiah waddling towards her.

As the big American had struggled to remove his pants his rock hard cock had sprung out as if it had a mind of its own. It was going to be difficult not to cum as soon as he slid his prick between Holly's soft mounds but he would try and enjoy the feeling for as long as he could. He poured himself another glass of milk, the fact that it had been squeezed from a woman barely registering this time. Hydrated and ready for action he turned round and made his way toward the centre of the room.

As he approached he couldn't help but smile once again. Despite being stretched out and lying at an angle Holly's perfect breasts still jutted out magnificently. Where most pairs of tits that size might have sagged down and fallen to the side, getting caught in the armpit, Holly's stayed high and proud as if begging to be groped and fondled. If he didn't know better he would have assumed they must have been fake but no surgeon could have sculpted something so majestic. Jeremiah stared at the cleft between them where he was about to rest his cock and salivated. Heaving first one tree trunk leg then the other he stepped over the bar that held the girl's knees and positioned himself so he was astride her midriff.

"See how hard you've made me Holly?" Jeremiah said cheerfully, "I'm about ready to blow. You teasing little bitch, bout time you got what you've been begging for since you came to see me. Shall we see how sensitive those tits are first?"

Gently at first Jeremiah reached out with his hands and planted them on Holly's globes, slick with blood, sweat and tears. When Holly winced at just his first gentle touch Jeremiah was spurred on to go harder. With his trademark cruelty he dug his stubby fingers into the sensitive and abused flesh. Holly's screams and wails changed slightly in tone as he ripped at her monster tits as if he were playing the world's most macabre musical instrument. He couldn't wait any longer and shuffled forward. The head of his cock, glistening with precum, slid up Holly's toned midriff and, finally, in between her glorious breasts.

"Squeeze them together!" Jeremiah ordered his assistant. She obliged and walked round behind Holly, then reached and placed the palm of hand at the side of each breast. She pushed together, the weight of the globes surprising her, and watched as they totally enveloped Jeremiah's cock. As he felt the heat of her tits all around his dick Jeremiah moaned with delight before pushing his hips slowly forward. Like a groundhog poking out its head from his burrow Jeremiah's dick emerged from the soft home of Holly's chest.

"Would you look at that," Jeremiah exclaimed, "your tits have gobbled up my cock. They're desperate to get fucked aren't they!?"

Another slide backwards and thrust forwards followed, as did another moan of pleasure. Jeremiah was in pure ecstasy as he moved his dick between the wonderful mounds, doubtful if any man had ever experienced anything better. The feeling of this bitch's tits on his sensitive cock was heavenly. This is what women were for he thought. Nobody could ever tell him this English cunt should be allowed to roam the streets when she could be here, tied up and servicing his cock. She belonged here and so did he.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her, the sight of his cock emerging from her cleavage almost making him blow his load right there. Hands outstretched he grabbed hold of Holly's pigtails and yanked her head forward so she was forced to look down at her chest.

"God that feels incredible," he moaned, "Watch it whore, watch me fuck your tits. You like it don't you, slut? You love how my cock feels sliding between your udders. Open that mouth bitch, lick my dick."

Holly obliged as her head was yanked painfully down. With her breasts cupped and pushed upward and her head pulled down Holly's face was almost resting on her sumptuous globes. A particularly vicious thrust pushed the tip of his cock up through the channel in her breasts and ran up Holly's tongue and into her mouth. This new sensation, her warm wet tongue against his sensitive cockhead, sped up his thrusts. His hands gripped the teen's pigtails so hard his knuckles were white and as the ferocity of his thrusts increased so the sheen of sweat that had covered his body turned into a torrent. He was panting now, extremely out of breath, but he didn't relent for a moment.

"Squeeze those tits!" He roared, the woman obliging immediately. She stretched out her perfectly manicured nails as far around Holly's massive breasts as she could then, using all the strength in her long fingers, squeezed into the soft flesh. Considering the treatment they'd had the woman had no doubt how much pain her touch caused the poor girl but it was not her concern. Instead she focused on obeying her orders.

As well as pushing the giant mounds together and pulling them high she dug her fingernails into the pliant globes. She tried to ignore the pain it would be causing the teenager, as well as the sweating panting hulk of a man on top of her, but instead tried to enjoy the sensation. She may have been conflicted about hurting the girl but the firm yet forgiving flesh of her breasts did feel good. Although far from smiling the woman did get a slight pang of satisfaction as she sank her fingertips deep into each glorious mound.

Holly's gasp in pain at this new rougher treatment was drowned out completely by the noises around her. The sound of Jeremiah's exertions, the squelching as he forced his prick backwards and forwards and the general moaning of the young girl were all loud enough that this new scream barely registered. But as she once again felt the cockhead slide into her mouth the pain was no less intense. Her burned, skewered and battered breasts throbbed agonisingly with each thrust as his hips slammed into her jiggling boobs. All the poor girl could do was endure the torture and hope, pray, that once his lust was sated so would his appetite for sadistic torture.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" Jeremiah barked, although nobody was listening to him, "Get ready for a load slut, it's coming...AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

The first wad of jism came shooting out just as Jeremiah's cock emerged from its soft warm channel. The glob of thick white liquid landed right in one of Holly's brown eyes, covering most of one side of her face. Jeremiah continued to roar with pleasure as he shot load after load across first Holly's face then, as the intensity of his orgasm began to subside, drops all across Holly's glorious tits.

Even the woman, who had seen so many orgasms in her life, was surprised by just how much sperm the old man had produced. Most of Holly's face was obscured by semen and even her monster breasts had a very decent covering, growing all the time as the cum on her face dribbled onto her chest. After just a few moments Jeremiah regained his composure and looked down at his work. He let go of Holly's hair and, sliding his cock out of her slippery breasts, stepped back slightly. Holly's head went back to its previous position, resting on the frame and hoping the ground would swallow her up.

"Fuck me, that was unbelievable!" Jeremiah exclaimed, still panting heavily, "That was the best titfuck I ever had. You loved it too didn't you slut?"

When Holly didn't answer immediately Jeremiah unleashed a vicious slap to the underside of Holly's tit, sending droplets of cum flying through the air. Holly squealed loudly at the force of the slap, then screamed even louder when Jeremiah gripped both of her nipples and twisted them ferociously.

"You loved that didn't you!?"

"Yeeeeeesssssss, Sssssssiiiiiirrrrrrrr!" Holly just about managed to string together through the pain.

"You love getting your fat tits fucked don't you?"

"Yeeessssss, Ssssssiiiirrrrr!"

"And do you love it when your face is covered in cum?"

"Yeeeeessssss, Sssssiiiiiirrrrr!"

Satisfied with the answer Holly had given him Jeremiah slowly released his grip on the girl's breasts. He could see where her most recent tears had just washed some of the cum out of her eyes but the majority of her face was still coated in it. The way the cum pooled over her innocent features, her lashes stuck together with goop, would have made a much younger Jeremiah hard all over again but for now he just had to content himself with torturing the buxom babe. Of course that'd get him in the mood like nothing else on earth and then he'd be ready to fuck the bitch all over again.

He released the grip of his forefinger and thumb on Holly's large pink nipples, letting her breasts fall jiggling back to their usual position. He motioned to his assistant with one hand and she disappeared toward the back of the room. Obviously it was to retrieve something, something Holly was certain would be used to worsen her pain. Having almost regained his breath Jeremiah leaned in once again to speak to his cum covered toy.

"I'm glad," Jeremiah said, "because now you've learned your place you're gonna have load after load all over that pretty little whore face. You'll have guys queueing up to cum all over you; over your face, in your cunt, your ass and those massive titties. I bet you're looking forward to it aren't you?"

"Y...yes, Sir," Holly replied through the tears and cum.

"Would you like to see Holly? Should I show you what your face will look like for the rest of your miserable life?"

Holly was just about to agree once more when she saw the choice had already been made for her. The woman had emerged from the back of the dungeon and handed what she had retrieved over to Jeremiah. If it were not for what he had said to her just moments ago Holly would have been confused but she knew exactly what he planned to do with the handheld mirror he now held aloft. As soon as he realised Holly had worked it out he turned the mirror round, so the shiny side was facing him, and held it up in front of Holly's face.

"Time for the slut to see herself."

Jeremiah turned the mirror and Holly gasped. She had of course seen herself many times in the mirror but never before had she looked like this. For the first time in her captivity she was able to look into her own eyes, or at least she would have if one wasn't glued shut. Thick white cum almost completely covered her face and the bits of skin that were visible were red from crying and slapping.

As Holly looked back into her reflection she barely recognised herself; the girl staring back at her looked like a porn star not the innocent teenager she had been before. But Holly knew it was her and that this was what they had reduced her to. As she looked at herself in the mirror the resolve she still had, the fight that made her not give up, lost some of its intensity. She looked at what she was now, just a receptacle for cum and a toy to be tortured, and for the first time just a small part of her began to believe that this was truly all she was good for.

"What do you think Holly? Do you like that cum all over your face? What am I thinking, of course you love it! You're a desperate little whore. You're probably delighted you get to spend the rest of your life getting fucked, beaten and cum on. All that screaming's just an act to cover up how much of a horny pain slut you are."

Jeremiah took a stubby wrinkled finger and wiped it across the top of Holly's breast, taking a large dollop of his own cum on the end. With a smile on his face he lifted it high into the air above Holly and then down to her pretty little mouth.

"Open wide baby," Jeremiah teased as he popped his cum soaked finger into Holly's only slightly open mouth, "Come on honey, suck daddy's finger. I know you love guzzling cum. Come on sweetie, look at me."

Holly opened her eyes and lifted her head, staring at the cruel smiling face of her tormentor as she sucked the salty finger that he was pushing further and further down her throat. She felt so ashamed and utterly humiliated as the Texan moved his stubby finger out, scooped up more of his thick seed from her aching throbbing boobs and pushed it once more into her mouth. Helpless all she could do was suck off his cum and wait for yet more torture to follow.

"What a cum-hungry whore you are," he sneered, "that's it suck it all off. You're getting wet just tasting my spunk aren't you? Desperate to cum aren't you slut?"

As he said this Holly heard a click followed by a buzzing sound. Tied up she couldn't see what was making the noise but when Jeremiah smiled she was certain it wouldn't be good and she braced herself for another shot of pain. So it was with great surprise that when she felt a sensation on her pussy it wasn't painful. Instead, she realised, the buzzing must be from a small vibrator that was now being pressed gently but firmly against her labia. She hadn't felt any real pleasure since she had been strapped to the fucking machine down in the basement so despite the pain in the rest of her body Holly couldn't help but try to enjoy this rare and blessed treat. Just as she was about to close her eyes though the voice she hated so much spoke again.

"Even strapped to frame when you can't move a muscle you're still just aching for a fucking aren't you? You really are a dirty little whore. Keep looking at your cum covered face and I just might let you enjoy it. Do you like that buzzing on your cunt?"

Holly knew it was desperately humiliating but she couldn't help but enjoy the sensation as the woman moved the vibrator up and down her sensitive sex. It didn't diminish the pain she felt in the rest of her body but amongst it there was a slight warm feeling emanating from her crotch. It was the tiniest little light but still it was there. However, she was also deeply ashamed. As she stared at her cum stained face whilst she was unwillingly pleasured she couldn't help but feel she was letting herself down by submitting to their whims. And yet, if this monster wanted her to be a whore then that was what she must be. Anything to survive in this hellhole.

"Yes, Sir," Holly whimpered softly.

Jeremiah looked into Holly's one open eye and could almost see the shame and humiliation within it. How pathetic, he thought. If this bitch was willing to answer every question with 'yes, sir' no matter how degrading it was then she deserved everything he did to her. After all he had spanked her, caned her, milked her, had her fucked with a monster dildo, beaten her tits, skewered her, burned her and titfucked her and yet still she agreed with whatever he said. At least the pretty blonde he had brought with him had had some self respect - this English slut had only been captive a few days. He had no doubt those days had been hellish but she had shown no fight whatsoever, just meekly agreed to be tortured and abused. If Greta could do this with a girl in just a few days then when he got Melissa back he was sure she would be just as obedient.

"Filthy whore! You're a very naughty girl Holly, all you want is sex sex sex. You and your whore friends got yourself kidnapped just so you could get your slutty fix. But I'll be generous; I'll give your cunt what you want. Whilst we're doing that, I think it's time we cleaned you up. We can't send you back up to your mistress looking like this, can we?"

The last sentence made Holly's head spin. Finally, she thought, she would be getting away from this torturous bastard. That said, it had hardly been any better when she was upstairs with the woman who had treated her like shit and tortured her almost as much as the fat American. In truth she realised now that this would be her life being passed from person to person just to be raped and abused. As the old man tossed the mirror on the ground she was relieved, for she would no longer have to look at just how low she'd come.

Jeremiah knew that the innocent girl he had been torturing for the last hour or so was far from the slutty teen that were so often desperate to fuck him so he would buy them expensive gifts. She may have been beautiful with a glorious rack and a great body but he had known as soon as he'd seen her that she wasn't the type to put herself on display. But it didn't matter to him. He wanted her to think this was her fault, to blame herself for what had happened to her and her friends. With his free hand he reached down took the vibrating bullet from the woman, allowing her to disappear once more into the corner of the room. Pressing the toy harder into Holly's cunt he saw the babe gasp in pleasure, her breasts jiggling exquisitely with each breath.

"Look at me slut," Jeremiah demanded. Holly obeyed and looked the man who had tortured her so much. If she didn't know better she would have no idea how much of a sadistic psychopath he truly was. She did know better though, and for the rest of her days she would never be able to erase his face from her memory, his laughing while she screamed seared into her mind. Even now, as he pressed the buzzing toy against her sex, pleasuring her, she could gain no comfort. He had taken everything away from her and by controlling her feeling of pleasure he had removed that as well. Strapped to the frame she was utterly helpless and she knew it.

"Hurry up and wash this whore," Jeremiah barked and almost immediately the woman came out of the darkness with a bucket in hand. She set the bucket down next to frame and made her way around the metal bars and columns so she was stood by Holly's head. Holly heard the sloshing of water and, through the heat radiating from her loins, she panicked.

She would put nothing past these people and so all sorts of things ran through her head; acid, raw alcohol, something even worse. So Holly was surprised when, as a sponge was pressed against her shoulder, she felt nothing other than cold water. The woman began to move the sponge around and still Holly felt nothing save the liquid, the buzzing at her clit and the constant background pain that had become her life.

"Wash her face first," Jeremiah ordered, "and quickly, I want our little whore to be looking at me all the time."

The woman didn't hesitate and quickly sponged down Holly's face, removing the cum that was starting to crust across its surface. It took her just a few seconds until the job was adequately done and she moved back to the girl's torso. As she looked down she could see Holly's magnificent chest rising and falling with increasing speed, the effect of the stimulation plain to see. Having washed Holly's arms, neck and just the top of her chest the woman paused, waiting for her orders to begin the main event.

"The little slut's enjoying this," Jeremiah chuckled, amused by Holly's light moans of pleasure, "Wash everything off her tits, they're as dirty as she is. And be thorough. I want those udders spotless."

The woman knew exactly what this meant. He didn't want her just to clean thoroughly but roughly. Jeremiah loved making girl's suffer and unfortunately for this one her unique assets only made him more determined to watch her in pain. In a way the woman could understand why somebody would be this cruel to an innocent girl, especially this one. As she stretched her hand around the underside of one huge tit, and her fingers sank slightly into the forgiving flesh, she could understand the appeal of slapping it till the girl begged for mercy. And if you got pleasure from torturing women you may as well choose one with toys like this girl to play with. Lifting the heavy globe up slightly the woman applied the sponge to the top and began to scrub.

Holly winced in pain as the rough treatment of her tits continued. Even the waves of pleasure emanating from her crotch couldn't drown out the pain that any touch of her breasts provoked. All one would have to do was squeeze one gently and Holly would have squealed in exquisite agony. Now as the woman began to scrub earnestly Holly's moans of pleasure were replaced by groans of pain.

"Still moaning whore?" Jeremiah asked gleefully, "Do you want to cum?"

"Yyyyyy...Yes, Sir," Holly moaned, the pleasure reaching a crescendo.

"Beg for me to let you cum."

Holly paused, for a moment imagining she had too much pride to beg.

"BEG!"

"Please, Sir...let me cummmmmm,"

"Tell me what you are."

"Sir?"

"Tell me what you are and maybe I'll let you cum."

"A...a...whore, Sir."

"Whore is too good for you. You're just a little painslut. A big titty painslut desperate to be whipped and beaten so she can cum. Isn't that right Holly?"

"Yessssss, Sir," Holly moaned as the woman scrubbed her swollen nipple.

"Tell me what you are."

"I'm a...a...ppppp...pain...slut," the stuttered reply courtesy of the woman moving onto her other breast and the pleasure from between her thighs reaching fever pitch.

"Not just any old painslut. Say it."

"I'm a big t...titty painslut."

"That's right. A pathetic little painslut with two fat tits and a dripping wet cunt. And you know what slut? You're embarrassing... And you certainly don't deserve to cum!"

With a suddenness that belied his lumbering build he quickly took the vibrator away from her now slick pussy. Holly's eyes went wide at the removal of this rare source of pleasure and she tried desperately to move her hips towards it. Jeremiah laughed.

"You really thought I was going to let you cum? Hahaha, you dumb cunt. Why should I let you? You don't deserve it."

He placed his hand between Holly's legs and felt how wet she had become. It was hardly a surprise given she had had a vibrator pushed against her clit but it still amazed him how these sluts, despite their pain, could still respond so invitingly to the slightest pleasure. Once he had his fingers liberally coated in her juices he raised it up to Holly's face.

"Taste your dripping cunt you filthy slut."

Holly had no choice as Jeremiah's chubby fingers were once more forced down her throat. She gagged on the intrusion, and not because of the taste. The mental effects of what his fingers were covered in was bad enough. She flushed red as she tasted the fruits of his efforts, her body's response to the very touch of the man who had caused her so much pain.

Another pang of pain came as Jeremiah closed his hand around one of her newly washed breasts, squeezing hard as he began pumping his fingers forwards and backwards in her mouth. Holly's squeal was muffled almost entirely but Jeremiah could see the pain in the young girl's eyes as her twisted her nipple. That was enough for him and he savoured it a moment.

He motioned with his hand that the woman was to stop her washing and when she did so he reached forward and grabbed Holly's face between his hands.

"Untie the bitch."

Jeremiah turned and stormed back to his chair. It didn't take long for the woman to unbind Holly's legs, which still hung limply until a word in her ear from the woman made her straighten them. He was disappointed, it would have been amusing to watch the girl fall hard onto the floor. He would be having words about that. As Holly's arms were untied and she dropped the few inches to the floor, unsteady on her feet, her giant breasts bounced enticingly.

"Here, slut!" Jeremiah commanded, the patronisingly gentle tone of earlier gone completely. The shout rang around the room and with a small nudge in the back to encourage her Holly obeyed. Her head stared down, pigtails hanging down on either side, as she stumbled forwards. He chuckled as she raised a hand to cover her chest but recoiled, for as soon as she touched her aching tits the pain struck once more. Instead she had to make do with placing a hand between her legs, foolishly and futilely trying to preserve her modesty.

"On your knees where you belong!"

The teenager dropped to her knees, her head still bowed but her hands back by her sides. She looked straight down, the cold stone floor offering her more comfort than anything else in the room. Slowly, the pain still racking her body, she began to crawl forwards. Each movement was agony. Her huge breasts, hanging down deliciously, swung into her arms as she crawled and each time throbbed with pain. Her spanked arse, a rich purple colour now, still ached considerably. Her pussy, dripping wetness as she went, was still aglow with pleasure, stoked further as she crawled and her legs rubbed against her engorged clit.

It was only 10 or so feet to Jeremiah but it seemed to take Holly forever to get there. The Texan didn't complain. Watching the girl on her knees, where she was supposed to be, was magical. Any bitch crawling towards him would have been glorious, a reminder of how the world should be, but this was extra special. Her massive tits swinging beneath her almost made his old cock twitch again, memories of being between them still fresh. They were so big that were they not so firm and without sag he felt sure her nipples would reach the floor but her youth meant that they still looked proud even hanging down beneath her. He could see her wince with each movement, her tits slapping into each other like a Newton's cradle. Eventually she reached Jeremiah, her head hanging just inches away from his swollen belly and flaccid cock. He leant forward and grabbed her face again, looking deep into her wide brown eyes.

"How're your tits feeling, Holly?"

"They...they are...sore, Sir" she said, trailing off.

"Sore? I bet they're agony! I fucking hope so! Didn't I tell you I'd make you wish you were born a flat chested little bitch? I'd make you regret ever growing them. But I'm a little concerned. After everything I've done to them I wonder if they'll still work. Show me."

Jeremiah reached across and grabbed the jug he had poured Holly's milk out of and placed it below her. She looked down at it then back up at Jeremiah, for a moment unsure what she was to do. What did he mean still work? What else could they do except sit there and cause her pain? What was it he wanted her to...? The realisation dawned on her but still she looked up pleadingly but knowing all the while it was futile. For a moment though she thought her pleading eyes had convinced Jeremiah otherwise as he released his grip.

SMACK!!!

Holly was sent sprawling to the floor as Jeremiah delivered a brutally vicious slap to her face. She paused a moment lying on the floor as her cheek throbbed and stars flickered in front of her eyes. Even by Jeremiah's standards the blow had been particularly savage and the young girl hoped for as long as possible to recover. There would be no moment of respite though, a fact that by now she was all too aware of.

"Up, cunt!"

With trembling limbs Holly slowly got back onto her knees. Though usually strong and healthy on account of her sporting activities a combination of lack of food, lack of sleep and the physical and mental effects of being raped and tortured over the course of these few days had taken their toll and now she was barely able to lift herself. Still she did, eager to avoid another blow that would send her head spinning once more. Kneeling obediently she prayed he would not make her do what she thought he was about to.

"Are you deaf slut? I said show me!"

"Sir...please...show you what?"

Jeremiah sighed at the stupidity of the girl. Surely she had learnt by now that she should obey without question. He had been clear when he had told her and yet she still feigned ignorance. No she couldn't be that stupid. She was only disobedient. He would certainly punish her for that in time, and make sure to send the news up to Greta. With anger etched on his face he grabbed Holly by one of her pigtails and hauled her up so she was kneeling up on her knees back pressed against his crotch, head leaned back and face contorted in pain.

"Dumb cunt. I want you to show me they work. Are you that fucking stupid? Do I have to spell it out?" Jeremiah snarled at the girl then reached down and brutally squeezed one of her ripe tits, making the girl wail once more, "You're going to kneel over that jug, take both of these fat udders and you're going to milk them. Squeeze them hard, tightly, right at the end until that milk squirts out. I want it full to overflowing. Understand slut?"

"Yeeeeeiiisssss, Sirrrrrrrr," Holly squealed as Jeremiah continued to rip at her breasts.

"Do it then!" Jeremiah shouted, throwing her once more onto the floor.

Holly didn't pause at all this time and got back onto her knees as quickly as she could. She turned to face Jeremiah, a couple of feet away from him and bent over slightly. She looked down at the jug she was to fill. It wasn't overly big but to her it seemed impossibly large and she could barely imagine how much it would hurt trying to fill it. Her hands trembled as she brought them slowly up to her chest.

Even before she touched them her breasts throbbed with pain, a pain that exploded as her hands grazed the skin. She winced at the feeling but knew it would be as nothing to what was to come. With tears welling up once more in her eyes she bent over further until her breasts hung just centimetres above the lip of the jug. She held each massive breast gently in each hand, her fingers slowly moving to just behind her large pale areolas. Feeling Jeremiah's lecherous gaze burning into her sniffed back a tear and squeezed.

Unlike previous sounds of pain the noise that echoed around the room was not a sudden shriek, but a protracted wail building up to a crescendo. Holly had slowly increased the pressure on her breasts and thus slowly increased the pain. She watched demoralised as, whilst she was squeezing hard and in tremendous pain nothing happened; no milk squirted into the jug. Instead just a trickle of red came out of each breast, red which slowly became pink.

"That's it Holly, keep going. Let's get those tits working again. Harder."

She gulped in preparation as she manoeuvred her thumb and forefinger right behind her nipples and squeezed. Two streams of pinkish liquid squirted out to the soundtrack of Holly's anguished cry. With her inexperienced and pierced nipples it was impossible for to control the jets that sprang forth. One breast's load went straight into the jug as intended, the other, not aimed as well, squirted forwards onto the floor and splashed up over Jeremiah's foot.

"Careful you dumb bitch!"

Jeremiah's anger was feigned of course, having tiny droplets of milk on his leg was hardly a concern. He had to cover up for now his true emotion; delight. There had been a nagging worry in his mind even as he had rejoiced in burning her that his attentions might have rendered her unable to lactate, something Greta would have been most disappointed in. And so these two streams of bloodied milk springing forth were a great sight and a load off his mind. Now he could enjoy the show.

What a show it promised to be. Watching Holly cradle her giant tits then cry out as she squeezed them was up there with some of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Why had he not done this before? He had spent many a happy hour abusing women at his own hand but watching them do it to themselves, he now realised, was just as titillating. So as Holly stole herself for another painful squeeze he sat back, smiled, and let his hand run down to his crotch once more.

This time Holly lined up both her nipples so they were directly above the jug, forced to press her huge breasts together. After a brief pause she once more positioned her fingers and squeezed. This time instead of pink the milk she extracted flowed white, the last vestiges of the blood from her ordeal seemingly removed. She wailed in pain but kept her eyes firmly fixed; not wanting to waste a drop and prolong this ordeal.

The jug seemed to filling up as if mere drops were entering it rather than the two streams she was enduring agony to produce. Slowly but surely though the level rose, though Holly could scarcely take the pain any longer. When it became too much she paused, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

"Keep going," Jeremiah whispered lecherously, "squeeze those udders, bitch. Milk yourself like the fucking cow you are."

She tried to block out the insults but despite everything she was still not entirely used to being spoken to like this. Yet after three days of being called every name under the sun - whore, slut, bitch, cunt, cow - her skin was thicker now than it had been to begin with. So, rather than collapse in humiliation at this latest tirade, Holly simply clasped her fingers around her swollen nipples and cried out in pain.

It took another few minutes of agony for the poor girl until the milk she had produced began to flow over the sides of the jug. By now the tops of her breasts and her cheeks were soaking wet with tears, her throat hoarse from screaming, her legs sore from kneeling. She immediately let her hands fall by her sides, desperate to save her breasts further punishment. Her head still hung low, staring at the floor. Her shoulders shook as she began to sob, her breasts wobbling like jell-o with each snatched breath.

The slow applause echoed around the room, accompanied by a beaming smile on the face of the old Texan. Holly may not have reacted to this latest indignity but it didn't matter to him. Watching the bitch milk herself, and watching the agony it caused her, had been glorious. He was glad there were cameras all around the room for he would want to relive that scene again and again. Perhaps he would show it to Melissa as a warning what would happen if she didn't obey. Fuck he might make her do it anyway for while they might not be comparable to the giant cans on this bitch his own slave had a pretty sizeable rack herself. That was for another time though.

Right now he must enjoy what was in front of him. Watching the girl sob, the tears streaming down her face, the way her tits jiggled up and down and knowing he was the cause of her misery made him not only happy but proud. Like anybody that had a hobby he took great pride at being talented at what he was doing. And if this snivelling English bitch was not proof of a job well done then nothing was.

"Congratulations slut, you've filled the jug with your jugs," Jeremiah chuckled, laughing at his own bad joke while Holly continued to weep. He lifted the jug and placed it on the table and gestured to the woman in the background. She came quickly, two lengths of rope coiled in her hand, and stood immediately behind Holly, "You've finally found your place. A kneeling cow whore only useful for fucking, whipping and milking. Now be a good cunt and don't struggle, it's time for our next game."

These words did little to change Holly's response; she continued to kneel and sob in front of Jeremiah. The woman looked up at him and, when he nodded his head, she pushed forward. Holly tried to bring her arms up to break her fall but she barely made it, her soft breasts taking the brunt of the fall and causing another wailing cry. The girl tried to get up but she quickly felt a foot on top of her head, grinding her face into the floor. She tried to struggle but found hands holding down her feet and, with little strength left, there was nothing she could do.

"What did I just say, cunt?" Jeremiah called down at her as he pushed her face harder into the stone, "Stop your pathetic struggling. You're a slave, a whore, and you will do as you are fucking told!"

Allowing the last shreds of fight to leave Holly did just that and lay still underneath Jeremiah's heel. He was right, she was all those things and she could do nothing to defy him. She had no choice but to submit and let him do what he wanted to her. She prayed he would soon tire or that at some point, somehow, somebody would come to rescue them. In the meantime though there was no course open to her but total obedience.

It was then she felt the rope being slowly wound around her ankle. Although consumed by fear as to what the next 'game' might entail Holly remained stoically still, compliant and obedient. The woman worked with characteristic haste, tying the ends of the rope around first one then the other of Holly's ankles. The knots were tight, the rope already rubbing on the girl's smooth skin, but in no time at all they were ready. A quick nod to Jeremiah from the woman signalled that the next stage was about to begin. Jeremiah moved his foot to Holly's back and then, forcing it down, used her as a springboard to rise to his feet. With his captive lying dejected on the floor he walked forward and nodded to the woman.

"Hang the bitch up," Jeremiah said, more for Holly's benefit than the woman's, "I'll fetch the toys."

With a strength that belied her slender build the woman turned, both ropes slung over her shoulders, and pulled. Holly didn't realise what was happening for a moment until the slight tug on her ankles became a sustained pull and began to move her backwards. Panicked she stretched out her hands in an attempt to prevent it but it was no use. She couldn't reach the legs of the chair nor did the stone floor offer any grip. Besides, even if she could prevent it a moment it would be useless. She would simply get another scalding from Jeremiah and no doubt further punishment. So she remained meek, only resolving to whimper as her battered body was dragged across the cold stone.

Once the woman had dragged her about ten foot she turned slightly and pulled Holly over to where she had been bound to the metal frame which had now made its way back into the shadows. Here the woman paused and Holly turned to watch as she threw the ends of the ropes up over a beam high in the ceiling. The coils were long enough that they fell to the floor in a pile once they were over the beam. Although Holly already had a pretty good idea what was coming next she still lay there motionless, the helplessness of her situation more than apparent to her.

Calmly the woman took the ends of both ropes and took them the far side of the room. Holly could no longer see what the woman was doing so she put her face down on the floor once again and waited for the next painful indignity. Now shrouded in darkness the woman placed the ends of the ropes in two devices that were attached to the wall, wooden boxes with a metal pulley system inside. The ropes were threaded into the boxes and locked in place and the woman moved toward a small control box on the wall. She took one look at the girl lying prostrate on the floor then pressed a small button on the panel.

Almost immediately Holly felt the tug on her ankles and already she knew what was to happen. For just a few feet she was dragged still further along the floor, the abrasive surface near agony on her pain racked body. Soon though she felt the first movement upwards as her feet slowly left the floor. The pulleys whirred constantly, pulling her steadily, inexorably up. Holly's torso was dragged along the floor just a little longer before it too joined her legs in rising off the ground. She used her arms to lift her face off the floor lest it be scraped along it but soon that too was hoisted up into the air.

Holly could now only hang limply as she was lifted wholly off the ground. The pulleys continued to work until her head was three feet off the ground. The whirring stopped and Holly came to a sudden stop. The woman turned back to look at the girl she had strung up, swaying slightly to and fro. Her legs were spread just wider than shoulder width apart allowing full access to her pussy, the very hole Xiang had earlier filled with the monstrous dildo. The teen's toned midriff was stretched out and beneath it her gigantic breasts stood proud, falling down almost into her face. Even from this distance the woman could see the pain in the girl's wide brown eyes but again she could do nothing to help her.

"Very good," came the voice of the Texan as he too emerged from the shadows, a pile of various implements clutched in his arms, "a piñata for us to play with."

Jeremiah walked toward Holly with yet another broad smile on his face. He knew that in just a few moments the babe would be wailing like a banshee once again as he beat her with the myriad of weapons he carried over. The sounds he had heard over his time with this glorious teen would stay with him until the end of his days and he was keen to add further notes to the composition. He waddled forward until he was mere inches away from Holly, her still intact womanly scent wafting into his nose. Just above his eye line he could see the delicate lips of her cunt glistening with the juices he had forced her to secrete. It was too inviting to resist as he thrust his face forward into her inviting sex.

"Mmmmmmm," Jeremiah moaned as his tongue lapped feverishly at Holly's pussy, "that's one fine tasting teenage twat. Think it's about time we gave it some attention."

He pulled away, the taste of his captive lingering on his tongue.As his eyes cast downward he dropped the arsenal to the floor and Holly gazed upon it; canes, belts, paddles, floggers. She knew already she would soon be beaten with them with the same viciousness and cruelty Jeremiah had previously shown. And there would be no escape, tied up and hanging helplessly, all parts exposed for him to do what he wanted with. Holly may have been in near constant pain since her capture but still the prospect of the agony to follow filled her with dread.

Jeremiah though was positively salivating at the thought and the fact he knew Holly would be dreading it only added to his excitement. He could just imagine what was going through the little slut's head; no doubt infantile musing befitting of a stupid little girl. Her thoughts weren't really his concern though; of far more interest was the girl's spectacular body. He looked down at what had quickly become his favourite toys. Her gigantic tits were now level with his navel and Jeremiah was easily able to grip both globes tightly. Holly groaned as her abused breasts were once again man handled, then cried out as Jeremiah delivered a succession of slaps to the sensitive mounds.

"Flogger."

Jeremiah's order was heard and immediately the woman bent down and lifted up a black leather flogger with tails ¼ of an inch thick and two inches wide. Each tail was about a foot long and the woman was in no doubt how much pain it would cause having been on the receiving end of similar implements many times. She held it in front of Holly's face for a moment for she knew Jeremiah would want her to see what was about to be used on her then handed it to the American. He smiled as he weighed the heft of the weapon, then slowly began to run across Holly's smooth skin.

"You know what's coming don't you slut?" Jeremiah asked, not anticipating a response, "I'm gonna beat every inch of your hot little body. When I'm finished there won't be anywhere that hasn't been caned, flogged, whipped or beaten. I'm gonna beat your ass. I'm gonna beat your cunt. I'm gonna beat your belly. I'm gonna beat your back. And of course I'm gonna beat your fucking massive tits. And all I need you to do is scream for me. Can you do that?"

When Holly didn't answer immediately Jeremiah reached down with his free hand and pinched the skin on the underside of Holly's tit. The flogger was making its way down one of her legs before coming to rest on her pretty pink pussy.

"I said can you do that?"

"Yyyyyy...yes, Sir," she whimpered.

"Excellent. Then we'll begin."

CRACK!!!!!!

"AIGGGGGHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

So many doors and corridors blurred into one as Olivia was marched along, the Turk's iron grip showing no sign of relenting. After what felt like an age they turned round yet another corner and through a door. Only this time rather than another lifeless stone corridor Mehmet led the petite blonde into a large stone room in which a woman in a luxurious dressing gown with bright red hair stood in front of four shivering, naked women.

"You're late," the red haired woman snapped at Mehmet as he pushed Olivia forward into the room, "bring the bitch over here."

Of course Olivia was in no position to resist as Mehmet marched her into the centre of the room and lined her up next to the rest of the women. She could scarcely see anything, just the outline of shapes in front and to the side of her, but if she had been able to she would have seen four other women with the same headgear she was currently sporting. The red headed woman, huge fake breasts sticking out obscenely beneath her gown, walked along the line and inspected each girl individually. With long nailed fingers she poked and prodded various parts of their bodies, nodding her approval.

When she got to Olivia only her silhouetted shape was visible but still the petite teen recoiled as she saw a hand extend towards her. She flinched as she felt a talon grab her breast, squeezing the soft flesh as if looking for something. Next a finger was forced into Olivia's tight pussy, causing the girl to literally jump into the air.

"Very good," the woman said, returning to her original spot, "listen up cunts. You are to be presented to some special guests. They will use you however they want, and you will obey them without question. Is that understood?"

"Aaaaahhhh," came the response from the five gagged girls, causing the woman and Mehmet to chuckle loudly. Olivia's mind was racing, thinking about what those words would mean. In the course of her horrible captivity the only other kidnapped girls she'd seen had been her friends and until now she ha had no idea of the scale of this operation. But as she'd been brought into the room she had seen at least four other figures - presumably all of them kidnapped just like her. And now she was about to be given to a series of 'guests', and it was all she could do not to imagine the horrors that awaited her there. The evil of these people truly knew no bounds.

"Turn to your right and grab the slave in front of you," the red woman ordered, "now march forward."

Olivia obeyed immediately, all too aware after her escape attempt the perils of disobedience. She reached forward and felt for the shoulder of the women in front of her, having to reach up to the much taller slave she stood next to. She couldn't make out any detail and so had no idea what the woman looked like but it didn't matter, all she could focus on was surviving the next ordeal.

After a few steps she heard a door open up in front of her and then a chorus of shouting, cheering and whooping filled her ears. She felt like a Christian being shepherded into the arena, the crowd baying for the prisoners blood. Only it wasn't her blood this crowd wanted. She didn't recognise the language - it certainly wasn't English - but she could feel the primal and lecherous nature of them, the cacophony of raucous testosterone-fuelled cheering swimming all around her.

"Gentlemen," the red woman addressed the crowd in her heavily accented English, "here is your entertainment for this evening. They are yours to do with as you wish. Enjoy!"

With that there was a loud clap. Followed by a roar. Olivia could just about see the outline of the encroaching crowd but she could do nothing as the first hand was laid on her. Within seconds she had hands all over her, squeezing her breasts, her arse cheeks, snaking into her cunt. Another hand grabbed the back of her head and then a tongue was forced into her wide open mouth, the stench of stale cigarettes overwhelming her. She moaned as a finger wormed its way between her pert arse cheeks and into her forbidden passage.

Suddenly there was a tug on her breasts and Olivia was dragged across the room, barely able to keep her footing as her nipples were pulled painfully. With great force she was flung down onto what felt like a sofa, but there was no respite for her. Once again hands were all over her but this time they were not indiscriminate. She was manoeuvred onto her back and pulled so that her head was lying off the edge. Olivia already knew what was coming as the now familiar salty taste of a cock glistening with precum was forced into her gaping mouth.

Olivia's head was spinning as the large prick was forced further down her throat. With the fabric over her nose and her mouth now filled with dick she struggled to breath, desperately sucking in as much air as she could through her nostrils. With her hands unbound she tried desperately to push the man out of her mouth just so she could catch a breath but there was no stopping him, he was enjoying the feel of her hot mouth far too much to pull out. Instead, a few slaps to her perky breasts were enough to dissuade her protestations.

As she focused on just staying alive it took her a moment to register another set of hands, this time pulling her legs apart. A moment later and she felt the pressure of a man at the entrance to her pussy. There was no standing on ceremony, one thrust and the man was completely buried in the petite teen. She groaned at the violation but with a huge cock in her mouth no sound came out. Instead all she managed to achieve was a groan from the man with his shaft deep in her throat, every sound she tried to make only serving to stimulate him more.

Knowing that she had no powers to resist both men began to fuck her as brutally as they dared. They couldn't see the girl's face, nor did they know anything about her, but it didn't matter. She had a great body and some tight fuck holes and that was all they cared about. Whenever Ms Schweinberg hosted them she always provided top quality cunt and this little one was no exception.

All round the room the slaves were now being violated, all of them servicing at least two cocks. The man fucking Olivia's throat looked around with a smile on his face as he saw one of his friends bury his pole in the ass of some black bitch, while another was sliding his cock between another girl's big pillowy tits. Looking down he could see the head of his cock in this girl's throat and it spurred him on, ramming home while he grabbed her tits in his powerful hands. Oblivious to the girl's suffering he used her like a sex toy, fucking her with not a shred of mercy.

The renewed vigour with which her face was being used made Olivia fight back again but it was futile. While she still couldn't believe anyone could be as cruel as the three monsters she had first met in this hell, that there were more of these sadists out there in the world was too much. And that someone could use her as these two were now, so roughly and without a single thought for her, staggered her. Did they not know she had been kidnapped and was doing this against her will? Or worse, did they know that and were still prepared to rape her this brutally?

She was just thinking that when she heard a loud groan above her, and a strengthening of the grip on her breasts. The man facefucking her and her mouth was filled with his thick seed. Wave after wave of cum gushed into her throat, making the task of breathing even harder. She coughed and spluttered but between the gag and the still raging cock there was little she could do. It was a relief when he pulled out and she managed to force some of the clogging liquid out of her mouth, the white substance dribbling down her face. The relief was short lived though as no sooner had one cock been taken out another was in its place, this one even larger than the first. All the while the man raping her pussy was becoming more and more brutal, pounding into her sensitive sex pitilessly and extremely painfully.

It was all too much for Olivia to process, her mind was racing, and she was still focusing on getting enough oxygen into her lungs to keep her alive. When she felt that familiar shudder and feeling of gallons of cum coating the walls of her pussy there was a brief respite, but predictably it didn't last long. Another man was there to take his place, but this time her cunt wasn't his intended target.

Some barked commands in a language Olivia didn't understand followed and the huge cock in her mouth was pulled out. Roughly and with great ease she was lifted up and put back down again, this time onto flesh rather than the soft sofa. Before she had a chance to realise what was happening her mouth was once more stuffed to the brim, and then she felt it.

The push against her tight arse sparked her into life and she bucked her legs, desperate to fight off the imminent invasion. But surrounded by lust crazed men with only one thing on their minds she was easily subdued, and there was nothing she could do as her sphincter's resistance was broken. With no thought for how much it would hurt her the man thrust forward with all his might, totally burying his pole deep inside her rectum and lifting her high into the air as he did so. And her pussy didn't remain empty for long either.

Olivia was now completely stuffed, a cock in each of her pussy and arsehole and a giant prick fucking her mouth, testicles slamming into her face. The three men fucked her so insanely brutally she was sure she would split open, that they would fuck her so hard they would meet in the middle. She barely noticed when another man grabbed her hand and placed it around his cock, forcing her to jerk him off as he watched her brutal rape. To the outside observer the room was now hot with two dozen sweating, panting men, filled with a cacophony of grunting, groaning and the slap of flesh on flesh and the air thick with the smell of sweat and cum. But to Olivia all that paled into insignificance, the only world she could now imagine was the sheer horror of what she was experiencing. To have gone from a happy go lucky, innocent teenager with her whole life ahead of her to this, a victim of an astonishingly brutal gang rape, was an unimaginable tragedy. And so as her throat was once more pumped full of cum it was as if all hope was flowing out of her.

Yet another squeal rang around the torture chamber, this one much hoarser than the first few had been. Lucy though didn't think about it as she tightened another loop of copper wire across one of Melissa's now obscene breasts. Blotting out all the other sounds in the room she twisted the pliers one more time, the metal sinking into the bulging flesh just behind the nipple, until it was as tight as the other four loops she had made. The hanging blonde was wailing and writhing as Lucy finished but the tall, raven haired girl ignored it, finishing off before looking over at Greta. A quick nod from the German signified a job well done.

Greta had watched with pleasure as Lucy had joined in her in horribly constricting Melissa's breasts. Although at first she had worried about the girl's hesitations by the third loop they seemed to have disappeared, and the sultry teenager had merely gone about her duty methodically, seemingly ignoring the desperate cries of pain from their blonde captive. Now as she finished the final loop Greta could truly begin to see the makings of a top class dominatrix, torturer and who knows, one day, perhaps an accomplice. Satisfied, Greta reached out a hand and grabbed the sobbing blonde's hair.

"Hey cunt," she spat, trying to get the American to look her in the eyes, "look at me cunt. Look at me or I'll put another five of those on."

Of course, it would be next to impossible to put just one more loop of copper wire round Melissa's tits, let alone five. The German took a moment to look at what the two of them had done to the girl's once plump and luscious breasts. Each one now stuck out straight ahead, as if they were so alarmed at what was happening they were standing to attention. Along her breasts at roughly one inch intervals there were circles of copper wire, each loop digging painfully into the sensitive flesh. Between each loop of metal the previously pale white skin of Melissa's breasts was now a revolting deep purple and bulged obscenely outwards.

Lucy and Greta's combined attentions and turned the American's perfectly formed love-mounds into obscene perversions of their former selves. And by the way Melissa was still thrashing and wailing in her bonds, they were now far more painful than they'd ever been before. Desperate to avoid any further torment, Melissa turned her tear filled eyes on her vicious oppressor.

"Look at what we've done to your tits slut," Greta said, pulling the blonde's hair to force her to look down. The girl's eyes once more went wider than they'd ever gone as she stared at what her breasts had become. Lucy was filled with shame as she imagined what was going through the poor American's head; no doubt wondering if they'd ever recover from the abuse. For someone who was so proud of her own body Lucy couldn't imagine being so disfigured, even if it was only temporary. Yet it had been her that had subjected the poor girl to this dreadful torture. And Lucy knew this would not be the end.

"That's right cunt," Greta continued, "have a good look at your tits. When you were showing them off to try and get a job you never thought they'd end up like this."

"I...I...never..." Melissa sobbed, barely able to speak and unable to tear her eyes away from her bulging purple breasts.

"Shut the fuck up," Greta snapped, "we don't want to hear you speak. In fact, we're going to put that mouth to much better use. It's time you thanked me for teaching you to be a good slave. Take her down."

Greta looked over at Lucy with no further instructions. The reason behind this was simple - she wanted Lucy to figure much of this out for herself so she was actively participating in the girl's torture, not merely following orders. And Lucy seemed to be taking to it exceedingly well. The teenager didn't hesitate at all this time, looking up at the chains that held Melissa in the air. She followed them up to the ceiling, spying the pulley to which they were attached and quickly working out what she had to do.

Ignoring the plaintive groans of the American Lucy held her around the waist and pulled down, continuing until the manacles around Melissa's wrists were within reach. With her one free hand she unclipped them, the chains shooting up to the ceiling, and the sobbing blonde cradled in her arms.

"Good," Greta continued, hiding her pleasure at Lucy's rapidly strengthening obedience, "bring her over."

Lucy tried not to think about what she was doing as she hooked both arms underneath Melissa's armpits and lifted her so she was easier to carry. She was heavy, an almost dead weight as she slumped motionless, but Lucy was strong and she knew she would receive no help so she hauled the girl across towards Greta, who was striding toward the other side of the room. A thin sheen of sweat covered the girl, no doubt on account of her wild screaming just a few moments before, and Lucy had to continually readjust her grip, all the while doing her best not to touch .

As Lucy dragged the blonde across the stone floor the German walked right into the gloom at the edge of the basement. For a moment Lucy merely waited for her to return but then there was a small crack of light and a whistle signalled for her to follow.

Lucy half carried and half dragged the slumped blonde and now began to make out some detail in the gloom of the basement, just about able to see the array of cruel whips, paddles and various other BDSM gear that was hanging on the walls. It was a good job the American had her eyes closed, for Lucy was sure seeing all the things that could be used on her would just send her mad. In fact the leggy teen was a little confused as to why she seemed so blasé about these implements, baring in mind it had been only a couple of days ago she had felt the sting of them herself and it was more than likely her best friends were being subjected to such cruelties even now. What was troubling Lucy was that as she walked towards what she now saw was a door in the wall of the basement was that she didn't seem to be troubled by that at all.

The door was only open a crack when she got there, allowing just a sliver of harsh white light to permeate and illuminate her side of the wall. Lucy realised there was no way she could pass through that small crack with her cargo so she set the American down, allowing her sweaty body to merely slide off her and onto the floor.

Unbound as she was Melissa could easily have tried to get up and make an escape attempt, possibly take one of those implements to threaten Lucy, but she didn't. For a moment Lucy caught her own thoughts telling the blonde to stay still, distressingly similar to exactly what had been said to her. She pushed it out of her mind though; she was nothing like these monsters. That's what she had to tell herself.

The door was on a sliding mechanism, built into the stone of the basement wall so it would be invisible to anyone who didn't know it was there. Reaching her fingers around the side Lucy pulled right hard and was surprised that the door opened with comparative ease. There was a flash of bright white light that dazzled the black haired beauty for a moment. Stunned, she stood staring wide eyed into the room that she had revealed.

In the ceiling was a bright white spotlight, hanging down and illuminating everything in the centre of the room and left Lucy in no doubt about what she was looking at. The chains hanging from the ceiling, the large wooden table in the middle of the room, and off to one side a heavy wooden chair with multiple straps and wires hanging off it. Lucy shuddered as she gazed at the sight in front of her; the sight of the room she had woken up in three days before.

Flashes back to those horrendous hours filled her head: waking up hanging from the ceiling; being been anally raped while strapped to a wooden horse; having those dildos rip themselves away just as she was about to cum while strapped to a chair. If the last day or so had helped her to get over those horrors seeing the very same place in front of her brought it all back.

"In now," Greta snapped, impatient at Lucy's hesitance, "bring the bitch."

Lucy looked over at the German who was standing by that table, face contorted into a snarl as she started at Lucy. The English girl was in no doubt who was in charge here and Lucy was reminded that though she was unbound and not being tortured she was still a slave, she had no choice but to obey. So despite her reluctance she turned round, once more picked Melissa up under the armpits and half dragged, half carried her into the room.

Greta didn't say anything as she watched Lucy lugging the dead weight of the blonde over to the middle of the room. Indeed she was enjoying watching the teenager carry the suffering American over towards her. She had been impressed with how easily Lucy had taken to her new role and though it by no means meant she wouldn't get some rough treatment in the future - Greta knew it was important always to remind slaves of their place - if she kept this up the German might have found a wonderful asset. When Lucy eventually got over to the table having made her way across the expanse of the stone floor she had a slight sheen of sweat and was beginning to pant. Greta took a few steps towards her and bent down to grab Melissa's legs, before nodding at Lucy.

Between the two of them the women almost effortlessly lifted Melissa up onto the table. Lucy was surprised just how strong Greta seemed to be but focused on doing her job as well as she could. Once they'd put her down the German made a vague signal with her hand and then began to push the American, Lucy following suit until she was positioned in the centre. Her eyes were still closed as if she were trying to shut out what was happening, but Lucy knew Greta and knew that tactic wouldn't work for long. Seemingly satisfied the German reached underneath the table and pulled out four lengths of thin coarse rope, before handing them to Lucy.

"Tie the cunt's ankles," she said bluntly, "then her wrists."

With that Greta turned and made her way over to the gloom at the sides of the basement, just as she had so often when Lucy had been in a similar position. Now then she could relax a little for she was content that whatever horrible torture was next it would not be intended for her. Rather than wait terrified about what Greta would return with she set about the task at hand. Looking at the rope she could make out four distinct lengths and so began tying them to Melissa's limbs. As she pulled the first knot tight on one leg she heard the girl stir but she made no attempt to shake her off, allowing Lucy to tighten the knot once more. She had only managed to tie both ankles when Greta returned and placed a couple of items on the table beside the almost catatonic blonde.

Lucy looked over at the things on the table which she recognised only too well. There she could clearly make out a wooden paddle, and images of her brutally thrashing her best friend's breasts came flooding back. And next to it, the huge dildo she'd had to use to fuck Holly while Greta forced her pussy into her face. Lucy could still hear Holly's muffled screams as she'd brought the paddle down again and again on her sensitive breasts.

Seeing those items she knew immediately what was to come, but to her great shame her body responded in a way she'd never expected. Almost as soon as she saw the paddle and dildo she felt a tingle in her groin. Stealthily she placed a hand there and to her immense shame she felt just a drop of wetness on her tender lips.

Surely she couldn't really be getting off on this? She had just spent half an hour torturing this poor girl in an unimaginably cruel way and now she had realised she was about to rape and beat her even more; and yet she was dripping between her thighs. As these thoughts raced through her head she heard a click from Greta and realised she still had work to do.

As Lucy moved round to tie the remaining lengths of rope around Melissa's wrists she saw out the corner of her eye Greta climb up onto the table, take Melissa's legs and pull them into the air. Just as she slipped the first knot on Greta began tying each length of rope to small rings that hung from the ceiling; rings Lucy recognised as the ones Holly's new nipple rings had first been attached to. Greta made sure the knots were tight and that Melissa's legs were spread, leaving her pussy totally spread and at her mercy.

Lucy had done one wrist when Greta climbed down, reached under the table and produced a small wedge of wood which she placed under the small of Melissa's back. Lucy already knew what was about to happen so she just carried on, making a tight noose and slipping it over the Americans one remaining wrist. Greta then moved over and effortlessly tied the ropes on Melissa's wrists to eyelets on the underside of the table, stretching Melissa out painfully. Now that she was ready Lucy knew what was about to happen and she had already reached out for the strap on when Greta turned to her.

"Strap up," she said sternly, and Lucy did. She had never worn a strap on before her kidnapping but after her previous experience she knew how to do it. Tightening the strap she felt a slight change from her previous time, a small nub that pressed against her clitoris, not entirely unpleasantly. The dildo itself was huge, just like the one she'd fucked Holly with, and Lucy knew the girl was likely to enjoy this even less than her friend had. Greta had moved round to Melissa's head and placed her hands either side of her face, her skeletal fingers reaching across her tear stained cheeks and leaning over so she was just inches away.

"Look at me you snivelling cunt," Greta snapped, and Melissa obeyed immediately, "this is what's going to happen now. You're going to thank me for teaching you how to be a proper slave. Do you know how you're going to do that, whore? You're going to lick my pussy. You're going to lick me out until I cum all over your face. Can you do that?"

Melissa waited a moment, staring into the unforgiving eyes of her tormentor. At this distance she could see every emotion of Greta's piercing green eyes, searching desperately for a crumb of comfort, any semblance of hope she could cling onto. She couldn't believe anybody could possibly be this cruel, that could inflict the sort of pain she had on her and not feel any empathy. And yet as she stared upwards she knew that this woman felt nothing but hate for her. There would be no respite until Greta was satisfied and Melissa would merely have to obey and hope, pray, the German tired of torturing her.

"Yes mistress," she muttered meekly.

"Good," Greta said, not giving anything away with her stony features, "and to give you some incentive, my assistant is going to fuck you. Here!"

Greta snapped at Lucy and the girl swiftly made her way over to that end of the table. Greta waited until the teen was stood next to her and then forcefully turned Melissa's head. It took a moment but as soon as Melissa saw the monstrously sized dildo her eyes went wide and she tried to shake her head, gibbering at Greta.

"No...please...I...I...can't no please..."

"Shut the fuck up," Greta snapped, turning the girl back to face her, "that's going in your cunt whether you like it or not. And she's going to fuck you until I cum. And to give you even more encouragement, we're going to beat your fucking tits. If you weren't such a disobedient cunt maybe I'd trust you to do a good job without her, but I can't. Ready?"

Melissa merely nodded her head for after hearing what was about to happen she couldn't bring herself to speak. Seeing the size of that dildo, nearly a foot long and as thick as her arm, she simply couldn't believe that it was going to be forced into her pussy. She'd had plenty of things inside her over the years of course, including Jeremiah's stinking prick, but that was by far the biggest thing she had ever seen let alone fucked. It was so big she was sure it would split her in two - there was no way she'd be able to survive that surely. To make matters worse, if that were possible, she would have to endure more, even brutal treatment to her already tortured breasts. With all that, the prospect of having to lick the pussy of her torturer was hardly worth thinking about.

Greta didn't bother waiting for Melissa to confirm she was ready. Truth be told she was desperate to get the girl tonguing her dripping pussy. The girl's wailing and screaming as they'd tightened the copper wire on her tits had turned her on so much she was almost worried she'd cum as soon as the bound girl began to stimulate her. Except Greta knew there was no danger of that. She had the discipline to hold off for as long as she needed, at least until the bitch had taken a pounding from the teenage slave. For as much as Greta was excited to get her rocks off the real purpose of this was to get Lucy once again torturing a slave. She turned to her teenage helper and nodded, signalling it was time to begin.

Lucy tried not to think about what she had to do, she merely walked round to the other side of the table and clambered onto it. The monster dildo bucked up and down as she crawled, on her knees, forwards until the massive rubber cock was hovering just above Melissa's splayed cunt. Knowing Greta was watching Lucy extended her hand and lightly touched the blonde's sensitive pussy lips. She flinched in her bonds but couldn't escape Lucy's touch as she probed her finger down the slit and the slowly inside Melissa's vagina.

As Lucy slid her finger further in she noted there wasn't a hint of wetness - she was going to have to force the massive cock up the poor girl's dry cunt. She paused for a moment, wondering whether she should ask Greta for some lube or anything which might alleviate the girl's suffering just a little. But she thought better of it, knowing that the pain was exactly what Greta wanted. With a stony expression on her face she shuffled forward and placed the tip of the giant cock at the entrance to Melissa's sex.

The sadistic German watched with a grin as Lucy slowly eased the gigantic strap on into the American's cunt, drinking in the blonde's tortured wails. As her apprentice eased the monstrous cock up Greta was pleased to see that the trepidation and shame that Lucy had felt when she'd fucked the big titted bitch she'd been taken with seemed to have taken a back seat. Although she was by no means relishing her new role the way Greta did, to have come as far as she had in such a short period of time was very encouraging. As Lucy continued to slide that huge cock into Melissa, Greta clambered onto the table.

"You ready to start bitch?" Greta asked, although not really waiting for an answer as she positioned her crotch over the wailing babe's face, "Get licking!"

Unceremoniously Greta plonked herself down, forcing her pussy right onto Melissa's face. The American was still moaning in pain as Greta ground her sex right onto the blonde's mouth, practically smothering her as Lucy continued to force the cock forwards, trying to avert her eyes from the stare of the German. Feeling no attempt to try to pleasure her Greta reached for a paddle and, with one swift movement, sent it crashing into Melissa's distended purple breast.

Even with the Greta sat on top of her, muffling the sound, the scream that Melissa let out was blood-curdling, chilling Lucy to her very core. She had tried to block out the girl's pain filled groans as she'd forced the dildo ever deeper but this was impossible to ignore. What made it worse is Lucy knew it wouldn't be long before she too was swinging a paddle into those much abused tits.

"Lick me you cunt!" Greta shouted, "lick me good or you'll get plenty more!"

The blow had the desired effect as Melissa, desperate to avoid another strike, stuck out her tongue and desperately began lapping at Greta's already dripping sex. It wasn't the first time she'd done it but this was a far cry from that night in her college dorm. With her tits on fire and her cunt feeling like it was being torn in two Melissa tried to focus on bringing the woman to climax, anything that might take her mind off the pain. But then a searing agony exploded from her pussy, and she screamed bloody murder once again.

Lucy's eyes went wide as she heard the scream she had just caused the poor girl as, with one last thrust, she had slammed the tip of the dildo hard into Melissa's cervix. A pang of guilt coursed through her as Melissa's wail echoed around the room, bouncing off the stone walls and taunting Lucy. She wanted so badly to say sorry, to make sure this girl didn't think she was enjoying torturing her but she knew it wasn't possible - Greta would probably flay her skin off if she tried that. And so Lucy put her head down and thrust her hips backwards, pulling the cock out of the girl's still dry cunt, before, reluctantly, plunging forward again.

With Melissa's wailing dying down once more Greta ground her pussy down, stimulating the girl to resume her licking. As her tongue ran its way from her pussy hole to just flicking her clit her body shuddered with pleasure, not just because of the sensation but the power she had over this bitch. And it was that that turned Greta on more than anything else, knowing that she could do whatever she wanted to this cunt and there was nothing she could do or say to stop it.

"Fuck her faster," the German snapped, disappointed in the slow pace Lucy had adopted. Of course she knew why the teen had done it, trying to spare this blonde bitch as much pain as possible, but in this dungeon less pain wasn't an option.

Lucy obeyed instantly, pulling out once again so only the tip of the cock was in Melissa's pussy before slamming forward; not quite as far as the first time but still enough to make the girl scream. As she did so she felt a buzzing, a little vibration on her clit that sent a small wave pf pleasure through her body. Whatever she had felt when she put on the strap on was obviously a little vibrator, and one that responded whenever she thrust forward hard enough. She looked up to see Greta grinning slightly, obviously pleased Lucy had discovered the strap-on's little secret. As she had predicted the buzz in her crotch, the promise of sexual release, spurred Lucy on and within a few moments the girl was fucking in and out of the tortured babe with a ferocity that surprised even the sadistic German.

"Pick up the paddle," Greta demanded, grinding her pussy even harder into the slave's face.

To her delight Lucy barely broke rhythm as she leant across and picked up the oak paddle, still fucking Melissa forcefully. Then, without even having to be told, Lucy swung the paddle hard into the American's tortured breast. It was all Greta could do not to cum immediately as the poor blonde wailed into her cunt. Having seen how difficult it had been for Lucy to assault her friend down in the basement just a couple of days ago, to see the babe now obey her orders with what seemed just shy of relish was ivigorating. In just three days she had almost broken her, and the thought of what she could mould her into over the coming weeks, months and years.

For Lucy however no such thoughts were present, indeed she was trying not to think as much as possible. Instead of thinking about the pain she was causing this innocent woman with each thrust of her hips or swing of the paddle, she focused instead on the pleasure that was building in her sex. With each plunge of the dildo into the suffering girl's cunt the vibrator pressed against her clit buzzed and sent another wave of pleasure through her body. Blanking out the horrific nature of what she was being forced to do she thought only of the pleasure she was getting. And after what she'd been through since her capture she could easily convince herself that she deserved this small respite.

While the two torturers were slowly building towards a climax Melissa was in a world of pain she couldn't have believed would have existed before she experienced this. It was sheer agony; from the pounding of the monstrous dildo into her pussy, stretching it beyond measure, the unbearable pain in her obscenely tied breasts with each thwack of the paddle all added to the fact that with her tormentor's crotch pressed down into her face she could hardly breathe. What she wouldn't give to be back in the hands of that grotesque old man who'd first captured her, anything to escape this hell on earth.

Such worries were far from Lucy's mind, as the pleasure built inside her the suffering she was causing almost completely disappeared from her mind. She was now pounding in and out of Melissa like a woman possessed, driving forward with as much force as she could muster. Her legs and hips were beginning to tire but it didn't matter, her only goal now was to achieve what she was sure would be an almost overwhelming orgasm. The paddle in her hand slammed again and again into the bound breast of her victim as the room was filled with a whole cacophony of horror and anguish. As the pleasure built up to an almost intolerable level Lucy suddenly felt a hand on the back of her neck.

Greta too was getting close to orgasm, but she was able to restrain herself until the perfect time - ensuring that she and her new apprentice would reach their climax simultaneously. It gave her immense satisfaction to see how much the young English girl seemed to be enjoying what she was doing, totally caught up in the frenzy of pleasure she was in. As her eyes began to roll back in her head Greta smiled and reached out a hand, gripping her accomplice behind the head and pulling her forwards. Then, leaning forwards slightly, she thrust her tongue into the girl's open mouth.

The wave of pleasure that broke over Lucy was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was like her whole body was made of butterflies as every inch of her tingled, before suddenly exploding with the most intense pleasure anyone had ever felt. Her hips thrust forward one last time, burying the whole of the strap on into her victim's pussy as her own sex filled her body with an almost other worldly euphoria. She opened her mouth, all set to unleash a moan of intense pleasure, when she was pulled forward and a tongue thrust into her mouth.

An invasion of her mouth, an unwanted forced kiss, should have made Lucy resist. Just a few days ago, if somebody had come up to her in a bar and tried the same stunt she would have kicked off, possibly going so far as to use the pepper spray she always kept in her handbag. But now that this woman who had kidnapped her and her friends, tortured them and humiliated her more than she ever imagined possible, she offered no resistance. Instead, as her orgasm continued to pulse through her body the kiss brought her to new heights of pleasure, the intermingling of their saliva taking her to another plane of joy. She kissed back with relish, bringing up a hand and grabbing the back of Greta's head, enjoying it to a level that surprised the German.

And that surprise was enough to send Greta over the edge, grinding her pussy into Melissa's face one last time and then shuddering as she came, her juices cascading over the American's face. Locked in an embrace with her compliant slave Greta closed her eyes and just enjoyed the moment, the sweet release of her climax and the satisfaction of having broken the English girl so easily combining to make this one of the most enjoyable moments she'd had in this basement of hers. And there had been many.

After a few moments entwined in the passionate embrace the last waves of her orgasm began to fade Greta pulled back, her hand still holding Lucy's head in front of her. She looked into the teenager's eyes and saw the glint that she knew so well. The first time she had seen it she had been just 14 and she had just watched her father beating some whore to within an inch of her life. Hiding behind a crate she had been unable to take her eyes off the spectacle, her father - belt in hand - striking some poor, screaming Armenian teenager again and again. Greta had been unable to contain herself, frantically strumming herself as she watched the glorious scene unfold. And after the most powerful orgasm she could remember, when she next caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, it was that same look in her eyes she recognised in the English girl right now. Now that she had realised her true nature Greta knew the girl would be hers forever.

For Lucy the feelings were very different, but no less powerful. As she looked into the emerald green eyes that she had up until now associated only with pain and shame she felt a decidedly different emotion being reflected back at her. Still cold and not showing anything that could be construed as joy or happiness, but unless Lucy was very much mistaken there was something very close to pride there. Whether it was pride in Lucy's efforts or her own ability to break Lucy the teenager didn't know but in the post orgasm haze she was in at the moment she didn't care.

Having cum harder than she had ever cum before Lucy was almost oblivious to the suffering she had just caused - the feelings of the poor girl beneath her could scarcely be further from her mind. In fact as she looked at Greta, the cause of more misery than she had ever deemed possible t both her and her friends, she almost felt gratitude. She could only stare forward, confused at her own emotions, as Greta shuffled off the slippery face of their victim.

"Well done cunt," she snapped, leaning over the American so her face was inches from hers once again, "you did a good job making your mistress cum. And you got fucked as well. You enjoyed that didn't you?"

"Y...yes...mistress," Melissa panted, struggling to get her breath back having been almost smothered by Greta. Her body was still wracked with pain, her much abused breasts practically ablaze with agony as they rose and fell on her chest. But despite this she answered quickly, desperate to be given some respite from the constant torture.

"Fucking whore," Greta spat, "what do you say to my assistant?"

"Mistress... I don't know..."

"You're not going to thank her for fucking you, you ungrateful cunt?"

"Th...thank you..."

"For?"

"Thank you for...fucking me..."

Hearing that made Lucy feel the greatest pang of shame she had felt in her time with this woman. She had just brutally raped her, savagely beaten her breasts which she had tied so painfully with copper wire and now she was being forced to thank her tormentor. It was a humiliation Lucy understood only too well and she couldn't help but feel sympathy. And yet she knew that wasn't going to make her job any easier and so, like so many emotions in the last few days, she pushed it to the back of her mind.

"Well seen as you like both your holes stuffed I know just what to do with you next. But first, let's do your tits. Grab some wire cutters."

Greta's voice was stern again and it took Lucy slightly by surprise after the strange moment they had just shared. The giant dildo was still buried in the American's sex and now the post orgasm trance had worn off Lucy started to feel bad for the pain she had put this girl through. That lasted only a moment though as she pushed the thought out of her mind. What choice had she had?

The raven haired beauty clambered down off the table, not easy with a foot long plastic cock bobbing down in front of her, and made her way over to the side of the room. Last time she had been here she had been tortured exclusively in the middle and hadn't been able to see what was in the murky gloom but being able to walk around the sheer scale of the depravity was clear.

The sheer array of torture instruments was staggering - it was if Lucy had wandered into some medieval museum. But she didn't have time to dwell on anything like that, she had to concentrate on finding what she had been told to. Despite her new position resembling some kind of promotion she was still wary of her German mistress and wanted to stay in her good books. Glancing around she noticed a metal toolbox and made for it, quickly finding a pair of gleaming cutters, and making her way back over to her mistress and the sobbing girl.

When she arrived she saw Greta was already wielding her own pair of wire cutters, and immediately the teen knew what was about to happen. Inside she prepared herself for the inevitable screaming that was about to fill the room. Before Greta had to say anything Lucy was up on the table again and straddling Melissa's stomach, wielding the cutters ready for action. Greta, impressed, took up her position.

"It's time to take those wires of those udders," she spat before leaning in close to Melissa once more, "and it's going to hurt."

Quick as a flash Greta reached out and sliced through the wire closest to Melissa's nipple. It flew through the air and there was a momentary silence before Melissa squealed yet again as the blood began to return to her still purple breast flesh. Lucy took her cutters and repeated the motion on Melissa's other breast, once again making the tortured American cry out in pain.

Slowly, methodically, the two women snipped away at the wires that encircled and constricted Melissa's large perky breasts, each time eliciting a wail from the tortured American. Lucy tried once more to ignore the plaintive screams, focusing on not cutting into the sensitive skin as she did so. After a minute two only two coiled wires remained - those that constricted the base of Melissa's ample bosom.

As the blood had slowly seeped into her breasts more and more feeling had returned and her moans of pain had become greater and greater but they were still bulging and purple. Lucy knew that when they cut the final wires the girl would scream bloody murder, but it was what she must do. She watched Greta for her cue, the German's cutters now hovering just millimetres from Melissa's distended nipple.

"We are going to do the last one now," Greta said menacingly, "are you ready to scream?"

Melissa was still moaning, eyes closed and head moving from side to side as if she could shake all the pain away. Greta didn't take kindly to being ignored and brought down a vicious slap across Melissa's face.

"Don't fucking ignore me bitch," she shouted, raw anger written on her face, "or I'll cut your nipple right off. Answer me cunt!"

"Yessss," Melissa said through gritted teeth, "yes mistress..."

"Yes what!?"

"Yes...yes I'm ready to...scream..."

"Good."

Greta didn't give Lucy any signal but the English teen knew what to do immediately. In unison the two dominatrix's sliced through the copper wire that bound each breast. Suddenly the breasts that had been forced into the most unnatural position were free and Lucy watched as the two fleshy globes bounced and quivered before finally coming to rest on her chest. It took a moment of silence but then...

"AAAAAAIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Melissa thrashed and bucked as her scream rang out around the basement, bouncing off the walls and ringing in Lucy's ears. The sound of her pain was familiar to Lucy as it hadn't been that long ago that she had been making the same noises in this very basement. And deep down she was sure her two friends would be doing the same somewhere in this hell. And yet where Lucy thought she should feel bad for this girl for some reason she couldn't explain she didn't. And so as she watched the blonde screaming at the top of her lungs she was more disturbed at her lack of feeling than any sense of pity.

"Are you quite finished?" Greta said after about a minute of Melissa's heartfelt ministrations, "don't you want your holes stuffed? Untie the bitch."

Greta said nothing else as she clambered off the table and made her way over to the side of the room to fetch the next dastardly torture device, leaving Lucy all alone with Melissa. As Greta disappeared, it occurred to Lucy that unbound and unwatched it would be possible for to try an escape. Perhaps she could use her wire cutters, go up behind Greta and knock her out, even kill her. Then she could find a better weapon, untie this poor girl, and make her way through this labyrinthine dungeon and out to freedom. It was a long shot, high risk and with no doubt dire consequences, but it was possible. And yet, for some reason, she didn't consider it for long. The threat of going back to those first two days, the horrible torture she had endured, if her escape failed was just too great. She couldn't risk it. Scolding herself for being a coward she set about untying the blonde girl.

Melissa didn't put up any resistance even as Lucy quite roughly undid the bonds that held her. Instead she just sobbed, the pain from her breasts and pussy now a dull ache rather than a searing agony. Lucy ignored and worked with surprising pace, until in just less than a couple of minutes the girl was no longer bound. Behind her she heard a familiar scraping of something heavy moving across the dungeon floor and she turned her head, taking her eyes off her victim.

The next device that Greta was wheeling out of the shadows was one Lucy already knew too well and as she saw it coming closer towards her, her whole body shuddered with fear and anticipation. All she could think as her eyes were fixed on that gigantic wooden chair, straps and wires dangling all over the place, was the pain and humiliation, as well as the frustration she had felt when she was first strapped to it what seemed like an age ago. The worst experience she had had in her 18 short years on this earth was now rumbling towards her. She hoped, prayed, with every fibre of her being that she would be spared the torment of that thing.

So transfixed was she, she couldn't the glimmer in Greta's eyes at the fear of the teenager, the pleasure at how much she'd broken the young girl. Lucy would have given literally anything not to have been strapped into that chair once again, and that was exactly how the German wanted it.

"Bring the bitch over," the blonde haired sadist snapped as soon as she'd trundled the chair into the centre of the room, "quickly!"

Lucy paused, unsure of how to proceed but as always she knew she couldn't hang about. Looking down at the sobbing girl she felt those familiar pangs of sympathy, guilt and shame but there was no time for that. Pushing under her shoulders Lucy hooked her arms underneath Melissa's and tried to lift her. She tried to lift, but lying as she was the blonde was dead weight, and after all she'd been through up to this point it was hardly surprising she was in an uncooperative mood. Lucy switched to dragging and pulled the girl slowly over toward the edge of the table.

"Quickly!" Greta barked, genuine anger in her voice as she stood waiting by the chair.

"Stand up," Lucy said matter of factly, but the girl was lost in her own world of pain and sorry to respond.

"Stand up," she repeated but still the American showed no sign of moving. Lucy looked over to Greta and was shocked, those green eyes seeming to punch her in the gut they were so full of rage. Desperate to stay on the German's good side Lucy didn't think, but brought her hand crashing against the side of Melissa's face, jolting her out of her sort of trance.

"Stand up!"

Desperate to avoid another vicious slap Melissa sprang into action, complying as Lucy manoeuvred her off the wooden table and onto the hard stone floor. Her legs were like jelly as she stood, supported by the beautiful black haired girl who appeared by her accent to be English. Melissa wondered how a girl who looked little older than her could be as cruel as she had. And it was only now that she had a look at the device she was about to be placed on.

Her eyes flicked across the monstrous contraption, the buckles, the wires, the two dildos at the base frightening the living daylights out of her. She had been subject to great cruelty at the hands of that beastly fat oaf but he had never had anything like that to use on her. She stopped in her tracks, as if that was going to help.

"Move," Lucy snapped, impatient at the blonde's hesitation. She had already wasted enough of Lucy's time, pissing off Greta and no doubt earning her a severe reprimand, and the teen was in no mood to waste any more. Not waiting for the girl to move on her own accord she grabbed the girl by the back of the neck and frogmarched her into the centre of the room. Melissa stumbled and staggered but Lucy continued regardless, bringing the much abused slave to Greta.

"In the chair," the German now addressing Melissa, sending a chill through the American such was the venom in her voice. She daren't refuse and, still trembling, lowered herself down. The two dildos, one massive and curving upwards, the other much smaller but still substantial. It was clear where they were about to go but Melissa still paused. Greta didn't say anything more but nodded to Lucy, what she wanted implicit.

"Sit down" Lucy said, "that one in your cunt, the other in your arse."

Melissa turned to look at the raven haired girl for some comfort, some let up, but found the same steely gaze back at her. There was barely a flicker of sympathy or humanity there, and if there was anything the girl was trying to cover it up. Melissa knew it was futile to resist and so she lowered herself down onto the dildo. Dry as she was there was plenty of resistance to the huge rubber cock but she would have no time to get herself ready. Instead she lined the entrance of her pussy up with the black tip of the rubber dildo.

The two other women looked on emotionless as Melissa slowly, painfully lowered herself further and further down, her eyes welling up as the friction burned the sensitive walls of her sex. She soon felt she was as far down as she could go but as she was not sitting on the chair she knew she would have to go further. Another inch and she felt the second phallus pressing against the crinkled bud of her anus.

Watching as the American impaled herself on those two dildos Lucy could almost feel them inside of her, so recent was the memory of her own imprisonment on the dreaded chair. She had hated the way she had had to slap that girl, and the way she had spoken to her, but she had no choice. Watching Melissa's torment Lucy knew she couldn't go back to that place and she would have to do whatever it took to avoid that. Even the tears streaming down the girl's face didn't move the hardening heart of the English girl.

"Tie her," Greta snapped as soon as Melissa was fully impaled on the two dildos. Lucy wasted no time, securing the manacles around the blonde's wrists and ankles and securing the belt around her arms and across her waist, all the while the blonde American sobbing and mewling. All tied up there was just one thing left to do and Lucy took the two wires with the little clamps on and brought them up to Melissa's tits. No use standing on ceremony, she opened those evil little metal teeth and closed them on Melissa's swollen nipples. The squeal ripped around the room but, job done, Lucy ignored it. She took a step back and Greta moved round to take her place.

"Look at me bitch," the German snapped, slapping the American across her rosy red cheeks, "look at me! Have you learned your place slave?"

"Yes mistress," Melissa sobbed, "yes mistress please, I'll be good I swear, no more..."

"If you'd really learnt your place you wouldn't dare to make a demand of your mistress. You need more training."

"No mistress please, I'm good, I'm a good slave please...."

"Quiet cunt," another slap ringing around the room, "you'll stay here until I think you've learnt your lesson. And you can scream all you want, nobody's going to hear you."

With that Greta reached around and turned on the machine. There was a faint whirring and Lucy watched as the stimulation she had felt herself began. She knew that feeling all too well and the last thing she wanted to do was watch. Thankfully for her Greta had other plans. She clicked her fingers as she made her way toward the stairs, signalling for Lucy to follow her. The two women made their way across the room, heels rapping on the floor, and up the stairs Greta had ascended so many times. As they reached the top of the stairs and Greta made her way through a door, the first of no doubt countless screams split the air.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Jeremiah bellowed as he came, his cum flooding the inside of the tight, swollen cunt which gripped his cock like a velvet glove. Waves of pleasure flooded over him as he spurted his seed deep into the girl. Gripping her hips hard he had forced his entire prick into her pussy so that his cum was now shot deep within her, her groans and squeals of pain as nothing to his roar of pleasure. He had scarcely believed how tight her cunt had been, the ferocious beating he had given it obviously making her lips swell and grip his cock like a vice. Even as his cock doused her teen pussy with jet after jet of hot cum he thrust forward a couple more times; those monster tits now bound and bucking with the impact. As the adrenalin of his climax subsided and his cock began to soften he opened his eyes and looked at the girl who had taken him to heights he barely thought possible.

It had been four hours since Holly had been led into the dungeon with Jeremiah but to her it felt like a lifetime. There wasn't a single part of her body that wasn't now screaming in pain such had been the cruelty he had shown her. So excruciating was the pain that she could barely form coherent thoughts for her mind was ablaze; every inch of her battered body wailing in tortured agony.

The latest indignity and pain of being raped whilst suspended with great weights hanging from clamps on her nipples, her breasts tightly constricted at the base, would to any other girl be deemed extraordinary torture. For Holly it had now become the norm. All she could do was hang limply in the strappado she had been tied in and hope that after so long her tormentor had finally grown tired of the orgy of violence.

As his cock slid out of Holly's slick pussy Jeremiah panted like a dog. He was utterly exhausted. His exertions, as much fun as they had been, had left him unable to continue. Much like Holly he could barely move a muscle although for very different reasons. Whilst her time here had been hell on earth for Jeremiah it had been four hours of pure heaven. All good things must come to an end though and so he prepared to say his goodbyes to this unfortunate teen, for now at least.

With his last ounces of energy he made his way round in front of the girl. He looked down at the objects on which he had focused so much of his sadistic lust. The creamy pale breasts Holly had had when she had been brought here, skin almost flawless save a pattern of bruises, were now a macabre shadow of their former selves. Bound tightly at the base with thin black cord they had bulged obscenely, turning almost purple, with thin rivulets of blood being squeezed from each place he had skewered them. Watching those mountainous globes jiggle and bounce when free had been magnificent, watching them buck wildly as he fucked her brutally had been no less arousing. He didn't say a word as he then undid her bonds, allowing the clamps to pull her pendulous breasts even further. A fat stubby hand grabbed her hair, the pigtails long since undone, pulled Holly's head up and forced her to look into his eye.

"Look at me cunt!" Jeremiah snapped, accompanying this with a quick slap across her face and forcing Holly to raise her eyes to meet his gaze, "You are one amazing whore Holly. The way your cunt gripped my dick, this is what you were born to be."

As he said this Holly began to wail anew, the blood flowing back into her breasts making her feel once again every blow they had taken at his hand. Jeremiah felt nothing but amusement at this latest reaction and laughed as his free hand shot out and grabbed at the aching flesh. The skin was slippery to the touch, slick with blood, sweat and tears.

"And these titties," he chuckled, squeezing and pulling at her chest like he was kneading dough, "you should have seen the way they bucked up down as I reamed out your pretty pussy! Do they hurt honey? Did old Jeremiah make you regret growing such monster knockers?"

"Yes Sir," she sobbed immediately.

"Good. I told you I'd make you sorry for them. Make you sorry for being such a worthIess big titted whore. Now I'm gonna send you up to her while I rest. But don't worry, I'll be back for you. And your tits."

A brutal squeeze of the sensitive cone within his palm was his last act of cruelty on the girl; for now. The supple flesh was warm to the touch, hours of vicious abuse turning her once pale breasts a vivid red. As his fingers dug into the pliant flesh he knew he would have to play with her at least once before he returned home. He may have tortured dozens of girls over his lifetime but this little English bitch, with those tits, was undoubtedly the highlight. He wished it would never end but he knew it had to. He had grown too tired to even enjoy tormenting her anymore. Well, almost.

Greta would want her slave back intact though and if he knew the German Holly's tribulations were by no means over. That thought, that Holly would still be abused when he left her, meant that as he finally turned to make his way out of the dungeon the parting from his new favourite toy was not as painful as it might have been. As he left the room he was already looking forward to the next time he would get his hands on her, especially after Greta had had her fun.

As the man finally left the room Holly broke down in tears, pain humiliation and a small amount of relief. He was gone. Although Holly knew this was far from freedom not being abused by him for the foreseeable future was about as good a blessing as she could hope for in this nightmare. Her sobbing made her whole body shake and put even more strain on her shoulders but she couldn't help it; the floodgates had been opened and she didn't have the energy or strength to close them. With each movement she made her huge tits wobbled, the heavy weights that hung from her nipples swinging wildly and painfully. The clamps they were attached to bit hard into the pale flesh of her nipples, the weights pulling her breasts into long conical points. She was in a world of pain but that was her world now and so she tried to weep it all away.

Jeremiah's farewell had been a great relief to Xiang as well for it meant she didn't have to witness the terrible suffering of the poor girl at his hand and, perhaps more pertinently, she no longer had to aid in it. All she would have to do now was send Holly back off upstairs and she would be able to relax. It had been a testing day for though she was used to seeing torture and abuse even she had been taken aback by the American's cruelty.

She threw a thin wooden cane down to the floor, a cane she had just been mercilessly whipping Holly's bulging tits with, and made her way over to the sobbing girl. The sooner she could get the now sobbing teen out of her sight the quicker she could put her suffering behind her. Out of sight, out of mind.

Holly felt a hand on her and immediately flinched, certain that it was more pain about to be heaped upon her. That it was the woman held little meaning for her; any touch she now associated with pain. It was surprising then when the woman, rather than look to inflict more misery, moved to undo first one then both clamps. With the strain removed Holly's breasts hurt marginally less but as feeling once more returned to her distended nipples she squealed again.

Eager to get it over with the woman merely dropped the clamps on the floor and reached up to undo the bonds that held Holly in the painful strappado. Reaching a long arm underneath Holly meant that when she unhooked her the teen fell down into her arms and not straight onto the hard stone floor. Holly was still sobbing but Xiang offered no words of comfort.

"Stand up," she said sternly, holding Holly until she finally got the strength in her legs to support herself. Hands still tied behind her back and head hanging down the woman prodded Holly toward the door through which she had first entered this hell over four hours ago. Tears still streamed down her face as she reached the door. The heavy wood swung open and standing there with a wide grin painted across their face was Hasan.

The tall muscular Turk had been eagerly awaiting the time when he could pick Holly up, not only so he could feel those tits again but also to see the damage Jeremiah had done to her. He wasn't disappointed. Holly's pale skin had now turned an angry shade of red, every inch of her body obviously having tasted a cane, belt or whip. Welts and bruises were developing where the blows had been particularly savage or repetitive. He could only imagine how much the young Brit had screamed as Jeremiah had laid blow after blow on her tight body. The girl's cheeks were streaked red with crying and tears were running down her pretty little face. It was unsurprisingly her massive breasts that held Hasan's attention though. When he had last had them in his hands they had been bruised slightly but that was as nothing compared to them now. Each gigantic tit had a patchwork of deep bruises, at different stages of maturity but evidence of the painful treatment she had received. Across the surface were tiny red pinpricks, at least twenty on each huge globe. Hasan didn't know the exact cause but he guessed it would have been painful; he would certainly be watching the video later to see how she squealed.

He reached out his giant hands and gently cupped her boobs. The heavy flesh was hot to the touch but, as he slowly squeezed, the torture had done nothing to assuage how firm and luscious they were. With the smile never leaving his face he dug his fingers into the soft mounds, pleased at the cry of pain he elicited from the helpless girl. He could have squeezed them all day but a quick look from Xiang told him it was time to take her upstairs. So Hasan nodded and grabbed Holly's hair so she was looking at him.

"Come," he snapped, still smiling as she looked up at him with her tear stained eyes. Using the hand in her hair to guide her he marched forward, forcing Holly to almost run in order to keep up with him. She was still sobbing but he didn't mind; the sound only meaning she was in pain. He looked across at her, the speed at which she had to walk making her breasts bounce delightfully up and down.

Maintaining his pace Hasan raised his free hand and slapped her tits, the feel of his hand smacking into her abused flesh pure heaven. It didn't take long until they reached the room he was taking her to, although for Holly it felt much longer as her breasts were subjected to yet more abuse. The room she had just been brought into was not unlike every other she had been in since her abduction, the walls and floor were stone while a single light bulb lit the room up. The only features were a steel bar that rose out of the floor about three foot, bent so it was parallel to the ground then descended back into the floor, and a large chest. Hasan closed the door behind him then turned Holly to face him, tears still streaming down her face.

"Stop crying bitch," Hasan spat, the sound of her pathetic whining having grown annoying. Holly had wept almost all her tears and so she was able to quickly sniffle for just a few seconds and stop crying. Instead she merely looked up at Hasan, the fact that he was so much better looking than Jeremiah holding no sway over Holly's feelings for she had seen how cruel he could be himself. His face, contorted into a disturbing smile, filled Holly with dread all over again.

"The old man had fun with you, yes?" Hasan chuckled, "He played with your big tits?"

Hasan once again gripped at her monster breasts, ignoring Holly's pitiful moaning. He could never tire of playing with them. It was a miracle that the girl had been able to grow tits this big but this perfect; to be the size they were without any sag or imperfections was truly a gift from God. Squeezing the soft flesh was heaven, the fact it pained the teen as he did so only adding to the appeal.

"Everybody want to play with your tits. But they wait. Now you get dressed."

Holly hadn't known what Hasan had meant initially but in just ten minutes she was no longer ignorant. As Hasan had laid out various black pieces of leather out on the floor Holly could only look on perplexed as to what exactly was to be done to her now. Hasan worked without betraying emotion, resisting the urge to grope the girl's delicious body. The pieces of leather he was handling barely looked like clothes but as he wrapped them around Holly the picture slowly began to take shape. Holly remained inanimate throughout, allowing herself to be manhandled and dressed like shop dummy less she receive any further punishment. And after ten minutes of working busily Hasan stood up and admired his handiwork.

Standing in front of him was a black figure, just a few exposed areas of creamy white skin signifying that it was indeed a person that stood in front of him. Holly had looked like this before of course but this time the finish was much more professional. Her slender legs were tightly encircled in jet black leather, two oblong pieces that had been tied tightly along the back. From her ankles up to the top of her thighs Holly felt the pressure applied by the tight garment. Stopping just below the curve of her behind her badly bruised arse cheeks were still on display, as were her two newly violated holes. Holly's torso was similarly encased, a tightly drawn corset around her midriff, showing off her fabulous teenage figure, and thick leather straps stretching up covering most of her upper body. The garment did not conceal her glorious chest, the straps instead making her battered, bruised but still magnificent breasts bulge even more. The pale nipples that topped her gigantic tits now shimmered as Hasan had re-adorned her breasts with rings. Her arms were encased up to the shoulder in a single black leather sleeve which had been pulled behind her back, the tight leather forcing her elbows together pushing her tits out even further.

Holly's look was completed by her headgear. Totally covering her head was a thick leather hood, one that had been tied tightly at the back. Holly's face was visible, her innocent features still beautiful even after all she had been through. On the side of the hood were two protrusions, blinkers that prevented Holly from seeing anything but straight ahead . Once more her hair had been pulled into a taut ponytail which projected proudly out the back. A large dildo gag had been forced into her mouth and a small ring had been put into her pierced septum. Hasan was pleased with his work; he had transformed an innocent schoolgirl into a leather clad slave. There was just one more thing he needed to do until he had her prepared exactly as instructed.

"Sit," Hasan commanded, loudly so Holly would hear from within her hood. Holly had learnt her lessons and obeyed immediately. It was difficult with the tight stiff clothing but she managed it, getting first down to her knees and then rocking back onto her bottom. As her battered arse cheeks made contact with the floor she let out a small cry then watched as Hasan pulled out what he needed.

Holly had never seen anything like them before and had no earthly idea how she would cope with them on. He held what were clearly shoes, shoes that would leave her tottering and unsteady on her feet. For where there should have been a heel there was nothing. Holly would be forced to stand on her tip toes and for a girl who rarely wore heels anyway this would be tremendously difficult. It didn't take long for Hasan to get them on, lacing them up to just below her knee. Once he was done he stood up and looked down at the disconsolate Holly.

"Stand," he barked, barely able to contain his excitement.

Holly looked up at Hasan's smirking face, knowing already she would have no choice but to obey. She didn't know how she could get up but she did know she had to try. With her hands behind her back it seemed completely impossible. She got her legs into a position where she might be able to balance on the tips of the ludicrous shoes. Then hoping that it might work she tried to get to her feet.

Hasan laughed raucously as the big titted babe toppled straight forward onto the floor. With no hands to break her fall she fell straight forward onto her chest, breasts once more exploding with pain. Watching her sprawling helplessly on the floor wasn't just arousing but for Hasan it was hilarious. He knew she wasn't going to get up on those shoes, not without a lot of training, but it was going to be fun watching her try. After a moment on the floor Holly tried again, desperate not to be punished for failing to obey instructions. Hasan continued to laugh at her pitiful attempts, offering absolutely no sympathy to the much abused teen.

"I said get up slut," he laughed.

Finally after a minute or two of fruitless attempts Hasan finally stepped in. He grabbed the girl under her arms and lifted her up so she was standing up, the shoes making her almost as tall as the 6'2 Hasan. He stepped back, watched as she teetered and then burst out laughing when she inevitably fell flat back down onto her arse.

"Fucking cunt," he chuckled when his laughter finally subsided, "you need lot of training to be real pony whore. Now you rest, training starts very soon."

Once again Hasan picked her up but this time he didn't leave her on her own, almost having to carry her over to the bar in the middle of the room. It wasn't difficult to bend her over the bar and this time, her midriff supported, she was finally able to stay on her feet. Hasan didn't waste any time, collecting a couple of chains from the now almost empty chest. The first he clipped on to her nose ring then stretched it out to the far wall, just pulling slightly on her septum, and clipped it on to a ring mounted on the wall. The second forked in to two ends and he clipped each of these on to the rings of her pendulous hanging tits. He then ran the chain between Holly's legs, making sure it ran over her clit, and hooked it onto another ring on the opposite wall. The chain stretched her breasts taut, pulling them into giant cones. Only one more thing remained.

Holly could only remain fastened in position as Hasan first put on a thin pair of latex gloves and went back over to the chest to pick up the last remaining items. In one hand now was a thick black butt plug, unremarkable in itself compared with the variety of contraptions available in this hell. However, out of the base of the plug was a protrusion of long, fine black hair, soft and silky to the touch. There were also two straps, one on each side, with small brass buckles on the ends. The other hand contained a small plastic bottle, within which was a red gel.

With a maniacal grin spreading across his face he squeezed a large drop onto the tip of the butt plug then smeared it all over the toy. Once completely coated in the slippery gel the toy was then taken over to the trussed up babe.

The Turk said nothing as he placed the tip of the plug against the tight sphincter of Holly's exposed arsehole. He knew first hand how tight that opening was, having forced his giant cock in there just a few hours before, but the gel was an excellent lubricant. He pushed down extremely hard and forced the entire toy deep into Holly's bowels. Unable to speak her only reaction to this painful intrusion was a loud moan. It only took a second to buckle the plug to her leather clothing, securing it in place.

Hasan looked at his handiwork and smiled. Holly had once again been reduced to a mere object rather than a human being. Her black leather suit shimmered in the dull light, obscuring her pretty face but accentuating her womanly curves. Her bruised breasts were no longer free to jiggle and dance but still he was amazed at their size. Her massively high shoes gave her legs a beautifully slender shape. And jutting out the back, completing the ensemble, was Holly's very own tail. The hairs from the butt plug sprouted out of arse and made Holly's ponygirl look complete. Hasan smiled broadly and, as if he had just finished touching up a car, he slapped her hard on her sore arse cheek and started to leave.

"Sleep good," he said as he opened the door, "lots of training to do with you tomorrow. Are you excited?"

Holly didn't respond to his question but she did suddenly come to life. Letting out an almighty wail she stamped her feet and wiggled her arse as much as she could frantically. Although she didn't know the reason for this new discomfort Hasan knew only too well. The gel he had smeared all over the butt plug jammed into her arse had been laced with chilli and it was this taking effect that had caused Holly's frantic protestations. Unsurprisingly Hasan had no sympathy whatsoever for her and greeted her pain with nothing but amusement. He laughed heartily and with that switched off the light and closed the door, plunging a humiliated and pain racked Holly alone in the darkness.

As his beat up old car struggled up the twisting mountain path a dozen questions raced through the old detective's head. After years spent plugging away with dead end cases - homeless murders, missing prostitutes, drug overdoses - out of nowhere he'd been handed this bumper case, the biggest case of his career. And he'd made real headway. Now his boss, Rudolff Papen, veteran of thirty years on the force and notoriously hard to please, had asked him to help with following up a lead. For a man who'd put a gun in his own mouth more times than he could count it was an extraordinary, almost unbelievable turn of events.

The old banger he'd had for fifteen years now coughed and wheezed as it wound its way up the mountains that loomed permanently above Munich. Hanneman hadn't been up in the mountains for many years, and he had never been where he was heading now. As he turned another corner the vast castle came into view, presiding over the valley with a menace that even now sent a shiver through the detective's spine. It was curious, as if as soon as he saw the castle a chill descended on him. Like the universe was trying to tell him something. But he didn't have time for that nonsense now, in what was potentially the biggest day of his career. In just a few minutes his spluttering car was pulling up to a set of gigantic iron gates.

"State your name," came a strangely practiced voice who clearly wasn't German.

"Errr," the dishevelled detective began, "Detective Hanneman."

"To see?"

"Erm, Superintendent Papen..."

There was a click and the heavy gates swung open, the road now transformed into a white gravel pathway. Hanneman drove and the car lurched forward, belching out a black cloud as it did so. The car was in stark contrast to the usual vehicles that frequented Schweinberg castle, not that Hanneman knew it. As he came up to the vast wooden doors he spotted the portly figure of his commanding officer and another, much more slender and more striking.

"Hanneman," Papen exclaimed, seeming curiously happy and, dare he say it, unprofessional, "park up and get in here. We have much to discuss."

Hanneman obeyed the commands of his boss, still slightly perplexed. He thought they were questioning this woman about potential involvement in the disappearance of three teenage girls. And yet with Papen on the front porch it was as if they were together visiting an old friend. He found somewhere to park and clambered out of his car, adjusting his tie as he went. The closer he got to the woman stood at Papen's side the more she gave him the chills, those piercing green eyes seeming to look straight through him and deep into his soul. Dressed in a sharp grey pantsuit the woman stood unmoving, hardly the welcome with open arms he might have expected fro someone hoping to cooperate with the police.

"Hanneman," Papen shouted, again his manner slightly confusing the detective, "glad you could make it. This is Ms Greta Schweinberg."

"Please to meet you Madam," Hanneman said, moving in to kiss her on the cheek.

"And you detective," the woman said, stepping back and rather embarrassing the middle aged man, "I believe you're under the misapprehension someone in my employ may have had something to do with those poor girls going missing?"

"No...ma'am," the detective stuttered, confused as to how he'd ended up being interrogated by what he considered a suspect, "I was merely...you see..."

"Relax Hanneman," Papen chortled, "I explained the situation to Ms Schweinberg and she was extremely eager to help with our investigation. Why don't we go inside and discuss it further?"

Greta nodded and they turned and made their way inside, Detective Hanneman following in just behind the other two. Going through the giant oak doors Hanneman was stunned at the opulence of the room, marble and polished wood everywhere. It was the nicest room he had ever been in, and it only served to exacerbate his unease. There was definitely something fishy about this whole thing, and Hanneman was beginning to think this had all been a mistake. He was about to say as much when Greta spoke up.

"Forgive my earlier tone, detective," Greta said to him, her face much warmer now, "I know you're only doing your job. But I do resent any suggestion that I would have anything to do with the disappearance of those girls."

"Of course," Hanneman replied, "I was merely following up a lead ma'am."

"I understand, and I admire your dedication. I want to offer my full cooperation in your investigation, and finding out what could possibly have happened to those poor girls. I have my office downstairs, I would very much like to discuss your findings down there."

"Well, ma'am, it's not police policy to discuss an active investigation with members of the..."

"Ah Hanneman," Papen interrupted, "Ms Schweinberg is offering her full cooperation and contacts for our investigation. With the Brits breathing down my neck we need all the help we can get. Come on."

Hanneman's unease was reaching fever pitch now - nothing about this was right. And yet he'd just received an order from his boss, there was no way he'd be able to continue on this case if he refused. And so he followed meekly as they traversed the hallway and made their way to a small doorway and into a stone staircase. It was dimly lit and oddly spooky, Hanneman following Greta down the dingy staircase while the towering figure of the police chief brought up the rear. They continued in silence for some time, descending deep into the bowels of the old medieval castle. After what seemed like an age they reached the bottom of the stairs and Greta walked up to a heavy wooden door.

"Don't worry detective," Greta said, unconvincing in her attempt to assuage his doubts and fears, "my office is just through here."

Hanneman turned around to van Papen, who smiled and nodded, signalling the detective to go through into Greta's 'office'. She opened the door, the room inside shrouded in darkness.

"The switch is just on the right."

Hanneman slowly walked forward, every fibre of his being screaming at him not to go through but he had come so far, he couldn't walk away from the biggest moment of his career so far. Nervously he moved past Greta, peering into the gloom of the of the room. It was curious, why in a house this large had she chosen this dingy basement as her office? Why could he see what he was sure was another person in the shadows? He turned to the right and, grasping around in the darkness, until his hand came across the light switched and illuminated the room.

Hanneman had been right, there was another figure in the room. And when he saw who it was he gasped. Dressed in a black kimono and standing on a pair of ludicrously high heels was a stunning, raven haired beauty who the detective immediately recognised. Lucy Watson, one of the three English girls he had been searching for. He was stunned, but it didn't take long for him to be distracted.

Standing behind Lucy was yet another girl he recognised. This one though was in a very different position to the kidnapped English teen. Totally naked the detective took in the sight in front of him with sheer horror. She was tied to some sort of wooden chair, her arms tied behind her and her legs spread obscenely allowing Hanneman a full view of her exposed sex. She had a wide ring gag forced into her mouth, making her look of sheer terror all the more striking. Hanneman recognised her immediately as the girl from the bar, the same one he had spoken to just a day ago.

"Oh my God..."

Hanneman's exclamation came as the reality of his situation slowly dawned on him. His mind was working overtime putting the pieces of the jigsaw together as he stared forward at the terrified young woman bound naked in front of him. As he realised what was happening he also realised it was too late to do anything.

"You bastards, what have you done!?"

Hanneman turned and made for his commanding officer, who was standing smiling at the down and out detective. He barely made it a few yards before a giant hairy arm reached round him and restrained him. Hasan held the struggling detective tightly in his giant arms as Greta and her accomplice looked on amused.

"Quiet Hanneman," Papen said, amused, "Take a look over there."

A podgy finger pointed to where the cute girl with the pixie haircut was looking on, eyes filled with tears. Hanneman's struggles died down, the futility of his position dawning on him. He looked over, taking in the sheer terror on the poor girl's face. Unlike the others in the room he felt no arousal at the girl's predicament, only disgust at what these monsters had done to her.

"Take a good hard look," Papen continued, "because it's your fault she's there. If you'd kept your nose out of everyone's business that bitch would still be pouring over her books, studying for her literature degree. And you'd still be drinking yourself to death every night over your fucking miserable life. Instead, neither of you will leave this place ever again."

Hanneman heard everything Papen was saying but it barely registered as his eyes were fixed on the girl struggling against her bonds. A white hot rage welled up inside him as he looked at the innocent girl, kidnapped bound and consigned to a life of sexual slavery and abuse he could barely comprehend. He didn't care about his own life, he'd almost killed himself so many times it scarcely mattered to him. But this girl, and the three English teenagers, had done nothing to deserve this.

"You'll never get away with this you sons of bitches," he screamed, fighting once more against the grip of the giant Turk, "I'll get out of here, I'll tell everybody what you've done!"

Now Greta walked over toward the dishevelled detective, a look of irritation flashing across her usual stony face. She stood in front of the detective as he babbled and shouted, practically frothing at the mouth with rage. After waiting 10 seconds through his stream of abuse Greta pulled her hand back and delivered a vicious slap to the detective's cheek.

"I'm afraid, Mr Hanneman," Greta said, quietly, chillingly, "that we will get away with this. I've been getting away with this for twenty years, and some fuck up detective isn't going to stop me. You know how many girls have been through this castle? Hundreds. All of them raped, tortured, abused. All of it right under your nose. And look at that one. You recognise her?"

Hanneman looked over to where Greta was gesturing, the leggy black haired girl standing unbound in front of him, only now noticing the bullwhip coiled up in her hand. He had spent hours pouring over her picture, obsessing over her and her friends as he drank. And now she was in front of him. But unlike the bar girl, she was not restrained. He knew she'd been kidnapped, snatched off the streets and no doubt submitted to brutal torture and sexual abuse. And yet there she stood, unmoved by the events unfurling in front of her - or the bound girl to her left.

"Of course you recognise her," Greta continued, "she's one of the English girls that so tragically went missing in our fair city. When I first brought her here I had her raped, tortured her, did things to her you wouldn't believe. And now look at her. She's my wonderful assistant. Do you know what we were doing just an hour ago? Lucy here was fucking some American bitch while the cunt licked me out. That's how quickly I broke her."

Lucy stood there stoically as Greta described her brutal captivity, watching almost dispassionately as she stared straight forward at the struggling detective. She knew to give anything away but certain to get her a severe punishment. But inside her heart sank. Here was a man who had been looking for her, someone who was out there trying to help her and her friends get out of this hell. They hadn't been forgotten about - somebody was trying to save them! And yet that chance of salvation was here, with her, doomed to never see the outside world again. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach as she watched him struggling, knowing from first hand experience how strong the arms that held him were.

"As for her friends, I'm afraid they're not having quite such a good time. It's a shame you won't get a chance to see them. Now, it's time for you to die. Would you like to fuck one of these cunts before you go?"

"Go to hell you sick bitch," the detective shouted, before launching a globule of spit straight at the woman's face.

Greta's expression didn't change as the saliva ran down her face. Instead she stared straight ahead, and then cracked a smile. Turning to Papen she nodded, and the police chief reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a revolver. He placed the weapon in the woman's talon liked hands and she grasped it, before levelling it straight at the detective's head.

"Very well detective," Greta said jovially, "good bye."

The sound of the shot rang out around the room, followed closely by a scream. Lucy watched in horror as Greta pulled the trigger, a red mist exploding from behind the detective's head and blood and brains spraying all over the back wall. There was a single red dot right between his eyes which rolled back into his head. Hasan let go of the detective's now lifeless body letting it slump into a crumpled heap on the stone floor. Her hands rose in front of her face but it was too late, she had seen something she would never be able to forget.

Greta showed no such emotion, even as Lucy's scream died down into a whimper. Instead she stared for a moment at the detective's body before handing the gun back to Papen. She turned and looked at Lucy, who had dropped the whip and was now looking through her hands at the body of the man who had tried to save her.

"Clean that up," Greta said, gesturing to the body on the ground. Hasan said nothing as he lifted the lifeless lump and proceeded to drag it out of the room. The German now walked forward and stood in front of the girl in the chair, shaking with fear and trying desperately to get out of her bonds. Looking her up and down once more Greta snapped her head round and looked at Lucy.

"Pull yourself together whore," Greta snapped, clearly irritated, "we need to get started on this bitch. Somebody needs to teach her a lesson for talking to that loser."

Papen smiled and took off his jacket, while Lucy knew that the time to be shocked at what had just happened was over. She had no choice but to get on with the job in hand and hope against hope that there would be someone else other than that poor man out there looking for her. And so with an even heavier heart than ever, she picked up the whip and walked over toward her murderous mistress.