Gotha's Embrace Day 03: Veronika's Capture

I reached up to touch the collar around my neck. Besides for the evenly studded rings embedded within the leather, there was no noticeable seam or crack. I didn't even register a buckle or clasp, or a lock of any kind, and so it confounded me how it could have been attached to me as well as tightened or expanded at will. Turning on the light, I took off my cardigan and examined the harness fixed to my body. Upon closer examination, I noticed that it was attached to the collar about my neck by two connecting straps. Two gaping holes across my chest allowed my naked breasts to poke through. A connecting strap around my back secured everything in place.

The material was curious as well. I had presumed it was leather, but now, I wasn't quite so sure. The texture felt too slick and too rough at the same time, impossible to describe, and seemed to slither under my touch. The jet-black surface was punctuated at fixed intervals with small nodes, roughly circular in pattern, and seemed to swell and shrink ever so slightly. In fact, the entire sizing of my harness and collar was rather tight, but seemed to expand and contract with my breathing in synchronicity. It was exceedingly odd. Even if I expelled all the air in my lungs, the harness seemed to follow my movements and tighten in turn. One thing was for sure, I wasn't going to be able to remove it anytime soon.

Taking off my boots and gathering any fresh clothing that I could find, I headed for the restroom. A good, long shower was in order. After the events of today, I felt absolutely filthy. Maybe a good rinse would clear my head and I could plan my next moves. Maybe I could still complete my objectives, if Mother Prosperine kept her word.

As I entered one of the empty stalls and undid my hairband, I took care to place my cyanide capsule (which luckily or unluckily hadn't been confiscated) in a dry corner. Taking off all my clothes except for the irremovable harness and collar, I turned on the water. The hot spray was a welcome sensation. Slowly, I tried to think of who could be the person that Mother Prosperine had mentioned. The one besides for me with the ulterior motives.

Ashley? Too stupid. Sophie? Not likely, although she had been acting strangely ever since yesterday. Maybe worth keeping an eye on just in case. Seo-Yeon? Too cowardly, unless if it was all an act. It could be possible, given that her background was just exotic enough as to perhaps fly under our radar. Finally, there was Isabella. She was the hardest to read, and had not possessed much in the way of historical records. Yet she had argued so ardently with Sister Elizabeth regarding the direction of the Church, and had on multiple occasions raised issues with how the Goth'a faith was at odds with her own beliefs. Not something a spy would do, as it attracted too much attention for too little compensation. Perhaps Mother Prosperine was playing me? Or maybe there were multiple suspects. There were possibilities for each of those scenarios, but I didn't have the evidence to back any particular one. I needed more evidence.

Mindlessly, I gathered up the soap on a nearby stand and started lathering myself up. I thought of how I had been tied down in that dirty basement, naked, at the mercy of that vile old bitch. How had she snuck up on me like that? And how much did she actually know? Now that I thought about it, the whole interaction had been strange. Notwithstanding my fragmented recollections, her line of questioning was also suspect. She knew that I worked for the FSB, but didn't know about the particulars of my mission. She knew my real name, but didn't know who I worked with. The strangest of all was that she could tell when I was lying or even withholding information, but clearly didn't know what information that was. Was I somehow hooked up to a lie detector unawares? But I had training in passing those tests. Unless, of course, if it was all an elaborate ruse, and Mother Prosperine was simply testing me despite knowing everything. Then why strip me naked and then just let me go? Did she really suspect another agent in our midst? Most importantly, how is she using me?

I tried to recall the gap in my memory, but it was like trying to peer through a fog. There were indistinct shapes and sounds, but nothing concrete. The truth had to be in there. I remembered being struck with the crop and by Mother Prosperine's hand, and had the bruises to prove it. Yet there were no additional markings on my body. Furthermore, as I was just waking up in her office, I recalled my vagina aching, although it didn't appear to have been damaged. I would know if it had; the pain would have been unbearable. The last thing I could remember was Mother Prosperine approaching me with... something. Something that was difficult to focus on. It was like she was holding shifting shadows. I tried to concentrate and focus. Why couldn't I remember? It was starting to make me angry.

I remembered hearing a slight noise before I was knocked out. I remembered Mother Prosperine playing with me like a cat her food. I remembered the humiliation of being bound like a slave. How could I have been so careless? I had known that the members of this organization were dangerous, that somehow, they were able to control their emotional states and projection to the utmost degree, and I still had underestimated them. And Mother Prosperine. She was a potent adversary. She had known I would be snooping about the catacombs. She had caught me completely unguarded. After all my careful preparation and planning, she had disarmed me as if I was a child. Now with the bindings on me, I was essentially her pet. A rage was rising within me. My harness seemed to tighten in response as I could feel my breath heaving.

Why had I not waited until nighttime? Why hadn't I spent more time scouting? Why did I have to rush my mission? So many questions. And the most enraging one; Who was is that had leaked my information? Was it Andrei, my partner, all of a sudden deciding to backstab me? Was it Boris, my handler, who I had run into issues with in the past? Was it one of the scientists or support staff, that I tended to brush aside as chattering drones in the grander scheme of things? Or was it any one of the higher ups, holding a vendetta? Who? Everywhere I looked there were unanswered questions and infuriating mysteries. It was as if someone had purposely trapped me in a room full of thick curtains, just to watch me stumble around grasping at phantoms.

I felt surrounded. Like a wild animal locked in a cage. I wanted to scream.

In a fit of rage, I took the soap I had been holding and hurled it against the wall, shattering it into countless splintering pieces.

I stared at where it had struck, suddenly feeling hot and flustered. The water from the shower kept on running over my body. My breasts. My legs. My pussy. God, why was I so hot? I felt the tickling rivulets flow around my sensitive areas, following the creases in my skin, the curves on my body, streaming down my long slim legs. I looked up and sighed, trying to relax, and before I knew what was happening, my right hand was caressing the lips of my pussy.

The action caught me by surprise. Masturbation was nothing new to me, but I had never before engaged in it during an active mission. It was distracting at best and self-destructive at worst. The energy spent on such an activity could well be used for more useful endeavors, not to mention it also sapped one's concentration and usually induced a state of lethargy on the undisciplined. I should know; I had used sex as a weapon on many an occasion on those who were overly licentious. Still, there was something different about this time. It was as if something was calling to me, driving me to touch myself, goading me on. It didn't help that my vaginal lips were so sensitive that the simple act of rubbing them was causing my legs to quiver. I could feel how wet I was, something that was actually very difficult for me, but now I was as leaky as a broken faucet.

The bindings around my body seemed to constrict further, somehow amplifying the effect. I thought of how Mother Prosperine had tied me up on that table and how my pussy was at her utmost mercy. She could have done anything to me. Taken anything. I had been so helpless. What if she had? What if her knobby, bony fingers had slipped into me, curled into my snatch, and plundered their way into my most sensitive places? What if I couldn't fight back? What would have happened then? That last thought sent a shiver up my spine, but whether it was out of disgust or desire I did not know.

Feeling something enter me, I looked down to see my index and middle fingers sliding in and out of my slippery entrance. Wait, how had that happened? How did I go from rubbing to penetrating myself? I tried to stop, but my fingers suddenly glided over a particularly bumpy spot, sending electrical shocks racing through my body. I groaned and reinserted my fingers. God, she could have made me feel this good, and I would have been helpless to stop her. I imagined what it must have been like if that had happened, if I had lain there panting as the old hag worked her way deeper and deeper into my core with her dexterous fingers. How I would have probably writhed in delicious agony, demanding her to stop, but wishing she wouldn't.

I tried to remember my training, but my sudden need for physical satisfaction was too strong. A brazen lust had taken over me. It was like trying to fight against quicksand. I more I struggled, the more I sank into it. The more I tried to pull my hand away, the more my pussy would remind me of what I was missing through jolts of ecstasy. My nerves were on fire. I didn't want to stop. Why? I could feel my anger rising again. A boiling, simmering undercurrent that seemed only to fan the hot flames of my body.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to concentrate. Instead, my thoughts seemed to warp and deform into strange demented shapes, rushing at me with twisted malevolence. A voice was speaking, its tone sultry and seductive. Irresistible.

Look at that slut, rubbing herself like that.

It was talking about me.

Look at her collar and harness, gripping her body.

The tightness. It was so stifling, yet so satisfying.

She's been careless. And naughty.

How could I have been caught?

She should be disciplined.

I needed to be punished. For my incompetence.

I bet she'd like it.

Yes. Yes, I would.

Without even thinking, I took my left hand and twisted my left nipple. Hard. The pain seemed to bring everything into sharp focus. Like the fact that the fingers of my other hand were now pummeling themselves in and out of my pussy in voracious greed. It didn't even seem like I was in control any longer. It was all I could do to keep from moaning. The cool tiled shower wall sent shivers down my back as I leaned into it, my knees suddenly so weak that they could barely support my weight.

I need something more.

Unbidden, my left hand came down violently and smacked my clit. Then again. And again. It kept on slapping away with total disregard for my increased sensitivity and my whimpers of pain. Yet the pleasure was enough to make me shriek in delight.

More! I needed more!

What came next was a whirlwind of anguish and pleasure that bordered on madness. I felt my ass being spanked continuously until it felt raw. My hair was pulled violently like someone was trying to wrench them from their roots. I was even struck in the face a few times. The taste of blood flooded my mouth. Each cruel punishment would bring me to new excruciating heights, but that only spurred me on further.

And it still wasn't enough.

More! More stimulation!

As if someone had heard my plea, something grabbed my collar and pulled. Hard. I nearly blacked out from choking. There was the sound of gurgling and suffocating gasps as I struggled to breathe. However, it seemed to do the trick. All my sensations were magnified, bringing me to the utmost brink.

Yes! YES! Almost there!

I could feel my head getting lighter as I struggled to stay conscious.

Just a little... bit... more...

Somewhere, in the haze of my mind, I registered myself, crouched against the wall, knees on the floor, the cascading water pouring all around, fingers mashed against my swollen pussy. I needed to go over that edge.

Just then, something on the corner of my eye caught my attention. A sinewy voice growled from deep within me.

Give this bitch what she deserves!

Reaching out, I grabbed a sharp stake of shattered soap. Without hesitation, I jammed it forcefully up my ass.

The effect was immediate. I screamed like a wild animal that had just been skewered. But it was utter bliss. Something in me cracked. My body spasmed out of control, as if I was suffering an epileptic seizure. My ass burned from the sudden impalement, its muscles twitching wildly, but that only caused my orgasm to continue on relentlessly. Tears streamed down my cheeks, mixing with the water from the shower. At one point, I couldn't even scream anymore, my voice utterly spent. I could only cry into the floor as running streams flowed around my limp, naked body.

The water began to grow cold. I started to tremble, but didn't have the strength to lift myself. So I stayed. And drifted. In and out of consciousness.

I felt hands lift me up. I was being carried away. Dazed, I tried to look around, but only saw vague shapes and blurry shadows. Where were they taking me?

A soft mattress gently enfolded me. Warm blankets were tucked over my aching body. For some reason, I was already dry. I thought I saw Jezebel's face looking down at me, queenly, dignified, with a confident smile upon her glorious lips. Her raven hair curled down around her face, full and lush, framing a heart-shaped face of exquisite beauty.

I wanted to prostrate myself at her feet, such was her magnificence. But all I could do was stare, mesmerized by her splendor.

I heard her voice, even though she did not speak.

Very good, Veronika. Very good. You have done well.

I struggled to make a sound, but it was like I had been anesthetized.

Take heart, for you are the instrument of my conviction.

I could barely move, enraptured that I was.

You will be my herald. In my name shall you instruct the ignorant. Guide the lost. But most of all, you shall tend to the unworthy.

I saw myself in flashing images. I was in high black heels, my body fully harnessed in strained leather bindings that barely covered my lithe nude form. On my neck was leashed a spiked collar, above which my eyes burned with an ardent fervor. As I watched, my mouth curled upwards into a callous sneer as I flung my arm forward. In my hand was a long and terrible whip, its tip spiked with cruel barbs. All around me, I could hear those that begged me for my instruction. Their pleading. Their supplication. Their clamoring for my attention. They lusted after me in terror. Wishing for and dreading the punishment I would visit upon their forsaken forms. I was the culmination of all their sexual pain.

Rest now, Veronika. We will see to your transformation in time.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and drifted off into a peaceful slumber, a contented smile upon my lips.