Experiment 239 Ch. 09

Anthony could only marvel at the spectacle before him. Sophie was so much more ruthless on herself than he could ever be, he mused.

There must have been almost half a dozen locks on her body.

Her painted lips were spread around a 2.5-inch ring gag, the tight, wide strap at the corners of her mouth ensuring that she must keep it all the way open, not even granted the mercy of being able to flip the ring the tiniest bit. At the back of her head, a gleaming lock held the strap tightly closed.

A steel collar with a D-ring in the front encircled her neck, perfectly built to her measurements. That, too, was locked in the back.

A weighted, custom-made alligator clamp dangled from each nipple, swaying wildly with the tiniest of movements and tugging her nipples every which way. The clamps had tiny keyholes beneath the springs - there was no unclamping them without unlocking them first, although tension could be adjusted slightly via the knobs at the side.

A red leather, steel-boned corset encircled her waist, cinched tightly enough to draw her natural waist a few inches in as always. Except it wasn't -just- her usual corset. There were no hooks and eyes down the front - rather, the only way to put it on was to step into it and lace it up while on the body. Once it had been appropriately cinched, the laces were tied off into a miniature locking contraption, opened via key.

Her delicate feet were, of course, locked into 6-inch, strappy red heels. The cruel arch forced all her weight onto the balls of her feet, straining her calf and thigh muscles.

And she had given him the keys to all of that.

She was standing by the door of her mansion, her hands held up behind her head as instructed. He ran his hands all over her face and body - the lines of her chin, forced into an unnatural position by the enormous ring gag; the lustrous red hair tumbling across her back and over the locks. The plump breasts spilling over the top of her underbust corset, nipples in the grip of tight clamps. The smooth lines of the steel-boned leather encircling her waist, holding it in and forcing her to maintain a perfectly upright posture. Her delectable derriere, clenched with the effort of standing upright in the punishing heels.

He kissed the corner of her mouth as she moaned. "Are you sure you want to do this, Sophie? Once we mail those keys off, they're not coming back for a fortnight"

"Ngghh," was the only reply she could formulate. His leg, pressed against her thigh, felt her juices dripping onto it.

He stepped back, studying her. "Go and put on a figure-hugging dress. And a scarf. You may hide your collar and your gag with it."

"Ngghhh?" She eyed him questioningly, not comprehending. He laughed.

"We're going to the post office together, Sophie. If you're truly ready for two weeks of being my helpless, voiceless, sex object - with no rights to your own comfort, pleasure, and opinion - you're going to start by obeying my orders."

Her ever-expressive eyes narrowed - but, to her credit, she did obey.

She returned in a turtleneck sweater dress, the clingy material hiding nothing of her swollen nipples or corseted waist or full ass. She had tucked the weights of the clamps into the top of her corset, but he did not mind - the lines of the weights would have distracted from her figure anyway. The scarf hid her mouth and the rest of the visible locks - except for the ones on her high heels. Those remained on proud display, advertising her status to the world.

He made her kneel before him with her hands behind her head again, and read the rules of their vacation to her.

The keys would be sent off via tracked post, to arrive at their holiday destination 14 days later. She had obtained all the bondage items from a specialty merchant, who also acted as their failsafe - he was on call any time and could free her if needed, but it would cost her $50,000. They both hoped it would not be needed, but they both also knew that if Anthony could release her on a whim, he would be doing so as soon as she started crying.

Every morning, after she had attended to her bathroom routine, she was to insert a remote-controlled electroplay buttplug into her, of the size scheduled for the day, increasing gradually. She was then to apply her sluttiest, most over-the-top makeup, to give her nails a fresh coat of red paint, and to do her hair in perfect ringlets down her back. She would tighten her alligator clamps to their tightest setting after having left them loose at night, and fix breakfast for him, serving it at the table.

She would then strap herself into position on his chair at the breakfast table, with her head secured at crotch level. She would put her blindfold on, slip her wrists into the restraints under the table, thus forcing her to bend forward in a kneeling strappado position, and wait for him, for as long as it took for him to arrive. She was not allowed to bring him to orgasm before he was done with breakfast.

He would feed her her liquid sustenance via a funnel gag when he deemed appropriate.

She was to be bound at all times when freedom of movement was not required to complete a particular task. Even, and perhaps especially, at night when they went to bed.

She would, of course, not be allowed a single orgasm during that entire time. He would not even touch her pussy, to prevent any "accidents" from happening. If she had pleased him sufficiently throughout, she might be allowed one at the end. Maybe.

When he was done reading, he folded the paper, which had been signed by Sophie, and slipped it into the front pocket of his shirt. Eyes gleaming, he stepped closer to her, bending over her and tilting her chin to make sure that she was looking right at him.

"Last chance, Sophie. One grunt for "yes", three grunts for your safeword."

Their eyes locked, and she uttered one, clear, grunt. She would have smiled if her gag had allowed; her face was radiant. Anthony could feel her excitement; he was sure that she could feel his.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands. "On your feet, my beautiful slut. We're going to the post office."

It was freezing outside, and there was ice on the driveway. He carried her to the car, so that she would not slip in her extreme heels. It did not matter - it would be warm where they were going.

***

It seemed like hours before Tony arrived at the breakfast table, although in reality (and he had timed it), it was only 30 minutes. Her nipples felt like they were on fire, and every movement sent the weights into motion, leaving them tugging painfully on her swollen nubs until they fell still again. Her knees hurt from kneeling on the hardwood floor. Her ass muscles clenched against the unaccustomed intruder within them.

Finally, he sat down, mercilessly pushing his already-raging erection all the way through her ring gag until he hit the back of her throat. "Remember, you'll have the shocks on until I'm done with breakfast if I cum before that," was all he said in response to her gagging.

She tried. The restraints allowed her head an inch or so of movement, but she held as still as she possibly could, praying and hoping that the hard shaft within her throat would subside and allow her some respite. Occasionally it would indeed subside, as he turned his focus to the food, but how could a man focus on scrambled eggs with this beauty by his feet? The mere sight of her strapped to his crotch, her painted red lips almost touching his balls, the tightly-cinched corset giving the illusion that she was all boobs - he had to get hard all over again. The whimpers and gagging only intensified that.

It wasn't even her fault, but he shot his load into her warm, moist throat 10 minutes later.

She pleaded in garbled cries, but he turned the shocks on anyway.

He'd only turned them on to a low level, but she was completely unused to them, and screamed through her gag as the electricity pulsed through the tender membranes of her anus. They were on a periodic setting, but only a few seconds apart, so she barely had time to breathe between each one.

There was still half of his food left on the plate, but he hadn't even noticed. The beauty twitching and whimpering between his legs was utterly bewitching, and within 5 minutes he realized that he was, unsurprisingly, filling her mouth again with his girth.

He watched her struggle for another quarter of an hour, his erection growing to its maximum limit, before he took mercy on her.

"I'm done, slave. You may make me cum." It was the first time he had used that term of endearment with her. In the moment, though, it all felt so right, like it was another piece of a beautiful puzzle sliding into place.

She looked puzzled at first, but then another shock rippled through her buttplug, and she screamed. She got it.

It took her a while - Anthony was not young, and at any rate seconds had always taken a while for him. But she understood what was at stake, and she tried her very best. She only had about an inch of wiggle room in her position, but she bobbed back and forth, doing her best to keep the rhythm up as the shocks shot up through her, leaving a thick ring of red lipstick on the base of his cock as her lips slammed repeatedly against it. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the mascara that she'd so painstakingly applied only an hour ago ran in black trickles down her face. She gagged each time his cock slammed all the way into the back of her throat, and her face was red with breathlessness, drool dripping all over her breasts.

Still, she persevered, and at long last she had her reward - although this time, he chose to pull out, spraying all over her face and hair.

Anthony lay back in his chair, breathing heavily and just savouring the moment, until a garbled scream alerted him to the fact that the poor, bedraggled slut before him was still having shocks sent up her ass.

"Here you go," he said affectionately, reaching for the remote to turn the shocks off.

Normally, he would have held her, given her 20 points, maybe even given her an orgasm. But she had wanted to be his sex object, a genuine slave for the entire vacation. Her desires and wants did not matter. It had been somewhat tricky for Anthony to get himself into that mindset at the start of this, but once he had convinced himself that she truly wanted this, he was on a roll.

He slipped off her blindfold, unbuckled her wrists from the strappado position, then cuffed them in front of her with a few inches of slack to the D-ring in front of her collar.

"You've made a mess, slut," he tsked, pointing at the drool and cum dripping all over the chair and floor. "Clean this up, get the dishes done, and then you may take a shower and reapply your makeup. Meet me outside when you're done."

The shift of mindset must have hit Sophie as well. Instead of grumbling under her breath as she usually would, he could've sworn that he heard an attempt at "Yes, Master," through the gag when he stood up.

Sophie was still deep in subspace, completely engrossed in her new role. She had slept poorly after their arrival yesterday night, bound in a loose hogtie with all of the restraints on, but somehow that had only reinforced her standing to her. Multiple times throughout the night she had felt his erection poking against her as he groped her without regard for her peace, his hands running over her swollen breasts and tightly-cinched waist. Along with the forced blowjobs this morning, she was putty in his hands.

As she moved to tidy the table, she had to bend over completely to reach the plates with her cuffed wrists. Anthony could see the lips of her pussy as she did so - swollen and puffy and dripping with juices even though they hadn't even been touched.

She loved it.

And he loved that.

And so the first day went by. After her lunch feed, her predicament started to take its toll on Sophie - this was the longest that she had been bound so far, and the first time she had been expected to serve without respite for a fortnight... and she still had 13 days to go. Her jaw ached with the strain of being held open the entire time - she had chosen a gag smaller than she could usually wear, but the long hours still made it feel almost unbearable.

***

Anthony woke up very early the next morning to Sophie tossing and turning in bed. He had taken some pity on her and only bound her wrists loosely in front of her, but the aches throughout her body had prevented her from getting any real sleep. She had looked so miserable that he had sleepily reached behind her head as if to take the gag off - and then realized that he couldn't, not without the keys. Their eyes met, and at that moment the reality of the commitment she had made hit her, and she began to cry.

He held her tenderly, stroking her hair and massaging her jaw. "Sophie. Do you want me to call the locksmith? Grunt your safeword if you do. 3 quick grunts, remember."

She buried her face in his shoulder, and shook her head slightly.

He hugged her until her tears dried, then said to her quietly, "Then I'll hold you to your commitment, slave. Get up and start your morning routine. Remember it's the second buttplug today. I'll be inspecting you."

A small smile lighted up her dark green eyes as she rose unsteadily from the bed.

Her feet ached in the enforced high heels. The underside of the corset dug painfully into her breasts the moment she broke her posture, a constant reminder to keep her back straight. Even the skin of her neck was tender where the collar had dug into it at night.

But she had to endure. She wanted to, more than anything else she had ever wanted.

***

Anthony took her "out" after breakfast, after locking her arms behind her in a tight armbinder and clipping a 6-inch chain between her ankles. The property was a cottage by a lake, with plenty of private grounds, so she was completely naked except for her bondage.

It was a lovely day, a bright blue sky, with birds singing in the trees. But all of her attention had to be given to navigating the grassy terrain with the chained high heels.

He brought her to a clearing, then tossed a few twigs around in a wide circle.

"So," he said, rubbing his hands in glee. "I figured you'd need a little exercise, since you won't be going to the gym all fortnight. I've programmed a little surprise for you today, Sophie."

She remained at attention, although her eyebrows furrowed a little in suspicion.

"Your buttplug today has an accelerometer built into it. When I turn it on," he clicked the button, "You have 5 seconds to cover 10 meters, or you'll get a nice shock. And it'll keep growing until you get there."

She stared at him for a while... and then it hit her, and she started running, with tiny hobbled steps. The shocks started, and she squealed, but still she kept running. Finally it abated, and she paused for breath, turning to look at him.

He laughed. "It's still going, Sophie..."

And so she understood what the circle was for.

After she had made a few rounds, he clicked off the remote. She was panting for breath, drooling through the gag, and covered with a thin sheet of sweat. Her chest heaved in small, quick breaths, constricted by the corset.

"Now it'll get REALLY interesting," chuckled the bastard, as he pulled a dildo out of his pocket. Tilting her head back, he pushed it deep into her mouth.

Their eyes met, hers somewhat confused.

"There's a proximity meter in this one. When I turn on that setting, it has to be close to the one in your ass, or your ass'll get shocked. In addition to any shocks you'll get for not moving fast enough."

She started screaming in protest. The dildo slipped from her mouth, and toppled onto the ground.

Anthony simply picked it up and put it back in. "The next time I have to do this, you'll be waiting a minute for it," he reminded her, and then clicked the remote.

She was running in a circle again, but this time with her head up and doing her best not to jostle the cock in her mouth. The weights attached to her nipples swung wildly, and breath was even more difficult to come by. She was too slow, and she was shocked until she picked up speed.

Anthony watched her for a while, and then was content to simply sit on the ground outside the circle, enjoying the show.

And what a show she was. She was jiggling and straining in all the right places, screaming and crying and pleading in garbled whimpers. The dildo in her mouth fell out after a while, and she stood there staring helplessly at it for a while before the increasing shocks began. Then she moved, but after a few steps the new shocks began, interspersed within the old ones. These were more bearable, as they did not increase, but it was still a constant assault of pain that she could do nothing about.

After a minute, he put the dildo back into her mouth. Her eyes watered with gratitude, and she was much more careful this time.

Finally satisfied that she was capable of holding the dildo in her mouth on her own, Anthony stood up. "I'll be napping in the hammock nearby. Scream louder if you need me," he called out cheerfully.

Amazingly, he actually did manage to fall asleep.

***

It was Day 3, and Sophie had moved on to the bigger buttplug. It was a challenge to get it in, but she managed, and Anthony approved at the inspection.

She had forgotten to tighten her clamps all the way up, though, and was punished with a good caning that left red stripes on her buttocks, supplemented with automated buttplug shocks whenever she clenched her buttocks against the onslaught.

She had really found her submission during this retreat, Anthony realized. She was more pliable, eager to please, eager to take suffering for him without complaint, desiring only to serve. No more grumbles or protests or narrowed eyebrows. The constant bondage and servitude had turned her into a slightly different version of her old self. She was still Sophie, but she was also truly a slave now.

And for himself? He noticed that he was more capable of hardening himself, of taking what he wanted and seeing her as an object to be used for his pleasure. He'd found a degree of sadism that he'd never thought he'd have last night, when he'd pounded her mouth as she was sobbing from the pain of the bondage she'd put herself in. And this morning, when he had punished her thoroughly for her mistake, despite knowing she'd barely slept a wink last night.

It wasn't just about playing games and watching her get turned on anymore. It was something much, much more.

He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that, but he reasoned with himself that he'd discuss that with her after the fortnight was over. If they didn't like the change, they could just go back to how things were before, he reckoned.

***

"Come in," Mason intoned, barely paying attention to the light knock on the door of his study. It was past midnight, but he was a firm supporter of the belief that sleep was for the weak.

Karen slipped in, not making a sound on the carpeted floor despite carrying a stack of papers and being dressed in transparent high heels (and nothing else). She dropped to her knees by the side of his plush leather armchair, head bowed, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

She waited for 20 minutes before he motioned for her to speak up.

"Master, there were two incidences last week that I thought you should know of."

"Well?"

"James has been accessing his admin privileges from outside the building, Master."

Mason blinked and dropped his pen, finally turning to look at her fully. The corners of Karen's lips tugged upwards in a slight smile, but she kept her head bowed. "Hmm. How do you know this?"

"I noticed an unauthorized access the previous week, Master, so I dug deeper into it. He was using a VPN, but I asked a favour of our friends at Sysnetcom and they traced it to his apartment."