No-LIMIT-Rooms 02 English

No-LIMIT-Rooms 02

Kumiho

English

2021

*** Translated from German with DeepL***

C O N T E N T

9 Kinky Shiny Torture Show

10 Studio hopping

11 Moth

12 AI Room

13 Hal and Dalek

14 Slave contract

15 Lost time

16 Paladins

9 Kinky Shiny Torture Show

I had to digest this news first. So Nadine was indeed alive, at least two months ago, and had last been seen at an airport in Cyprus. That was good news. It was the hottest lead in months. I was itching to leave immediately myself and fly to Cyprus, but of course that was nonsense. I would certainly be able to find out less than Holger's colleagues. My futile research in Russia had shown me my limitations. After all, it all fit together. There was a Russian oligarch involved. I didn't dare imagine what she was going through. My little sister, well, I was 4 minutes older than her after all, had always been more delicate and sensitive than me. Not least because of that, she had asked me for help when there was trouble with Kevin. And I had screwed up thoroughly. Kevin was dead, my sister was in the clutches of unscrupulous human traffickers, and I had accumulated immense debts, both material and immaterial, in my search for her. Without help, I myself would no longer be alive. And then this double life, no, triple life I corrected myself. One spark, and everything could blow up. I absolutely needed a lot of money to be able to act independently again. My shooting date came back to me.

I put the card with the message written on very thin paper on the bench next to me and fished a small bottle of water out of one of my shopping bags. After I had drunk something from it, I set it down next to me so clumsily that it tipped over and poured its contents all over the card. Cursing loudly, I tried to save the card, which I only partially succeeded in doing. The message had completely disintegrated in seconds. This would also have happened if I had put it in my mouth, but that would have been really conspicuous here. The little cat poem inside the card remained legible, of course, but the card itself was now wet and unsightly. There was no reason to pick it up. I looked at it with obvious regret and then threw it in the wastebasket. If I had been observed here, and they would fish the card out of the wastebasket, there was nothing suspicious to be found.

Paranoia had already become second nature to me. Fortunately. I had been able to quickly spot the hidden camera in my room, although it was really well camouflaged. The camera itself didn't bother me, I had offered 24/7 live-cam show myself before. But of course I needed to know where her blind spots were and if there were more. My instruction had been really thorough in that regard, though. The trick, after all, was not to find a hidden camera - you could do that with almost any cell phone and the appropriate app - but to look for it inconspicuously. From a student, who had used her special inclinations to finance her studies, to here, had been a strange path. 3 years ago a successful student and now? Crown witness, porn actress, detective in her own business, free ... investigator (or was that officially called information procurer?), and wanted by the Russian mafia. At least from the latter I had the least to fear, since they had no picture of me to recognize me. I had been able to hide my double life well before, and there were hardly any photos from my civilian life. And none of them they had. They only knew that I was Nadine's sister, knew my old name; possibly had pictures of me with a lot of makeup and a fake wig, and knew that I was good at poker. The only way they could have caught me or met me had been my sister, and they had used that. The unused pregnancy test was the only memento I had left of her.

I have no doubt that German target investigators have a good track record, but my sister was not a high priority with them. Lack of personnel in all areas. After all, my new papers were so genuine that they stood up to any scrutiny. I could even use them to apply for visas in other countries without any problems. If I didn't have to spend so much money on the futile search

I could take a quiet job somewhere and lead a secluded life until the matter had blown over. I could take a quiet job somewhere and lead a secluded life until the grass had grown over the matter. But apart from the fact that this was out of the question for me, as long as my sister was in the hands of these criminals, I was heavily in debt. Not only with the bank and I had to pay that back now. Therefore, I did the only thing I knew, with which I could earn fast good money, and hid me quasi in the public. Hoping that this was exactly what they were not expecting. My overworked supervisor had thrown his hands up in horror, saying only that I was on my own from now on. But he was still covering for me so far. No idea what he would say if he knew what I had gotten myself into now: thrilled or horrified?

Soon I arrived back at the apartment building with my groceries. I hadn't noticed a tail all day, so if there was one, it must have been pretty darn good. Maybe they relied on digital surveillance, but I wouldn't bet on it. Even Holger had been able to find out so little about this building beforehand that it was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to sneak me in here. Or actually not. He had approached me precisely because they expected that I could find access here. Six months, at the most a year, they had calculated, I should investigate and provide them with information. In the meantime, they were searching for my sister with their considerably more extensive possibilities, promising to free her if necessary. So far Holger had kept his word. Now I had to keep mine, whether I liked it or not. Surely Rebecca had already tapped Holger. Following his digital trail to his Facebook account was easy for a professional. And there they found lots of pictures. Of his family, his friends, his mother Christa with her new kittens, and also of me. How we had made a group trip into the mountains. I was honestly amazed at how much effort had been put into my camouflage. In addition, I got a complete made-up circle of friends, each with their own vita. And, to match my new identity, they had completely reassembled my resume. How many of my 'friends' were real, or existed only in the digital world, I could not say. But of some, I knew they were real. I had to learn a story about each one. They had been extremely thorough. Holger was now my childhood friend in Rotenburg Wümme, a small town in northern Germany. Completely harmless.

I was a little tense, wondering if I might be expected and asked uncomfortable questions when I arrived. But nothing of the sort happened. I was greeted by a friendly nod from the front desk and made my way to my room without a hitch.

After putting away my purchases, I made myself presentable. I still had some time before the shoot, but I still wanted to be ready in time. Today would be exhausting, but for the first time in a long time I felt no inner despair, and need to numb this with sexual pleasure, or just pain, but hope. I checked my pad for messages. Thomas had sent me something: small changes for today. My outfit had been exchanged for another one. Where did they get something like that? I dove back into my new identity as Kumiho. So all this was in store for me today? Gosh, my day would become even more strenuous than I had thought. If it went on like this, I wouldn't be able to work up here at all, because I'd probably need all the time for rest between the shoots downstairs. But the tax office was really the least of my worries at the moment. Besides, my 'tax advisor' had explained to me that they had a solution for that, too. Basically, I was even fine with standing in front of the camera mostly at the bottom. So anonymized, nobody could track me down. Stupidly I overlooked with this train of thought-something I really could not have expected.

I was practically boiled in my own sweat. The spotlights radiated a heat that one should not think possible with modern technology. Mimi, Vixen and I stood in latex outfits on the show stage. Each of us in a different outfit, but all had in common that crotch and breasts remained free. We also wore extremely high-heeled shoes, which would become important. In addition, 'The Punisher' was dressed in a sexy tight black latex costume, which covered his penis, but not his broad, muscular chest. On his head he wore a black cloth with eye slits as an executioner's mask, and on his wrists black leather cuffs. Black leather boots completed him down, the only thing missing was a whip. Under the mask hid René, who only masked and played in different roles down here. And for sure I would be allowed to go into close combat with him in front of the camera. I was already excited about that, but sexual intercourse was not on the plan today. This time it was completely technical, that began already with the scenery. In contrast to what I had seen yesterday, the background was a completely repellent monochrome green, it was a green screen. This must have been changed during the night, yesterday there had been a completely different background, probably so that the cameraman could mark his positions and the lighting technicians could adjust the lighting.

In the recording, our real images were mixed with a virtual studio, so that it looked to the audience as if we were standing on the stage of a TV show on television. The name was Kinky Shiny Torture Show. We three latex sluts competed against each other in different disciplines. The viewers had the opportunity to place bets on us at home. The winner of the challenge got a prize. This was not just a fictitious incentive, but a real one. While we would receive money for our participation in this alone, the payment was in proportion to our performance. The winner received the most money.

Vixen with black hair, wore a red 3/4 jumpsuit with removable chest covering, open crotch, high collar and sleeves to the wrists. Matching red latex boots. Mimi, or down here by the name Kiki El-Grande, wore with her blonde hair her latex nurse's hood, a turquoise nurse's smock, unbuttoned to below her breasts, held together in the middle by a white latex pinafore with red trim and red cross, while her crotch was of course unbuttoned again and clearly visible. Her ultra-long white latex stockings were tucked into red open-toed high heels. I wore a reddish-brown, slightly transparent and black trimmed at the forearms and high collar full-body latex suit. My firm breasts peeked perkily out of the openings for them, at the crotch the suit had an oval cutout from front to back. Around the middle I was laced with a black latex corsage, and on my feet I wore black lace-up boots. Open wounds or bruises we did not have to fear today, there were neither blows nor needle play, but painless it would not go at all for us. In fact, we were to show what we could endure in the various disciplines. We could set the limit ourselves by lifting our thumbs from the buttons that each of us held in our hands.

Even the first task was difficult. The name of the discipline was 'One Bar Prison Shock'. In front of each of us was a knee-high post with a glass dildo on it. Our task was to squat down, insert the dildo into our vaginas without using our hands, and lift it up. In the process, we also lifted the post. At the end, we had to stand with our knees stretched out, impaled on a post, as it were, with the dildo sunk as far as possible into us. The post had a grid function, so we could do it in stages. If we let go of the button, the post immediately sank all the way down again. If we lost contact with the dildo, the same thing happened. Who brought it the farthest, won. To make the whole thing nastier, the dildos were equipped with electrodes that would give us electric shocks of increasing strength the longer we needed. A loud countdown counted the seconds until the next current level. The faster we were, the less painful it would be for us.

And off we went: balancing on my high heels, I squatted down and tried, with my vagina still dry, to pick up the dildo. This had two reasons: on the one hand I should pull him up with my vaginal muscles or clamp between the legs, where it would be counterproductive to salivate the dildo or to have a too wet column, because then he would slip out more easily, on the other hand moisture was also an excellent conductor of electricity. So I accepted the pain of a dry penetration. But it was not easy. I had hardly inserted it halfway when I received the first electric shocks. They were still quite mild, a little more than a tingle. But the countdown was counting relentlessly. So I pushed myself all the way on top of him, tensed my pelvic floor and tried to pull him up. The countdown was over, the signal for the next stage came. Behind us, a bar with a hundred levels was displayed on the virtual studio wall, from green to yellow to red. The strength was still in the green range. What the audience saw, we could see on a monitor in front of the stage. The tingling was getting stronger. I pulled the dildo up a bit, almost lost it, inserted it again, pulled. The electric shocks became more and more violent. I lost all sense of time, was only concentration, tension and electric shocks. In the end I had done it: I stood upright impaled, with the dildo completely in my vagina. Painful electric shocks jolted through me, but I actually felt arousal from it. Then it stopped abruptly and the victory gong sounded. The indicator bar had already reached the red zone. I was the only one who had made it. Mimi and Isabell had to give up early because of pain. Triumphantly, I raised my arms and moved provocatively lustful on the dildo. The first round went to me, I let go of the button.

To my surprise, the dildo did not lower, but stayed up. René stepped forward and pushed first with Mimi, then with Isabell the dildo also so high into their vaginas that they also had to stand with their knees pressed through. The power was off, however, so this was probably not particularly unpleasant for them.

The 'Escape Challenge' began. Actually a rigged game. We had 10 minutes to get off this dildo. Whoever could do it would be the winner of the evening, so we hit the jackpot. To motivate us, the electric shocks and countdown started all over again. Again, we could cancel by letting go of the button, the electric shocks would stop immediately.

Well, the dildo wasn't particularly big, I was athletic, and so I actually got my hopes up for a short time to get off the pole. But the nasty thing wasn't called 'One Bar Prison' for nothing. The whole trick of it was: we were wearing shoes with very high heels, practically standing on our toes already. There was no way to lift ourselves up in any way, and to jump we would have had to get down on our knees beforehand, pushing the dildo through our cervix into our wombs. But this was reliably prevented by a bar under the dildo. Even if we collapsed, we would only be able to sit on the pole and not impale ourselves. I was the last to give up, even before the 10 minutes were up.

However, the purpose of this round was not at all to actually escape, but only to show the users that there was no escape from this. We were trapped without restraints.

Now it was our breasts' turn. René pushed in front of each of us a rack with two small cylinders made of Pyrex and rubber rim. At the top of the cylinders led hoses down to vacuum pumps. 'Milking Out' was the name given to this round. Large pressure gauges showed how high the vacuum achieved was. Our nipples were lovingly rubbed with milking grease by René, then we had to push them into the cylinders in front of us. When we were all ready, round three started.

Alternately, once on the left, once on the right, my sensitive nipples were sucked into the cylinders as if I were a dairy cow at the milking parlor. Of course, someone had already sucked and sucked on my nipples, but not so strongly yet. The feeling was very painful. And the negative pressure increased steadily. At first, the pain was actually exciting for me, especially in conjunction with the feeling of being filled. But as the vacuum increased, the pain increased and my arousal decreased. Finally, I gave up howling. Leading after two rounds, I was the favorite going into this round, but here Mimi beat me hands down.

After the milking machines were taken away from us, the dildo rods finally sank back down. We were free. My eyes fell on the scoreboard: I was still far ahead of Mimi and Isabell.

Now we came to the 'Ride The Cock' discipline. If the first task had not been Isabell's strong point, things looked different by the fourth round. A stool with large penis replicas was placed in front of each of us. The goal was to ride them 50 times to the lower mark. When everyone had done that, the magnificent piece was replaced by a larger one, and it started all over again. I gave up in the third round, Mimi in the fourth, but Isabell managed level 7 and even reached her peak. My mouth remained open in amazement, not only because of the size of the last specimen, but also because of Isabell's stamina.

Round 5 was called 'Erect The Nipple', but should have been called 'pull the nipple', or even better 'rip the nipple'. We each stood in front of a rack. Our ankles were cuffed to the bottom of the rack, so we couldn't step back as far. Pulleys were attached at the level of our nipples. Nylon strings ran across them, leading to clover clamps on the side facing our chests, and holding a strong magnet at the bottom on the other side. The magnets rested on small tables. Our task was to put the Clover Clamps on our nipples, lift the magnets a bit, so they came off the table, then lower them to a magazine, let more magnets attach, pull them up to the mark, lower them again, put a new magnet weight on them, and so on until either both clamps were off, the weights ran out at the bottom, or we gave up. Of course, without using of our hands. After the clamps were applied, we had to fix them behind our backs with ready-made handcuffs. There was no stop button this time. Instead, we had to shout loudly "Stop." Shout, and we would be freed by René immediately. The whole thing was on the clock. Whoever had lifted all the weights first had won. To make it more painful and difficult, the clamps were only allowed to be clamped on the nipples in front, not behind where it hurt less and the clamps sat tighter. A camera above us looked at our tits, if the clamps sat wrong, we had to take them off again and put them on again. Only when a light in front of us glowed green was that the case.

"On your marks. Ready. Go." was the command this time. Hurriedly, I grabbed the clamps and put them on me, red. Damn. Clamps on again, red. Why? Off center, okay. Re positioned, green. Hands behind my back, into the cuffs. The clamps were already hurting. Here we go. Bend over backwards, let weights swing out, bend over, let magnetic weight clip on, bend back, that was sport. Every time I pulled up the cord, a new magnet slid into place at the bottom of the compartment. However, if I was too hectic, the weights started swinging, and I had to wait for them to settle down again. In the worst case, they oscillated so violently that they came too close to each other in the middle and stuck together. Although there was a Pyrex wall right in the middle between the strings to prevent that, the magnets were so strong that 5 millimeters of Pyrex didn't matter much. Of course, that's exactly what happened to me. I had to call René for help, who pulled the magnets apart. This cost me time, too much time. When finally the last weights were hanging on, and I had pulled them up with my long, extremely sore nipples, Mimi and Isabell had already finished, freed from their clamps, and joined me on points.