Remedial Services

You look at the building at the specified address. It just does not look right. Your Master had made arrangements to use the dungeon in the advertisement -- "Dungeon for Hire", but this is a modern building in the business part of the city. Surely this cannot be right. You approach the door and see a small brass plate that says 'REMEDIAL SERVICES inc.' Well this should be it. You enter into a nicely appointed reception area -- it could be a gym, a doctor's office or anything like that. A smartly dressed young woman of about 30 years old is seated at a desk. There is soft music playing and a coloured water fountain is sprinkling into a bowl of water lilies. Tropical fish are swimming around it.

'Oh, I, er, wonder if this is the right address. My name is Mrs Smith (Your Master had made the booking in a false name for the sake of discretion), I should have an appointment.'

'Ah yes,' said the girl glancing at her monitor,' you have the use of our facilities for the whole of the afternoon. The account has been settled, so I just need you to sign the consent form.' You look at the form. It is in legal jargon, but boils down to your agreeing to be responsible for what happens. You sign it and hand it to the young lady.

'Yes, that is fine. I assume you have not been here before, so I will explain what to do. Please go through that door over there. It will lead you into a changing room. Please get undressed until you are completely nude and place your things in the locker. Here is a key for it. You can loop the ribbon round your neck to keep it safe while you are having your treatment. Please help yourself to coffee or chilled water. Once you are ready, open the door at the other side of the room and go down the steps. Please be careful, they are very steep and may be a bit slippery. If you have no questions you can go through if your ready.'

'Oh, thank you.' It is not quite what I expected. I thought it was an actual dungeon. Actually it is all rather nice.'

The young lady smiled. 'I am sure you not be disappointed madam. I trust you will enjoy your treatment.

You enter the dressing room and once again it is a beautifully decorated room with a comfortable sofa, coffee table, a coffee machine and a water cooler. Soft piped music is playing. The only thing giving an indication of what is to come - On the wall there are a number of pictures showing naked ladies some with sore bottoms, others with marks on their breasts.

You strip off and after a glass of water from the cooler you move over to the door you must enter.

Immediately, you are conscious of a chilly draught of cool air. After the brightness of the dressing room, the stairway is very dim. You can just make out a flight of stone steps going down into the gloom. With growing trepidation you start to descend the steps. You cannot see where they lead because after about ten steps there is a bend in the staircase. You begin to shiver in the cool air and as you approach the bend in the stairs you realise that the walls are damp with water trickling down. Suddenly something scuttles in the dark and what looks like a small creature vanishes into a small hole. You stifle a shriek of horror. As you slowly go round the bend in the stairs you feel that your bare feet are getting damp. The water is beginning to form puddles. This is weird. You know it is a modern building, yet somehow a medieval dungeon has been created. You reach the bottom of the stairs and there is a short corridor leading to a heavily studded wooden door. There is about three inches of cold water accumulating on the floor and you gingerly paddle through it. There is a step up to the dungeon door and it creaks open as you push. It is pitch black through the door. A tinny voice says 'Enter.' It is something like an automated voice as if someone is speaking into a voice distortion device.

You hesitate not wanting to move into the darkness. The voice repeats its instruction, but with a sense of menace. You enter the chamber with a tentative step. A hand grabs your arm and pulls you to the centre of the room. A bright light is suddenly switched on bathing you in an intense, blinding light. You blink, trying to see around you, but you are dazzled. A fan or air conditioning unit is blowing cold air and you start to shiver, either from fear or the cold. Probably both.

As your eyes begin to penetrate the gloom outside the circle of light you can just make out two hooded figures. You think, you hope one of them is your master, but you have no way of knowing.

'Are you ready for your treatment, slut?' enquired the mechanical voice.

'I, I think so. I'm a bit cold.'

One of the men steps forward and without warning slaps you hard on the side of your face and immediately repeats the action with his other hand at the other side. Your head is knocked from side to side and tears began to well up. This is a shock. You knew to expect a tit slapping and an ass caning, but the face slaps are deeply humiliating as well as very, very painful.

'Two mistakes bitch. Number one you address us as "Sir." Number two -- we don't like complaints.' As if to emphasise the point the other man reaches down and grabs your cunt, squeezing the labia hard and then twisting his hand. He holds the flesh tight for several seconds and then suddenly releases his grasp and follows up with a hard slap full on your vagina.

The first man then quickly binds your wrists tightly with rope and loops it to a hook from a pulley in the ceiling. The second man winds a handle on the wall and gradually your arms are hauled up until you are standing on your toes. Two little pumps are placed over your nipples and plungers are pulled drawing your nipples into the glass tubes. As the pressure increases you can sense your nipples being stretched. It is a strange feeling. When the tubes are secure on your tits, the men begin to hand slap your tits. The pain makes you gasp and your arms are beginning to ache from the stretching effect as they support your weight.

After several minutes of slapping, your titties are getting very red and sore. Then one of the men removes the suction tubes from your nipples. They are now elongated and very sensitive. Each man grasps a sore nipple between their finger and thumb and begin to squeeze. You squeal with pain and despite being on your toes, you start to stamp your feet up and down, starting a bizarre dance on the cold dungeon floor. Then one of the men takes up a thin cane and begins to work on your ass. He swings the cane and you hear it hiss as it cuts the air and then lands painfully on your buttocks. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks. As one man canes your ass, the other works you sensitive nipples, twisting and squeezing. You hardly know where the pain is worse. Your world is an explosion of sheer agony. The men stop and stand back and watch you hang from your bonds. You are crying and gasping in pain.

'Your arms must be aching by now. Here let me support you,' says one of the men.

He puts his hand in between your thighs and three fingers go up your cunt hole. He lifts you off the ground supporting your weight on the palm of his hand as his fingers grope you vagina. You wriggle and squirm on his hand; the pain is diminished as you writhe on his fingers as they thrust up your wet hole. The other man goes round the other side and prises open the crack of your ass, exposing your puckered rosebud hole. He starts to insinuate a finger into that most intimate place. Instinctively you clench your buttocks tight. He slaps your bum hard with his spare hand and keeps pushing until your sphincter parts allowing his finger up your ass hole. He finger fucks your ass as his friend frigs your hot cunt. You writhe and squirm, gasping in agony and ecstasy. With a final yell you orgasm, writhing and wriggling in your bonds. The hands are withdrawn and you hang limply, gasping for breath.

A wet hand is thrust into your mouth for you to lick clean. You slurp hungrily on your juices. Then a musky finger is offered for cleaning. You greedily lick up your own ass essences.

Later you shower in the dressing room, dress and walk through into reception.

'Did you enjoy your experience Madam?' enquired the receptionist. 'Will we have the pleasure of seeing you again?'

'Yes, I did, thank you and yes you will.'

'Have a nice day.'