Th Undercover

The last 'instrument' was a wooden horse. A slightly rounded, padded top with a socket under a flap for a dildo. And assorted weights stacked underneath to press a person down on the edge and the dildo all the way up in the person's vagina.

The walls were covered with the instruments of her 'training': One spot had dildos hanging neatly according to size. From the smallest to the largest. Another held an assortment of whips, floggers, canes and crops, another again held rope, nicely wound and hung in perfect order, chains, shackles and everything one could imagine would be in a perfect BDSM room.

There was not much free space on the walls -- except just around the bed, she was sitting on.

Later Jeanette and Yvonne sometimes came in and cleaned everything on the wall, checked them and made sure all was in perfect order -- under supervision of course. She was never left alone with the girls.

After having looked round with increasing anxiety, she rolled down on the bed and fell in to an uneasy rest. She was so tired and worn out that the discomfort of having her hands locked on her back, her waist compressed by the corset and her anus expanded by the dildo did not make any difference -- she dozed off.

She barely noticed that the light dimmed to a low reddish colour as soon as she was down on the bed.

Jeanette and Yvonne woke her up as the light was turned up again. They gently treated her body with oils and ointment. There was no talking as a masked man kept guard over them.

When they left and she collapsed once more on the bed, she thought of when she was going to address one of the men, tell the truth and get out of there.

The next week was what she later described to herself as 'the missing week of my life'.

In the beginning she had no chance to talk to anybody. Every session began with her being shut up with one form of gag or another -- usually by Jeanette or Yvonne, who were the only recognizable persons during her stay in this 'Cellar'.

All others wore masks, and sometimes even she would be masked, making her feel like an anonymous body, just for free use.

She quickly lost sense of time. The light was dimmed most of the time, but turned up to full strength a few minutes before someone would enter and begin 'training' her. After a session -- that usually lasted for about an hour or so, they left and the light was immediately dimmed again.

She did not know this, but there was an irregular interval of approximately 3 hours between sessions -- round the clock.

Food was also the same -- and served at equally irregular intervals.

They were serious in not letting her touch herself. The first many meals were forgone by Jeanette and Yvonne mounting her with a locked steel chastity belt and a chastity bra. The bra was made of two round, metallic orbs -- neoprene lined and fitting over her breasts. These two 'cups' were held in place by chains placed much like an ordinary bra.

The Chastity belt was a neoprene-lined steel encasing of her waist, two chains down her buttocks and a steel shield in front. Making sure no contact to her vagina and surrounding area was possible.

When that was in place, her hands were released and she could eat -- supervised by a Master and Yvonne and Jeanette. In this way they made sure she did not even accidentally touched herself. Everyone had free access to her most intimate places -- except herself.

She thought about refusing to eat, but gave up the idea almost immediately. Partly because she was very hungry and thirsty when food was served, partly because the first couple of times, she had refused to eat, she had been punished by a severe whipping for misbehaving.

After she had eaten, her hands would be secured again -- and her openings and breasts were freed for use again.

The training was something else. She quickly learned that the little box in front of her collar held a battery -- and that two small metal electrodes protruded the insides of the collar and was touching the skin of her neck.

She hated the collar from the first moment. She would be ordered to do something -- and in the beginning refuse -- in shear spite. It would result in a number of jolts from the two electrodes on the inside of the collar and in close contact with the sensible skin on the sides of her larynx - till she complied. In the beginning it took several jolts, and she had tears running down her cheeks -- but very, very quickly she learned to comply -- fast.

The only thing, she achieved by insisting to refuse was that they increased the voltage on the remote and continued jolting her -- till she could not stand it and did what she was told.

She also quickly learned that if she did not comply immediately, she would be punished for being disobedient -- after she had done as ordered -- usually by whipping, cropping or caning.

She very quickly realized that it was in her own best interest to do as she was told.

The remote control hung just inside the door together with a pair of 'cattle prods' i.e. long sticks with a handle and battery in one end and a two-pronged electrode in the other. There was also two smaller 'prods' used with equally nasty effects on her body.

When she first tried to talk to a Master -- shortly after her plight had started, she never got very far. As soon as she had said a word or two, she was jolted and told that talking was prohibited. As a whipping for talking without permission followed the jolting, it quickly killed any idea of her trying to explain and be set free.

She kept her mouth shut, and aimed at being released when they eventually let her out of this torture chamber -- which they had to do sooner or later.

Cleaning was something else. Once in a while, Jeanette and Yvonne took her to the 'cleaning area' at the far end of the room. Of course supervised by a Master. Her hands were released from her back and she was hung by her wrists on the rail leading to the small shower niche. The collar was removed, and the Master unscrewed the battery box by a small screw on the inside of the collar -- and replaced the box with a freshly charged one while she was cleaned.

With her feet still solid planted on the floor, the Master unlocked the dildo and corset -- and the girls removed both items. She was then pulled up -- off the floor, pushed as she glided along the rail into the niche. Here her feet were attached to rings on each side -- holding her legs slightly apart. The door was closed and a series of nozzles in all four corners washed her -- much like a carwash -- but without the rotating brushes, she thought.

The only deviation from this routine was, when she was administered the regular enema followed by her emptying herself on the toilet in the box on the side of the bed.

After she had been sprayed with a soapy solution and afterwards with clean water, the door was opened and she was pulled out on the rail.

While still hanging there, they dried her with soft towels, and treated her body -- and whip marks -- with ointment and oils.

Then the corset came on again. The corset was tightened a little more each time, until there were no more holes for the straps. Then it was replaced with another corset. This one starting a little under her breasts, but leaving them free and ending just below her navel. The new one having a maximum corresponding to the old ones minimum -- and the reducing of her waist kept on. She was always out of breath and in more or less pain from her compressed insides. Even though the corset had a soft lining, her skin was reddish and bore the clear marks of it every time it was off. The girls oiled and greased this part of her body with extra care each time they had the chance.

The Master fitted the hated collar round her neck, and she was taken down and her hands locked again on her back.

As she was always fitted with a 'fresh' battery in her collar it was no problem to make her stand in front of the scaffold by the side of the bath, spread her legs and have them attached to rings in the floor, make her bend over the horizontal beam, and attach a chain from a ring on the floor in front of her to her collar.

Often the Master would 'try her out' -- that is he would fuck her in her back opening to check for size and comfort, and then -- checking or no checking -- the rod -- or a larger equivalent was pushed inside her and locked.

When all had been done she was back on her chain on the bed.

Even though it was rather degrading to be washed and cleaned this way, she learned to appreciate it. Usually she had dried semen all over her body and was sweaty and hurting, so the lukewarm water was quite a relief.

They liked to play games with her.

One game was to have her in the low 'chair' tied up with her legs spread in the 'U'-holders, and electrodes attached to her tits, labia, clit (by a nasty small clip), to the rod in her anus and a rod in her cunt.

A controlling box on the floor in front of her -- wired to the electrodes - would send jolts through her body -- at random intervals, at random strength and at random points on her body.

Sometimes a Master would sit on a low chair and watch her sometimes she would be left alone to endure the ordeal.

When exposed to this kind of torture, she could not tell where the next jolt would come, how strong it would be, if it would just hit one place of her body, or several at once. Therefore she could not prepare herself for the jolt, just take a deep breath and hope it would be weak and on a not too sensitive spot.

She was never left to herself -- although it might seem so. Webcams placed hidden all over the place made sure that she was under 24/7 surveillance from a room down the hall outside.

Another game was that the long, low, wooden beam would be fitted with upright dildos. Usually ten - in ever increasing sizes. She would get the option of getting 50 lashes with a tool the Master chose and on a place of her body that he also decided, or she could choose to mount the dildos from one end. Each dildo counted for 5 lashes.

She would step over the beam, and on the Masters signal, descent on the first one. To make absolutely sure she had gone all the way down, her ankles were connected by rope to a long rail underneath the beam. Yvette and Jeanette would each hold the end of a rope. When she confirmed that she was all the way down, the Master would give the girls a nod and they would hold her by her upper arms and pull the rope, making her feet lift off the ground.

He would then ask her if she would mount the next one and if she agreed, her feet were lowered, she was told to stand up, move forward and descend on the next one -- and so on.

If she stopped, the number of dildos left would be counted, and the number of lashes administered.

If she agreed to do the next one, but failed to go the entire way down, the whole thing would be void, and she would get the full 50 lashes.

Sometimes the dildos had small chains attached, and that meant that the last one she descended on would be locked to her corset, released from the beam and stay inside her for as long as the Master desired.

She very quickly realized that the only way out was to be very, very obedient, or at least make them believe she was. When she got out, she would seek out John as soon as possible, and have him aid her in leaving this place.

In the end of her time in the cellar, she was so obedient that she often fell to her knees and offered her open mouth with the tongue out to a Master that was about to punish her. The Masters often let her give them head, and sometimes it worked, but sometimes she got punished anyway afterwards. She never knew.

Also in the end of her stay, she had to oil the anal dildo herself, bend over and use her hands to spread her buttocks while the Master inserted it.

To her own amazement, she was never dry, but always moist between her legs; she was easily aroused and had more and more orgasms as the training proceeded.

It seemed like she was getting more and more sensitive. Before she had often failed to orgasm -- with John or other lovers, she had had, but here she always came -- and often long before the man using her. Her bound and forced state apparently had a strange effect on her sensitivity and sexuality.

It was not all pain. Sometimes she was gently fucked -- sometimes by more than one at a time, sometimes they kept on and on and on -- using their bodies and electric vibrators making her come again and again -- and again. Till she screamed and begged them to stop -- and then some.

Most of the time she was exhausted and just fell into a daze when the light was dimmed. She usually managed to look at herself in the overhead mirror as her eyes closed. It was the last thing, she saw when falling asleep, and the first thing she saw when the light went up again: Her body in its restraints, helpless on the bed.

She noticed that the women never had keys. Keys were the Masters privilege, and when something had to be unlocked -- either an accompanying Master did so, or he handed one of the girls his set of keys to use for the specific task.

When she was initially prepared, she remembered that all locks had been open on the trolley. The girls just had to mount them and close them.

Yvonne and Jeanette were very gentle with her. Sometimes they even managed to whisper a few sentences. They had to be careful though. Once Yvonne was discovered whispering and she was whipped hard as Cat had to watch and count the strokes.

In the beginning they said: "Do everything you're told. Then it won't be so bad!" and 'Hold out. It is over soon!" One day, when she was in tears, both of them kissed her cheeks, and whispered: "Brave girl. You're almost through it!"

She was sure that they both had been through this 'initial training'.

She did not know if John had been any of the Masters visiting her in the cellar. They were all masked, and she was surprised, that she had not figured out if he was one of the men having her.

None of the Masters had made any sign or gesture that it was John -- so she had to endure.

In fact John followed her closely. It was a decision that they would have no contact. She had to feel all alone and without any means of help during her stay. Sometimes he would watch in the webcam-room for long periods of time, sometimes he would discretely mix with a group of Masters and enjoy himself. He rather liked the fact that she did not seem to know him from the rest.

Chapter six

The obedient slave

Everything eventually ends -- and so did her stay in the cellar. When Jeanette and Yvonne led her out -- hands still locked on her back and the black hood over her head, she knew that she would never forget the time there.

What she did not realize was that in all future, the cellars would be in her subconscious mind. Knowing that at any time she might find herself back in the dreadful place.

She was taken up -- maybe to the third floor, and put in a nice warm bath for a very long time. After that, they went over her body meticulously, oiling, greasing and repairing all the marks and scratches. She was sore in her anus, sore in her vagina, tired and exhausted. To her surprise she also found that she was a proud that she had endured her time in the cellar.

While the attended to her, they found time for a little whispering. "You're lucky to be in this section!"

"Why?"

"These are nice rooms, and your attendant is Lonnie. He's very nice and gentle and does not abuse the girls!"

"What's an attendant?"

"This is modelled around 'The Story of O', so of course you have an attendant. They are usually young men that are interested in this, but does not have the funds to become full members."

"I see."

"Don't make the mistake of thinking he is not like the other men. The attendants can use us, and do whatever they want, when no one else is requiring our service. They have keys but not for everything, and the are allowed to punish us as they please -- and they are ordered to now and again."

To her it sounded little different from the Masters -- maybe except their age.

"Be careful. If they find out you are getting too friendly with your attendant, they will change him. We are supposed to be submissive -- not friends with any of our superior's....shyyy..here he comes..."

Hello Cat. I'm Lonnie - your caretaker while you are here. Is she ready?"

"Yes, Sir. Quite ready!"

"OK. You may leave."

"Thank you, Sir"

"Stand up, Cat!"

She rose and stood. Her legs apart and her arms down her sides. She looked down at the floor.

"Look at me!"

She looked up into his very blue eyes. They locked eyes for a short while.

His dress was different from the Masters. He had a bare, well-trained torso. A leather utility belt almost like the Masters, and tight sitting trousers. He had no triangular patch in front, but his genitals hung out through a small hole in the front. He was wearing something that looked like military boots -- maybe Doc Martens.

He wore the usual thin, black gloves.

"Fold your hands behind your head, please."

She complied and he let one hand slide over her side, and up to her breast. Slowly playing with her nipple. It responded immediately and hardened under his soft caress.

His hand went from her breast to her chin. He held her head and moved it from side to side. Studying her features.

"You're very beautiful, Cat!"

This was a surprise. In the lack of anything to answer, she just said. "Thank you, Sir."

To which he smiled.

"I'm sure we are going to get along fine."

"Me too, Sir!"

"Good. Now turn round!"

Exposing her back to him, he took a grip round her now considerably thinner waist, then slid down and felt her buttocks.

"Turn again. Give me your hands, please!"

She did as told, stretching her hands out towards him.

He clicked them together, and then to her collar.

"You may sit on the bed now."

"Yes, Sir."

She sat on the edge of the bed, which was considerably softer than the one in the cellar.

"You will now have a longer resting period. I suggest you try and get some sleep." He said while gently pushing her down on the bed.

The chain hanging from the ring above the bed was attached to her collar, and the whole arrangement was padlocked together.

He showed her a button on one side of the bed -- a large half round thing. He told her to press that if she needed his attention -- if f. inst. she needed to go to the bathroom.

"Now roll on your back and spread your legs, please!"

She did so.

"Lift you knees and spread more, more! That's fine."

He looked up her open crotch. Then leaned forward. She gasped as he grabbed her outer labia, and pulled them apart. She felt a finger entering her and moving around inside her. Her body responded immediately.

With two fingers he pulled the hood back from her clit, and another finger caressed the sensitive point.

She felt her body shiver slightly and was not able to control it.

He sat up. Pushed her legs down.

"Lovely!" Was all he said.

He then pulled the cover over her, stroked her hair and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well, beautiful little slave girl."

He turned the light out before he closed the door behind him.

There was a dimmed light from the curtained windows.

She had a look round her new room. It was dominated by the large bed in which she was lying chained. There was a full sized mirror in the ceiling making it almost impossible for her not to watch herself.

At the end of the bed were two posts. All the way from the ceiling to the floor, and with rope, chains and rings hanging from them. The chain from her collar did not allow her to reach the posts -- of course.

The arrangement was similar to the cellar: She could move in a short radius from the ring on the wall, but only to a little over halfway down the bed and on a small area on each side.