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|Storycodes: Solo-f; F/f; machine/f; D/s; resort; cell; naked; bond; steel; cuffs; collar; chast; insert; gag; display; audience; hum; enema; torment; shock; denial; oral; feeding; cons/reluct; X||
|SubmissiveLand B-Dreamer Solo-f; F/f; machine/f; D/s; resort; cell; naked; bond; steel; cuffs; collar; chast; insert; gag; display; audience; hum; enema; torment; shock; denial; oral; feeding; cons/reluct; X|
Author’s note: This story was on the site a few years ago. Now it’s back with some revisions. If you like the SubmissiveLand concept, please consider buying the full-length book on Amazon. (“SubmissiveLand”) A third book is in the works but I need help from the community to make it happen. Hugs and kisses to all who visit and post at this site. XOXO
“Welcome to SubmissiveLand: the only vacation spot in the world designed, exclusively, for subs,” pronounced the greeter. Christie had just stepped off the ferry and into a reception area, along with 27 other people. Some were men, though the majority were women. Most of the crowd was straight and there were a few couples as well. It was a diverse mix that had chosen to come to this tropical island located somewhere between the Americas. Hardly any two of them alike. What they all had in common was the fact that they were all submissive. At least, that’s what they believed about themselves.
“Here you will enjoy a fulfilling, submissive experience specifically tailored to your needs and wishes contained within a safe, controlled environment. Each of you has requested a custom vacation experience, and each of you will have an opportunity to review your requests before your custom vacation begins. Please, enter the holding cell now and form a line for processing. Enjoy your stay.” There was a slight smattering of applause. Christie could tell one of the couples was really looking forward to a vacation. “We’ve been working overtime to save up for this trip. We sent the kids to Grandma’s,” she’d said. ‘What was her name, again?’ thought Christie. ‘Oh, yeah. Trish. . . . and he was Sam. Trish and Sam.’ Christie repeated the names to try to remember them. She had come alone and was nervous about making friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t want any, but Christie had always held her sexual interests close to the vest. This trip was about fulfilling some of her dreams of submission. She would make friends in the lifestyle someday, but not yet if she could help it, and she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted Trish and Sam for friends.
Trish had told her that she and her husband both had a thing for dogs, and that he would sometimes make her bark like a dog, during sex. ‘Eww,’ thought Christie. ‘please don’t say anything else.’
“No. Really! That’s what we’re gonna do. We both requested that we be fitted with dog costumes and put into a kennel. The deal is we get put into separate cages, and then for just one hour every 24 hour cycle, they join the cages. So, it’s like we have to watch each other like animals in heat all day, and then our owners finally decide to mate us. So, we have to, like, fuck each other really hard for an hour, because we know we won’t get another chance for a while.” Christie wasn’t really sure what to think of this, but she mumbled something about how refreshing it was to see two people working together to keep the embers of love burning by reaching out and trying new... blah, blah, blah. While she was pleased she would not have to be a witness to that particular pairing, she did like the denial aspect of their vacation.
Christie, herself, had worked hard for two years to save for this vacation. After a year’s time she qualified for paid vacations at her company. A female coworker, Alice, had suggested the spot. They had flirted briefly until they realized they were both submissives looking for a Dom. They settled for becoming good friends, and they liked to share stories and check out other girls and guys. Doms were Doms to them. Gender didn’t matter. Christie was pleased to learn that she and Alice, whom she looked up to at work, had similar backgrounds: both middle class and a little shy. Each had been part of the popular crowd in high school and college, but of the type more likely to follow than lead. They were both practical, level-headed, and lived within their means; happy to please and eager to latch on to the next controlling presence in their lives, whatever form it took. They kept their sexual preferences to themselves and worked hard. As Christie’s grew, Alice let on more and more about her own trip to SubmissiveLand the previous summer.
“I really like cleaning for a master. I love putting on the French Maid’s outfit and going through the house dusting and washing windows,” Alice had gushed while telling Christie. “So when I saved enough, I went to SubmissiveLand. I told them I prefer to clean while loosely bound and gagged and they gave me a dream of an experience. Every morning I was dressed in a latex maid’s uniform and ordered to clean the guest rooms. My hands and ankles would be shackled with chains about a foot and a half long. Most days I was gagged with a small red, locking ball gag, but on the last two days it was a penis gag. Those were my favorite days. If I did a good job cleaning they would strap me to a fucking machine for a few hours at the end of the day. If I did a bad job, they’d put a chastity belt with an anal plug on me and send me to bed. I only had to wear the belt twice all week!” Alice had said, almost proudly. Christie’s eyes had grown bigger with every word. “I’ve got to try this!” She responded enthusiastically. Strangely, her boss, Mr. Sticklin, almost seemed happy to let two employees go on vacation in such quick succession.
“Name?” barked the man behind the desk.
“Smith, Christie.” Responded the now nervous secretary.
“Santiago, Small, Smith.... Ah, yes. Smith, Christie. It says here tight bondage, chastity belt, orgasm denial, anal play, surprise, and a heavy dose of humiliation. Is that correct?”
“ . . . um, yes.” She answered, meekly. Did this fellow really have to announce her sexual preferences to the whole room?
“That’s a pretty heavy package. Are you sure you’re up to it? Speak up, now!”
“Yes. I can do it. It’s what I want," although Christie still wasn’t sure. While she had traded stories with Alice, admittedly, some of them she had made up. Alice was a much more experienced submissive than she was, and Christie often felt jealous. This was, in a way, her chance to prove to herself (and Alice) that she was serious about being submissive, and that if she could only meet the right Dom her life would be complete. With that in mind, Christie had chosen a vacation package that would test her in ways she hadn’t yet experienced, but had longed for. This went strictly against SubmissiveLand policy. ‘We only let new customers engage in activities they are experienced with. That way you are sufficiently relaxed at all times because you know what will be happening to you, and you can concentrate on enjoying yourself.’ This is what the saleswoman had said to her when she ordered her vacation package.
“It’s what you want, huh? Well, we’ve been waiting for you,” as he jabbed his finger at her. Doc? Over here, Doc.” He began to shout.
Suddenly a fit looking woman in a revealing nurse’s uniform approached the scene. She wore thin rimmed, angular glasses, which had a strange way of enhancing the allure of her very beautiful face. Her hair was up in a tight bun and she looked very professional, despite the leg and cleavage she was showing. “Ahh. I see, Miss Smith has joined us. This way, Miss Smith. I’ll take you to your vacation.” She swooped past the desk and down the hall, snatching the file the technician held above his head. Christie had to skip a little to keep up. Nurse ‘Doc’ spoke in a business-like fashion as she led the way, flipping through Christie’s file with her head down. “We get a lot of enthusiastic types here who ask for more than they’re capable of, Miss Smith. Any time a single girl wants an experience we categorize as ‘intense’ we have to take special measures to ensure client safety. You understand, of course.” Rounding the corner, Nurse Doc paused briefly, as if checking something in the file, then began again, this time head up, moving briskly down a corridor numbered ‘12’. Christie stopped, then started again as she followed, feeling like a pinball.
“I’ve set up a safety measure in your room. You’ll see it when you’re fully integrated into your vacation. It’s a large, ceramic chess piece, a bishop, set up in the northeast corner of your room. It is the only thing in that corner. If your vacation is too intense, simply knock it over and we will get you out in under sixty seconds. Understood?” Doc had finally come to a stop at number 1256. She slid the key card through the sensor and held open the door while looking her new client fully in the face. Christie, however, had trouble meeting her eyes.
“Yes. I understand, completely. Believe me, I won’t need it.”
“We shall see about that, Miss Smith.” Christie felt belittled under the intensity of woman’s gaze. “Unless you have any other questions, sign here and enjoy your stay at SubmissiveLand.” Christie nodded and signed quickly. This was good for her. She kept telling herself that. She didn’t want to think twice about it and back out.
“It’s the surprise aspect of your stay that worries us, Miss Smith.” The busty Doctor spoke in softer tones now, almost like a friend. “When submissives try things for the first time it can be frightening for them. The ones that panic are the ones that hurt themselves. So, whatever happens to you, remember not to panic and you’ll be fine, right?”
“Right. Thank-you for this. I can’t wait to get started on my vacation.”
“Your vacation will start as soon as you close the door.” Doc managed to smile in a way that looked more like a wince, and marched back down the hall. Christie watched her go long enough until she felt alone. She collected her thoughts with a deep breath, walked into her room, and let the door lick shut behind her.
Most SubmissiveLand lodgings were better thought of as hi-tech holding cells, capable of confining and sustaining those locked within, yet also allowing for constant surveillance by SubmissiveLand staff. The room that Christie walked into was on the small side, and she could see a camera in each corner of the ceiling. Christie sighed in disappointment. She had expected more, and was not looking forward to spending a week in such a boring atmosphere. Although she didn't know it yet, the room was more of an anteroom: the chamber before the main living area. It was completely white with a flat-screen TV of a wall at the far end. In the middle of the room stood a lab table with restraints on it. Before Christie had a chance to inspect the tabletop, a computer generated voice rang out about the room. “Remove all of your clothing.” Christie obediently unbuttoned her short skirt and began to roll down her leggings. There had been no need, apparently, for the stockings, garter belt, and see-thru bra. Sexy underwear was apparently not part of her vacation package. When she had finished and was naked, Christie was instructed to place her clothes and shoes into a strong box that locked itself when closed. The voice thanked her and then gave her step-by-step instructions.
The voice commanded Christie to place a stainless steel collar around her neck. This collar, found on the table with some other restraints, had a leather inseam to keep chaffing down to a minimum, and it had two similarly fashioned steel cuffs hanging from a d-ring on the back with about 6 inches of slack, give or take. The cuffs made that sexy ‘clinking’ sound that always seemed to make Christie’s heart beat faster. There was no padlock to apply. The fitted ends of the collar simply snapped together when enough pressure was applied.
Next came the gag. It was a panel gag. The front was also stainless steel with a 2 cm hole in the front, which would act as her feeding tube during her stay. The tube finished on the inside of the gag, hollowing out the synthetic phallic portion of the device that was to remain in her mouth. It was a harness gag, so the straps above the bridge of her nose blocked her vision to a degree once she buckled it tightly in place. The phallus wasn’t too big, which led Christie to believe that she’d be wearing it for the duration of her stay. Her cheeks flushed as she tightened the buckles a second time. Accept for the fact that it was hollow, the sensation of having a fake penis in her mouth felt more real than she thought it would. The hole in the front allowed her to breath freely, without have to use her nose, and it occurred to Christie that she would soon be drooling from it quite a bit and with no way to stop. Excitement crept down her spine causing her nipples to harden and igniting her sex. The temptation to touch herself was suddenly very strong, but she resisted. She wanted this to happen to her, she kept telling herself.
The last item was the chastity belt to which two ankle cuffs were connected by chains at the front. The slack would not allow Christie to stand once they were locked onto her ankles; the idea being that she would be kept in a submissive posture for the week. Any standing she did would require her to bend her knees sharply. This belt, she observed around her harness, had an anal plug, and a tube of lubrication was conveniently provided.
Christie sighed from around her gag. Truly, she never really got much pleasure from playing with her ass, but she did enjoy having her ass played with. The sensations weren't much of a turn-on for her, but the humiliation certainly was. Applying this particular plug to her body by her own hand was more of an annoyance than anything else, but she had asked for it so she dutifully lubed up the bulbous head of the toy without protest. Her first drips of drool splashed onto her thighs as she knelt on the floor, arching her back in preparation of the moment of insertion.
The voice was patient with Christie while she tried to relax enough to let the plug glide inside of her. It was larger than she had previously experienced, and it took a while. Again, the belt had no buckles, per se. It just clicked shut once she pulled the strap between her legs. “I’m locked in now,” Christie thought to herself. She tried to relax her sphincter with some deep breaths. With the searing pain of insertion waning, she tried to find acceptance of the feeling of fullness inside her that she could no longer expel. There was no corresponding vaginal dildo, and even though she had checked the box that said "Orgasm Denial" when selecting her vacation package, Christie still huffed in disappointment that her sex could not also be filled. Skipping over these misgivings was easily done, however. It was only the first day, after all, and Christie felt confident that there would be plenty of opportunities to come before the end of the week.
Christie promptly followed the voice’s instructions and, sooner than she had anticipated, found herself bound on the floor of the white room, kneeling patiently with her arms lifted behind her back in a semi-reverse prayer. Her ankles were connected to short chains at the front of her belt and she had to shuffle awkwardly just to move a few feet forward. She was excited and nervous. Her bare chest felt so exposed, especially with her arms pinned behind her, causing Christie to thrust her chest forward. As she began to wonder what kind of torments her fellow ferryboat passengers were currently enduring, the wall to the left slid aside revealing Christie’s home for the next week. Relieved she would not be confined to the anteroom any longer, Christie shuffled forward into the larger room.
It was, basically, a large rectangle, white and padded, like the whole thing was made out of sofa cushions. In one corner was what had to be a shower stall. It was a slender plastic tube with a large shower head hanging directly at the top. Another corner revealed a slender silver tube sticking out of the wall about 3 feet high. The adjoining corner also held a silver tube, though it was only 18inches off the ground and stuck out much further. In the last corner was a small table with a chess piece standing on top of it. ‘Not much to look at, really!’ Christie surmised. The ceiling was domed at the far wall where a large, wall-to-wall window provided the only light and a view of the Caribbean skyline. There was plenty of light at the moment, being that it was 11 am on a Saturday in September. She wondered how she would see at night. Christie considered investigating her surroundings further when the voice rang out again.
“Number 4, you will be given an enema every 12 hours. Your first enema begins in 1 hour. You will be cleaned every 12 hours. Your first cleaning will begin in 2 hours. You will be fed every 12 hours. Your first feeding will begin in 3 hours. To begin, attach the chain to the back of your collar.” Christie’s hands were pulled up behind her back, but with a little effort she could still grab hold of the medium weight chain that was lowered to the floor through a panel in the ceiling and attach it to the d ring at the back of her collar. “For your enjoyment, we have provided some entertainment.” Below the large glass window above her, the wall lit up revealing the opening credits to a film. ‘There must be a projector above me somewhere,’ thought Christie.
The film opened with bang. A woman was kneeling in front of a man giving him a blowjob with her hands tied behind her back. The man lazily clicked away at a television with a remote control through about five good minutes of slurping until he finally put it down, grabbed the woman by her hair, and ejaculated into her mouth. ‘They’re making me watch porn?’ thought Christie. ‘I could have done this at home!’
The scene changed and Christie began to get frustrated. A woman was tied just like she was, stainless steel cuffs and all, and getting roughly taken in her ass from behind. It made Christie think about the plug up her own ass. ‘It was much too big for me, really. And I have such an itch between my legs now!’ She shifted uncomfortably and eyed the chess piece in the corner. Looking back to the screen to watch the woman moan through her own panel gag, Christie considered ending her vacation early. ‘I could stop and get a different package!’ She mused. ‘One that lets me come all day.’ She didn’t realize how hot she was getting before, but now she was steaming. She could smell her juices as they oozed around the sides of the belt.
Christie lay down and began to writhe. She closed her eyes and began to daydream about her future Dom. The Dom of her dreams. Would he do this to her? ‘No!’ she thought. He would do it right! Not like this stupid machine voice. A real Dom would get her off! “Mmpphhh!” she complained through her gag, and looked back to the chess piece. She tried composing herself and breathing deeply, but she hated being wet and not touching herself. Christie had been living on her own for several years and was used to instant gratification. Now she wasn’t getting her way. She realized she had made a mistake and asked for too much. Christie whined again and made for the chess piece.
“Dicipline, Number 4!” Christie stopped in her tracks. That wasn’t the computer voice? She looked around and saw, nurse ‘Doc’ through the window above her. Only, she wasn’t dressed as a nurse anymore. Now she was dressed as a school girl, again showing plenty of cleavage and leg. Christie's instinctual reaction to this unanticipated audience was to turn her bare chest away from the Doctor, and try to hide her breasts. She realized this was pointless as soon as she did it, and looked back up to her captor in the window. “This is Dr. Adams. I let you have this vacation package, Number 4, because I believed you when you said you could handle it. Don’t quit now, you’ve only just begun.” Christie felt a little ashamed. Dr. Adams had probably been watching her the whole time. It felt safe. That was good, but it was also embarrassing.
Christie looked back up at the window a second time, but Dr. Adams wasn’t there anymore. Instead there were about 7 people peering down at her, talking back and forth, pointing, and occasionally giggling. Shocked, Christie turned, again, to hide her face, but the opposite wall was no longer there! It had been replaced silently while she had been watching the film and writhing. It was simply a thick glass wall now, with a view to the lounge and bar where her fellow patrons were relaxing with a drink or lunch. Christie spun around as best she could, looking for someone to give her an answer. The chain link of her tether chimed with her distress. Dr. Adams appeared again and spoke into a microphone. “Number 4, you should not be in any way surprised by this! You requested a large amount of humiliation during your stay, did you think we weren’t listening?” Tears began to form at the edges of Christie’s eyes. “It’s alright, child, none of these people know you and they’re all here for the same thing.” Christie realized that Dr. Adams was looking at her from the elevated walkway above the lobby. Dozens of people now were lining up to stare at her. Some of them had finished their vacations and were heading home. Some, Christie could tell, had just walked off the boat and were about to cue up for their own fun. She felt like a living mannequin. Worse than that, she felt like an animal in a zoo. SubmissiveLand had put her into a display case so she could advertise for them! Her cheeks continued to flush as she saw several men in the crowd begin to get hard.
“Cheer up now! It’s time for your first enema. I’ll walk you through it, shall I?” Dr. Adams voice seemed almost chipper. Christie slowly nodded her head and crawled for the silver tube to her left. “No, dear. That’s your feeding tube. You want the other one, behind you, on your right. That’s it! The one right next to the window.” A spotlight had illuminated the lower of the silver tubes. Christie wasn’t sure she could do this. Several men had made their way over to that section of the glass wall near the tube in anticipation of her arrival. The tube was only a couple of feet from the glass. They couldn’t touch her, but they would be very close. She reluctantly made her way over to them. The slack in the ceiling chain provided just enough reach to get her there. “Number 4, as you approach the tube, you will have to back into it and guide it into the hole on the bottom of the chastity belt.” Christie turned around and began to back her rump towards the tube, keeping her face turned away from the glass in embarrassment. Her nostrils flared as she tried to concentrate on her task. “That’s it. Now guide it in.”
It took the distressed damsel a few tries before she found it with her ass. As it mated with the hollow cylinder inside her anal plug, two things happened, one she expected, the other she did not. Once the tube was fully inside her, Christie heard a clicking noise and warm liquid began to fill her bowels. This she expected. She did not expect an electro-magnet to engage that pulled her collar to the padded floor below her face. She was pinned in place, and could not wiggle free. Worse yet, the magnet on her collar seemed to be only on one side, so that her face was forcibly turned toward the crowd.
“Good girl.” Dr. Adams seemed to be in a hurry. It was that or she just moved at a faster pace than Christie was accustomed to. The woman, while patient, wasted no time on sympathy as she pressed forward, explaining to Christie how she was going to spend her hard-earned vacation. “Now, the enema program will run for an hour. When it’s done, your cleaning program begins, followed by your feeding program. If you fail to report to any of these stations within 5 minutes of their start time, you will be punished. Here is a taste of what your punishment will be.” Christie felt a hot burning sensation around her privates and her neck, as she was mildly electrocuted. “ARRGGMPH!” She screamed into her gag and her eyes opened wide. The men jeered and laughed at her. One of them had taken out his penis and was masturbating in front of her. “Enjoy your intestinal cleansing, dear, and I’ll check in on you in a couple of hours.”
Christie had never been so humiliated in her life. Yet despite her embarrassment, and the uncomfortable fullness in her large intestine, she was incredibly horny, and wished she could stimulate herself somehow. She began to writhe on the spot, in spite of herself, and the men continued to jeer and cheer her on.
Christie closed her eyes and fell into a daydream. ‘I do this for you, Master. I deserve to be treated like this. Please use me and make me happy.’ She ground her nipples into the plush material of the floor and panted heavily. The plug in her ass began to vibrate, with strong and weak pulses. “MMPPHH!!” She instinctively pulled at her bonds, in a vain attempt to reach behind her to stop the intruder. She was just beginning to get used to it before this added stimulation, and now the nerve endings in her rectum gave her a fresh reminder of the invasive plug. To her surprise, it actually felt very good, like a massage. While it was different than vaginal stimulation, the thought that the plug gave her pleasure made her feel dirty, and that turned her on even more. Though she couldn’t believe it, she could feel an orgasm building. She only hoped the vibration would get stronger or last long enough to get her off. The pain of having a belly full of water didn’t help any. Alternating waves of pain and pleasure began to wash over her and she began to sweat and whimper. The cramps would force her to intake air sharply through her nose and gag. As she released the air slowly, she would grind her hips as the cramps would subside long enough for her arousal to take over again. This continued for several minutes. She could hear faint hoots from the other side of the glass. Christie blushed deeply and kept her eyes shut.
The disappointment Christie felt when the vibrations stopped made her cry out in frustration behind her sealed mouth. The silver tube then began to suck the water back out of her system. This whole process was repeated two more times before the program came to an end. She felt, at times, that the program was toying with her. The sensations had been intense, yet despite the painful moments, she remained very aroused throughout the entire ordeal. Her collar released once it was finished and she began to stretch her back.
“Number 4. Your first enema is over. Proceed to the sanitation tube.” It was the computer voice again. Dr. Adams hadn’t come back yet. Christie was thankful to be moving away from the window and she looked back in fear. The lounge was completely blocked from her view by all the spectators at the window! There were semen stains on the glass where her face had been and a few feet down there was a couple fucking against the wall. The man had a woman pressed against the glass with her ankles above his shoulders.
Christie tried to speed up to get away from them all and promptly fell over. She could hear more laughter from behind her. She had no idea that getting about while bound in her position would be this difficult. For starters, she could not use her arms or elbows for balance because of the reverse prayer position they were in. She could shuffle on her knees but while this was the safest way to travel, it also seemed to her to be the slowest. By rocking back and forth she could stand, but only at a ‘knees-bent’ position. This was the fastest way for her to travel, but it made her feel ridiculous bobbing from side to side. It also made her clumsy. This is the walk she was attempting to execute when she fell over.
As Christie slowly unwrapped herself from the chain that connected her collar to the ceiling, she noticed the projection again. A woman was suspended at about waist-level, bound in a hogtie by thick leather straps while she was being taken at both ends by large, muscle-bound men. One man was fucking her in the ass and the other was fucking her through a large spider-ring gag. The woman’s large breasts swung back and forth and jiggled each time the man behind her pushed himself all the way into her ass. Christie was fascinated at the conclusion she came to. ‘They’re showing me scenes that remind me of the mess I’m in!’ It wasn’t just porn. They were tormenting her by showing her pictures of herself, being played out by other women. ‘They better not let that bitch come!’ thought Christie as she stopped, rooted to the spot, having completely forgotten about her next assignment or the men behind her. She was about a third of the way to the shower and she probably still had over four minutes to get there.
The man in the film fucking the woman came inside her ass and then moved off camera. The other man continued to hold the woman’s face to his groin, occasionally gagging her on his erection. The first man reappeared with a magic wand and began to rub it against the woman’s clitoris, exposed, as it was, by her suspension bondage. ‘Not fucking fair!’ thought Christie. ‘I want an orgasm too!’ The woman began to moan deeply as the other man came in her mouth, some of it spilling to the ground. The thought of being late for her scheduled shower nibbled at the edge of Christie’s mind. ‘At least three minutes must have gone by,’ she thought, but she really wanted to see if they would let the woman come. “MMMMpphhhh.” Christie whined slowly into her gag. ‘Hurry up, please!’ The moaning from the film was especially loud. Somewhere in Christie’s self-imposed prison was a powerful sound system.
The wails from the film tormented Christie as the woman on the screen came violently, with eyes rolled back into her skull, twisting and straining in her leather bonds while a large amount of liquid spilled out of her pussy onto the ground. Christie pulled at her bonds too. “I want out!” she screamed, though it sounded more like, “Mmmph mwa Mphmm!” Her eyes searched the windows desperately for Dr. Adams, but found nothing but several horny men ogling her exposed chest. To say that Christie was hornier than she had ever been in her life would have been an understatement. She needed to come, immediately. Just as she was about to sit and down to grind her ass on the floor in a vain effort to wriggle her anal plug, Christie was painfully shocked by her collar. “MMPPH!” She screamed. Her time was up. The shower was calling.
Christie put her head down and made for the shower as quickly as possible, but she hadn’t made much progress when she received a shock from her anal plug. “MMPPHH!” It was very painful and it caused her to lose her balance. She fell and got tangled up again in the chain that attached her collar to the ceiling. By the time she finally reached the shower she had been shocked 3 more times, all three coming from both her collar and belt. Waves of humiliation spread across her fair cheeks as she realized what it must have looked like to the crowd outside her prison, when she was shocked again. ‘WTF!’ She thought. She looked around the stall and finally found the start button, large and red, right in front of her. It would have been obvious had not the shocks been so insistent on impeding her progress and breaking her concentration.
After she pressed the button with her forehead, the door closed from the bottom up, conveniently lifting the collar chain above her. There was a catch on it, and Christie soon found herself painfully pulled up into an erect posture. She couldn’t kneel, but had to stay balanced on the balls of her feet to prevent any choking. Gentle jets of warm water shot out at her from all sides. It felt good and would have been relaxing but for the strenuous position she was in. “Number 4,” bellowed the computerized voice. “You are required to urinate at this time. You must empty your bladder completely every twelve hours during your cleaning. Failure to do so will result in punishment.” Christie could easily imagine what that might be as she relieved herself. She certainly didn’t want any more shocks, and she silently feared what other punishments they could conceive of.
As she was being sprayed, Christie silently marveled at the level of control this room had over her. It seemed as if her every move was anticipated. She was told what to do and when and for how long. She supposed that once she got the hang of it, it would be easy, except of course that she couldn’t come. The thought of a whole week without release was one thing, but to be bound the way she was, stimulated in her ass, and forced to watch other women come was especially torturous. Why hadn’t she asked for some sort of relief in her vacation package? It was too late now.
The chain holding her upright released a bit and Christie slumped down to a kneeling position. It had only been ten minutes and as she pondered what was next, jets of steam plumed into the chamber. Her shower became a miniature sauna and Christie began to sweat again. 15 minutes later, the steam stopped and she was flooded with the water again. The next time the water stopped, Christie expected more steam, but instead got jets of ice cold water. The water streams were small and powerful, stinging her nipples and belly as the chain pulled her taut again. “MARRGH!” Christie repeatedly wailed into her gag and twisted violently, vainly attempting to shield her sensitive areas. As the minutes ticked by, her legs began to tire. The pull of her collar was a powerful incentive to stay upright, but Christie found herself needing to take short breaks to rest her legs every other minute, letting herself choke for a few seconds at a time.
The first few times this happened she harbored some concerns that this necessary asphyxiation was an unintended byproduct of the severity of the program and that she might be in real danger. When it occurred to her, however, that the asphyxiation might be caused on purpose, Christie felt her clit harden in response. Once again the SubmissiveLand vacation package she had paid for was controlling her in a way that was unexpected and humiliating. As the program rolled on she soon lost all control of her tired legs and the chain asphyxiated her as it wished, but no more than 30 seconds at a time, or so it seemed. Her struggle to stay conscious caused her to lose all focus in avoiding the painful jets of cold water. That she just had to endure; breathing was a higher priority. She was shivering when the water finally stopped and the chain provided her some slack. Hot air blowers warmed her body, including her now chilly, erect nipples, for a few minutes before the tube door finally lowered and she was free of the device.
When Christie finished her shower she ignored the pornographic projection and quickly made her way to the feeding tube, which was also positioned directly in front of the window to the lounge but in the opposite corner. Christie considered herself a quick study and refused to be distracted a second time. Several men and women were waiting for her with smiles on their faces. ‘Doc must’ve let everyone know what my schedule is,’ she mused. ‘It’s probably posted right outside my cell.’ When she got there she saw the lovely Dr. Adams waiting for her as well, holding up a microphone.
“You’ve done well, number 4.” Praised the Doctor. “I’ve returned to walk you through the last of your routine: feeding. It’s not as simple as it sounds. This tube must supply you with food on a scheduled basis, but it must also supply you with water at any and all times. Go ahead. Guide the tube into your gag and we’ll begin.” Christie scowled at Dr. Adams and shook her head. She then turned slightly so the Dr. could see her hands and pointed to the chess piece at the other end of her prison. Dr. Adams sighed impatiently into the microphone. “Discipline, number 4. Your vacation is only 3 hours old. I will not hold your hand for the whole week!” She said sternly. “You must give me your very best effort!” Christie continued to stare at the Doctor as she moved to the feeding tube, which made a familiar clicking noise as it became locked in place. “Besides,” continued Dr. Adams, “the chess piece was only to be provided as a safety measure until the first cycle was completed. Now that you are locked into your first feeding, that safety precaution can be removed.” As she said this the Doctor took a remote control out of her pocket and clicked a button on it. Christie, to her surprise and horror, could see the table with the bishop on it sink through a trap door in the padded floor. She began to cry and returned her panicked eyes to the Doctor. “It’s alright, number 4. You can cry if you want to. We all know this is what you really want. If you knew you had really made a mistake, you would have knocked the piece over immediately after your enema or your shower, isn’t that right? Besides, should you have a medical emergency, our attentive staff will be able to intervene and reinstate the appropriate safeguards. Now you can relish in the thought that you no longer have a choice. Rejoice in the delights of submissive expression. We’re all certainly enjoying it out here!”
‘My God! What a cruel woman!’ Thought Christie. ‘She knows I’m suffering! I’ll never make it a whole week!’
“Just remember, you did it all to yourself.” Dr. Adams seemed to be able to read her thoughts. “Now, let’s get started, shall we?
“Nothing will happen with the feeding tube without your participation. The tube is designed to mimic the physical response of a man’s penis to oral stimulation. To be hydrated you must suck the penis gag in your mouth very hard. You can feel the gag in your mouth, yes?” Christie tried to nod her head, but couldn’t. The height that the tube was placed required her to kneel but also to keep her head held fairly high. Despite the length of the protrusion from the wall, it did not bend easily. “Give me a ‘thumbs up’ when you manage it,” responded the Doctor to her queried looks. Christie sucked on her gag, lightly at first, and got nothing. She shuffled her legs a bit, got some more leverage, and sucked harder. What seemed like mere drops of water splashed against the back of her throat. She greedily swallowed them down, as her enema and her shower had caused her to sweat a great deal and she realized she was quite thirsty. She then sucked as hard as she could and was rewarded with a fair amount of water, about a half an ounce. Christie, relieved at her ability to master the hydration process, gave the ‘thumbs up’ sign with both hands.
“Excellent! See? I knew you could do it. Now, in order to be fed you must mimic the motions of oral sex. Sliding your mouth back and forth along the shaft for a sustained period of 5 minutes will get you a ‘reward’ of food. No single ‘reward’ can complete the process. Your calories have been counted, number 4, and you must achieve 5 ‘rewards’ to end the feeding program and release your gag from the tube. This is why the feeding program is last on your schedule. It can be accomplished in as little as 25 minutes, but it is quite probable that it will take you longer than that. Why don’t you give it a try while I check on some of my other clients. See you in five!” The Doctor gave her a devilish smile as she turned to go. Christie began her feeding process.
The penis gag in her mouth wasn’t completely in a fixed position, Christie discovered; at least not while it was connected to the feeding tube. While connected, she found that by moving her head back she could pull the shaft of the gag mostly out of her mouth, almost past her teeth. The base of the phallic gag connected to the feeding tube, and that was stationary. While Christie could not pull away from the tube completely, she could pull away enough so that only the head of the penis gag remained in her mouth. Moving forward pushed it back into its pre-feeding tube position. This allowed her to slide the shaft over her tongue, as if it were a real penis, when it was connected to the wall. ‘Yet another devious device designed to humiliate and frustrate me!’ thought Christie.
She began to bob her head along the shaft in earnest. While she could not turn her head to look at or away from them, Christie’s peripheral vision told her that she had quite an audience on the other side of the glass again. Her face reddened and she closed her eyes. She tried to imagine that the gag in her mouth was a real man’s cock. Not just any man’s, she thought, but her Master’s. She dreamed it was her true love’s penis she was slurping on, and not some heartless machine’s. Christie didn’t just glide her head along the shaft anymore. She lovingly caressed it with her tongue and lips. At times she would tease it with her teeth a little bit. At other times she would violently suck on it while twisting her mouth around it. Sucking with a purpose, one might say.
In what seemed like very little time, the phallus in Christie's mouth began to harden and enlarge slightly, and she found her head was locked in place once more. She could no longer bob as the phallus pulsed and a salty, thick liquid shot out the end of the gag, hitting the back of her throat. Christie swished it around a bit to taste it. It tasted exactly like sperm!
“Mmmpprr!” Christie’s eyes flew open and she tried to shake her head, to no avail.
“Delightful, isn’t it number 4?” Doctor Adams had returned and was speaking to her through the microphone again. “Yes. We designed it that way. No, it’s not real sperm, although that would be a lot of fun. It’s a simple soy mixture of liquefied vitamins, protein, carbs, and salt. You’ll need the salt anyway because you’ll be sweating so much, by the by. 5 servings every 12 hours will keep you healthy and strong, that’s not to mention the wonders it will do for your hair and nails!” Christie’s humiliation had advanced to yet another level, something she had not realized was possible. “Only 4 more ‘rewards’ to go. Just keep it up and your gag will be released in no time. Now, I hate to break it to you, number 4, but this is the last time I’ll be addressing you directly. I have some more clients coming in and then my workday will be at an end. Do enjoy your stay here at SubmissiveLand. Don’t worry about a thing, dear. We’ll take care of you.”
While she didn’t much like the way Dr. Adams had talked her out of using her safety measure, Christie, despite herself, felt a certain sense of loss at this little announcement. While she had not been a friend, Dr. Adams had at least been a human contact that she could see and communicate with. Now Christie was left with ‘the Voice’, and she surmised that it would probably only speak to her when she was bad. She did not panic, but she did despair a little. Alice had made this place seem so magical. It was, a little, Christie had to admit. They were doing things here she had only dreamt of. But she just felt she wasn’t ready for this level of control. Knowing she no longer had a choice, Christie was relieved of at least one thing. She had endured everything the room would throw at her, and she was still kicking. She was as horny as ever, but she was not damaged at least. Just hot and helpless. She shuffled her knees again and returned to sucking at her feeding tube.
The penis gag shot another load down her throat, while Christie’s asshole twitched around her anal plug. Three more just like that and her neck felt a little sore, while her pussy felt primed and ready for action. She took regular breaks to rest her tongue and there were a few failed attempts in between rewards, so Christie’s total feeding period lasted just under an hour. She had more success, she found, when her faux cock-sucking fell into a steady rhythm, signified by the gentle clinking of chain from the shiny, steel tether that was locked to the back of her collar. Christie loved the sound of clinking chain, so it was a comfort to her throughout the degrading experience. Closing her eyes to the crowd throughout, and the invasive presence up her backside, Christie had ample time to consider her bondage. SubmissiveLand was so real! They had truly made her feel like a prisoner in her white, cushioned cell. She marveled at how durable and restrictive her cuffs were. The plug had her constant attention. Christie longed to pull on it and twist it around. Anal plugs could be fun, she knew, but without any friction or vibration they were just sort of there, keeping her on edge and horny with no payoff. The thought that she was powerless to remove it only intensified her shame and arousal.
Christie expected the gag to release when she finished swallowing the last reward but it didn’t. “Have I miscounted?” She thought. The voice answered her question.
“Number 4, you have now completed your first cycle. You have 11 cycles remaining. The next cycle will begin in exactly 8 hours and 54 minutes. You may hydrate at any time other than during a cycle. The last installment of your vacation package is descending from the ceiling now.” Christie was shocked to see a huge mirror fall into place over each of the walls to her left and right. She would now have to examine her bondage up close, whether she wanted to or not.
She felt completely surrounded now. One wall was nothing more than a window to the lounge, allowing complete strangers to visually participate in her confinement. Another wall was filled up by the never-ending porno that kept showing other bound women as they orgasm. Now the remaining walls at the opposite ends of her rectangular prison would display her own reflection, constantly bound and frustrated. The gag released when the mirrors were in place and Christie was ‘free’, more or less.
The first thing Christie did was back away from the window. She wanted to go to a mirror but the embarrassment she had suffered thus far had traumatized her a bit. She wanted nothing to do with either of those tubes for a long while. What she really wanted was a few moments to sit still and think. She backed into the corner where the chesspiece had been, leaned up against it and shut her eyes. Christie took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind, despite the muffled cries of bound ecstasy flooding the room. She silently took stock of her situation.
The cuffs on Christie's wrists and ankles were tight, but not enough to cut off circulation. Her knees and elbows were beginning to ache slightly in their perpetually bent position, and she wondered if she’d be allowed to stretch out at all during her stay. The gag in her mouth was not too big and she was grateful for this. Christie knew how painful prolonged gag use could be, especially if the gag was large. This one wasn’t, but the symbolism was not lost on her. Christie had a penis strapped inside her mouth for a week. It would not come out and she could feel the head, shaft, and cosmetically added veins of it with her tongue. It was an intimate companion that she would have to get used to. The chastity belt was tightly strapped to her body. All vaginal sensation was lost to her, which contrasted greatly with the sensation of a large plug in her ass. She’d never been filled so fully there and it was still moderately uncomfortable. Christie knew that her body could take it, but she also knew that it would be a constant, and humiliating, reminder of her submission which, despite the fact that it was no longer consensual, was still her own doing. ‘I’m fucking paying them to treat me this way!’ as Christie mentally retraced the steps to how she had gotten into such a rotten mess.
Lastly, Christie’s thoughts lingered on the fact that anyone in the lounge or walking in the lobby could see her, and that she could see herself, something she hadn’t counted on. She looked up and took in her appearance in the mirror. ‘Helpless’ was the only adjective that came to mind. She felt like a slave in a cage. If she only had a master to share her submission with, she could manage it all, she believed. That was it, she determined. To survive, Christie would have to withdraw into a fantasy in which all of her suffering was for a loving master. “I’ll do this for you, my love,” she thought “because you have determined that I deserve it.” Content with this idea she crawled, twitching with arousal, to the middle of the room to continue watching the film.
Young woman after young woman was used sexually and made to orgasm, screaming through various types of gags. “Jesus!” Thought Christie. “I’ve never tried that one before!” Her pussy began to leak again. Each squealing female made her think of her own orgasm that she couldn’t have. She knew this was the point, but she didn’t care. Besides, there was nothing else to do in her elegant, white, cushioned cell. Christie lay down on her stomach and began to writhe. She closed her eyes and imagined that the fullness in her ass was her master’s cock. ‘Please, sir. I’m a good slave!’ She rolled onto her side, pulled at her bonds, squeezed her legs together and whimpered. This continued for almost an hour, but it only led to more and more frustration. When Christie could smell her own scent, she sat up and tried to shake off her arousal. Then she wandered over to the mirror.
When confronted with a mirror the natural inclination for most people is to start by looking themselves in the eye. Christie wanted to do no such thing. She was humiliated by her situation and knew she’d only see guilt and shame by looking into her own eyes. She did, however, steal glances at the adornments which entrapped her body. Bondage gear had always excited her. Sometimes, late at night when she was alone in her apartment, she would unload her collection of toys from her closet and do nothing more than place them on the bed to admire them. Whenever she saw handcuffs on tv she would feel butterflies play with her insides. She once had to go to the county jail to bail out her brother on an MIP charge. When he asked her why she was so flushed on the way home she merely mumbled that the police station intimidated her. That was true, but the real reason she was flushed was because she had seen a young woman being escorted down the hall by two bailiffs with her hands and feet shackled. At the time a dark place inside her had wanted to trade places with the girl.
Examining her adornments in front of the SubmissiveLand mirror, Christie was struck by the high gloss emanating from her collar and chastity belt. She had to hand it to SubmissiveLand; they didn’t cut corners with cheap equipment. The belt fit her like a glove, firm and controlling, but also loving and comfortable, so long as she didn’t twist or contort her torso too much. The long chain that connected her collar to the ceiling also shined with vigor as it dangled from her neck. She felt an uncontrollable urge to pick it up and wrap it around her fingers. Her body looked good . . . really good. The position her arms were in forced her to thrust her chest forward, displaying her youthful breasts with pride. She was at least comforted that her toned legs and firm tummy were pleasing to look at. None of the other patrons could touch her behind the glass, but she was hopeful that they all thought of her as an attractive little slave. Christie was still fairly young, not long removed from an associate’s degree, and her ass and breasts were still brimming with baby fat. Nothing sagged, yet.
Christie shuffled ever so closer to the mirror and mustered the courage to look at her face. Her eyes were pleading with desire. She had gone heavy on the eyeliner that morning, trying to perfect a look that said “elegant but playful”. “Desperate and slutty” was the message being conveyed, however. Smeared makeup and tear stains down her cheeks had not been part of her original plan, and the shock of her face in such a state of degradation caused her to gasp.
The thick band of steel covering her mouth instilled her with an overwhelming sensation of control. Christie had always enjoyed gags in her private life. She didn’t have one like this, however. This one covered her entire mouth. It demanded silence from her. It was one thing to be restrained by cuff and collar, but to have her voice taken from her as well pushed the objectification to another level, dehumanizing her more than she had previously known. It was almost magical.
Christie bowed her head with shame and submission. She arched her back and clenched her ass. She ached for something, anything, to touch her pussy. A thought crossed her mind. She really, really liked the bondage gear she had on. If she had seen another girl wearing it, like Alice perhaps, she would have felt jealous and wanted to try it on herself. It was true that she wanted an orgasm, and that need had her flustered and panicked, but such strict control was something she had always fantasized about. Most days she felt she needed it. At times late at night after fingering herself into exhaustion, she actually knew she needed it. Christie needed control. The harsher the better. Complete surrender was her fantasy. She was now living it. It frightened her but it also made her hips grind. She pulled on her cuffs again, but only to feel the corresponding pull on her collar and the strictness of her bondage.
A smattering of laughter caught Christie’s attention and she realized that she was humping the air while trying to choke herself. Several SubmissiveLand guests were pointing and laughing at her from their barstools. The renewed shame of her predicament sent shivers of excitement into her clit and nipples. Complete strangers were laughing at her. She had no idea why, but that got her soooo hot. It was humiliating, of course, but it also aroused her even more. Christie flopped onto her side and continued her useless gyrations. With longing she sucked on the rubber cock in her mouth as she fantasized about thrusting it into her sex. It was useless but she couldn’t stop herself. She spent the next two hours humping the floor fully engrossed in a fantasy that involved a very large, ribbed cock being forced inside her tight, contracting pussy over and over, as she continued to suck at the phallus in her mouth and flex her sphincter around the plug in her ass. For a few fleeting moments, Christie actually thought she might come. She sobbed and whimpered when she realized it wouldn’t happen.
After another good cry, Christie grunted in frustration and tried to concentrate on something else. She considered trying to get some sleep, but it was the middle of the day and, despite her exertions, she wasn’t sleepy at all. She passed the time by pretending to be the various girls on the screen, and that the men using them were really her master(s) using her. Over time she allowed herself to steal away peaks at the lounge window. To her surprise, not many people paid any attention to her. They simply went about their business, sipping beer or having lunch and talking amongst themselves. Her reflection in the mirror wasn’t that stimulating either, aside from being sexually stimulating that is.
Christie’s life fell into a predictable routine from that point on. She was ‘wet’ all the time now. She avoided any more shocks from her collar or plug, painful as they were. After her second cycle, two attendants entered the room and released her wrists and ankles, only to quickly secure them to anchors in the walls. This answered her concerns about joint aches and muscle soreness. Every 24 hours she was “stretched” in this way for an hour, and her belt was re-lined with baby powder, forcibly. The attendants had also been encouraged, apparently, to grope and squeeze her breasts, as they certainly didn’t try to hide it from the patrons behind the window. ‘Surprise was a vacation option I had chosen,’ thought Christie. Of course, she never imagined that surprise meant that complete strangers would get to watch her helplessly bound form be abused by other complete strangers. ‘Such is the submissive’s life,’ she would later reflect. The jolt of sexual electricity that rifled through her body as her nipples were pinched made her squeak with delight. She begged for them not to stop but her pleas just came out as nonsensical mumbles, barely even audible. The attendants treated her like thing, not a person.
Her stretching periods were particularly humiliating because, during those times, the projection on her wall would replay a tape of Christie, herself. SubmissiveLand had apparently filmed Christie as she had put on her restraints and chastity belt in the anteroom at the beginning of her vacation without her knowledge. It was then that the true purpose of those four cameras in the anteroom became clear to Christie. SubmissiveLand had taken the playback from all four cameras and edited them together to make a little porno just for her. No matter which direction she had been facing at the time she put her bondage on, SubmissiveLand got a good shot from its cameras, whether that shot was of Christie’s face or her privates. She was forced to watch herself fill her mouth and ass and restrain her neck, arms and ankles, and she blushed with shame in the knowledge that others got to see her do all of it to herself as well. The peak of this embarrassment was the expression on Christie's face that the High-Def video had captured as she inserted the anal plug. It had been a private moment of Christie’s that was now being shared with the entire SubmissiveLand complex, patron and employee alike. Her expression seemed to indicate sharp pain, with a tiny gasp of pleasure at the moment of full insertion, something Christie, certainly, had never intended to share with anyone. Reliving this moment with the public at large for seven straight days changed Christie's personal definition of shame, which she was quickly learning to accept as a constant during her vacation.
Between re-occurring fits of sexual frustration that had her rolling on the floor covered in sweat, Christie quickly learned to enjoy watching the crowd and see who was watching her. It made sense as there was little else to occupy her mind, other than the never-ending porno. About mid-week she mustered the courage to go up to the window and interact with some of the other clients. While it was embarrassing, she discovered that most of them weren’t so bad. Some of them showed genuine sympathy for her. At the beginning, Christie could not have imagined that two days before her release she would be pressing her bare chest up against the glass, writhing in front of the crowd. Faces came and went, and while the shame that she had first felt when she saw them remained, she could no longer deny that it turned her on. And in the end that was really the only thing that she focused on: how to get closer to that elevated state of sexual release. If acting like a dirty slut in front of a stranger, or a crowd of strangers, got her closer to getting off, she was compelled to do it.
There is a good reason why extended time in solitary is considered torture. Christie's most difficult challenge, when she wasn't humping the floor, was overcoming the oppressive amount of boredom that came from a scenario such as hers. The people in the window were a pleasant enough distraction, but because her communication was so limited with those strangers, Christie began having the same types of interactions with them over and over again. Everyone would look at least once, but after that Christie was mostly ignored. Those that did stare didn't bother trying to make eye contact, or signal to her in some way. They either laughed at her plight or used her as visual stimulation to aid in some other, personalized, sexual act, like jerking off or making out with a partner.
It made Christie feel even more objectified, like she was a pet in a shopkeeper's window. Not only was her flesh exposed, but her soul as well. Anyone could clearly see what she tried so hard so long to hide; that she was a toy, that she was worthless but for her material value, less than human, even, and, most importantly, that she loved every second of it . . . except, that is, when the boredom began to bear down on her.
Christie's vacation package was designed to constrain and stimulate only the most experienced submissives. It was an intense program that forced the participant to get very, very close to the realism of sexual slavery. Christie had lied on her application for this package, and if she wasn't an expert in submission before beginning her vacation, she would be by the end of it. As designed, the only escape from the boredom was to succumb to sustained, intense arousal with no hope of gratification for nearly all of her waking moments.
After the first day, the voice stopped speaking to her. Christie stopped thinking in words a few days after that, instead beginning to think in images and sensations. The arousal would not allow her concentrate for very long on any particular subject. It only took a few days for her to forget how many cycles she had completed. The thought that her enslavement was limited, but indefinite, struck a chord inside her, and Christie willingly let her mind slip into fantasy for longer and longer periods of time. Words were not a part of this fantasy, so she let them go.
Being thirsty meant she had to suck. Entering the shower meant she was supposed to urinate, yet no words accompanied these actions, only the sensations associated with them. Language became something foreign to Christie over time and eventually the only thing she understood was to submit. She didn’t get overly happy or sad. She simply watched the screen, watched the strangers, watched herself, writhed in sexual frustration, fed and watered herself, endured her enemas and showers, and grunted along the way. Her educated mind, which had protested so vehemently in the beginning, became passive, while her primal, sexual self flourished and prospered. The degradation, and her resulting arousal, was Christie’s only defense to the monotony of solitary. She longed for someone, anyone, to enter her cage and use her. Coming would have been fantastic but Christie would have been more than pleased to simply service someone, in any way he or she wished. Her vacation had been an education in submission. Christie now yearned to serve, if only to do nothing more than break up the monotony. She began to look forward to her enemas, showers, and feedings. The sensations were often intense, but they were a welcome relief compared to the constant arousal she could not escape from. The level of that arousal seemed to have an ebb and flow to it. At times Christie felt she had mastered it and herself. At other times she was in near hysterics: tears streaming down her face as she fluttered about the room, desperately searching for a way to get off.
Being choked in the shower always got Christie excited, the same way writhing in pain from her enemas got her excited. Suffocation and pain weren’t that sexually stimulating to her, on their own, but enduring such tortures in front of others certainly was. Christie was being controlled, which is what she wanted; but she was also being controlled in front of an audience, which she previously hadn’t known she wanted. Her shame and her arousal played on her mind and body in concert with each other, in stereo. Christie had labored through nearly all the stages of grief at her plight. Disbelief, denial, anger, etc. As she entered the stage of acceptance, a chrysalis occurred, and a perfectionistic submissive grew and blossomed in place of the quiet, introverted office girl. That submissive was ready and willing to engage in any sexual act, no matter how lurid. All she was waiting for was permission.
Nearing the end Christie realized she really was enjoying herself, despite that constant arousal. Her mind flirted with the possibility of spending the rest of her life in the cell, bound and filled exactly the way she was. The thought excited her, although she knew she would never seriously consider it if she didn’t have a Master to unbelt and fuck her every once in a while. She liked feeling like a toy. She would be a good slave, she concluded. Perhaps she would get the chance someday soon.
Waking up repeatedly in her bound position was an effective means of adjustment training, in Christie's opinion. The violation of having her mouth and ass constantly filled with no relief forced her to recognize and accept her situation anew after each nap, or surrender, again, to fruitless hysterics every time she came to. The sooner Christie could pacify her mind and accept her place in the world, the easier it was for her to emotionally handle. It was very effective conditioning. The lack of mental or social stimuli slowed her mental process at times, reinforcing the concept that she had reduced status in her cell to that of an animal in heat. Many times a day she would catch herself staring vacantly off into space, coming to without realizing what she had been thinking about, or for how long. She only knew she was horny, always. These bouts of self-awareness were frequent at first, but fleeting over time. Despite the aches and pains, the choking, the humiliation, the perpetual feeling of helplessness and the constant arousal, in the end one final thought kept rounding on Christie’s mind, justifying the experience: she liked it.
Christie came to realize that life in her SubmissiveLand prison was just a simplified version of her life before: she did work, felt horny, and tried to pass the time somehow. If she had had something to do in her cell, like read a book or watch a movie, she was quite certain that she would rather spend that time watching the people in the lounge and interacting with them in some way instead. It was human contact she craved and acceptance from others about who she was. A fulfilling life for her was impossible if she could not please someone and be pleased in turn by that person. Christie had come to SubmissiveLand to prove to herself, and to some imaginary master that existed only in her mind, that she was capable of strict, 24/7 submission. But it seemed so fruitless each time she remembered that her ‘master’ didn’t really exist. So why was she there? ‘I’ve got to find my master.’ She thought to herself, one day in the shower tube between shrieks from the cold, stinging water.
Christie’s hellish vacation was finally coming to an end. The voice had broken its silence as she began her last cycle, informing her that she was about to receive her last prepaid cleanings and feeding. In total she had endured 14 hour-long enemas, 14 forced showers, and 14 cock-sucking feedings, all without coming once! She only had one more “reward” from the feeding program to go and she sucked like a pro, more enthusiastic than ever. The process ended and her gag was released. As she swished the last remnants of soy sperm zealously around her gag, Christie searched the crowd, breathless and expectant, and finally found Dr. Adams at the above window, holding a microphone. “Well done, number 4. I knew you could do it. You should be proud of yourself. I know you’re anticipating release from your vacation, and then a little sexual release perhaps, but before we let you go we wanted to let you know that you have a phone call.” Christie was perturbed by this little bit of news. Who would call her here? Did Alice have an important message for her? “Actually it’s more like a video conference, number 4. Here, I’ll put it up on the projection screen for you.”
Dr. Adams then pressed a button on her remote and the x-rated projection that had become such a constant in Christie’s life was replaced by an image of none other than her boss, Mr. Sticklin, sitting at his familiar desk back at the office. It did not occur to Christie that he could see her, until he looked up from some papers and began speaking to her.
“Ah. There you are. Have you had a good vacation?” Christie screamed in shock and embarrassment, and slid about the floor, frantically trying to find something to hide behind. Of course she found nothing. “It’s alright Christie. I know all about SubmissiveLand. Hell! Who do you think suggested it to Alice? Speaking of which, come over here, Alice.” Christie stopped her frantic movements and looked up at the picture. Alice stepped into view, but she was bound and gagged! Her arms were held behind her with an armbinder and her mouth was stretched wide with a spider-ring gag. “Kneel.” Mr. Sticklin commanded her. Alice paused briefly to wink at Christie and then carefully dropped to her knees and disappeared from view behind Sticklin’s desk. “You know what to do.” Mr. Sticklin shuffled in his chair and took a deep breath. It was not hard to imagine Alice wrapping her lips around his penis at that moment. He finally looked up again. “Well, here it is, Christie. I mean to make you a proposal. I’d like to offer you a promotion to executive assistant, just like Alice here. It will require you to serve my business and personal needs both here at the office and at my residence. It pays a lot better than your old position and there are increased benefits as well, like a company car and, er, other privileges. Alice, here, accepted after she confided to me her submissive preferences. In fact, her first assignment was to scout out other employees with similar preferences. I must say I was overjoyed to find you so similarly inclined. An opportunity like this doesn’t come along every day, so I want you to think about it seriously before answering. Additionally, you will also have to prove yourself before I promote you. I’ve spoken with Dr. Adams and it’s all paid for. If you want to accept the promotion you must spend another week in your cell there at SubmissiveLand. I know, I know. This last week was hard for you. All I can say is that it takes hard work to get what we really want in life, whatever that may be. You want a master, and I am one. If you want to serve me, you’ll have to prove it. What do you say?”
Christie couldn’t believe her ears, or her eyes. True, Sticklin was an older man, but he was not ancient. He was at least 40, but he was in great shape, and she had always found him attractive. He was also quite wealthy and used to getting his way. She wanted to accept, but she needed an orgasm more than anything. She had worked so hard! She tried to communicate her need by thrusting her hips up at the projection, “mrrpph?”
“No. I’m sorry, Christie. If you want this promotion, you must prove your worth to me, and deny yourself for another week. I know you’re frustrated, but you can do it.” Christie bowed her head and pulled defiantly at her bonds. Wasn’t this what she was really seeking? Why did it have to be this hard? Ultimately, she did want a master and she believed Sticklin could be the one for her. She looked up at the screen and nodded, once, with conviction.
“Excellent. Then it’s all settled. There’s just one more thing,” said Sticklin as the door opened and two attendants walked in and made their way toward Christie, unlocking her belt and holding her down. “I’ve asked that the team down there at SubmissiveLand make this next week a bit more interesting for you.” Christie gasped as a studded dildo was forced inside her perpetually wet pussy. “They’re going to make sure that you’re stimulated, but that you don’t come. You understand, don’t you? I’ve got to test your limits. The good news is that there’s really not much you have to do, other than keep your sanity. Just remember, you’re doing it for me now. See you in a week.” He smiled as his image was replaced by the familiar pornography.
The attendants locked the belt back on, affixed Christie into the “stretched” position, and exited the room, not before squeezing her breasts and firmly pinching her nipples. “MMMMRRRRPPPPPHHHHH!” Christie was in tears. She couldn’t believe she had agreed to another week of this! The voice began to speak to her again. “Number 4, your next cycle will begin in exactly 8 hours and 21 minutes. You have 14 cycles remaining.” But Christie wasn’t listening. The dildo had begun to vibrate inside her and her arousal had risen insanely fast, due to her long period of denial. Yet right when she was about to crest, it stopped, leaving Christie helpless to get off and helpless to its torments. She felt the edges of her sanity begin to crumble as she repeatedly cried out in tearful, sexual frustration.
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