Undercover Slave Girl

by Argus

  Her arms had been strapped tightly together behind her back, then a sort of leather sleeve slipped over them. She felt further straps tightening her arms on the outside of the sleeve until there was no possibility of moving them whatever.

  She was lifted out of the seat, and pulled forward by the leash attached to her belt. Someone lifted her down stairs, and then she walked until someone bent and pushed her down and into a car. She sat there silently as the car drove wherever it was going. Then she was once again pulled out and led forward by the line attached to her waist.

  Someone lifted her up onto his shoulders and then carried her up a flight of stairs, then another, and she was set down on a wooden floor. She was pushed down onto her bottom, then onto her back. Then she felt her ankles lifting up, pulled by the restraints around them, pulled higher and higher until she was, as she had been before, hanging upside down.

  It was very hot here, wherever here was.

  And the PVC suit certainly didn't help. She was soon swimming in sweat, stewing within the leather suit. She was left to hang for some uncertain period, during which her mind faded in and out, drained by the heat. She had no idea how much time had passed before her gag was removed, but then she felt a familiar buzzing against her body, against her still exposed clitoris.

  She moaned dazedly, and her mouth opened slightly, instinctively. Something pushed into it, something round and slick, and coated with liquid, and she sucked unconsciously. Every time she felt the buzzing vibrations against her pussy she knew the liquid would come, and opened her mouth, sucking feverishly on whatever was placed within.

  Her body was repositioned, but the heat continued to make her head throb and her body bake. Sometimes the buzzing came first, and sometime she simply felt something against her lips. Something warm and wet which caused her to immediately open her mouth in welcome.

  When the blindfold was removed she saw, of course, that it was a cock, or at least, a reasonable resemblance to one. That wasn't a surprise. She had known it all along. But somehow, just the sight of it roused her every time it appeared, roused her interest, her energy, her anticipation for relief. The buzzing against her pussy was really not relevant to her, though it did feel good. The only real feeling which her mind could focus on, however, was thirst.

  It was too dark to see much of anything else, or to care about much of anything else. Thirst occupied her full attention when her mind was awake, and the rest of the time, her mind floated weakly, unthinking.

  * * *

  Hannah woke in bed, as she had before. She was spreadeagled and bound as before. The room was cool and the bed soft, as before. Something moved above her, and her eyes fluttered as hands tilted her head slowly back.

  She saw it then, a cock, semi hard, dangling over her face. A wave of anticipation swept her and she opened her lips, tilting her head further as the cock slid down into her mouth. It hardened almost at once, and she moaned as she sucked and licked at it while the cock moved slowly in and out. She felt the familiar buzzing between her legs, felt something solid inside her, and something vibrating against her, but paid them little heed at first.

  It truly was a beautiful cock, and it felt so good in her mouth, and so satisfying. She felt her head tilted further and the cock, now slick, pushed into her throat. She barely gagged, moaning with further pleasure as she felt it sliding down her throat.

  Hands caressed her breasts and fingers lightly pinched and rolled her nipples as the cock began to slowly move in and out. It used its full length, pumping up and down inside her mouth and throat. Hannah lay still, enjoying the sensation, moaning softly around it as the buzzing between her legs grew, and sensation rippled through her belly and up into her chest.

  * * *

  The pleasure came immediately after the pain.

  The pain wasn't very painful, of course, just a stinging sensation and a heat in her breasts as the thin flog cut across her taut flesh.

  Hannah was dazedly aroused. She stood, back against a polished vertical post. The top of the post was horizontal, and her arms had been drawn back over the top, then down, to fasten to the side of the vertical beam. Between her legs was a rounded ball which began to vibrate an instant after the laces cut across her breasts or belly, and heat filled her.

  Her mind bathed in sensation, all of it heightened, and she moaned dazedly as pleasure and pain surged back and forth inside her. Both were really just heat, of course, and they came to blend together in her subconscious as she swayed in place, groaning weakly. She had no idea what was happening, nor did she care.

  When she was released, she sank to her knees, exhausted, but a snap of pain to her buttocks raised her onto all fours, and then she crawled, pulled forward by the collar. She didn't know where she was going, nor did her mind consider why it would matter.

  She wished she could sleep, though.

  * * *

  She woke, eyes blinking, groaning softly as she tried to uncurl. She quickly found herself unable to do so, and rolled awkwardly onto her back, legs raised up and pressed against the bars at the bottom of the cage. Her mind felt much more alive than it had for some time, the shrouding fog which had gripped her almost gone. She wondered how much time had passed, and whether she'd been drugged.

  Then she examined the cage. It was not new. It was rather familiar, in fact, but she didn't know why, or remember being put into it. Her hands rested on her belly, and then one hand almost unconsciously slid downward to cup her sex. She felt a comforting warmth in doing so, and as she looked around the room which held the cage, her fingers began to rub gently against herself.

  She was naked, she realized, with all the leather stuff thankfully gone. Her hair felt soft and clean, as did her skin. So someone had bathed her (she blushed at that). She saw no markings on her body, and though she was sore in many places, the soreness consisted largely of aching, strained and stiff muscles.

  The room was rounded, as was the cage. The stone walls were painted a soft white, while the floor was covered in a very rich, dark blue carpet. There were two windows on opposite sides, but blue curtains hung closed before them. There were two doors, one of which she presumed to be a closet or bathroom. There was a high backed chair against the far wall, and that was it. The ceiling was flat and very high above. The only other thing in the room was the cage.

  It was circular, about four feet from side to side, and similarly high, with a rounded top. It rested on short legs, or a platform – she couldn't tell which – six or eight inches above the floor. The door was low, only wide and high enough to crawl through. And it was locked.

  Hannah examined the bars. They were thin, but certainly beyond her ability to break them, and then while stroking her fingers along them she paused and drew her arm back to examine her wrist. It bored a kind of bracelet. It was a good two inches wide, made of gleaming, silvery stainless steel. It had strangely rounded edges, and no discernible way to remove it. It's only decorative feature was a thick ring attached to the inside.

  There was a second on her other wrist, and a matching pair on her ankles. Reaching up to her throat she felt a larger cousin to the restraints around her neck, and it too seemed incapable of being easily removed.

  She knew some moments of anxiety, even panic as her fingers searched them for a means to remove them, but then, gazing through the curtain of bars separating her from the rest of the room she felt a strange sensation of something akin to epiphany. It was as if she were … as if she really were some sort of... slave girl!

  It should not have come as any kind of surprise to her, she thought, and yet this was a different kind of realization. It was something like acceptance that, at least for now, she really was a slave, a sex slave. That ran counter to her 'acting' or pretending as she had thought of it up until then. It might be only temporary, and at that thought her stomach roiled uncomfortably lest she be wrong, but in reality, as slave was what she was.

  A naked, collared, caged sex slave.
r />   She felt a breathlessness at that, a tightening in her chest, and felt oddly flushed. She had no idea where she even was, was completely helpless, completely naked, and completely at the mercy of O'Neil or anyone else who happened by.

  And, she was... aroused.

  She was startled by realizing it, and by the fact her fingers had continued to rub steadily at her clitoris to the point she felt a warmth between her thighs. She pulled her finger away, trying to clear her head and consider her situation, her options, what she ought to do.

  Of course, it quickly became apparent there was nothing she could do. Absolutely nothing.

  And if he kept her in a cage all the time, and spoke Gaelic to his people, how on earth did Smith think she was going to produce any sort of intelligence?!

  Of course, she'd only actually been with him... Well, she actually didn't know. How many days had it been? Certainly less than a week. Perhaps this was some sort of introductory period and he would ease up on the bondage after he thought she was reconciled to her situation. He surely couldn't keep her in a cage for a month!

  Could he?

  She groaned softly, and then blinked her eyes as she realized her fingers had crept back between her legs and were rubbing steadily against her clitoris. She pulled them free, but reluctantly. What else was there for her to entertain herself with in a cage in an empty room?

  And then one of the doors opened.

  She quickly rolled onto her side, and then onto her knees, staring out through the bars. O'Neil entered, wearing an expensive cream colored suit.

  “Do not speak,” he said. “I prefer my slaves not speak unless spoken to. You should be aware by this time that the preference of your master must be taken as an absolute command. Any deviation from it will, of course, result in punishment. The further the deviation, the more severe the discipline.

  He unlocked the cage door and straightened.

  “Fortunately, your speech is not necessary to your function. Crawl out and position yourself on all fours, as you have been previously taught.”

  Blushing, she bent her head and slid through the low doorway and onto the floor. She found the carpeting to be very comfortably deep and soft.

  O'Neil had already gone to the other door and opened it. From her position, Hannah could not see what was inside, for the open door blocked her view. A moment later he emerged, however, carrying an armful of some sort of leather straps and a sort of cane. He set the latter down and shook out the straps, and she saw it was a kind of halter.

  He knelt beside her, then set the halter on the floor, pushing it underneath where she knelt and spreading the straps out. The straps were arranged in a pattern of some sort, but the only thing Hannah noted was a sort of double round figure eight pattern at one end. She was not surprised when he raised the straps, and they pressed against her breasts.

  He pulled on the straps and she felt her breasts being squeezed in against her chest. He pulled a pair of straps up her chest and behind her neck, then fastened them together there as the double circle fell to the floor. A moment later he pulled up another strap and drew it up between her legs and then back along her buttocks. A side strap came up across one hip, then another across the other hip, and he drew them together at the small of her back.

  A moment later he pulled more tightly on the one between her legs and Hannah felt the double ring pressing hard against her breasts again. This time he gripped the center of her right breast, pulling, his finger prodding and distending it until it squeezed through the middle of the ring of straps. He did the same on her other side, until the circles of straps were cinched tightly against her ribs, squeezing down around the edges of her breasts.

  O'Neil did love his leather, she thought somewhat cynically.

  She gasped as the strap between her legs were tightened, squeezing up into her, but she immediately discerned that there was something odd about it. That was confirmed when O'Neil ordered her to sit back on her heels. Looking down, she saw that the strap had a rectangular hollow cut directly over her pussy. It was perhaps two inches wide, almost as wide as the strap itself.

  O'Neil stood up, and picked up the cane. Hannah examined it worriedly. It looked wider than her thumb, or his, and she certainly hoped he didn't intend to hit her with it. The thing would leave more than bruises if he hit her hard. It was perhaps a yard long, gleaming dark wood, and had a round metallic ball on the end about the size of a ping pong ball.

  “Now, we will begin your training. It will be repetitive, but this brings instant familiarity when given an order. Unthinking obedience is a requirement for a sex slave, and you will experience far less disciplinary issues once you are proficient at this.

  Hannah looked at him doubtfully, but felt a tightness in her chest at the restating of her being a sex slave.

  “Keep your back straight. The backs of your hands pressed against your outer thighs, your head up and back, but not looking me in the face.”

  She did as directed and he walked slowly around her. “Knees further apart,” he said.

  She gasped at a sudden touch to her hip. It gave her a shock, rather like static electricity.

  O'Neil moved around her again.

  “Face down,” he said.

  She slid forward and down, keeping her bottom raised, knees apart, arms apart on the floor.

  She felt another touch, this time at her back, and another static charge.

  “Face forward,” he said softly. “You do not need to look behind you. Curiosity is no longer acceptable. Do merely what you are told, nothing more.”

  “Hands and knees,” he said.

  He attached a leash to her collar.

  “Now you will crawl at my heels, as a dog. You will keep your bottom high, and your head forward. Do not look up. Do not look from side to side.”

  He began to lead her in a circle around the room, with Hannah crawling awkwardly. She gasped at another shock, this one to her bottom, then another to her hip, as he corrected her positioning and movements.

  “Try to limit how much you move from side to side,” he said. “Concentrate on moving your knees directly forward, keeping your body in tight. You want to crawl gracefully, cat-like.”

  “But my knee – .”

  The shock she got next was much worse, and she yelped and jerked violently, until he pulled her back into position by the leash. Her hair felt frazzled as she felt the echo of the shock which had surged through her.

  “I instructed you to not speak until and unless spoken to,” he said calmly. “There is no issue you can voice your master has not already considered. There is nothing you wish to impart that your master desires to know. Your voice is unwelcome. Do not use it again.”

  Indignation rippled through her, but she didn't want that shock stick thing to touch her again! She continued crawling, trying to limit her bottom moving from side to side, keeping her shoulders at his ankles.

  “You'll get better over time,” he said.

  Then “Up on your knees.”

  That was a bit of a new order, but a pull on the leash guided her so that she knelt, her body straight from knees up.

  “Display means put your hands behind your neck, interlock your fingers, and arch your back. “Beg means bend your arms fully at the elbows and drop your wrists down like a canine begging. Now display.”

  Flushing, she obeyed, arching her back, pushing her breasts out as she looked up at him.

  The cane came down and she winced at a shock to the side of her right breast.

  “Do not look at me,” he said calmly. “Now beg.”

  She drew her arms up before her, dropping her hands limply, as if she were a dog begging for a morsel of food.

  Then it was back to crawling, then on her face, then on her heels, then begging, then displaying again. The orders came again and again, faster, and repetitive.

  She was face down, her breasts squeezed below her, her bottom raised, knees well apart, when she
felt the rounded ball touch her again, and winced in anticipation. But instead of a shock she felt something rather different. The electric current was softer and gentler as the balls slid down along that narrow slot between her legs, rubbing up and down along the cut out portion of the strap there.

  The current danced against her skin, but wasn't painful. It was just – strange. But the more he left it there, the more she began to feel her nerve endings reacting, responding, as if it were a vibrator. And indeed, that was exactly what it was causing her nerve endings to do: vibrate, and quite actively.

  “You will find, once you abandon old notions, western notions, of your proper place, and dignity and pride, that the life of a sex slave can be one of pleasure, indeed, of immense pleasure, of unrestrained hedonistic and carnal enjoyment,” he said.

  Hannah felt something akin to dismay at the way her pussy was buzzing, at how quickly it was heating up as she clenched her fingers into the palms of her hands. It was becoming difficult to keep from moving, to keep her bottom from jerking and grinding back against it as the sensations between her legs became more pronounced, more intense.

  Her breathing was becoming harsher, and she moaned softly as the round ball moved slowly back and forth against her hot, moist opening. She was somewhat amazed at how responsive she was to it, but her thinking began go unravel as the sexual heat within her rose to a level which began to draw her mind away from anything but pleasure.

  He drew the thing back suddenly.

  “On your heels,” he said, in as calm and toneless a voice as everything else.

  She hesitated, and got a shock against her buttock. That caused her to jerk up and back and slide her bottom down between her heels, straightening her back.

  Then came another crawl, then begging, then displaying, then face down again, where the ball rolled slowly up and down her quivering sex, the electricity flowing softly over her quivering nerve endings.