Alone in her apartment, Carol sits idly in a comfy chair, her wide plum-colored eyes focused on the book in her hands. She raises a pale hand to flip a page, enjoying the read.

She is lean and pale, her thick, curly, obsidian hair is medium-length worn in a simple style framing her heart-shaped face set with thin brows and soft red lips. Carol wears a plain dark blue gown, utilitarian and professional, like most of her wardrobe.

The apartment around her is mostly plain and bare, few ornaments, nothing valuable, the only picture is a flower print that looks washed out and underexposed. But her eyes are wide and alive as she runs them over the page, gleefully absorbing the story she is so fervently lost in.
 
Something alerts her, perhaps a sixth sense, perhaps a motion in the air; she raises her head, her lips parting as if to say something, but then a hand descends, slapping a thick cloth over her face.
 
"Mhm!" she squeals in surprise, another arm wrapping around her body to hold her in the chair. She kicks her legs feebly, gasping for breath as she struggles and gets a whiff of something sweet-smelling, then Carol holds her breath, realizing what is happening, that her attacker is drugging her.
 
"Mhmmm!" Carol moans. She writhes in his grip, pulling this way and that, fighting against him with every ounce of strength she has. Her lungs are burning now for lack of oxygen, and she can feel herself growing weaker, can feel her face burning, her pulse hammering in her ears.
 
Carol cries out helplessly as he half-lifts her out of the chair, her bare feet kicking the air. No! She writhes her glorious body, the bright light shining on her bare skin and pretty dress as she kicks and squirms in hisgrip, but she can't stop herself taking a deep breath.
 
Drugged air floods her starved lungs, and her head spins, her vision darkening as chloroform takes effect.
 
"Mhmm!" she moans helplessly. Carol can feel herself weakening, her struggles slowing. She realizes she has no chance, helplessness striking her as hard as the drug.
 
She sobs, taking another breath of the drug, and she shudder as weakness floods her body. Still, she tries once more, a single desperate wiggle of her sexy body, then her vision goes black, and she falls still in her captor's arms.
 
#
 
Carol wakes slowly, her neck aches, her arms ache, her back aches, her jaw aches. She slowly raises her head, groaning in pain as she straightens her neck. Then she wakes sharply.
 
Carol is upright, her arms pulled above her head: she feels heavy bonds around her wrists holding her up, her body stretched, her toes hovering a few inches above the ground beneath her so she hangs suspended with her back against the wall behind her.
 
Her jaw is stretched open by a large rubber ball, heavy straps holding it in are wrapped around her head, pulled tight and buckled behind her head, some of her long hair caught in the straps.
 
Stripped naked, her bare body is cold, her naked skin gleaming in dim light that shines on her. Blinking her eyes, Carol looks wildly around, confused, frightened. She hangs in a dark room, lit only by a single light that shines on her. She blinks her eyes, and as her eyes adjust to the dim light she sees someone in a corner, sitting in a chair.
 
"Who are you?" Carol tries to shout, but the huge gag reduces her voice to a mumble.
 
He just sits there, watching her.
 
"Mhmm!" Carol whimpers; she tries to move, to tug against her bonds, but it only hurts her sore helpless body. She hangs limply, whimpering weakly, staring with wide eyes at her captor.
 
He stands to his feet and starts walking toward her. Carol stares with wide eyes, breathless, frozen.
 
He steps close enough that a little light shines on his face and Carol gasps, recognizing her old boss!
 
"Carol. . ." he says slowly. "So glad you're awake. I know you're scared, which is good because you should be." He smiles, his lips parting in a wicked curve, his teeth gleaming dangerously in the half of his face lit by the light, the other half in shadow.
 
Carol's heart beats hard in her chest, her breath catching, her belly tightening with heat as she stares at him, helpless prey staring at the dark spider who has her in his web.
 
He steps closer. "I have so many plans for you."
 
Carol takes a breath, a short gasp as her heart flutters; she feels warm under his gaze, his gleaming hungry stare that runs over her sexy helpless body.
 
He steps still closer. "I have had these urges for a very long time now. But you had changed jobs before I had a chance to confront you about them."
 
Carol whimpers in her throat, her teeth shifting around the huge gag; she trembles, her thighs pressing together around her soft hot flesh.
 
He stands within arm's reach of her, looking her in the eye with a menacing smile. "So now, here we are."
 
Carol swallows hard, frozen, her eyes by his.
 
"Are you ready for a lifetime of fun? Those pretty little nipples are going to be sooo sore tomorrow!"
 
Carol trembles in terror, but she can feel her nipples harden in the cool air.
 
He stares at her for a long moment, then his brows furrow, he frowns, his eyes boring into her. "Are you-" he starts to say.
 
Carol gasps for breath, her breasts rising and falling.
 
He reaches out with his left hand, reaching down to shove his hand between her thighs, pressing his fingers up into her slit, calloussed fingers sliding over her slick folds.
 
"You slut!" he exclaims. "You're getting off on this!"
 
Carol hangs her head, her cheeks burning with shame.
 
His right hand is suddenly there, wrapped around her throat, squeezing, tightening. She jerks her head up, staring wide-eyed at him. "Mhgph!" she splutters weakly around her ballgag.
 
He stares in her eyes. "Don't look away from me," he commands, his voice low and threatening.
 
Carol nods her head frantically. "Mhm-hm!" she gasps.
 
His lips curl. "You're just getting more wet!" he says contemptuously, his fingers caressing her soft flesh. "I'm a pervert, but you're a slut!"
 
Carol trembles, her body caught in his grip, his stare, his bonds. Her breasts heave, her nipples standing out hard. She stares back into his eyes, his contemptuous gaze and she burns with shame, with shame and also with arousal.
 
Then something changes, a flicker behind her eyes, something clicking in her brain. Instead of flinching away from his grip on her neck, she lifts her chin slightly, inviting it. She presses her hips forward, arching her pained back to rub her wet hot flesh against his rough fingers. She looks him in the eye and she smiles around the huge ballgag he gave her; a wicked inviting smile reflected in the gleam in her eyes.
 
He stares at her for a long moment, his expression unchanging. Then he smiles, slowly, his eyes shifting, a look of delight on his face as he presses his fingers up hard into her soft flesh, flexing his fingers to caress her, his calloussed fingertips rubbing against her, sending sparks flying on her nerves; her helpless trained body quivers with reaction to hot pleasure radiating through her, a soft moan slips past her gagged lips as she stares at him, inviting, begging.
 
He smirks, then leans close, still holding her by the throat, and he presses his lips to hers, kissing her around the huge ballgag.
 
Carol moans in helpless delight, her lips working around the rubber ball to kiss him back, she presses herself weakly toward him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her naked legs caressing his, her feet catching behind his knees; she moans in passion, her eyes closed as she clings to him with a sudden desperate need stronger than any fear.
 
He breaks it off and draws back to look her in the eye with a chuckle. "You are going to spend a lot of time screaming!" he tells her.
 
Carol pants, her body trembling, her crotch pressed hard against his - she can hardly wait!
 

By J.B. Hickock 'Pornwriter'


Jasmine Jewel, Lady Chloroform, steps into her lab, her dark green eyes thoughtful behind her glasses. In contrast to her normal outfit of some type of lab coat and skirt combo, tonight she wears a Wonder Woman costume, tight bustier, tall boots, dark blue hair pulled into a pony tail, her firm breasts almost popping out of her top as she leans over a table. She is going tonight to a special gathering, invitation-only, to see a great breakthrough, only for people like her of high intelligence and. . . special tastes.

But as she leans over her desk, Jasmine's narrow heart-shaped face twists into a snarl: someone has been in her lab!

No sooner has she  made the realization, then firm hands grab Jasmine from behind, an arm loops around her body, slapping a sweet-smelling cloth over her mouth and nose.

"Mhmmph!" Jasmine cries out, her eyes flying open with shock. She struggles to escape, lunging back with her arms, kicking desperately with her legs, but too late; her attacker has a firm grip on her; Jasmine's heels scrape on the floor as she is dragged backward, frustrating her attempts to get them under her. Her lungs burning, Jasmine takes a breath, and her lab wobbles before her eyes. she can feel her arms and legs growing weaker as the powerful drug takes effect.

She grabs at the wrist of the hand hand holding the cloth to her face and wrenches at it with all her might, but her weakened fingers slip from their grip. "Uh-uh!" a girlish voice whispers in her ear. "Just take a deep breath like a good girl!"

Jasmine's eyes widen with shock as she recognizes the voice. . . hers! She gasps in surprise, taking in another breath of the drug, and her eyes go dark around the edges. Her head droops as her neck goes limp. Desperate, Jasmine braces her feet, and shoves herself backward, but her attacker steps backward a bit, then braces herself, holding Jasmine helpless in her grip. "There you go. . ." she whispers, her hot breath stirring on Jasmine's cheek. "That's right. . ." she says, her voice going quiet in jasmine's ear as her vision goes dark. "Sleep. . . Sleep. . ."

#

Jasmine wakes with a start. "Mmmph?!" she cries out, her cry muffled to a moan by the big ballgag strapped in her mouth.

"Oh, you're awake!" a voice identical to her own says, and a pair of tall black boots step into Jasmine's view. Jasmine hangs upside down just above the floor, and as she looks up(or down, from her perspective) she can feel numberless bands of rope wound tightly around her body. Jasmine cranes her neck, raising her eyes over the trailing edge of a black cloak, to a black latex-covered crotch, over a tight hourglass figure -her own- up to a smiling, gloating face. Her own. "Hello, Jasmine," her doppleganger in a Raven costume says. "You can call me. . . Beryl." She laughs at the look on Jasmine's face.

"What an amazing coincidence, two of us, who look sooo much alike- we might be long-lost twins!" She leans close to Jasmine, looking her in her furious eyes with a grin. "Well, 'sister,' I think you should stay home from this party. But!" she adds with a wider grin. "I'm not going to leave you alone!"  With a flourish, she whips out a large vibrator.

"Nhmm!" Jasmine whimpers, shaking her head.

"Oh, you don't wanna cum while I'm out? Sure, anything for my sister!" Beryl says with an evil glint in her eye as she dials the vibrator down, then she reaches up and slides it into Jasmine's costume.

"Mhmm!" Jasmine moans, squirming her bound body as the vibrator slides into her. She gasps,  her naked breasts heaving, released from her upside-down costume by their own weight. Her nipples harden as the soft buzzing mounts inside her, her breasts bobbing as she jerks and sways from side to side. "Mhmm?" she whimpers, staring pleadingly up at her 'sister.'

Beryl laughs in her face, turning away. "Don't cause trouble while I'm gone, sister!" she calls over her shoulder.

"Mhmmmm!" Jasmine screams as the door slams shut, locking her away.

#

Jasmine writhes in her bonds, her helpless body squirming, her hips pumping as she tries to grind herself on the vibrator inside her. at first it was an outrage, she hated it. Then she started to like it, then she liked it more, then it took her close to the edge of a climax, and then it left her there.

She hangs there, desperately trying to push herself over, her naked skin flushed and pink, the air redolent with her arousal, powerful mad scientist reduced to a helpless slut, desperate to cum, by coils of rope and a merciless little machine.

The door slams open.

"Mwahh!" Jasmine cries out pleadingly.

"Aww, did you miss me?" Beryl asks mockingly. still in her Raven costume, she carries a small package in her hand. "Well, look what I got!" she says in a mocking sing-song tone, holding it before Jasmine's eyes.

"Mhmm!" Jasmine cries out angrily. She jumps and squirms in her bonds, biting down on her gag, glaring up at Beryl who only laughs at her.

"The best part?" she says, leaning down to look Jasmine in the eye. "Everyone will blame you for the theft! I mean, what could you tell them?" Beryl asks rhetorically. "'My identical twin did it?' Come on! Who'd believe that?"

"I would, actually."

Beryl's eyes widen in fright, then powerful arms wrapped in dark gloves reach around her, clapping a cloth over her mouth, and jerking her back.

"Mhmmph!" Beryl cries out, sounding just like Jasmine did when she did the same to her.

Jasmine watches, fascinated as Beryl squirms in her attacker's hands, kicking out with her feet, tugging at the powerful arms that hold her, her breasts working as she struggles to not breathe in the drug fumes. Jasmine can see the desperation in Beryl's eyes, can see them water as her lungs burn, starved of oxygen. She takes a breath, and her slim body trembles in her captor's arms. Beryl's cries grow weaker, her flailing slows, her eyes close, snapping open again as she fights to stay awake. But finally, Beryl goes limp in her captor's arms, and is laid down on the floor.

Jasmine gets her first look at her rescuer, and gasps through her gag.

She is tall, taller than Jasmine or Beryl, and she wears black knee-high boots that gleam redly, and gloves likewise that stretch halfway up her arms. She is naked other than those, her skin glowing in reds and yellows, like a hungry fire. Her curly fire-like hair hangs down almost to her waist, and a black eye patch covers her right eye.

She ignores Jasmine, leaning over Beryl's prone body. She grabs up some coils of rope, identical to those binding Jasmine, and sets to work on Beryl, wrapping rope around her wrists and elbows, stretching her costume as her breasts are pressed out by the tight elbow tie. More rope goes around her chest, squeezing her breasts, pressing them out even further. A veritable web of rope goes around her body, sinking into her soft flesh, and between her legs to anchor her bonds tightly. The fire-woman binds Beryl's legs next, above and below the knees, and her ankles, then turns, rising to her feet to meet Jasmine's eyes. "I am Pyra," she says. "The Flame."

Jasmine shakes her head, mumbling into her gag.

Pyra nods. "You've never heard of me. I'm new around here. But soon everyone will know my name, and you two are just the start of it!"

"Twmph?" Jasmine moans.

"Yes. You didn't think I was rescuing you, did you?" Pyra says. "You are both wanted for a host of crimes." Pyra puts her hands on her hip and shakes her head regretfully. "Two sisters, and both involved in so many of the same criminal activities. . ."

Jasmine squeaks as Pyra approaches her, the drugged cloth in hand. Jasmine  squirms desperately as the superhero reaches her, grabbing her with one gloved hand (even through the glove, Jasmine can feel the heat), and slapping the chrloroform-soaked cloth over her mouth and nose. "Mhmmph!" Jasmine moans, but a shiver runs through her bound body, sending her swaying slowly over the edge. She utters a muffled cry, her eyes rolling back in her head, her trim body flailing as the drug races through her system. Jasmine's limp body shudders as the still-buzzing vibrator works at her, and she utters a shrill scream as she cums, bucking and squirming as pleasure and drug rock her body, then all goes dark, her last sensation the smell of chloroform and the feel of ecstasy.

Part 1

"This place is a dump!" Raya exclaims, staring at the barn. "I don't know what my agent was thinking!"

Her agent was thinking, though Raya had no idea at the time, that though she was always good at using her body to get a better gig, the DJ at 31 is losing out to younger more willing women; this countryside party is the last thing he could get her.

Raya shakes her head in astonishment, and trudges toward the wide barn doors, lugging her equipment behind her. This rough earth venue is very different from what she has come to expect after a life of not-too-shabby pivilege.

A smaller man-sized door set in the barrn doors swings open and a man steps out, giving Raya a grin. He has large teal eyes that glint with confidence and strength in a face set with a strong chin. His fine, wavy, chestnut hair is medium-length and is worn in a practical, businesslike style. Tall, with a graceful build, he moved lightly on his feet. "Hi!" he says with a wave. "Are you Raya?"

"That's right," Raya says with an answering grin.

George," he says, holding out his hand. he takes it back, seeing her hands are full. "Here, let me helpyou with your stuff," he offers.

"Thanks," Raya says, passing him a few bags of equipment.

"Come on in," he says, lugging it ewasily toward the open door.

Raya steps into the barn and has to stop, staring around her with eyes wide in astonishment. "Wow!" she exclaims. From the barn's ramshackle appearance, she has been expecting something very different: the floor is flat and even, covered in smooth black rubber for a good surface, the walls are clean, painted black, coated with non-reflective pads for good acoustics, while a disco ball hangs from the liikewise black ceiling, reflecting stray beams of sunlight over the lar ge dance floor.

"Not what you expected, huh?" George says with a grin.

"Nope!" Raya says. "I thought this was just gonna be a hick party!"

Again, George chuckles. "Don't let appearance fool you; the folks here like their privacy! Come on," he says, waving her after him. "The stage is over here."

#

It doesn't take long for raya to set up her gear, with George helping; by then, the long sliver of light thrown in through the open door is fading, and cars are pulling up into the yard outside.

Pale indirect lights shine down, giving the whole room an unearthly glow, while flickering lights and the whirling disco ball cast 

Raya dressed in a pretty short black dress, high in the thigh and low in the collar, and high black boots. A great outfit to party in, which is what she likes to do, though she probably won't have a chance to today; she has perky breasts, wide hips and a full ass, not too thin, not too tall, not too short, with long dark hair and short bangs framing her round face, she has never been described as anything but 'fine.'

She tends to the music as the first of the guests come in, standing center stage at the head of the room, with a brilliant view of the whole room. It doesn't occur to her at the time, but it is true that she is also in view of the whole room.

"All set?" George asks her softly.

Raya glances at him, surprised; he has changed into black, a black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, tall black boots. "Uh- yes," she says quickly, trying to cover for the gap. "All set, I've got a playlist ready, a few standbys in case those are needed."

"Good," George says. He glances out over the room.

Raya follows his glance, and is even more shocked by the sight of the guests: some are in black, others in red, some in leather, others in gleaming latex, but all dressed provocatively: from nearly naked to covered head-to-toe in skintight suits.

She is still staring when George glances to two men   waiting ready nearby; the first Raya knows of it is when the music swells, and a pair of strong hands grab hold of her arms from behind. "Hey!" she shouts. "What are you-" she turns and sees George standing over her, a long knife gleaming in his hand. She flinches away as he stabs down; the blade slashes right through the fabric of her dress

"No!" Raya screams. "Stop! Let me go!" but all her cries and struggling does no good against the strength of the three men. Bizarrely, surreally, the music goes on playing, and the crowd watches the attack unperturbed, many still dancing to the music.

Raya struggles and cries in the surreal scene as George and his two helpers strip away her dress and her lacy black panties and bra beneath. The two men grab her arm and bend them, forcing her hands to her shoulders and holding them there as George produces a large roll of black electrical tape.

"No- don't!" Raya cries out as George grabs her arm. "Stop!" But he ignores her, and wraps the tape around her bent arm just above her elbow; while his assistant holds her arm still, George wraps the tape around her arm, around and up to her shoulder.

In a moment, George has done the same to her other arm. Crying for help, Raya is forced to her knees by his assistants. Kneeling on the floor, she is helpless to prevent George from wrapping her legs likewise. The assistants lift her rear, pressing down on her shoulders. Raya finds herself 'standing' on her elbows and knees like a four-legged animal.

Standing before her, George grabs her jaw, squeezing her cheeks to force it open. Raya rolls her eyes with fear as he produces a ring gag and forces it into her open mouth behind her teeth. He buckles it tightly behind her head.

Raya whimpers through her forced-open mouth, staring pleadingly up at him.

Smiling, George stands to his feet and his assistants turn aside from Raya, and all three bow to their audience as the first song comes to an end; the guests applaud as if for a wonderful show.

Part 2

Raya turns her head wildly, crying out through her ring gag. How could they be doing this?! What do they want from her?! As the second song begins, feet clatter on the stage behind her. She tries to turn to see what is happening, but George crouches beside her, a leash and collar in his hand, both of gleaming black latex.

"Ungh!" Raya grunts, struggling to speak, staring up at him with wide pleading eyes.

He holds her gently with one hand, wrapping the collar around her bare neck. "Shh," he says softly. "No one's gonna hurt you, girl." He tightens the collar about her neck, securing it, but not so tight that it hurts. He gently caresses her chin, staring reassuringly into her eyes. "I promise."

George stands to his feet, holding the leash firmly in his hand. Raya whimpers as feet clatter behind her. She whimpers, feeling very vulnerable, feeling how her naked ass is raised and vulnerable behind her.

Suddenly something warm and soft leaps on her from behind, and Raya squirms in her bonds, crying out in surprise and fear; she feels the fur of her attacker, feels its hot breath, and realizes that it's a dog.

A dog? she thinks worriedly. Why would they bring a dog into stage with her.

She stiffens, her eyes wide as she feels something unmistakable press into her from behind. She cries out, struggling against the heavy weight, trying to throw the animal off of her, but the dog presses its penis into her, sliding it between her thighs, pushing it into pussy. Squealing helplessly, Raya shudders as it pumps into her, literally fucking her doggy-style.

"NNNNN!" Raya screams as the dog fucks her, pumping in and out of her pussy, its hot breath brushing her naked skin, its lusty panting filling her ears. "NNNN!"

Then it stiffens and cums: Raya sobs as its hot cum spurts inside of her, filling her with hot semen and humiliation.

The dog hops off of her, panting happily, and is quickly led away to a chorus of cheers and applause from the guests.

George crounches beside her once more, staring at her happily. "Good girl!" George says, lovingly caressing  her chin. "Good girl," he says again, smiling into her tear-streaked face. he stands up to his feet as his assistants wheel in a sort of low platform with three steps leading up to it. "Come, girl!" he says, tugging on her leash.

Tears dripping to the stage with every step, she follows obediently where he leads. Clumsily, Raya climbs up the steps to a small platform, and turns around, at George's direction to stand on her four 'legs' with the naked ass raised high as if for inspection.

Something stirs behind her, and Raya stiffens, moaning in fear, wondering what is next: something hammers on the stage, and she shudders, squeezing her eyes shut in terror as she recognizes the sounds of hooves: a ripple of excitement runs through the audience as a horse walks up to her, a tall black stallion, its huge cock already growing hard as it is guided over her, mounting her from behind.

Raya screams through her gag as the horse forces itself into her from behind; where the dog fit her easily, the horse fills her until she feels like she will explode. Grunting lustily, the stallion begins to fuck her, thruating into her so hard her small body is almost forced off the platform. Raya cries out in fear as she almost tumbles head-first over the edge, but George grabs hold of her and holds her steady. "Easy, girl!" he says, caressing her head as the horse plunges into her again. "I'll take care of you!"

Somehow, these words penetrate the haze of pain and terror filling her mind. Raya moans helplessly as the horse pluinges into her once more, almost splitting her from the inside. She cries out in pain, and George gently brushes her naked skin. Helpless, she can't help but find comfort there.

The horse fucks her on: whimpering and crying, her tear-streaked eyes turn vague and vacant, her mind overwhelmed by the events, sensations, her old life, memories rapidly dropping away under the terrible assault.

Then with the suddenness of a light switch, she feels it: the pleasure rising in her, from her pussy the horse fills to bursting. it forces itself deeper and deeper into her, rubbing over her clit with every monstrous thrust, raising a fire of pleasure in her. She couldn't feel it before through the pain, the haze of shame from her old life, but in desperation Raya throws it away, surrendering to the rising pleasure, gasping and moaning, wanting only to survive. Her cries change, growing higher and higher as she rises on pleasure, screaming as she comes, shuddering under the stallion's assault and in George's arms.

The horse grunts and shudders as it come a moment later, flooding her pussy with its cum, white fluid spurting out and running down her back legs. It shakes its head, sending its mane flying as it pulls itself free, high-stepping amidst the applause as it is led off the stage once more.

Raya, lost in a haze of pleasure, barely acknowledges as George tugs on her leash. "Come on!" he says, pulling on her collar. "Come on, good girl!"

That gets to her. Moaning through her gag, she follows his voice, stumbling down the platform's steps and following at his heel as George walks to the former Deejay's microphone and grabs it up. "And now, ladies and gentlemen," he announces. "Let the auction begin!"

As the guests cheer naked slaves, bound and gagged, are led out onto the stage, and Raya sits beside her owner, happily nuzzling his leg.