European Nightmare Part VII

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The three figures that made up the macabre tableau froze as if time itself had stood still. A strange and sudden hush descended on the room that had until then been a cacophony of deafening noise. After just a few seconds, but what felt like an age, the eerie stillness was punctuated by a whimper dripping with pain. This was soon followed by a loud anguished sob as Holly desperately tried to rid herself of her agony with the only tool at her disposal. Tears streamed down her face like droplets on a windshield as her whole body was racked with pain. Towering over her were the two causes of her torment, one jutting out the back of her the other merely standing above her; sweating, panting and beaming.

“Gee,” Jeremiah gasped, half on account of his breathlessness and half as he tried to hold back his laughter, “that was fun! Wasn’t it Holly? No? Well I certainly enjoyed it. That was quite a performance from you, all that screaming and wailing.”

Jeremiah looked down at the poor girl bound beneath him, his eyes drinking in the effects of his attentions. Holly’s back was shimmering with sweat with the odd angry red marking indicating where he had brought the paddle crashing down. This though paled into insignificance when compared with the rest of her. Her arse, already beginning to turn purple from her spanking, had fresh angry red marks at the top where his right hand had slapped her toned rear repeatedly.

Of course though it was her breasts that had received the most attention. Bound as she was with her luscious mounds hanging down he had been able to assault the little touched underside which now glowed almost as vibrant a red as the rest of her battered tits. Clearly visible in the general scarlet hue were the lines of deep blood red that showed where the small pieces of wire embedded in the wooden paddle had bitten into her flesh.

All this was before one looked at her cunt, which although the labia were still painfully stretched over the monster dildo still looked relatively untroubled for all the pain there was on the inside. All told it was no surprise that Holly was now sobbing profusely for the gorgeous beauty’s body told the story of her pain. Unfortunately for her though her ordeal was far from over.

“I think it’s time we all took a break though,” Jeremiah continued, walking back round toward Holly’s head, “so if we pull that big dildo out of your whore cunt I can taste that beautiful milk you made for me. Does that sound good?”

Holly was too lost in her own world of pain and humiliation to notice she was being spoken to, only registering the painful sensation as the woman behind her began to ease the notched dildo out of her vagina. As her lips retreated and then stretched again Holly squealed in fresh pain, all the while sobbing at the undercurrent of agony she had been plunged into. Jeremiah smiled at the sheer amount of pain he had caused the innocent teen and brought his hand up to her cheek as if to comfort her.

“Oh you don’t feel like talking? Well that’s understandable I suppose, probably a good idea to rest your voice after all that screaming. You keep doing your pathetic sobbing then whilst we get you set up for our next game. Because I certainly haven’t finished playing with you yet.”

Jeremiah tapped quite hard on Holly’s tear slick cheek and gestured to his assistant that she was to begin. His role completed he walked over to his armchair and flopped down in it to catch his breath, well pleased with his work. A moment later the woman who just a minute ago had been almost tearing Holly apart walked over to him with the table and milk filled bowl. She had shed her terrifying strap on and was once again bedecked in a tight fitting robe. With her trademark grace she set the table down next to the armchair and then walked to the back of the room.

Holly didn’t watch, even though her head was still strapped to the bar. A moment later the woman came back with a glass jug and beaker, placing them next to the bowl of milk on the table. Whilst Jeremiah merely sat still in his chair staring contentedly at the sobbing babe tied up in front of him the woman poured the white liquid that had been squeezed from Holly’s tits from the bowl into the jug.

Although it took considerable concentration not to spill a drop the woman managed it all without letting the strain show on her face. That done she placed the bowl down on the floor and returned to the table. Taking on the look of a waitress she next poured the milk from the jug into the glass and handed it to the sweating hulk of a man that sat in the chair.

“Thank you,” Jeremiah said as he took the glass, loudly enough to ensure Holly would hear, “I can’t wait to taste this bitch’s milk. Now if you could set the cunt up for our next game whilst I drink it then we can carry on enjoying ourselves.”

The woman nodded and, setting the half full jug of milk down on the table, made her way back over to the battered and bruised girl tied to the frame. She made an effort not to look Holly in the eye for she could not afford to have any sympathy for the poor girl. That said she could barely help herself. Even by the standards of this nightmarish place what the English teenager had gone through already was pretty brutal and it was not about to get any easier. She had been briefed beforehand on what they would be doing to the girl, the reason she was able to work without instruction, so she had known the treatment that was in store for the big titted girl yet the savagery of Jeremiah had still slightly surprised her. She had grown used to it of course over her period working here but it was difficult not to feel at least a pang of sympathy as she heard the tortured screams of yet another innocent victim.

That the girl had only been here a few days seemed to make it worse; the fact that less than a week ago she had been an ordinary teenage girl and now she was tied up in a dungeon being brutally tortured by some fat old man seemed so cruel. As she approached the frame she made sure to keep her steely expression fixed, not able to give the girl even a crumb of comfort.

Jeremiah had none of the problems with sympathy that his assistant had; he simply didn’t have an ounce of it for the poor girl. As he raised the glass of milk to his lips he could scarcely have been less concerned about how much he had hurt and was going to hurt Holly. All she was to him was a vessel to bring him pleasure, and if that pleasure meant causing her tremendous pain then so be it. In fact, it was the pain he was causing that gave him the pleasure – for him there was no greater joy than torturing this defenceless babe.

He took a sip from his glass as he stared straight ahead at his victim. As the warm white liquid flowed down his gullet he took a moment to re-examine the toy he had been playing with. Even at a distance the girl’s innocent, almost child like face was beautiful, especially, Jeremiah thought, that it showed just how much pain she was in. He watched as his Asian assistant untied Holly’s battered rump and unclipped her ankles. As the bar was removed Holly’s hips collapsed forwards, her pendulous hanging breasts returning to their more usual position high up on her chest.

With the bar no longer supporting her all the pressure was put on her shoulders and Holly wailed at the strain, desperately trying to support herself on her legs. But they were too weak, her torture having made her tense every muscle in her body. Jeremiah chuckled, the anguish on the girl’s face stirring nothing in him but amusement. This time he took a much bigger swig of his drink. There was nothing especially nice about the drink itself, it was warm and at the end of the day it was just milk. But the fact it had been squeezed from the helpless bitch’s massive tits meant that to Jeremiah it was the sweetest thing on earth. He topped up his glass and settled in to watch as Holly was set up for his next game.

Even as Holly wailed on account of the strain in her shoulders the woman didn’t change her rhythm, making no attempt to ease the poor girl’s suffering. Instead she worked slowly, methodically, raising the third bar up from the floor until it was level with Holly’s knees. Ignoring the cries of anguish the woman took one of Holly’s dainty feet and tied a rope around her ankle. She repeated this with the other leg then, one by one, tied the long end of the rope to the bar that had supported Holly’s midriff before, which she had ratcheted up. The ropes were taught and Holly was slightly relieved that her weight was no longer entirely on her shoulders, although with her legs spread and bent up behind her she was also very aware how exposed she was. She stared forward and watched as Jeremiah sipped on his glass of milk. When he got out of his chair and walked towards her Holly’s heart sank once again.

“Mmmmm,” Jeremiah said as he approached Holly, smacking his lips together theatrically, “that is delicious. Who’d have thought a worthless cunt like you could make something so tasty. I should thank you.”

Jeremiah reached out his hand as if was about to shake her hand, melodramatically miming every action. When he was of course not given Holly’s hand to shake he compromised and grabbed at one huge fleshy mound. He got as much of the soft flesh in his hand then, gripping tightly, began to shake it just as one might a hand. Holly’s tits were so battered that even the slightest touch would have been painful so Jeremiah’s vice like grip was agony and was once more met with a tortured wail. This sound clashed with the hearty laughter from Jeremiah.

“Thank you very much titty,” Jeremiah roared with laughter, amused by a combination of his joke and Holly’s pain. He continued to shake her breast violently, his grip not loosening at all. He continued for a good minute, until eventually the action no longer seemed to amuse him. Slowly he released the pliant flesh, though not before smacking the bruised tit a couple of times for good measure. The sound of the flat of his hand against the delicious globe echoed loudly around the room. Not simply satisfied with torturing Holly’s tight young body he also wanted to torment her mind so as he let go of her tit he moved the glass of milk right in front of the poor girl’s tear stained face.

“I’ve just realised Holly,” he said, returning to his patronising voice, “how selfish I’m being, having all your delicious milk to myself when you did all the work growing those fat tits and making it. Here you should have some.”

The glass was brought up to Holly’s mouth and tilted so the white liquid touched her tantalising lips. At first she was reluctant to drink, it was a sign of just how desperate her situation was . But she had not been kept well hydrated during her captivity and she only now realised how thirsty was. So, reluctantly, she opened her mouth and allowed the lukewarm liquid to flow down her throat. Jeremiah had hoped she’d be more resistant and that she’d hate having to drink it so was a little disappointing when she seemed to enjoy it. This was easily solved though for as soon as he saw how eager she was to drink he promptly took it away and made a point of drinking it himself.

“My my, you’re a greedy slut aren’t you. You loved me milking those big tits didn’t you, you fucking cow? What do you say to me for letting you drink your own milk?”

“Thank you Sir,” Holly whimpered.

“Thank you for what, bitch?” came the angry response.

“Thank you for letting me drink my…my…milk,” the poor girl said despondently.

“Good. You may be a pathetic fucktoy but at least you’re grateful. You know how lucky you are to be able to please me cunt? It’s all a worthless whore like you is good for. You should remember to thank your mistress for showing you your proper place. Now, I think it’s time for a game.”

Jeremiah nodded and the woman stepped forward carrying a table with a bizarre contraption on it. It was a large black ball mounted on a stand, but what was strange about it was what was stuck into it. Dozens of thin metal spines jutted from it, making it look like a sinister cactus. Holly had no idea what it was but her mind already raced with all the terrible tortures that could be inflicted on her with it. Despite her better judgement she began to plead again, so terrified was she of this new potential torture element.

“Please Sir, please no please…” a few vicious slaps to her face cut Holly’s babbling short.

“Silence cunt! I know you’re a dumb whore but how many times must I tell you not to speak unless spoken to!? You must be the stupidest slut I’ve ever fucking seen. Maybe if you’d put less effort into parading your fat tits, teasing your teachers, and paid attention at school you’d be able to follow some simple instructions.”

With her cheek throbbing from the blows Holly kept her mouth shut as she was subject to yet another tirade of verbal abuse. Yet she couldn’t take her eyes off the device, the thought of it being rammed up one of her tight holes sending shivers down her spine. Despite all he had done to her already she couldn’t believe he would do that to her, it would surely kill her if he did. But despite her desperation she didn’t open her mouth; she had learnt that lesson the hard way. When Jeremiah reached down and picked up one of the spikes, releasing it from the ball, Holly wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened. The metal spike was about a foot long, thin and flexible; illustrated by Jeremiah bending it just in front of Holly. As if the tortured teen hadn’t already guessed where it was going he slapped it onto her huge pert tits a few times, smiling as he did so.

“Your mistress told me that she pierced you when you got here, is that true?”

“Yes, Sir,” said Holly, remembering the pain as Greta had decorated her with those nipple rings what seemed like an age ago.

“Well then, you might enjoy this game. You see each of these is very sharp; it can easily break the skin. And I’m going to see how many of these spikes I can stick through your tits. With most girls I might only be able to get five or ten in but wow Holly, with your ridiculous melons I might be able to get 20 in each! Just think what your titties will look like with twenty spikes sticking out of them! Are you ready, slut?”

“Yes, Sir,” Holly responded meekly. It had been difficult to listen to Jeremiah’s de***********ion of what he was about to do to her but there was nothing she could do about it. Nor was there any point trying to delay the inevitable. Instead all she could do was accept it and do her best not to draw the worst of his wrath.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jeremiah mused, enjoying the game he was playing with the helpless babe, then putting on a bad fake English voice he continued, “’My tits are huge, those little spikes couldn’t possibly pierce my massive boobies.’ Well Holly, I hate to disappoint you but these little things are very, very sharp. Here, let me show you.”

Jeremiah held up the spike to Holly, allowing her to see the glint of the metal in the light before touching the pointed end against her chest, just above where her breasts bulged out so spectacularly. He pushed it forward until he heard a tiny yelp, a signal he had broken the skin. He took a moment to drag it across her creamy white skin then brought his finger across the fresh shallow cut. Already a tiny trickle of blood stained his fingertip and smiling, he brought it right in front of Holly’s eyes then pushed it against her lips. The girl obediently opened her mouth and he thrust in, metaphorically raping her as he pushed the bloodied finger deep inside. As much as he enjoyed the feel of her moist mouth on his finger it was her helplessness as he thrust inside that he relished the most. When he took his finger out though what he wanted was to see her suffer.

“You see, even your huge tits can’t stop these. Now, are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” Holly responded, the coppery taste of her own blood still swimming round her mouth.

“That’s good to hear. Now as you know I’m a very generous man so I’m going to let you choose which titty we start with. Which is it going to be Holly? Which fat tit shall I skewer first? Left titty? Or right titty?”

“Left, Sir,” Holly said after a moment’s pause..

“Left what, whore?”

“Left…left tit,” the shame she felt more than evident in her voice. Jeremiah had seen enough young women in this position to recognise this and decided to exploit it. Supressing his smile he bent down slightly and gripped Holly’s cheeks, forcing her to look at him. With his sternest face staring straight into Holly’s wide brown eyes he forced her to degrade herself further.

“Beg for it,” he snarled, “beg for me to skewer your big fat titties.”

Holly couldn’t help but stare forlornly at Jeremiah as he forced her into this latest humiliation, pausing before responding to his demand. She simply couldn’t understand what anybody could get from such terrible cruelty or from making somebody feel so wretched. OK if somebody wanted to rape her she could understand it, although when she had been raped the first time just a few days ago that had not been her thought process at all. This delight in her pain and humiliation though was something far beyond anything she could comprehend. Yet she knew there was nothing she could do about it. The only course of action was to endure and hope she could get through it without permanent damage to her fragile body.

“Please Sir,” Holly finally brought herself to answer, “please skewer my…left…left…tit.”

Jeremiah tried desperately to stifle a smile and just about succeeded as he stared into Holly’s eyes. There was something about this girl, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that made him want to plunge her into the depths of despair. Perhaps it was the fact she was English, or her innocent wide eyed expression or perhaps it was her magnificent tits. Whatever it was as he looked deep into her soul through her doe like brown eyes he felt his old cock twitch. He let go of her head but didn’t take his eyes away from hers. Instead he brought the metal skewer right in front of Holly’s eyes, whilst with the other hand he grabbed the breast Holly had designated to be pierced first.

“Well,” he said, his face softening, “whatever you say baby.”

Pulling her nipple out between his thumb and forefinger, a tiny trickle of white liquid escaping from the sensitive nub, Jeremiah placed the point of the metal against the soft white flesh at the base of her breast. His face finally broke out into a broad smile then, with a wink, he brought the spike up in front of her terror filled eyes then plunged it down.


The scream tore through the room as so many had before and Jeremiah savoured it. A broad smile on his face he looked down from Holly’s pain streaked face down to her skewered. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw. Despite all his boasting it seemed as if he was wrong. Although the metal was well embedded in Holly’s tit, jutting upwards like a skyscraper, it had failed to force its way all the way through her sensitive flesh. Holly panted as she adjusted to the pain whilst Jeremiah looked on with slight confusion. His left hand still pulling her nipple outwards he stroked the girl’s soft tit slowly.

“Well, Holly, it seems I was wrong. Looks like I underestimated just how big and juicy your monster titties are. Still,” he said, his hand moving up to grip the metal once again, “if you think that’s getting in the way of the game you are solely mistaken.”

Jeremiah took a moment then pushed down on the spike, forcing the metal down through her breast. It was so sharp that it simply glided through the soft flesh like a hot knife through butter. Although Jeremiah encountered little resistance as he sank the spike through his prisoner’s tit he was under no illusion as to the effect it was having; Holly’s scream making it quite clear how much it hurt. The piercing shrieks were music to the old man’s ears; almost as exciting to him as the sight of the gleaming rod embedded in her glorious tit. Her reaction pleased him greatly. If that was the bitch’s reaction to just one spike, he thought, her screams when her tits were impaled by dozens would be magical.

Once her squeals had died down slightly he released her nipple and her breast returned to its usual proud position and shape. The spike had been inserted expertly, the angle of it meaning that even as it protruded from the underside of her breast it didn’t pierce her toned stomach. Holly continued to sniffle slightly as the sharp pain subsided slightly into a dull ache. She knew full well though that it would be back in earnest.

“There,” Jeremiah said, stepping back to admire his handiwork, “I told you I’d get it through. Not even your giant udders can stop these. The only problem is it looks a little lonely there by itself doesn’t it? Such big tits need a lot more to look pretty. What do you say we give it some company?”

Even if Holly was in any position to argue she didn’t have time; as soon as Jeremiah had finished talking he took a step forward, reached out and once again grabbed for the girl’s same nipple. Pulling her breast out into a cone once more he grabbed another spike and lined it up with the soft globe. This time he positioned the spike slightly closer to the centre of her tit at a slightly diagonal angle. When he was satisfied with the positioning he took one look at his victim’s terrified expression then looked back at his hands as he pushed the spike down into the flesh. Fascinated he watched as the point of the rod was stopped momentarily by her pale skin; a slight dent as it struggled to get past this momentary resistance. One more push though and the needle like point disappeared into the soft flesh to the accompaniment of another piercing shriek.

With a mixture of wonder and joy written on his face he slowly, agonisingly, pushed the metal rod forward deep into Holly’s tit. The girl’s screams rang out loudly as the old man took his time; intent on causing the buxom teen as much pain as possible. After about thirty seconds of sliding gently but easily through the pliant flesh of Holly’s tit the sharpened tip emerged, the end glistening with just a drop of blood. Jeremiah allowed himself a smile then reached down for another spike. Holly could only whimper as he lined this next one up, this time horizontal just a few centimetres behind her nipple.

He once more pushed it slowly through the wailing babe’s tit, as he did for five more after it. With eight gleaming metal rods now embedded in Holly’s left tit Jeremiah paused, released his grip on her nipple and once more inspected his work. As if checking a set of shelves he had assembled Jeremiah looked quizzically at the impaled tit, occasionally prodding the soft flesh with a chubby finger. Holly was once again made to feel inhuman as he treated her as an inanimate object, seemingly with no consideration of her feelings whatsoever.

“Very nice,” Jeremiah murmured almost under his breath, “very nice indeed. What do you think Holly? Do you like your tit skewered? Now I’m sure we can get plenty more in there but I think titty number two is starting to feel a bit left out. God didn’t give you two huge melons for me to ignore one. We’re not stopping until both those tits look like porcupines.”

It took Holly a moment to realise what the man had said. He believed in God yet he was revelling in the pain of an innocent girl? With each passing moment this guy got more and more terrifying.

“I’m a Christian man Holly,” Jeremiah said as he bent down to pick up another razor sharp spike, “so when God in his infinite wisdom rewards me with a gift like you to play with I have to respect his wishes. I’m going to praise him by making you scream.”

Jeremiah traced the tip of the spike across Holly’s right breast, searching for the perfect spot to plunge the needle in. He couldn’t get rid of the smirk across his face he was having such a good time. He looked up at the face of the girl he was tormenting, streaked with tears which still flowed from her big brown eyes. What must be going through her head he thought? What did these sluts think about while they were being tortured? It didn’t matter of course; nothing would stop him enjoying himself. But it would be interesting to know what was going through the mind of this innocent teen as she watched her huge boobs get pierced by dozens of needles. Certainly he didn’t think she’d ever imagined she would be in a situation like this. But as his finger pulled on one of those big pale nipples the misery she would surely be feeling spurred him on as he began to push the spike down into these glorious tits.


It seemed like hours had passed before Melissa heard a sound other than the clinking of the chains above her and her own shallow breathing. She had no idea how long she had been hanging there but with the amount her shoulders ached convinced her it had been an age. But as painful and lonely as it had been there the sound of a door opening did not give Melissa any feeling of celebration whatsoever. She knew that whoever was coming in had no intention of rescuing her from this hell. Far more likely, she thought, it was that fat bastard come to torment her as he had done for the last few weeks.

Just over her left shoulder she heard a door slam shut and a set of footsteps moved towards her. The sound of the heels resonated loudly around the room and Melissa couldn’t help but try and catch a glimpse, twisting her head and peering through the darkness. She could hear the footsteps getting closer until they stopped momentarily just behind her. After a slight pause they started again, slowly moving round Melissa until they seemed to pause right in front of her. She desperately tried to peer through the pitch black of the room but she could see nothing, although she could feel the presence in front of her. After a moment of near silence and just as Melissa was about to call out there was a loud clap.

The sudden incandescence blinded the young American and she closed her eyes as tightly as she could. Still though the light burnt through her eyelids and the flash of red light that filled her brain made her think her eyes had been permanently damaged. Slowly though the blinding redness turned a soft pink and Melissa realised it was safe to open her eyes. With the trepidation of a girl who had become used to unspeakable sights and tortures over the last few weeks she slowly opened her eyes.

Standing in front of her was the woman she had met when she had first been brought here, the woman who had poked and probed her like a piece of meat, although this time she was altogether more sinister. The sharp business like suit had been replaced by a tight leather corset which covered her torso from her chest to her navel. Melissa’s eyes were drawn first down beneath the garment, where she could clearly see Greta’s exposed pussy lips. The thigh high boots with huge heels made everything below the neck look terrifying. But it was from the corset up that Greta’s true presence made itself known. Her hair pulled into the tightest of ponytails showed off her prominent cheek bones, with her emerald green eyes staring forward with no emotion whatsoever. Although she was desperate to turn and run out of this place Melissa couldn’t, a combination of the chains that bound her and the mesmerising effect of Greta’s piercing stare kept Melissa exactly where she was, gaze fixed firmly on the woman in front of her.

“Hello there,” Greta said after a minute of staring at her latest plaything. Her voice sent chills through the Melissa’s spine, the reverberation of the dungeon only adding to the sinister tone. “How are you finding your stay here?”

Greta smiled at her own little joke, but only for a moment. Obviously the young American hadn’t enjoyed her stay, hanging from chains by her wrists in a dingy dungeon halfway across the world. Nor would she enjoy what was to come. The girl had to be broken so that when Jeremiah took her home she would be the obedient sex slave he wanted. There was no doubt Jeremiah had tried his best but he didn’t have the experience of Greta. He’d told her that the bitch now hanging in front of her had tried to escape three times; not something Greta would have let any of her slaves even contemplate. This one certainly wouldn’t be going anywhere.

More importantly for Greta though was the girl that stood behind this American bitch. It had only been a few days since Lucy had been brought into her castle but already she was obeying orders like someone who had been there weeks, if not months. Greta could assess a woman’s potential like no other and as soon as she had seen Lucy the girl’s path had become clear. Strong willed, sexually experienced and fiercely independent she was not like the other two that had been brought in along with her. While they would never amount to more than common whores this one Greta could mould into an apprentice and while she may never gain the same sadistic pleasure as her mistress another hand to spread the workload would be most welcome. This would be a true test of how far she had come and how much of the former Lucy still remained.

“Do you know why you are here?” Greta asked, the slight smile gone from her face.

“N…n…no,” Melissa stuttered.


The sound of flesh on flesh erupted around the room, as did the cry of pain from Melissa’s mouth. Her breast bounced wildly as it recovered from the vicious slap Greta had delivered to it.

“You address me as your mistress, slut!” She barked. Her eyes flitted momentarily to Lucy, disappointed to see the girl had winced at the blow to the American’s tit. That kind of weakness would have to be stamped out soon, but she could hardly chastise her new assistant in front of this whore. Lucy had shown she had potential but wincing at this tiny blow was not a good sign and she would have to be punished. First things first though Greta had a job to do, “Do you know why you are here?”

“No, mistress,” Melissa responded, her breast still tingling from the blow.

“You are here because you are a slave.” Greta said, pausing to make sure her words had been absorbed, “But you are a bad slave. Your master says you are disobedient, that he has to discipline you. Is this true?”

“No, mistress,” Melissa answered, for she had been obedient, at least since her last escape attempt. Also, she thought if she admitted to being disobedient she would surely be punished. It didn’t seem to matter though as Greta brought her hand back and then sent it crashing forward, her balled up fist slamming into Melissa’s stomach. All the wind was knocked out of her and all she could do was hang there and gasp desperately for air.

“Are you calling your master a liar cunt? Answer me cunt!”

She tried desperately to answer but she simply had no air in her lungs. Gulping and gasping as if she were suffocating did no good. Even through her tear filled eyes she could see Greta’s piercing stare, her face twisted into an angry snarl. But despite her desperation and even though she knew she would surely be punished Melissa couldn’t say what she had to.

“I said answer me slut! Here,” Greta now spoke for the first time to Lucy, who had been transfixed by Melissa’s struggles. It took her a moment to realise Greta was talking to her but when she did she reacted immediately, anxious to avoid any of the horrible tortures she had already experienced at this sadistic bitch’s hands. Walking on her high heels with the ease of somebody who was well practised she made her way round the hanging, writhing girl and over to her mistress. Greta’s eyes were still fixed on the young American but she directed her orders to Lucy.

“Grab the whore’s nipples.”

Lucy paused for a moment but she knew that she didn’t really have a choice. She simply had to accept that in order to survive she would have to do as she was told and if that meant hurting innocent women then that was what she would have to do. Stepping in front of Greta, conscious of the German’s eyes piercing the back of her head, she paused and stared at Melissa’s breasts. As the blonde struggled for air her sizeable tits jiggled up and down madly.

This was the first time Lucy had really looked at the girl she was to abuse and now she did she realised how beautiful she was. Her golden blonde hair framed a stunningly attractive face, looking every inch the all American beauty. Her body was taut and slender, obviously honed by hours spent in the gym. Her boobs were clearly big even with her hands above her head and Lucy couldn’t help but think how good the girl would have looked under normal circumstances. She was no stranger to finding a woman attractive, indeed she had slept with numerous girls over her short sex life, and in another life Lucy may well have tried to get her hands on that body with the girls consent. Now though she had to use her hands not to give pleasure but to cause pain.

“Now!” shouted an impatient Greta.

Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden loud noise and immediately thrust her hands up to Melissa’s breasts. She closed her thumb and forefinger around the hardened nubs that perfectly topped each pale boob. Lucy kept her eyes fixed firmly on the breasts in her hands, avoiding eye contact with the girl she was about to abuse.

“Twist them,” Greta said calmly, “twist them until I tell you to stop.”

With great reluctance Lucy rolled the nipples between her thumb and forefinger, ensuring she had a good purchase and then, eyes closed, began to twist. Melissa’s breath having just returned Lucy was able to hear the effects of her attentions. What started as a slight moan had, by the time Lucy’s wrists had turned 90°, turned into a high pitched cry. Still the eager to please Lucy didn’t stop and as she continued to turn the cry got louder until it was a full blooded scream.

Melissa felt like her breasts were on fire as her nipples were cruelly twisted. Screaming was the only thing she could do to alleviate the pain. When she had seen the raven haired girl she had imagined she would be gentle, it seemed as though she was reluctant to hurt her, but her treatment was just as savage as Jeremiah. Her eyes were tightly shut as she threw her head back toward the ceiling, shrieking as the pain seemed to spread from her nipples through her breasts and all over her body. Then, even through her screaming, she felt her hair being tugged back and heard a hushed voice in her ear.

“Are you calling your master a liar whore?”


“No? No what!?”

“NOOOOOOO MISTRESSSS!!!” Melissa squealed, tears already running down her cheeks.

“So you were a disobedient slave?”


“You tried to run away from your master?”


“You’re a disobedient slut who needs to be taught a lesson, aren’t you?”


Satisfied with the answer, Greta turned and nodded to Lucy. It was with great relief to both Lucy and Melissa that the teen released her vice like grip on the American’s hardened nipples. Under Lucy’s attention the brown areolas had gone white but now they were free blood rushed back into them, extending Melissa’s pain just a while longer. Finally though the agony dimmed and as Greta released her hair Melissa’s head fell forward, her chest moving up and down as she recovered her breath. Greta walked round back in front of Melissa, forcing Lucy to hop quickly out of the way. The German placed a long finger underneath Melissa’s chin and forced her to look straight at her tormentor.

“Do you understand why you are here now?”

“Y…yes mistress,” Melissa stuttered, petrified by the lack of emotion of in Greta’s eyes.

“And why is that?”

“Because…” Melissa stumbled over the words, still feeling too proud to admit what she was, “because I…I’m a disobedient s…slave, mistress.”

Greta could see how much admitting that had hurt the girl but she tried to keep her pleasure from spilling out, retaining the act she worked so hard to maintain. Jeremiah had told her all about how he had got his slave; she knew the American bitch was proud and intelligent. It would be heart-breaking for her to have to admit she was a slave but that was exactly what Greta wanted her to do. She had known Jeremiah for a long time and had no doubt he had abused this girl in some typically cruel and vicious ways. But for all his enthusiasm he didn’t have the experience or understanding of what it took to mentally break a girl. That was why he had brought his slave to Greta, for that was an area she was a world expert on. And evidence of her ability was stood in this very room.

“A disobedient slave,” Greta repeated slowly, “that is exactly what you are. All you are. You should have learned that already. Today you will learn what you will have to do for the rest of your pathetic life. By the time I’m finished with you you’ll be a perfect sex slave. And you’ll be begging to go back to your master. Are you ready to start your training?”

“Yes mistress,” a stunned Melissa said. Even after all Jeremiah had put her through she had entertained some idea of escape, some chink of light at the end of a long and painful tunnel. But since coming here she had realised that was not going to happen. This wasn’t just some mad old businessman; it was a slick global operation. The hopelessness of her situation began to dawn on her, just as it had for Lucy. What made it worse was that it wasn’t two men here getting ready to torture her. That she could understand for what man wouldn’t want to play with her magnificent body. But two women could only mean this was nothing to do with sex. This was just cruelty, torture and sadism. It would take all her mental strength just to get though with her sanity intact so she stole herself for the test ahead.

“Here,” Greta commanded, and Lucy stepped away from the hanging blonde and followed her new mistress over to the darkness at the back of the room. Greta stood there in the shadows waiting for the tall leggy girl to make her way over.

“Are you ready?” Greta asked, not exactly friendly but significantly less aggressive than when Lucy had first met her.

“Mistress,” Lucy began, speaking to Greta as if she were speaking to any old boss, not the woman who had kidnapped, raped and tortured her and her friends, “what am I…”

“Are you ready to obey?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Melissa could only hang helplessly as her two torturers conspired in the corner. She had no idea what they were planning but given the relish with which the dark haired girl had seemed to violently twist her nipples it was unlikely that they were planning something she’d enjoy. Being with Jeremiah for the better part of a month she was used to what these people were capable of; pure unadulterated cruelty. But this was different. Jeremiah’s tortures had been horrible of course – brutal whippings, beatings and painful bondage – but they had mostly been a prelude to raping her. These two though didn’t seem interested in raping her, only in hurting her. She was amazed any woman could do anything like this to someone of their own sex, particularly with all the hardships women faced out there in the world. But that didn’t seem to bother these two in the slightest. And then they turned around.

“No…no please…” Melissa began when she saw what Greta held in her hand but she was quickly cut off.

“Shut up cunt,” the German snapped angrily as she walked menacingly toward the hanging blonde.

“Please, please I’ll do anything just…”

“I said shut the fuck up!” Greta barked, visibly pissed off.


“Stupid fucking slut,” Greta yelled as she drove her right fist, clenched around her tools for the next torture, hard into Melissa’s solar plexus. Once again the girl’s lungs were emptied of air and she gasped desperately, “how many fucking times do I have to tell you to keep your dirty whore mouth shut? Or do you only understand pain? Maybe we should test that out.”

While Melissa tried to suck some air back into her lungs her eyes were firmly fixed on what Greta was holding. Clenched tightly in her right hand was a large coil of thin copper wire and, even scarier, a pair of shiny new pliers. In the other hand Greta held exactly the same and though Melissa couldn’t be sure what the woman planned to do with them horrible thoughts were now charging through her head, each one seemingly more unpleasant than the last.

Greta took an extra moment to make sure that Melissa had seen what was about to be used on her and then handed one coil of wire and pliers to her assistant. Lucy hesitated for a second but she knew she would have no choice, and so, a little shakily she took the wire and the glistening pliers. Looking at the tool she started to mentally prepare herself for what she was going to have to do to this innocent young woman – whatever it was she was certain it wouldn’t be pleasant. The occasional thought that Holly and Olivia could well be in the same position as this American popped into her head but she got rid of it as soon as it did. This was no time to get depressed about her friends’ predicament; she had to focus on surviving this herself first.

“Right cunt,” Greta began addressing Melissa, “your master told me he loved your tits, but I don’t. And now I’m going to show you just how much I hate them.”

Quick as a flash Greta had the blunt end of the pliers hovering just over Melissa’s nipple, waited a moment so the American realised what was about to happen and then began to slowly close the jaws on the sensitive nub. Lucy watched on with near horror as Melissa’s nipple was squashed between the unmerciful jaws of Greta’s pliers, the ones in her own hand suddenly feeling very heavy. The American had obviously managed to get her breath back for now she began to pant.

“You think that hurts?” Greta said, now squeezing almost as hard as she could, “wait for this bitch!”

Greta gestured with her head and Lucy knew immediately what she had to do. Trying not to think about what she was doing Lucy reached out with the pliers and slowly closed them on Melissa’s breast.


Melissa yelled, trying desperately to deal with the pain as her nipples were cruelly crushed between the menacing jaws of both sets of pliers. The sensitive nubs felt like they were on fire as her flesh was squeezed between the metal, the pale skin of her breasts turning red and contrasting with the shining metal of the tools. She closed her eyes to try and deal with the pain, but Greta wasn’t finished yet.


Said in such a matter of fact way it took Lucy a moment to realise what Greta wanted her to do, and even when she did she hesitated. Twisting the girl’s nipples with her fingers had been difficult enough, but this was something else entirely. She had been on the receiving end of some dreadful torture, seen her friends go through far worse and now she was being asked to inflict it. In the eyes of this poor girl, Lucy was no better than the two Turks who had kidnapped and brutally raped her and her friends just a few days ago. The memories of that, the pain in her arse as she’d been torn apart by Hasan’s huge dick, the horror of watching her friends brutally tortured, all flooded through her mind. She couldn’t do this, no matter the consequences. It was time she took a stand.

Greta sensed the hesitation in her slave but she wasn’t at all surprised. It would be very surprising indeed if after only a few days of training the girl was a willing torturer of this American bitch. She had been pleased with how well Lucy had taken to it thus far but a little hesitation was to be expected. However, it could not be tolerated. The German turned her head slowly and stared at Lucy, meeting the teen’s sultry gaze head on. It didn’t take long.

As if Greta was looking into her very soul the hair on the back of Lucy’s neck stood up – those piercing green eyes filled with so much malice and rage that Lucy knew instinctively she had no choice but to obey. So pushing all those images out of her head she closed her eyes, and twisted.


Melissa’s scream ripped through the room as first one and then the other nipple was cruelly twisted by both sets of pliers. Lucy tried to block out the sound of the American’s tortured cries but such was the ear splitting pitch that proved impossible. Gingerly she opened her eyes, hoping she would get a sign from Greta she could stop and give the poor girl some respite but all she saw was the German’s cruel grin as she delighted in the pain she was causing. Next her eyes flicked down to her own hand, but she could hardly look – Melissa’s breasts were twisted so brutally now that Lucy could almost feel the pain herself.

After what seemed like an age Greta relaxed her grip on the pliers, allowing Lucy to do the same. Still Melissa screamed, the high pitched wail slowly dying down to a whimper as the burning pain transformed into a dull but powerfull ache. Taking Lucy by surprise the German now shot out a hand and grabbed Melissa’s blonde hair, forcing the sobbing American to look her tormentor in the eye.

“Did that hurt cunt?” she spat.

Melissa couldn’t bring herself to say anything, she just sobbed as she looked into the unrelenting eyes of her German tormentor, her breasts throbbing with horrendous pain. A vicious slap to her face brought back out of her almost trance like state.

“I asked you a fucking question cunt,” Greta said ferociously, “did that fucking hurt?”

“Yes mistress,” came the reply.

“Good,” Greta said, genuinely satisfied, “well that was nothing compared to what we’re going to do now.”

Greta held the copper wire in front of the sobbing blonde for a moment then proceeded to unspool a length of it. When around a metre of the shining metal was free from the coil she took the pliers and, sliding the wire down to the bottom of the jaws, cut the metal free. She pressed the metre long wire against Melissa’s chest between her tortured breasts. The German could see her captive trying desperately to figure out what was happening, though she doubted any mind that wasn’t as fucked up as her own would be able to. The next stage happened rapidly.

Quick as a flash Greta looped the wire underneath Melissa’s left breast, then round the top before tightening the hole in the middle. Before the blonde could react her tit was brutally constricted, the wire biting into the soft flesh and already turning the pale globe an angry shade of red. Without stopping to wait for the inevitable scream Greta took the pliers and began to twist the two ends of the wire around themselves, at once securing and tightening the vice like grip that held the Americans’ breast.

Melissa had been too shocked for a moment to react but now she wailed as loud as she could. It wasn’t just that the pain was bad, although it was, for she had endured worse when her nipples had been so viciously twisted. Instead it was the sheer shock of having her breasts bound at the base, the relish with which the sadistic German seemed to work. Her scream echoed around the room, with one of her tormentors smile contrasting with the same of the other.

“One down,” Greta said as she made sure the wire was as tight as she intended, “plenty more to go.”

Lucy stared at Melissa’s breast, already going beyond red to almost purple as the metal bit cruelly into the soft flesh, and she felt sick. Holding the same implements Greta had used in her own hands she already knew what was coming. Taking one glance at Greta confirmed what she had to do, the German’s cold green eyes giving her all the orders she needed. Although every fibre of being was screaming at her not to inflict further pain on this poor, innocent girl she knew she had no choice. And so, with an extremely heavy heart, Lucy began to unspool a length of copper wire.


It seemed a strange scene in this building of horrors as Mehmet walked forward, carrying a barely conscious Olivia almost tenderly in his arms. To any observer unaware of the nature of this place it might seem as if it were just two lovers; one carrying the other sleeping off to bed. That is until the eyes were drawn to Olivia’s nakedness and the trickle of blood running from between her legs. Mehmet strode purposely forward toward the same room he had taken Olivia from before her ‘meeting’ with Greta. It didn’t take him long to reach the door and once he was inside he placed the limp girl down on the bed.

“Wake up,” Mehmet said. He would have liked to have had some fun with her but she was needed upstairs and the Turk couldn’t afford to take too long. When she didn’t respond to his demand he took more direct action. He reached out with one hand and gripped one of Olivia’s perky tits and squeezed, his other hand pulling on her golden hair. This had the desired effect, Olivia’s baby blue eyes shooting open and a moan of pain filling the room.

Olivia had almost passed out from the pain Greta had just put her through and ever since she had been in an almost trance like state. The brutal treatment she had received had left its mark; her pussy was still throbbing in pain. The image of the heated cone with her own flesh on it kept running through her head. Now though she had to react to this latest assault. Snapped out of her slumber she writhed under the cruel touch of the man who had first lured her into this nightmare.

“Wake up,” he said, only loosening his grip on her breast and hair slightly, “you must get ready.”

Mehmet took his hand off one pert breast and reached down to the floor, picking up a damp rag. Olivia didn’t resist as he spread her legs wide but as he touched the cloth against her pussy lips she twitched violently, trying to buck away from his touch. First the Turk simply moved the rag to stay in contact with the girl’s sex but when she moved once again he lost patience. With a look of anger etched on his face he reached around her midriff and pulled her over to him, ignoring her high pitched squeals. He pulled her light frame easily and set her across his knees. Her legs were kicking wildly, the fire that had briefly slipped away from her now back in earnest.

“Keep still,” Mehmet shouted into her ear, “don’t make me hurt you.”

It didn’t happen immediately but slowly Olivia’s struggles did subside. She knew she couldn’t overpower him so trying to stop him doing what he wanted was pointless. She was just as helpless here as she had been when she had first woken in this hellhole, tied up and hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t easy to remain still and leave her exposed to him but it was easier than having to endure a far worse punishment.

Mehmet touched the rag onto Olivia’s leg, running it up the inside to clear away all the blood that had dribbled down. That done, he moved the cloth up higher, touching it gently against her sex. Olivia jumped and squealed once again but Mehmet used his free hand to push her down against his knee and with her fully restrained he could be rougher, aggressively scrubbing her extremely sore cunt. Olivia wailed at this fresh assault, tears once more running down her pretty face. Mehmet though continued unmoved, scrubbing and scrubbing, working the rag inside her tight hole to make sure she was clean for whoever used her next. After a few minutes of good scrubbing he was sure she was clean and finally dropped the rag to the floor and moved Olivia off his knee and onto the bed.

Olivia writhed a little now she was free, her hands covering her throbbing sex. After what Greta had put her through any touch would have been painful to her and Mehmet had shown no mercy to her as he’d cleaned her out. The feelings he had developed toward her did not mean he didn’t want to see her in pain, far from it. One couldn’t have spent as long in this place as he had unless they had a genuine love of watching and inflicting pain. And as a man he obviously appreciated young and beautiful women. So combining both his sadistic tendencies and his love of hot young girls meant this was the perfect place for him to be.

Rather than spare her from pain Mehmet wanted to be the one causing it. But he wanted to go further. He wanted not just to hurt her but to own her. While he had enjoyed breaking many girls over the past few years he now felt it was time for him to have his own girl to do as he liked with. It was as if he had spent months in high school and now he was ready to graduate.

Still now was not the time for these thoughts, he had very little time to get Olivia ready for whatever Greta wanted from her next. Leaving his captive desperately trying to relieve the pain in her groin on the bed he left the room and made his way down the corridor to a store room.

The sound of the door slamming into place made Olivia suddenly look up and she was amazed to see that for the first time since her capture she was alone and unbound. The discovery was enough for Olivia to momentarily forget about the hopelessness of any escape attempt, the myriad of labyrinthine corridors and the locked doors she would find along the way. Even the prospect of brutal punishment if she were caught didn’t seem to cross her mind. All she could think of, in between the jolts of pain, was freedom for her and her friends and for the first time it seemed a faint possibility. And faint was all she had to cling to.

Gritting her teeth to ignore the pain in her groin she got up off the bed and headed toward the door. Grabbing at the door handle with her little hands she twisted, half expecting the whole thing to stay firmly in its place. To her amazement the thing turned so she pulled with all her might and slowly the heavy door began to creak open. Olivia’s heart raced in excitement as she heaved the door open and looked out into the corridor. Poking her head out gingerly she looked left and right, as if waiting to cross a road. The coast was clear. Olivia steadied herself. It was now or never.

With a speed that belied her weakened state she shot out of the room. As soon as she moved the dull pain that racked her body seemed to come alive once more. The impact of her feet on the hard stone sent shudders through her, her fulsome breasts bounced painfully as she galloped down the hallway, and her legs rubbed together on her aching pussy. Olivia gritted her teeth, trying to block the pain out of her mind, and raced down the corridor. Just as she’d gone round the first corner she heard a loud thud behind her.

Mehmet hadn’t had a care in the world as he’d picked up the equipment he’d need to prepare Olivia for her next task. He leisurely went around the storeroom, rummaging through the treasure trove of sex toys and torture implements to find what he was looking for. There was no rush, when he went back into the room he knew Olivia would still be lying naked on that crude bed. After what she had been through he wasn’t at all surprised that most of her earlier fight, that had caused her at one stage to kick him in the face, had left her. Most of the girls that came through here gave up pretty quickly; even the feistiest bitches quickly mellowed after a few hours with Greta.

Spying the last item he needed he gathered it into his arms then made his way back over to the heavy door of the storeroom. Opening it with ease he stepped out leisurely into the corridor. It was then that he saw a flash of gold to his left.

It took a moment to dawn on him what had happened. But a quick Erzincan Escort glance across the corridor at the door of the room he had left Olivia, now flung wide open, told him everything he needed to know. It had been the girl’s blonde hair that had flashed across his vision. The bitch was trying to escape. Without hesitation he dropped what he was carrying and sprinted after her.

The sound of the door slamming signalled to Olivia that Mehmet had exited the storeroom and no doubt had discovered his captive was missing. But the fact he was surely hot on her heels made no difference to the desperate teen. With no idea where she was going Olivia just kept running down the corridor, hoping if she kept going eventually her path would become clear. Not once did she look back; if she had she would have seen Mehmet chasing some distance behind but gaining all the time.

For anybody watching it would have been a sight for sore eyes. Olivia ran with the stylish grace of somebody who had practiced extensively. Her golden locks flowed behind her, full breasts bouncing delightfully and toned peachy arse swaying side to side. Olivia though had no concern about how glorious she looked; escape was the only thing on her mind.

For Mehmet the situation was not quite as desperate or bleak but still he was sprinting after the escaping girl. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t get out; there were a myriad of corridors and most of the doors were locked. But if Greta were to discover that he had been so careless he dreaded to think what the consequences would be. For obvious reasons employees could not simply be dismissed from this place. He was then just as desperate to get her back quickly as she was to get away. He was full on sprinting down the corridor but he was surprised that he barely seemed to be gaining on her, only seeing glimpses of her pert bottom and golden hair. She was fit and fast, but the longer she eluded him the more he would make her pay.

Still thundering down the corridors Olivia was now looking desperately for a way out. She wished she had paid attention when she had been taken upstairs to see Greta; having just some idea where she was going would have been a huge help now. The corridors seemed to be the same, endless and identical, so Olivia would just have to get lucky. She rounded another corner. Straight ahead was a large wooden door, the same as all the others. With no turn off though Olivia would have to try it.

She crashed full on into the door and grasped desperately for the handle. To her horror it was no use. She pushed the door as hard as she could, turned the handle as much as she could, but the door wouldn’t budge. She remembered how when she had been led out of the basement the door had been unlocked electronically. There would be no way of getting through. Disheartened but determined she turned and ran back the way she’d come.

Seeing the backside of the girl as she flew down what he knew to be a dead end Mehmet couldn’t help but smile. There was no way out and in just a matter of moments he would have the bitch under control once again. Even before he’d got that lithe body in his grasp he was thinking about how he would punish her impertinence. Of course his punishments would be as nothing compared to Greta’s when she found out one of her new slaves had tried to escape; she prided herself on the obedience of the girl’s she captured and the behaviour of this particular slave would not be tolerated. That thought made the smile on Mehmet’s face wider as he approached the corridor.

Olivia emerged at full speed back onto the main corridor and was immediately thrown to the floor. No sooner had she emerged from the little dead end had 200lbs of muscled Turk crashed into her, knocking every last breath of air out of her lungs. The impact with the hard floor was extremely painful and Olivia would have cried out if she wasn’t struggling so badly to breathe. She was pinned against the floor by Mehmet’s body, gasping like a goldfish to get some air into her lungs. The poor girl knew already her escape attempt would be punished severely.

Having successfully tackled his blonde captive Mehmet immediately set about teaching the bitch a lesson. He lifted his body weight off her while she still tried desperately to suck some air into her lungs, and then unfurled a savage punch. His fist landed squarely in Olivia’s toned midriff sending shockwaves of pain throughout her little body. She gasped desperately at the air, the two blows having knocked everything out of her. Mehmet though was not going to stop there. Easily outmuscling the desperately struggling body beneath him he straddled her, pinning her arms above her head and holding her wrists together with one giant hand. Then he slapped her brutally across the face.

Still unable to cry out Olivia could only lie there and take the blow. Such was the ferocity of the strike stars circled round her vision and already the side of her face was turning red. Mehmet didn’t let up. With the back of his hand this time he struck the other side of Olivia’s face, a blow just as savage as the first. He was about to slap her a third time when he stopped; if her face was too badly bruised Greta wouldn’t be happy. Instead he grabbed a clump of her golden hair and pulled her face to his.

“You try to run from me whore!?” The enraged Turk screamed right into Olivia’s face, showering her reddening cheeks with saliva, “Stupid cunt! After mercy I have shown you!? You suffer now!”

Mehmet’s rage overtook him again and he brought his knee back before crashing it forward with tremendous force into Olivia’s crotch. She hadn’t understood what he meant by mercy but it didn’t matter now. The blow sent a shudder through the teen and she screamed afresh at the blinding pain coming from her red raw cunt. Seemingly satisfied with this immediate retribution for her disobedience he levered himself off of the helpless girl leaving her lying prone and sobbing on the cold stone floor. Then with one giant hand he reached down, grabbed a fistful of Olivia’s hair and yanked the girl up to her feet mercilessly.

“Up cunt!” he shouted, almost pulling the blonde hair of his captive clean out of her scalp. Olivia offered no resistance or assistance; she was merely pulled to her feet and then dragged along the corridor. Mehmet paced ferociously back the way he had come – dragging the wheezing, sobbing girl behind him like a ragdoll. While she desperately tried to recover her breath she stumbled along,

Fuelled by pure rage Mehmet stormed down the twisting maze of corridors. It was a ridiculous looking scene – a man well over six foot dragging a small sobbing blonde down a stone corridor, her ample breasts jiggling tantalisingly with each laboured step. The Turk’s face was literally contorted with anger as he marched. After the mercy he had shown this girl that was how she repaid him, by putting his life in danger. Sure he had raped and tortured her when she had first got here but if she knew what happened to some of the girls here she would have been grateful for his relative tenderness. He had seen Greta almost kill a girl once she had been so brutal. And as for Olivia’s big titted friend – even Mehmet shuddered to think what horrors she was being subjected to. And still this ungrateful cunt tried to escape from him.

Finally they reached the door from which Olivia had bolted and Mehmet, hand still wrapped in her luscious blonde hair, unceremoniously tossed his captive inside. Olivia tumbled to the ground, her little body slamming hard into the cold stone floor. She stayed where she was, curling up into a little ball as if somehow that would save her from whatever was to come. Mehmet was in no mood to spare her though.

With a typically sadistic smile painted on his face he reached out with both giant hands and gripped the sensitive pale nipples that tipped each of Olivia’s perky boobs. He grabbed the pliant flesh and stared into Olivia’s sapphire blue eyes as he slowly twisted the little nubs. A tear welled up in each eye but the teen stood defiantly; not wanting to make a sound to satisfy this monster. Annoyed at her inner strength Mehmet squeezed harder, twisting until eventually his victim couldn’t help but whimper and then shriek in pain.

Mehmet was pleased with the reaction, especially after she’d tried to defy him. When he’d first seen this pint sized princess in the bar with her two gorgeous friends he felt he’d sized them up almost immediately. Sure, he’d expected they might have a bit of trouble with the tall stuck up bitch but the other two, this little blonde bitch and big titted slut, he had imagined would be submit like so many other women that had gone through this place. And yet somehow this cunt was still fighting. Even after all she’d already been through she continued to defy him. The only consolation was that as long as she failed to obey he’d be able to make her life a living hell.

Much to her relief Mehmet finally released his vice like grip on Olivia’s tits and continued with preparing her for her next task. With her arms tied behind her back Olivia was completely at his mercy and Mehmet was able to work quickly and easily. Throwing the girl face first onto the bed he grabbed a ring gag and Olivia reluctantly opening her mouth as he secured it behind her head.

The next thing Mehmet took was a sort of balaclava, a piece of thick black fabric with just one hole in the middle. Olivia stared open mouthed at Mehmet as he grabbed her roughly by the hair and forced the balaclava over her head. Still struggling she shook her head frantically but the Turk was too strong and he forced the tight fabric over the blonde’s head.

As soon as it was over her eyes Olivia was plunged into semi darkness, barely able to make out the shape of her rapist in front of her. With the garment over her head none of Olivia’s pretty face was visible, the only hole in it allowing access to her gagged mouth and with the elasticated bottom cinching tight around her neck. Pleased Mehmet ran his hand over the girl’s taught toned stomach, over her hairless labia and slipped her finger inside her hot dry cunt.

“Little whore,” Mehmet whispered right in her face as Olivia gasped at the intrusion, “are you ready to suck and fuck?”

Olivia could do nothing but moan as Mehmet began to pump his finger in and out of her much abused pussy.

“Many men going to fuck you,” the Turk continued, “fuck your cunt, fuck your ass, fuck your mouth. Little slut getting wet just thinking about all those fat cocks inside you.”

Mehmet smiled as he felt the first drops of response from Olivia’s tight pussy, never ceasing to be amazed at how these girls could still get aroused despite everything that had been done to them. Before he had come into this place he had hardly had the greatest respect for women, bedding as many of the young ladies of Munich as possible pretty indiscriminately. But he had never thought women were as slutty as the bitches they brought in to the castle. They could be beaten, tortured and raped for days on end and still, just like this blonde girl beneath him, they would respond to even the slightest tender touch, lubricating themselves ready for the next round. It was hard to have any sympathy for a girl who didn’t have any self respect or self control.

Olivia though felt shame at the response from her sex, although of course there was nothing she could do about it. It was a perfectly natural response. So as Mehmet leered and pumped his fingers in and out of her tender hole there was nothing Olivia could do but let the natural urge of her body take control.

As Olivia got wetter Mehmet had a strong, almost overwhelming urge to plunge his prick into her slick twat and rape the bitch as brutally as possible as punishment for her wretched disobedience. But he had wasted too much time already, and he didn’t want to arouse any further suspicion – if Greta saw his carelessness in almost allowing a captive to escape he shuddered to think what she would do.

“Up!” he shouted at his captive as he forcefully pulled her up to her feet and, with characteristic brutality, frogmarched her out the door.


Jeremiah stepped back to admire his handiwork, a broad smile now etched permanently on his face. Staring back at him was either a picture of abject misery and cruelty or a beautiful and erotic artwork, depending on the point of view. Jeremiah certainly fell into the latter camp. He had spent the last thirty minutes painstakingly inserting spike after spike into Holly’s mountainous breasts and he now looked on at the mess of metal and flesh with all the pride of an artist in front of his masterpiece. And much like an artist he had enjoyed every second of the creative process; the squeals from his muse each time he had pierced her skin, the gentle resistance of her tit flesh as he pushed the spikes through, the small rivulets of blood that ran across the pale landscape of her chest and, perhaps most of all, her wide tear filled eyes as she looked on helpless to stop the torture.

Of course he had stopped frequently to belittle the girl, telling her she was nothing more than a worthless cunt, a painslut for him to do whatever he wanted with. He enjoyed this almost as much as the physical pain he inflicted on her. He wanted her to believe it, to think she was as pathetic and insignificant as he knew she was. Staring down at the nearly 50 spikes he had forced into her massive tits and the look of resignation on her pretty face he was sure he had succeeded.

“Well that was hard work, Holly,” Jeremiah said, the only other sound in the room the occasional drop of blood falling to the floor, “but see how beautiful it looks. I told you those tits were just made to be impaled and we got almost fifty in! I’ve done this with a lot of bitches and a lot of titties but none of those cunts ever gave me as much tit meat to play with as you.”

Finally Jeremiah tore his eyes away from Holly’s bleeding tits to look at the face of the girl he had tormented for over an hour now. With her head tied to the metal bar it could not hang down, although with the spikes sticking up this was probably just as well, and so the beleaguered teen was forced to look straight ahead.

Staring at the tear streaked cheeks of his captive Jeremiah felt nothing but pleasure. Not a single cell in his body was moved at the suffering of the poor girl. He felt no empathy, no remorse, not even pity. When he looked at her he didn’t see a human being, a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. He saw only the potential to enjoy himself and if that came at her expense then all the better. As he looked deep into her hazel eyes, glistening with tears and clearly showing the pain she was in, he couldn’t help but grin.

The thoughts of her captor towards her were about the furthest thing from Holly’s mind. True she would have liked to have known them had there been a flicker of mercy so she could attempt to bargain with him but she knew by now no such flicker existed. She had given up on any hope that this monster might have pity on her and stop his sadistic torture. Her stretched and aching pussy, throbbing beaten arse and bruised and bloodied tits all told her that this man had no regard for her body or for her. It had been made abundantly clear that as long as she was in this room she was nothing more than a toy for him to do as he wanted with.

Even had she not been bound tightly to the metal frame she would have been unable to do anything to escape, not with him and the obedient woman at her back. The only course of action left to her was to endure and wait for help, so she simply stared straight ahead in anticipation of the next torture that awaited her.

“Tit meat,” Jeremiah said as if he had just been given an idea, “that’s what you are. All those skewers in your fat tits you look like a side of beef ready for the BBQ. Just imagine how much you’d squeal if we roasted your titties in a fire. I bet your screams would go all the way to England? Does that sound good Holly?”

Jeremiah salivated at the prospect and his words had the desired effect on his tortured captive. Holly had gone from being in a sort of trance, distracted only by the throbbing of her pain racked body, to being very aware of what was being said to her. Whilst Jeremiah’s prattling on about how she was nothing more than a worthless pair of tits had quickly become water off a ducks back to her suddenly she was terrified once again. This man’s cruelty had so far known no bounds and from what she had seen she wouldn’t put it past him to do any of the things he had just described. Her mind flashed with the roar of the flames and the sheer agony as her breasts were plunged into the fire. More tears began to stream down her face as she once more begged her captor.

“Please Sir I please don’t do…”

“Shut the fuck up you miserable slut!” Jeremiah spat, apparently annoyed at Holly simply for answering his question, “You think your pathetic begging would stop me doing that? No, your mewling has no affect whatsoever. But I won’t do that. As much fun as it would be it would be very selfish wouldn’t it? Then nobody else would be able to have fun with those monster tits. God didn’t put you here just for me to torture you. He wants as many people to enjoy play with you as possible. So don’t worry, we won’t be roasting your tits. But it would be a shame not to give those puppies a little taste of what it would feel like wouldn’t it?”

Jeremiah reached into his pocket and produced a huge zippo lighter, the silver glinting brightly in the light of the dungeon. Holly could do nothing as he took a step forward and flicked open the lighter, placing his thumb on the wheel which was used to ignite it. Also watching with concern was the woman who had remained mute throughout Jeremiah’s skewering of the girl’s breasts, not reacting at all throughout all her screams and whimpers. Now though she watched with trepidation. His previous threat to almost burn the girl alive she had known would never happen; the man was under strict orders to not cause any permanent physical damage to the girl. She was concerned that he’d been caught up in the moment, potentially forgetting that he wasn’t to harm Greta’s assets permanently.

However, despite her concern it was not her place to question these men and women who paid huge sums of money to do this sort of thing to these poor girls. Any form of insubordination towards this man would surely result in just one thing; her taking this teen’s place. So all she did was watch on as he flicked the lighter and a large flame burst upwards.

“Look Holly,” Jeremiah said, waving the lighter around in front of the tormented teen to make sure she saw the flickering flame, “how big it is. Can you feel the heat? I think it’s time to give those fat English tits a good old fashioned American barbeque!”

Jeremiah had held the lighter up close to Holly’s cheek so the girl could feel exactly the sort of heat her breast was to be exposed to but now he moved on to the main event. Slowly, menacingly, he brought his hand down toward Holly’s chest. With his eyes almost permanently fixed on hers, only flicking down occasionally to check the flame was in the right place, he placed the lighter just underneath one of the spikes jutting out from one meaty globe.

He wanted to drink in the reaction on her pretty face as she began to feel her breast heat up from the inside. It didn’t take long. Holly’s usually wide eyes suddenly took on a new dimension, widening even further as the effect of Jeremiah’s attentions began to take hold. A smile crept across the old man’s face and he kept his hand still, the flame of the lighter flicking around the shining metal.

Holly had known what was coming as soon as she had seen the lighter and when she had felt the heat on her face she had been in no doubt that it was going to hurt. But knowing what was coming didn’t make it any less painful when it arrived. As Jeremiah moved his hand back down toward her breasts Holly’s body was already moaning in pain; her arse was still throbbing, her shoulders were beginning to cramp, her pussy still tingled and her breasts ached badly.

It took a moment for the effect of Jeremiah’s activities to make itself known, the warming of one of the spikes in her breast at first barely indistinguishable from the pain her chest felt anyway. But her eyes went wide when she began to feel it. It was an unmistakeable feeling but one that seemed totally alien as a heat began to emanate from within her body. If it wasn’t for the fact the source of the warmth was a metal spike that had been rammed through her flesh the experience might just have been pleasant but unfortunately for Holly this was not the case. Her widening eyes indicated that the heat had progressed from gentle warmth to uncomfortable and Jeremiah smiled as Holly began to breathe more heavily.

“Is it starting to get a bit hot?” Jeremiah asked teasingly, “You just tell me when it starts to hurt OK?”

It was starting to hurt. The first pang of pain had come from deep within her breast, only slight at first but not diminishing. As it grew stronger it felt like when she touched her hand against the stove, only she couldn’t pull her breast away. By now her heavy breathing had turned into a sort of pained mewling as the heat began to spread across her entire breast. Holly gritted her teeth and Jeremiah licked his lips as he watched the poor teen desperately try to escape, her futile attempts doing nothing but amuse him. Struggling against her bonds did nothing to relieve her pain for despite the evidence of her muscles rippling beneath her skin she stayed bound and motionless. Her proud skewered breasts were immune to her efforts; sitting on her chest for Jeremiah to do with as he wanted. After a few moments more he finally got what he’d been waiting for.


It was just the sound Jeremiah had been waiting for and he savoured it as it echoed around the room. Holly’s pretty face contorted into a grotesque open mouthed grimace may have been less attractive for most men but for Jeremiah she looked perfect. How anybody could prefer the look of a woman that wasn’t in pain was beyond him. The only reason he could think was that they hadn’t experienced it for if they had surely they would be doing exactly the same as him for this was heaven on earth.

Indeed Holly’s screaming was so beautiful he wished he could just keep the heat on this spike until it was literally cooking the cunt’s tit. Alas he could not. Looking down at her breast he could see the skin around the skewer turning a bright red and he knew he had to turn off the heat. Of course he was allowed to put the girl through hell but he couldn’t permanently ruin her – Greta still had plenty of use for her. So, reluctantly, he moved the lighter away.

Even after Jeremiah had stopped applying the flame Holly was screaming as the hot spike of metal embedded in her breast continued to radiate its torturous heat. With the flesh of her breast acting as an insulator the spike continued to torment Holly, her squealing evidence of the pain Jeremiah had put her through. Just as her screams began to die down and the metal cooled just slightly Holly could feel another tingling; a feeling she already knew wasn’t going to be pleasant. Jeremiah had simply moved the flame a couple of inches until it flickered round another of the spikes driven into Holly’s tit. No sooner had one spike begun to cool down another was heating up. After just a short pause Holly once again opened her mouth to scream.

“That’s it bitch,” Jeremiah said with his broad smile still painted on, “Have a good old scream while I roast your udders. It won’t help you but I love hearing it. Now let’s get the other tit nice and hot.”

He chuckled loudly, although the sound of his laughter was drowned out by the sheer volume of Holly’s screams. Over the next few minutes he continued to heat the spikes that were driven deep into her sensitive flesh, giving the poor girl almost no respite whatsoever. Every one of the spikes was given a lick of the flame so that every square inch of Holly’s magnificent tit was agonisingly painful. Jeremiah had kept the flame on each spike for just the right amount of time, not long enough to scar her young skin too badly but plenty long enough to get the desired reaction.

For Holly it was pure hell, the heat driving her wild with pain. Unable to get away there was nothing she could do to reduce the agony except scream at the top of her lungs. She screamed so loudly she couldn’t hear Jeremiah’s chuckling but even if she had it would barely have registered for all that filled her head was pain. Pain was now the norm for her but that didn’t make it any easier for the poor girl to take. So intense was the pain she was barely conscious when Jeremiah took the lighter away and looked at her, his smile broader than ever.

“How was that slut?” He asked cheerfully, “Was it as good for you as it was for me? I bet boys have been telling you how hot your tits are ever since you grew them. Now they’re right! I bet that tit’s really damn hot now isn’t it? Do you know what’s next, Holly? That’s right baby. It wouldn’t be fair to leave the other tit out would it?”

Jeremiah laughed heartily as he traced his finger in between the spikes jutting out of Holly’s other breast. Her skin was warm to the touch but it was about to get a whole lot hotter. As he moved across the skewered globe a tear ran down Holly’s neck and splashed down on the taut skin of her breast. It certainly wasn’t the last tear she would shed because of him, a thought which made his cock twitch in his pants. Torturing the bitch had made him hot as hell and he couldn’t go much longer without a release. Before he could do that though he had to make Holly scream again. So with the smile still painted across his face he flicked the lighter open once more.


Jeremiah repeated the process on Holly’s other breast. He was painstakingly thorough; making sure every single one of the myriad of spikes had been given a liberal tickling with the flame. Watching the flame lick each metal spine could have been quite therapeutic and relaxing were it not for the anguished screams of the poor girl whose tits they were embedded.

Of all the tortures Holly had endured over the previous few days this was the most prolonged pain she had ever experienced. The moments of rest bite were so fleeting and the pain so intense Holly felt she would go insane. Her mind was no longer filled with the question of how anybody could do this to somebody for every ounce of energy was consumed by the agony of having her huge breasts burnt from the inside.

It felt like it had gone on for hours when Jeremiah finally took the lighter away from the last of the metal spikes and extinguished the flame. He would have loved to have kept going with this exquisite torture but his cock ached so much now he couldn’t wait. Waiting a few moments before speaking Jeremiah savoured the sounds as Holly’s screams died down into a soft sobbing whimper.

“Oh wow,” Jeremiah said satisfied, “I’ve had plenty of barbeques in my time but gee, that’s got to be the finest I ever had. Isn’t cultural exchange a wonderful thing, eh Holly? Now how are those titties feeling? They’re bound to be pretty painful by now.”

Holly didn’t respond to this fresh humiliation, instead, with the burning pain in her breasts barely dying down at all, she continued to sob.

“Shhhhhhh,” Jeremiah said as he reached out and stroked Holly’s wet cheek, “stop your crying Holly. I mean it; if you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll burn your juicy tits all over again.”

Holly desperately fought to stop sobbing for she knew she couldn’t go through that all over again. Fighting back the tears was incredibly hard; such was the pain that tore through her young body. Yet if she had learned anything over the previous few days of hell it was that when she was given an order it was in her best interests to obey without any delay whatsoever. So after just a few sniffles and blinking away the last few tears, Holly opened her eyes to stare at her tormentor once again.

“Good girl,” Jeremiah said, surprised and slightly disappointed the sobbing bitch had managed to stop crying, “you’re learning to do as you’re told, like a good little slave. What are you Holly?”

“A slave, Sir,” she replied despondently, the harsh reality of those words more than apparent to her.

“That’s right, nothing but a sex slave. You’re good for nothing but sex and the playing we’ve been doing. And after all that playing I think it’s time for a little sex. Abusing those big tits has made this old dog plenty horny and I want to fuck something. Can you guess what I’m going to fuck?”

“Me, Sir?”

“Well of course you, you stupid slut. But which part of that lovely young body is going to make a nice home for my cock?”

Holly thought about her answer for a moment. She wasn’t sure whether this man was making her choose how she wanted to be raped or if she had to guess what he was thinking; either way it was terribly degrading. She would have talk about herself like she really was what he had made her describe herself as. The truth was beginning to dawn on her though. Regardless of how much she wished she wasn’t the evidence of the previous few days was pretty hard to refute. She had been raped and tortured repeatedly all while being treated like an animal. Everything that had happened suggested she was indeed what they all thought she was; a sex slave. With a heavy heart she answered the question how she thought he wanted her to.

“My p…my cunt, Sir?”

“Oooooh nice suggestion, Holly you little whore. I bet that tight teen pussy would be a wild ride. You’d love it too wouldn’t you, now you’ve got the taste for cock you just can’t get enough. But I can get young cunt anywhere, I don’t even have to find a slave like you. The world is full of sluts who can’t wait to fuck a rich old man. So having come all the way here, halfway across the world, I’d prefer something a little rarer. Guess again.”

“My…arse, Sir?” Holly responded, her mind filled with the memory of her earlier anal rapes.

“’Arse’,” Jeremiah chuckled at the English pronunciation, “I bet all you English girls love taking it in the ‘arse’ don’t you? And your chute would be a nice tight fit wouldn’t it. But unfortunately for you it’s not your ass I’ma be fucking. Last try. What am I gonna fuck?”

“My…my tits…” Holly murmured, desperately hoping he would say no.

“Bingo!” Jeremiah said excitedly, “I’m gonna slide my cock right between those big fat udders and give them the fucking of their life. I can’t do that though without taking all those spikes out. We wouldn’t want me to get a nasty cut would we?”

Jeremiah had suddenly lost patience with tormenting Holly, saying he was going to titfuck her had made him anxious to get started. So it was with very little subtlety that he gripped one of the spikes between his thumb and forefinger and yanked it out. He worked quickly, ignoring Holly’s yelps of pain as the metal was pulled from her breasts, rubbing against the sensitive burnt flesh.

As for Holly she didn’t know what to think; to focus on the immediate pain or think about just how much it would hurt when the monster had his cock between her breasts. After all they had been through already she imagined it would be agony. It wouldn’t be long till she would find out as one magnificent breast had already been emptied of spikes. Before long both globes were free and, though bruised and streaked with tiny rivulets of blood, were back to their glorious position.

“Beautiful,” Jeremiah said, then as if to test their sensitivity gave one a slight squeeze. The moan of pain from his captive was evidence enough that she wouldn’t enjoy the much rougher treatment he was about to give her, “lean her back so I can get at them tits.”

Having been forced to watch uninvolved the woman standing behind Holly finally had something to do. It had been difficult to watch as Jeremiah had burnt and pierced the poor girl’s breasts but she couldn’t intervene. Now she had to get the girl in position for the old man to get his rocks off. All in a day’s work. It didn’t take long to get Holly into the position Jeremiah wanted; a 45 degree angle sloping backwards and lower to the ground.

As she clunked the frame into position Holly’s magnificent breasts jiggled tantalisingly like great mounds of jelly. Growing up in the Far East she had seen very few women with breasts like this girl and though she had seen plenty of impressive racks whilst working here the ones wobbling in front of her were the most perfect pair she had ever laid eyes on. They should have been a blessing for the poor girl but whilst she had been here they had brought her nothing but pain and misery. Finally she undid the strap holding the girl’s head so she would be able to watch what was about to happen. Having positioned Holly the woman looked up to see a now naked Jeremiah waddling towards her.

As the big American had struggled to remove his pants his rock hard cock had sprung out as if it had a mind of its own. It was going to be difficult not to cum as soon as he slid his prick between Holly’s soft mounds but he would try and enjoy the feeling for as long as he could. He poured himself another glass of milk, the fact that it had been squeezed from a woman barely registering this time. Hydrated and ready for action he turned round and made his way toward the centre of the room.

As he approached he couldn’t help but smile once again. Despite being stretched out and lying at an angle Holly’s perfect breasts still jutted out magnificently. Where most pairs of tits that size might have sagged down and fallen to the side, getting caught in the armpit, Holly’s stayed high and proud as if begging to be groped and fondled. If he didn’t know better he would have assumed they must have been fake but no surgeon could have sculpted something so majestic. Jeremiah stared at the cleft between them where he was about to rest his cock and salivated. Heaving first one tree trunk leg then the other he stepped over the bar that held the girl’s knees and positioned himself so he was astride her midriff.

“See how hard you’ve made me Holly?” Jeremiah said cheerfully, “I’m about ready to blow. You teasing little bitch, bout time you got what you’ve been begging for since you came to see me. Shall we see how sensitive those tits are first?”

Gently at first Jeremiah reached out with his hands and planted them on Holly’s globes, slick with blood, sweat and tears. When Holly winced at just his first gentle touch Jeremiah was spurred on to go harder. With his trademark cruelty he dug his stubby fingers into the sensitive and abused flesh. Holly’s screams and wails changed slightly in tone as he ripped at her monster tits as if he were playing the world’s most macabre musical instrument. He couldn’t wait any longer and shuffled forward. The head of his cock, glistening with precum, slid up Holly’s toned midriff and, finally, in between her glorious breasts.

“Squeeze them together!” Jeremiah ordered his assistant. She obliged and walked round behind Holly, then reached and placed the palm of hand at the side of each breast. She pushed together, the weight of the globes surprising her, and watched as they totally enveloped Jeremiah’s cock. As he felt the heat of her tits all around his dick Jeremiah moaned with delight before pushing his hips slowly forward. Like a groundhog poking out its head from his burrow Jeremiah’s dick emerged from the soft home of Holly’s chest.

“Would you look at that,” Jeremiah exclaimed, “your tits have gobbled up my cock. They’re desperate to get fucked aren’t they!?”

Another slide backwards and thrust forwards followed, as did another moan of pleasure. Jeremiah was in pure ecstasy as he moved his dick between the wonderful mounds, doubtful if any man had ever experienced anything better. The feeling of this bitch’s tits on his sensitive cock was heavenly. This is what women were for he thought. Nobody could ever tell him this English cunt should be allowed to roam the streets when she could be here, tied up and servicing his cock. She belonged here and so did he.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her, the sight of his cock emerging from her cleavage almost making him blow his load right there. Hands outstretched he grabbed hold of Holly’s pigtails and yanked her head forward so she was forced to look down at her chest.

“God that feels incredible,” he moaned, “Watch it whore, watch me fuck your tits. You like it don’t you, slut? You love how my cock feels sliding between your udders. Open that mouth bitch, lick my dick.”

Holly obliged as her head was yanked painfully down. With her breasts cupped and pushed upward and her head pulled down Holly’s face was almost resting on her sumptuous globes. A particularly vicious thrust pushed the tip of his cock up through the channel in her breasts and ran up Holly’s tongue and into her mouth. This new sensation, her warm wet tongue against his sensitive cockhead, sped up his thrusts. His hands gripped the teen’s pigtails so hard his knuckles were white and as the ferocity of his thrusts increased so the sheen of sweat that had covered his body turned into a torrent. He was panting now, extremely out of breath, but he didn’t relent for a moment.

“Squeeze those tits!” He roared, the woman obliging immediately. She stretched out her perfectly manicured nails as far around Holly’s massive breasts as she could then, using all the strength in her long fingers, squeezed into the soft flesh. Considering the treatment they’d had the woman had no doubt how much pain her touch caused the poor girl but it was not her concern. Instead she focused on obeying her orders.

As well as pushing the giant mounds together and pulling them high she dug her fingernails into the pliant globes. She tried to ignore the pain it would be causing the teenager, as well as the sweating panting hulk of a man on top of her, but instead tried to enjoy the sensation. She may have been conflicted about hurting the girl but the firm yet forgiving flesh of her breasts did feel good. Although far from smiling the woman did get a slight pang of satisfaction as she sank her fingertips deep into each glorious mound.

Holly’s gasp in pain at this new rougher treatment was drowned out completely by the noises around her. The sound of Jeremiah’s exertions, the squelching as he forced his prick backwards and forwards and the general moaning of the young girl were all loud enough that this new scream barely registered. But as she once again felt the cockhead slide into her mouth the pain was no less intense. Her burned, skewered and battered breasts throbbed agonisingly with each thrust as his hips slammed into her jiggling boobs. All the poor girl could do was endure the torture and hope, pray, that once his lust was sated so would his appetite for sadistic torture.

“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” Jeremiah barked, although nobody was listening to him, “Get ready for a load slut, it’s coming…AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

The first wad of jism came shooting out just as Jeremiah’s cock emerged from its soft warm channel. The glob of thick white liquid landed right in one of Holly’s brown eyes, covering most of one side of her face. Jeremiah continued to roar with pleasure as he shot load after load across first Holly’s face then, as the intensity of his orgasm began to subside, drops all across Holly’s glorious tits.

Even the woman, who had seen so many orgasms in her life, was surprised by just how much sperm the old man had produced. Most of Holly’s face was obscured by semen and even her monster breasts had a very decent covering, growing all the time as the cum on her face dribbled onto her chest. After just a few moments Jeremiah regained his composure and looked down at his work. He let go of Holly’s hair and, sliding his cock out of her slippery breasts, stepped back slightly. Holly’s head went back to its previous position, resting on the frame and hoping the ground would swallow her up.

“Fuck me, that was unbelievable!” Jeremiah exclaimed, still panting heavily, “That was the best titfuck I ever had. You loved it too didn’t you slut?”

When Holly didn’t answer immediately Jeremiah unleashed a vicious slap to the underside of Holly’s tit, sending droplets of cum flying through the air. Holly squealed loudly at the force of the slap, then screamed even louder when Jeremiah gripped both of her nipples and twisted them ferociously.

“You loved that didn’t you!?”

“Yeeeeeesssssss, Sssssssiiiiiirrrrrrrr!” Holly just about managed to string together through the pain.

“You love getting your fat tits fucked don’t you?”

“Yeeessssss, Ssssssiiiirrrrr!”

“And do you love it when your face is covered in cum?”

“Yeeeeessssss, Sssssiiiiiirrrrr!”

Satisfied with the answer Holly had given him Jeremiah slowly released his grip on the girl’s breasts. He could see where her most recent tears had just washed some of the cum out of her eyes but the majority of her face was still coated in it. The way the cum pooled over her innocent features, her lashes stuck together with goop, would have made a much younger Jeremiah hard all over again but for now he just had to content himself with torturing the buxom babe. Of course that’d get him in the mood like nothing else on earth and then he’d be ready to fuck the bitch all over again.

He released the grip of his forefinger and thumb on Holly’s large pink nipples, letting her breasts fall jiggling back to their usual position. He motioned to his assistant with one hand and she disappeared toward the back of the room. Obviously it was to retrieve something, something Holly was certain would be used to worsen her pain. Having almost regained his breath Jeremiah leaned in once again to speak to his cum covered toy.

“I’m glad,” Jeremiah said, “because now you’ve learned your place you’re gonna have load after load all over that pretty little whore face. You’ll have guys queueing up to cum all over you; over your face, in your cunt, your ass and those massive titties. I bet you’re looking forward to it aren’t you?”

“Y…yes, Sir,” Holly replied through the tears and cum.

“Would you like to see Holly? Should I show you what your face will look like for the rest of your miserable life?”

Holly was just about to agree once more when she saw the choice had already been made for her. The woman had emerged from the back of the dungeon and handed what she had retrieved over to Jeremiah. If it were not for what he had said to her just moments ago Holly would have been confused but she knew exactly what he planned to do with the handheld mirror he now held aloft. As soon as he realised Holly had worked it out he turned the mirror round, so the shiny side was facing him, and held it up in front of Holly’s face.

“Time for the slut to see herself.”

Jeremiah turned the mirror and Holly gasped. She had of course seen herself many times in the mirror but never before had she looked like this. For the first time in her captivity she was able to look into her own eyes, or at least she would have if one wasn’t glued shut. Thick white cum almost completely covered her face and the bits of skin that were visible were red from crying and slapping.

As Holly looked back into her reflection she barely recognised herself; the girl staring back at her looked like a porn star not the innocent teenager she had been before. But Holly knew it was her and that this was what they had reduced her to. As she looked at herself in the mirror the resolve she still had, the fight that made her not give up, lost some of its intensity. She looked at what she was now, just a receptacle for cum and a toy to be tortured, and for the first time just a small part of her began to believe that this was truly all she was good for.

“What do you think Holly? Do you like that cum all over your face? What am I thinking, of course you love it! You’re a desperate little whore. You’re probably delighted you get to spend the rest of your life getting fucked, beaten and cum on. All that screaming’s just an act to cover up how much of a horny pain slut you are.”

Jeremiah took a stubby wrinkled finger and wiped it across the top of Holly’s breast, taking a large dollop of his own cum on the end. With a smile on his face he lifted it high into the air above Holly and then down to her pretty little mouth.

“Open wide baby,” Jeremiah teased as he popped his cum soaked finger into Holly’s only slightly open mouth, “Come on honey, suck daddy’s finger. I know you love guzzling cum. Come on sweetie, look at me.”

Holly opened her eyes and lifted her head, staring at the cruel smiling face of her tormentor as she sucked the salty finger that he was pushing further and further down her throat. She felt so ashamed and utterly humiliated as the Texan moved his stubby finger out, scooped up more of his thick seed from her aching throbbing boobs and pushed it once more into her mouth. Helpless all she could do was suck off his cum and wait for yet more torture to follow.

“What a cum-hungry whore you are,” he sneered, “that’s it suck it all off. You’re getting wet just tasting my spunk aren’t you? Desperate to cum aren’t you slut?”

As he said this Holly heard a click followed by a buzzing sound. Tied up she couldn’t see what was making the noise but when Jeremiah smiled she was certain it wouldn’t be good and she braced herself for another shot of pain. So it was with great surprise that when she felt a sensation on her pussy it wasn’t painful. Instead, she realised, the buzzing must be from a small vibrator that was now being pressed gently but firmly against her labia. She hadn’t felt any real pleasure since she had been strapped to the fucking machine down in the basement so despite the pain in the rest of her body Holly couldn’t help but try to enjoy this rare and blessed treat. Just as she was about to close her eyes though the voice she hated so much spoke again.

“Even strapped to frame when you can’t move a muscle you’re still just aching for a fucking aren’t you? You really are a dirty little whore. Keep looking at your cum covered face and I just might let you enjoy it. Do you like that buzzing on your cunt?”

Holly knew it was desperately humiliating but she couldn’t help but enjoy the sensation as the woman moved the vibrator up and down her sensitive sex. It didn’t diminish the pain she felt in the rest of her body but amongst it there was a slight warm feeling emanating from her crotch. It was the tiniest little light but still it was there. However, she was also deeply ashamed. As she stared at her cum stained face whilst she was unwillingly pleasured she couldn’t help but feel she was letting herself down by submitting to their whims. And yet, if this monster wanted her to be a whore then that was what she must be. Anything to survive in this hellhole.

“Yes, Sir,” Holly whimpered softly.

Jeremiah looked into Holly’s one open eye and could almost see the shame and humiliation within it. How pathetic, he thought. If this bitch was willing to answer every question with ‘yes, sir’ no matter how degrading it was then she deserved everything he did to her. After all he had spanked her, caned her, milked her, had her fucked with a monster dildo, beaten her tits, skewered her, burned her and titfucked her and yet still she agreed with whatever he said. At least the pretty blonde he had brought with him had had some self respect – this English slut had only been captive a few days. He had no doubt those days had been hellish but she had shown no fight whatsoever, just meekly agreed to be tortured and abused. If Greta could do this with a girl in just a few days then when he got Melissa back he was sure she would be just as obedient.

“Filthy whore! You’re a very naughty girl Holly, all you want is sex sex sex. You and your whore friends got yourself kidnapped just so you could get your slutty fix. But I’ll be generous; I’ll give your cunt what you want. Whilst we’re doing that, I think it’s time we cleaned you up. We can’t send you back up to your mistress looking like this, can we?”

The last sentence made Holly’s head spin. Finally, she thought, she would be getting away from this torturous bastard. That said, it had hardly been any better when she was upstairs with the woman who had treated her like shit and tortured her almost as much as the fat American. In truth she realised now that this would be her life being passed from person to person just to be raped and abused. As the old man tossed the mirror on the ground she was relieved, for she would no longer have to look at just how low she’d come.

Jeremiah knew that the innocent girl he had been torturing for the last hour or so was far from the slutty teen that were so often desperate to fuck him so he would buy them expensive gifts. She may have been beautiful with a glorious rack and a great body but he had known as soon as he’d seen her that she wasn’t the type to put herself on display. But it didn’t matter to him. He wanted her to think this was her fault, to blame herself for what had happened to her and her friends. With his free hand he reached down took the vibrating bullet from the woman, allowing her to disappear once more into the corner of the room. Pressing the toy harder into Holly’s cunt he saw the babe gasp in pleasure, her breasts jiggling exquisitely with each breath.

“Look at me slut,” Jeremiah demanded. Holly obeyed and looked the man who had tortured her so much. If she didn’t know better she would have no idea how much of a sadistic psychopath he truly was. She did know better though, and for the rest of her days she would never be able to erase his face from her memory, his laughing while she screamed seared into her mind. Even now, as he pressed the buzzing toy against her sex, pleasuring her, she could gain no comfort. He had taken everything away from her and by controlling her feeling of pleasure he had removed that as well. Strapped to the frame she was utterly helpless and she knew it.

“Hurry up and wash this whore,” Jeremiah barked and almost immediately the woman came out of the darkness with a bucket in hand. She set the bucket down next to frame and made her way around the metal bars and columns so she was stood by Holly’s head. Holly heard the sloshing of water and, through the heat radiating from her loins, she panicked.

She would put nothing past these people and so all sorts of things ran through her head; acid, raw alcohol, something even worse. So Holly was surprised when, as a sponge was pressed against her shoulder, she felt nothing other than cold water. The woman began to move the sponge around and still Holly felt nothing save the liquid, the buzzing at her clit and the constant background pain that had become her life.

“Wash her face first,” Jeremiah ordered, “and quickly, I want our little whore to be looking at me all the time.”

The woman didn’t hesitate and quickly sponged down Holly’s face, removing the cum that was starting to crust across its surface. It took her just a few seconds until the job was adequately done and she moved back to the girl’s torso. As she looked down she could see Holly’s magnificent chest rising and falling with increasing speed, the effect of the stimulation plain to see. Having washed Holly’s arms, neck and just the top of her chest the woman paused, waiting for her orders to begin the main event.

“The little slut’s enjoying this,” Jeremiah chuckled, amused by Holly’s light moans of pleasure, “Wash everything off her tits, they’re as dirty as she is. And be thorough. I want those udders spotless.”

The woman knew exactly what this meant. He didn’t want her just to clean thoroughly but roughly. Jeremiah loved making girl’s suffer and unfortunately for this one her unique assets only made him more determined to watch her in pain. In a way the woman could understand why somebody would be this cruel to an innocent girl, especially this one. As she stretched her hand around the underside of one huge tit, and her fingers sank slightly into the forgiving flesh, she could understand the appeal of slapping it till the girl begged for mercy. And if you got pleasure from torturing women you may as well choose one with toys like this girl to play with. Lifting the heavy globe up slightly the woman applied the sponge to the top and began to scrub.

Holly winced in pain as the rough treatment of her tits continued. Even the waves of pleasure emanating from her crotch couldn’t drown out the pain that any touch of her breasts provoked. All one would have to do was squeeze one gently and Holly would have squealed in exquisite agony. Now as the woman began to scrub earnestly Holly’s moans of pleasure were replaced by groans of pain.

“Still moaning whore?” Jeremiah asked gleefully, “Do you want to cum?”

“Yyyyyy…Yes, Sir,” Holly moaned, the pleasure reaching a crescendo.

“Beg for me to let you cum.”

Holly paused, for a moment imagining she had too much pride to beg.


“Please, Sir…let me cummmmmm,”

“Tell me what you are.”


“Tell me what you are and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

“A…a…whore, Sir.”

“Whore is too good for you. You’re just a little painslut. A big titty painslut desperate to be whipped and beaten so she can cum. Isn’t that right Holly?”

“Yessssss, Sir,” Holly moaned as the woman scrubbed her swollen nipple.

“Tell me what you are.”

“I’m a…a…ppppp…pain…slut,” the stuttered reply courtesy of the woman moving onto her other breast and the pleasure from between her thighs reaching fever pitch.

“Not just any old painslut. Say it.”

“I’m a big t…titty painslut.”

“That’s right. A pathetic little painslut with two fat tits and a dripping wet cunt. And you know what slut? You’re embarrassing… And you certainly don’t deserve to cum!”

With a suddenness that belied his lumbering build he quickly took the vibrator away from her now slick pussy. Holly’s eyes went wide at the removal of this rare source of pleasure and she tried desperately to move her hips towards it. Jeremiah laughed.

“You really thought I was going to let you cum? Hahaha, you dumb cunt. Why should I let you? You don’t deserve it.”

He placed his hand between Holly’s legs and felt how wet she had become. It was hardly a surprise given she had had a vibrator pushed against her clit but it still amazed him how these sluts, despite their pain, could still respond so invitingly to the slightest pleasure. Once he had his fingers liberally coated in her juices he raised it up to Holly’s face.

“Taste your dripping cunt you filthy slut.”

Holly had no choice as Jeremiah’s chubby fingers were once more forced down her throat. She gagged on the intrusion, and not because of the taste. The mental effects of what his fingers were covered in was bad enough. She flushed red as she tasted the fruits of his efforts, her body’s response to the very touch of the man who had caused her so much pain.

Another pang of pain came as Jeremiah closed his hand around one of her newly washed breasts, squeezing hard as he began pumping his fingers forwards and backwards in her mouth. Holly’s squeal was muffled almost entirely but Jeremiah could see the pain in the young girl’s eyes as her twisted her nipple. That was enough for him and he savoured it a moment.

He motioned with his hand that the woman was to stop her washing and when she did so he reached forward and grabbed Holly’s face between his hands.

Erzincan Escort Bayan “Untie the bitch.”

Jeremiah turned and stormed back to his chair. It didn’t take long for the woman to unbind Holly’s legs, which still hung limply until a word in her ear from the woman made her straighten them. He was disappointed, it would have been amusing to watch the girl fall hard onto the floor. He would be having words about that. As Holly’s arms were untied and she dropped the few inches to the floor, unsteady on her feet, her giant breasts bounced enticingly.

“Here, slut!” Jeremiah commanded, the patronisingly gentle tone of earlier gone completely. The shout rang around the room and with a small nudge in the back to encourage her Holly obeyed. Her head stared down, pigtails hanging down on either side, as she stumbled forwards. He chuckled as she raised a hand to cover her chest but recoiled, for as soon as she touched her aching tits the pain struck once more. Instead she had to make do with placing a hand between her legs, foolishly and futilely trying to preserve her modesty.

“On your knees where you belong!”

The teenager dropped to her knees, her head still bowed but her hands back by her sides. She looked straight down, the cold stone floor offering her more comfort than anything else in the room. Slowly, the pain still racking her body, she began to crawl forwards. Each movement was agony. Her huge breasts, hanging down deliciously, swung into her arms as she crawled and each time throbbed with pain. Her spanked arse, a rich purple colour now, still ached considerably. Her pussy, dripping wetness as she went, was still aglow with pleasure, stoked further as she crawled and her legs rubbed against her engorged clit.

It was only 10 or so feet to Jeremiah but it seemed to take Holly forever to get there. The Texan didn’t complain. Watching the girl on her knees, where she was supposed to be, was magical. Any bitch crawling towards him would have been glorious, a reminder of how the world should be, but this was extra special. Her massive tits swinging beneath her almost made his old cock twitch again, memories of being between them still fresh. They were so big that were they not so firm and without sag he felt sure her nipples would reach the floor but her youth meant that they still looked proud even hanging down beneath her. He could see her wince with each movement, her tits slapping into each other like a Newton’s cradle. Eventually she reached Jeremiah, her head hanging just inches away from his swollen belly and flaccid cock. He leant forward and grabbed her face again, looking deep into her wide brown eyes.

“How’re your tits feeling, Holly?”

“They…they are…sore, Sir” she said, trailing off.

“Sore? I bet they’re agony! I fucking hope so! Didn’t I tell you I’d make you wish you were born a flat chested little bitch? I’d make you regret ever growing them. But I’m a little concerned. After everything I’ve done to them I wonder if they’ll still work. Show me.”

Jeremiah reached across and grabbed the jug he had poured Holly’s milk out of and placed it below her. She looked down at it then back up at Jeremiah, for a moment unsure what she was to do. What did he mean still work? What else could they do except sit there and cause her pain? What was it he wanted her to…? The realisation dawned on her but still she looked up pleadingly but knowing all the while it was futile. For a moment though she thought her pleading eyes had convinced Jeremiah otherwise as he released his grip.


Holly was sent sprawling to the floor as Jeremiah delivered a brutally vicious slap to her face. She paused a moment lying on the floor as her cheek throbbed and stars flickered in front of her eyes. Even by Jeremiah’s standards the blow had been particularly savage and the young girl hoped for as long as possible to recover. There would be no moment of respite though, a fact that by now she was all too aware of.

“Up, cunt!”

With trembling limbs Holly slowly got back onto her knees. Though usually strong and healthy on account of her sporting activities a combination of lack of food, lack of sleep and the physical and mental effects of being raped and tortured over the course of these few days had taken their toll and now she was barely able to lift herself. Still she did, eager to avoid another blow that would send her head spinning once more. Kneeling obediently she prayed he would not make her do what she thought he was about to.

“Are you deaf slut? I said show me!”

“Sir…please…show you what?”

Jeremiah sighed at the stupidity of the girl. Surely she had learnt by now that she should obey without question. He had been clear when he had told her and yet she still feigned ignorance. No she couldn’t be that stupid. She was only disobedient. He would certainly punish her for that in time, and make sure to send the news up to Greta. With anger etched on his face he grabbed Holly by one of her pigtails and hauled her up so she was kneeling up on her knees back pressed against his crotch, head leaned back and face contorted in pain.

“Dumb cunt. I want you to show me they work. Are you that fucking stupid? Do I have to spell it out?” Jeremiah snarled at the girl then reached down and brutally squeezed one of her ripe tits, making the girl wail once more, “You’re going to kneel over that jug, take both of these fat udders and you’re going to milk them. Squeeze them hard, tightly, right at the end until that milk squirts out. I want it full to overflowing. Understand slut?”

“Yeeeeeiiisssss, Sirrrrrrrr,” Holly squealed as Jeremiah continued to rip at her breasts.

“Do it then!” Jeremiah shouted, throwing her once more onto the floor.

Holly didn’t pause at all this time and got back onto her knees as quickly as she could. She turned to face Jeremiah, a couple of feet away from him and bent over slightly. She looked down at the jug she was to fill. It wasn’t overly big but to her it seemed impossibly large and she could barely imagine how much it would hurt trying to fill it. Her hands trembled as she brought them slowly up to her chest.

Even before she touched them her breasts throbbed with pain, a pain that exploded as her hands grazed the skin. She winced at the feeling but knew it would be as nothing to what was to come. With tears welling up once more in her eyes she bent over further until her breasts hung just centimetres above the lip of the jug. She held each massive breast gently in each hand, her fingers slowly moving to just behind her large pale areolas. Feeling Jeremiah’s lecherous gaze burning into her sniffed back a tear and squeezed.

Unlike previous sounds of pain the noise that echoed around the room was not a sudden shriek, but a protracted wail building up to a crescendo. Holly had slowly increased the pressure on her breasts and thus slowly increased the pain. She watched demoralised as, whilst she was squeezing hard and in tremendous pain nothing happened; no milk squirted into the jug. Instead just a trickle of red came out of each breast, red which slowly became pink.

“That’s it Holly, keep going. Let’s get those tits working again. Harder.”

She gulped in preparation as she manoeuvred her thumb and forefinger right behind her nipples and squeezed. Two streams of pinkish liquid squirted out to the soundtrack of Holly’s anguished cry. With her inexperienced and pierced nipples it was impossible for to control the jets that sprang forth. One breast’s load went straight into the jug as intended, the other, not aimed as well, squirted forwards onto the floor and splashed up over Jeremiah’s foot.

“Careful you dumb bitch!”

Jeremiah’s anger was feigned of course, having tiny droplets of milk on his leg was hardly a concern. He had to cover up for now his true emotion; delight. There had been a nagging worry in his mind even as he had rejoiced in burning her that his attentions might have rendered her unable to lactate, something Greta would have been most disappointed in. And so these two streams of bloodied milk springing forth were a great sight and a load off his mind. Now he could enjoy the show.

What a show it promised to be. Watching Holly cradle her giant tits then cry out as she squeezed them was up there with some of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Why had he not done this before? He had spent many a happy hour abusing women at his own hand but watching them do it to themselves, he now realised, was just as titillating. So as Holly stole herself for another painful squeeze he sat back, smiled, and let his hand run down to his crotch once more.

This time Holly lined up both her nipples so they were directly above the jug, forced to press her huge breasts together. After a brief pause she once more positioned her fingers and squeezed. This time instead of pink the milk she extracted flowed white, the last vestiges of the blood from her ordeal seemingly removed. She wailed in pain but kept her eyes firmly fixed; not wanting to waste a drop and prolong this ordeal.

The jug seemed to filling up as if mere drops were entering it rather than the two streams she was enduring agony to produce. Slowly but surely though the level rose, though Holly could scarcely take the pain any longer. When it became too much she paused, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

“Keep going,” Jeremiah whispered lecherously, “squeeze those udders, bitch. Milk yourself like the fucking cow you are.”

She tried to block out the insults but despite everything she was still not entirely used to being spoken to like this. Yet after three days of being called every name under the sun – whore, slut, bitch, cunt, cow – her skin was thicker now than it had been to begin with. So, rather than collapse in humiliation at this latest tirade, Holly simply clasped her fingers around her swollen nipples and cried out in pain.

It took another few minutes of agony for the poor girl until the milk she had produced began to flow over the sides of the jug. By now the tops of her breasts and her cheeks were soaking wet with tears, her throat hoarse from screaming, her legs sore from kneeling. She immediately let her hands fall by her sides, desperate to save her breasts further punishment. Her head still hung low, staring at the floor. Her shoulders shook as she began to sob, her breasts wobbling like jell-o with each snatched breath.

The slow applause echoed around the room, accompanied by a beaming smile on the face of the old Texan. Holly may not have reacted to this latest indignity but it didn’t matter to him. Watching the bitch milk herself, and watching the agony it caused her, had been glorious. He was glad there were cameras all around the room for he would want to relive that scene again and again. Perhaps he would show it to Melissa as a warning what would happen if she didn’t obey. Fuck he might make her do it anyway for while they might not be comparable to the giant cans on this bitch his own slave had a pretty sizeable rack herself. That was for another time though.

Right now he must enjoy what was in front of him. Watching the girl sob, the tears streaming down her face, the way her tits jiggled up and down and knowing he was the cause of her misery made him not only happy but proud. Like anybody that had a hobby he took great pride at being talented at what he was doing. And if this snivelling English bitch was not proof of a job well done then nothing was.

“Congratulations slut, you’ve filled the jug with your jugs,” Jeremiah chuckled, laughing at his own bad joke while Holly continued to weep. He lifted the jug and placed it on the table and gestured to the woman in the background. She came quickly, two lengths of rope coiled in her hand, and stood immediately behind Holly, “You’ve finally found your place. A kneeling cow whore only useful for fucking, whipping and milking. Now be a good cunt and don’t struggle, it’s time for our next game.”

These words did little to change Holly’s response; she continued to kneel and sob in front of Jeremiah. The woman looked up at him and, when he nodded his head, she pushed forward. Holly tried to bring her arms up to break her fall but she barely made it, her soft breasts taking the brunt of the fall and causing another wailing cry. The girl tried to get up but she quickly felt a foot on top of her head, grinding her face into the floor. She tried to struggle but found hands holding down her feet and, with little strength left, there was nothing she could do.

“What did I just say, cunt?” Jeremiah called down at her as he pushed her face harder into the stone, “Stop your pathetic struggling. You’re a slave, a whore, and you will do as you are fucking told!”

Allowing the last shreds of fight to leave Holly did just that and lay still underneath Jeremiah’s heel. He was right, she was all those things and she could do nothing to defy him. She had no choice but to submit and let him do what he wanted to her. She prayed he would soon tire or that at some point, somehow, somebody would come to rescue them. In the meantime though there was no course open to her but total obedience.

It was then she felt the rope being slowly wound around her ankle. Although consumed by fear as to what the next ‘game’ might entail Holly remained stoically still, compliant and obedient. The woman worked with characteristic haste, tying the ends of the rope around first one then the other of Holly’s ankles. The knots were tight, the rope already rubbing on the girl’s smooth skin, but in no time at all they were ready. A quick nod to Jeremiah from the woman signalled that the next stage was about to begin. Jeremiah moved his foot to Holly’s back and then, forcing it down, used her as a springboard to rise to his feet. With his captive lying dejected on the floor he walked forward and nodded to the woman.

“Hang the bitch up,” Jeremiah said, more for Holly’s benefit than the woman’s, “I’ll fetch the toys.”

With a strength that belied her slender build the woman turned, both ropes slung over her shoulders, and pulled. Holly didn’t realise what was happening for a moment until the slight tug on her ankles became a sustained pull and began to move her backwards. Panicked she stretched out her hands in an attempt to prevent it but it was no use. She couldn’t reach the legs of the chair nor did the stone floor offer any grip. Besides, even if she could prevent it a moment it would be useless. She would simply get another scalding from Jeremiah and no doubt further punishment. So she remained meek, only resolving to whimper as her battered body was dragged across the cold stone.

Once the woman had dragged her about ten foot she turned slightly and pulled Holly over to where she had been bound to the metal frame which had now made its way back into the shadows. Here the woman paused and Holly turned to watch as she threw the ends of the ropes up over a beam high in the ceiling. The coils were long enough that they fell to the floor in a pile once they were over the beam. Although Holly already had a pretty good idea what was coming next she still lay there motionless, the helplessness of her situation more than apparent to her.

Calmly the woman took the ends of both ropes and took them the far side of the room. Holly could no longer see what the woman was doing so she put her face down on the floor once again and waited for the next painful indignity. Now shrouded in darkness the woman placed the ends of the ropes in two devices that were attached to the wall, wooden boxes with a metal pulley system inside. The ropes were threaded into the boxes and locked in place and the woman moved toward a small control box on the wall. She took one look at the girl lying prostrate on the floor then pressed a small button on the panel.

Almost immediately Holly felt the tug on her ankles and already she knew what was to happen. For just a few feet she was dragged still further along the floor, the abrasive surface near agony on her pain racked body. Soon though she felt the first movement upwards as her feet slowly left the floor. The pulleys whirred constantly, pulling her steadily, inexorably up. Holly’s torso was dragged along the floor just a little longer before it too joined her legs in rising off the ground. She used her arms to lift her face off the floor lest it be scraped along it but soon that too was hoisted up into the air.

Holly could now only hang limply as she was lifted wholly off the ground. The pulleys continued to work until her head was three feet off the ground. The whirring stopped and Holly came to a sudden stop. The woman turned back to look at the girl she had strung up, swaying slightly to and fro. Her legs were spread just wider than shoulder width apart allowing full access to her pussy, the very hole Xiang had earlier filled with the monstrous dildo. The teen’s toned midriff was stretched out and beneath it her gigantic breasts stood proud, falling down almost into her face. Even from this distance the woman could see the pain in the girl’s wide brown eyes but again she could do nothing to help her.

“Very good,” came the voice of the Texan as he too emerged from the shadows, a pile of various implements clutched in his arms, “a piñata for us to play with.”

Jeremiah walked toward Holly with yet another broad smile on his face. He knew that in just a few moments the babe would be wailing like a banshee once again as he beat her with the myriad of weapons he carried over. The sounds he had heard over his time with this glorious teen would stay with him until the end of his days and he was keen to add further notes to the composition. He waddled forward until he was mere inches away from Holly, her still intact womanly scent wafting into his nose. Just above his eye line he could see the delicate lips of her cunt glistening with the juices he had forced her to secrete. It was too inviting to resist as he thrust his face forward into her inviting sex.

“Mmmmmmm,” Jeremiah moaned as his tongue lapped feverishly at Holly’s pussy, “that’s one fine tasting teenage twat. Think it’s about time we gave it some attention.”

He pulled away, the taste of his captive lingering on his tongue.As his eyes cast downward he dropped the arsenal to the floor and Holly gazed upon it; canes, belts, paddles, floggers. She knew already she would soon be beaten with them with the same viciousness and cruelty Jeremiah had previously shown. And there would be no escape, tied up and hanging helplessly, all parts exposed for him to do what he wanted with. Holly may have been in near constant pain since her capture but still the prospect of the agony to follow filled her with dread.

Jeremiah though was positively salivating at the thought and the fact he knew Holly would be dreading it only added to his excitement. He could just imagine what was going through the little slut’s head; no doubt infantile musing befitting of a stupid little girl. Her thoughts weren’t really his concern though; of far more interest was the girl’s spectacular body. He looked down at what had quickly become his favourite toys. Her gigantic tits were now level with his navel and Jeremiah was easily able to grip both globes tightly. Holly groaned as her abused breasts were once again man handled, then cried out as Jeremiah delivered a succession of slaps to the sensitive mounds.


Jeremiah’s order was heard and immediately the woman bent down and lifted up a black leather flogger with tails ¼ of an inch thick and two inches wide. Each tail was about a foot long and the woman was in no doubt how much pain it would cause having been on the receiving end of similar implements many times. She held it in front of Holly’s face for a moment for she knew Jeremiah would want her to see what was about to be used on her then handed it to the American. He smiled as he weighed the heft of the weapon, then slowly began to run across Holly’s smooth skin.

“You know what’s coming don’t you slut?” Jeremiah asked, not anticipating a response, “I’m gonna beat every inch of your hot little body. When I’m finished there won’t be anywhere that hasn’t been caned, flogged, whipped or beaten. I’m gonna beat your ass. I’m gonna beat your cunt. I’m gonna beat your belly. I’m gonna beat your back. And of course I’m gonna beat your fucking massive tits. And all I need you to do is scream for me. Can you do that?”

When Holly didn’t answer immediately Jeremiah reached down with his free hand and pinched the skin on the underside of Holly’s tit. The flogger was making its way down one of her legs before coming to rest on her pretty pink pussy.

“I said can you do that?”

“Yyyyyy…yes, Sir,” she whimpered.

“Excellent. Then we’ll begin.”




So many doors and corridors blurred into one as Olivia was marched along, the Turk’s iron grip showing no sign of relenting. After what felt like an age they turned round yet another corner and through a door. Only this time rather than another lifeless stone corridor Mehmet led the petite blonde into a large stone room in which a woman in a luxurious dressing gown with bright red hair stood in front of four shivering, naked women.

“You’re late,” the red haired woman snapped at Mehmet as he pushed Olivia forward into the room, “bring the bitch over here.”

Of course Olivia was in no position to resist as Mehmet marched her into the centre of the room and lined her up next to the rest of the women. She could scarcely see anything, just the outline of shapes in front and to the side of her, but if she had been able to she would have seen four other women with the same headgear she was currently sporting. The red headed woman, huge fake breasts sticking out obscenely beneath her gown, walked along the line and inspected each girl individually. With long nailed fingers she poked and prodded various parts of their bodies, nodding her approval.

When she got to Olivia only her silhouetted shape was visible but still the petite teen recoiled as she saw a hand extend towards her. She flinched as she felt a talon grab her breast, squeezing the soft flesh as if looking for something. Next a finger was forced into Olivia’s tight pussy, causing the girl to literally jump into the air.

“Very good,” the woman said, returning to her original spot, “listen up cunts. You are to be presented to some special guests. They will use you however they want, and you will obey them without question. Is that understood?”

“Aaaaahhhh,” came the response from the five gagged girls, causing the woman and Mehmet to chuckle loudly. Olivia’s mind was racing, thinking about what those words would mean. In the course of her horrible captivity the only other kidnapped girls she’d seen had been her friends and until now she ha had no idea of the scale of this operation. But as she’d been brought into the room she had seen at least four other figures – presumably all of them kidnapped just like her. And now she was about to be given to a series of ‘guests’, and it was all she could do not to imagine the horrors that awaited her there. The evil of these people truly knew no bounds.

“Turn to your right and grab the slave in front of you,” the red woman ordered, “now march forward.”

Olivia obeyed immediately, all too aware after her escape attempt the perils of disobedience. She reached forward and felt for the shoulder of the women in front of her, having to reach up to the much taller slave she stood next to. She couldn’t make out any detail and so had no idea what the woman looked like but it didn’t matter, all she could focus on was surviving the next ordeal.

After a few steps she heard a door open up in front of her and then a chorus of shouting, cheering and whooping filled her ears. She felt like a Christian being shepherded into the arena, the crowd baying for the prisoners blood. Only it wasn’t her blood this crowd wanted. She didn’t recognise the language – it certainly wasn’t English – but she could feel the primal and lecherous nature of them, the cacophony of raucous testosterone-fuelled cheering swimming all around her.

“Gentlemen,” the red woman addressed the crowd in her heavily accented English, “here is your entertainment for this evening. They are yours to do with as you wish. Enjoy!”

With that there was a loud clap. Followed by a roar. Olivia could just about see the outline of the encroaching crowd but she could do nothing as the first hand was laid on her. Within seconds she had hands all over her, squeezing her breasts, her arse cheeks, snaking into her cunt. Another hand grabbed the back of her head and then a tongue was forced into her wide open mouth, the stench of stale cigarettes overwhelming her. She moaned as a finger wormed its way between her pert arse cheeks and into her forbidden passage.

Suddenly there was a tug on her breasts and Olivia was dragged across the room, barely able to keep her footing as her nipples were pulled painfully. With great force she was flung down onto what felt like a sofa, but there was no respite for her. Once again hands were all over her but this time they were not indiscriminate. She was manoeuvred onto her back and pulled so that her head was lying off the edge. Olivia already knew what was coming as the now familiar salty taste of a cock glistening with precum was forced into her gaping mouth.

Olivia’s head was spinning as the large prick was forced further down her throat. With the fabric over her nose and her mouth now filled with dick she struggled to breath, desperately sucking in as much air as she could through her nostrils. With her hands unbound she tried desperately to push the man out of her mouth just so she could catch a breath but there was no stopping him, he was enjoying the feel of her hot mouth far too much to pull out. Instead, a few slaps to her perky breasts were enough to dissuade her protestations.

As she focused on just staying alive it took her a moment to register another set of hands, this time pulling her legs apart. A moment later and she felt the pressure of a man at the entrance to her pussy. There was no standing on ceremony, one thrust and the man was completely buried in the petite teen. She groaned at the violation but with a huge cock in her mouth no sound came out. Instead all she managed to achieve was a groan from the man with his shaft deep in her throat, every sound she tried to make only serving to stimulate him more.

Knowing that she had no powers to resist both men began to fuck her as brutally as they dared. They couldn’t see the girl’s face, nor did they know anything about her, but it didn’t matter. She had a great body and some tight fuck holes and that was all they cared about. Whenever Ms Schweinberg hosted them she always provided top quality cunt and this little one was no exception.

All round the room the slaves were now being violated, all of them servicing at least two cocks. The man fucking Olivia’s throat looked around with a smile on his face as he saw one of his friends bury his pole in the ass of some black bitch, while another was sliding his cock between another girl’s big pillowy tits. Looking down he could see the head of his cock in this girl’s throat and it spurred him on, ramming home while he grabbed her tits in his powerful hands. Oblivious to the girl’s suffering he used her like a sex toy, fucking her with not a shred of mercy.

The renewed vigour with which her face was being used made Olivia fight back again but it was futile. While she still couldn’t believe anyone could be as cruel as the three monsters she had first met in this hell, that there were more of these sadists out there in the world was too much. And that someone could use her as these two were now, so roughly and without a single thought for her, staggered her. Did they not know she had been kidnapped and was doing this against her will? Or worse, did they know that and were still prepared to rape her this brutally?

She was just thinking that when she heard a loud groan above her, and a strengthening of the grip on her breasts. The man facefucking her and her mouth was filled with his thick seed. Wave after wave of cum gushed into her throat, making the task of breathing even harder. She coughed and spluttered but between the gag and the still raging cock there was little she could do. It was a relief when he pulled out and she managed to force some of the clogging liquid out of her mouth, the white substance dribbling down her face. The relief was short lived though as no sooner had one cock been taken out another was in its place, this one even larger than the first. All the while the man raping her pussy was becoming more and more brutal, pounding into her sensitive sex pitilessly and extremely painfully.

It was all too much for Olivia to process, her mind was racing, and she was still focusing on getting enough oxygen into her lungs to keep her alive. When she felt that familiar shudder and feeling of gallons of cum coating the walls of her pussy there was a brief respite, but predictably it didn’t last long. Another man was there to take his place, but this time her cunt wasn’t his intended target.

Some barked commands in a language Olivia didn’t understand followed and the huge cock in her mouth was pulled out. Roughly and with great ease she was lifted up and put back down again, this time onto flesh rather than the soft sofa. Before she had a chance to realise what was happening her mouth was once more stuffed to the brim, and then she felt it.

The push against her tight arse sparked her into life and she bucked her legs, desperate to fight off the imminent invasion. But surrounded by lust crazed men with only one thing on their minds she was easily subdued, and there was nothing she could do as her sphincter’s resistance was broken. With no thought for how much it would hurt her the man thrust forward with all his might, totally burying his pole deep inside her rectum and lifting her high into the air as he did so. And her pussy didn’t remain empty for long either.

Olivia was now completely stuffed, a cock in each of her pussy and arsehole and a giant prick fucking her mouth, testicles slamming into her face. The three men fucked her so insanely brutally she was sure she would split open, that they would fuck her so hard they would meet in the middle. She barely noticed when another man grabbed her hand and placed it around his cock, forcing her to jerk him off as he watched her brutal rape. To the outside observer the room was now hot with two dozen sweating, panting men, filled with a cacophony of grunting, groaning and the slap of flesh on flesh and the air thick with the smell of sweat and cum. But to Olivia all that paled into insignificance, the only world she could now imagine was the sheer horror of what she was experiencing. To have gone from a happy go lucky, innocent teenager with her whole life ahead of her to this, a victim of an astonishingly brutal gang rape, was an unimaginable tragedy. And so as her throat was once more pumped full of cum it was as if all hope was flowing out of her.


Yet another squeal rang around the torture chamber, this one much hoarser than the first few had been. Lucy though didn’t think about it as she tightened another loop of copper wire across one of Melissa’s now obscene breasts. Blotting out all the other sounds in the room she twisted the pliers one more time, the metal sinking into the bulging flesh just behind the nipple, until it was as tight as the other four loops she had made. The hanging blonde was wailing and writhing as Lucy finished but the tall, raven haired girl ignored it, finishing off before looking over at Greta. A quick nod from the German signified a job well done.

Greta had watched with pleasure as Lucy had joined in her in horribly constricting Melissa’s breasts. Although at first she had worried about the girl’s hesitations by the third loop they seemed to have disappeared, and the sultry teenager had merely gone about her duty methodically, seemingly ignoring the desperate cries of pain from their blonde captive. Now as she finished the final loop Greta could truly begin to see the makings of a top class dominatrix, torturer and who knows, one day, perhaps an accomplice. Satisfied, Greta reached out a hand and grabbed the sobbing blonde’s hair.

“Hey cunt,” she spat, trying to get the American to look her in the eyes, “look at me cunt. Look at me or I’ll put another five of those on.”

Of course, it would be next to impossible to put just one more loop of copper wire round Melissa’s tits, let alone five. The German took a moment to look at what the two of them had done to the girl’s once plump and luscious breasts. Each one now stuck out straight ahead, as if they were so alarmed at what was happening they were standing to attention. Along her breasts at roughly one inch intervals there were circles of copper wire, each loop digging painfully into the sensitive flesh. Between each loop of metal the previously pale white skin of Melissa’s breasts was now a revolting deep purple and bulged obscenely outwards.

Lucy and Greta’s combined attentions and turned the American’s perfectly formed love-mounds into obscene perversions of their former selves. And by the way Melissa was still thrashing and wailing in her bonds, they were now far more painful than they’d ever been before. Desperate to avoid any further torment, Melissa turned her tear filled eyes on her vicious oppressor.

“Look at what we’ve done to your tits slut,” Greta said, pulling the blonde’s hair to force her to look down. The girl’s eyes once more went wider than they’d ever gone as she stared at what her breasts had become. Lucy was filled with shame as she imagined what was going through the poor American’s head; no doubt wondering if they’d ever recover from the abuse. For someone who was so proud of her own body Lucy couldn’t imagine being so disfigured, even if it was only temporary. Yet it had been her that had subjected the poor girl to this dreadful torture. And Lucy knew this would not be the end.

“That’s right cunt,” Greta continued, “have a good look at your tits. When you were showing them off to try and get a job you never thought they’d end up like this.”

“I…I…never…” Melissa sobbed, barely able to speak and unable to tear her eyes away from her bulging purple breasts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Greta snapped, “we don’t want to hear you speak. In fact, we’re going to put that mouth to much better use. It’s time you thanked me for teaching you to be a good slave. Take her down.”

Greta looked over at Lucy with no further instructions. The reason behind this was simple – she wanted Lucy to figure much of this out for herself so she was actively participating in the girl’s torture, not merely following orders. And Lucy seemed to be taking to it exceedingly well. The teenager didn’t hesitate at all this time, looking up at the chains that held Melissa in the air. She followed them up to the ceiling, spying the pulley to which they were attached and quickly working out what she had to do.

Ignoring the plaintive groans of the American Lucy held her around the waist and pulled down, continuing until the manacles around Melissa’s wrists were within reach. With her one free hand she unclipped them, the chains shooting up to the ceiling, and the sobbing blonde cradled in her arms.

“Good,” Greta continued, hiding her pleasure at Lucy’s rapidly strengthening obedience, “bring her over.”

Lucy tried not to think about what she was doing as she hooked both arms underneath Melissa’s armpits and lifted her so she was easier to carry. She was heavy, an almost dead weight as she slumped motionless, but Lucy was strong and she knew she would receive no help so she hauled the girl across towards Greta, who was striding toward the other side of the room. A thin sheen of sweat covered the girl, no doubt on account of her wild screaming just a few moments before, and Lucy had to continually readjust her grip, all the while doing her best not to touch .

As Lucy dragged the blonde across the stone floor the German walked right into the gloom at the edge of the basement. For a moment Lucy merely waited for her to return but then there was a small crack of light and a whistle signalled for her to follow.

Lucy half carried and half dragged the slumped blonde and now began to make out some detail in the gloom of the basement, just about able to see the array of cruel whips, paddles and various other BDSM gear that was hanging on the walls. It was a good job the American had her eyes closed, for Lucy was sure seeing all the things that could be used on her would just send her mad. In fact the leggy teen was a little confused as to why she seemed so blasé about these implements, baring in mind it had been only a couple of days ago she had felt the sting of them herself and it was more than likely her best friends were being subjected to such cruelties even now. What was troubling Lucy was that as she walked towards what she now saw was a door in the wall of the basement was that she didn’t seem to be troubled by that at all.

The door was only open a crack when she got there, allowing just a sliver of harsh white light to permeate and illuminate her side of the wall. Lucy realised there was no way she could pass through that small crack with her cargo so she set the American down, allowing her sweaty body to merely slide off her and onto the floor.

Unbound as she was Melissa could easily have tried to get up and make an escape attempt, possibly take one of those implements to threaten Lucy, but she didn’t. For a moment Lucy caught her own thoughts telling the blonde to stay still, distressingly similar to exactly what had been said to her. She pushed it out of her mind though; she was nothing like these monsters. That’s what she had to tell herself.

The door was on a sliding mechanism, built into the stone of the basement wall so it would be invisible to anyone who didn’t know it was there. Reaching her fingers around the side Lucy pulled right hard and was surprised that the door opened with comparative ease. There was a flash of bright white light that dazzled the black haired beauty for a moment. Stunned, she stood staring wide eyed into the room that she had revealed.

In the ceiling was a bright white spotlight, hanging down and illuminating everything in the centre of the room and left Lucy in no doubt about what she was looking at. The chains hanging from the ceiling, the large wooden table in the middle of the room, and off to one side a heavy wooden chair with multiple straps and wires hanging off it. Lucy shuddered as she gazed at the sight in front of her; the sight of the room she had woken up in three days before.

Flashes back to those horrendous hours filled her head: waking up hanging from the ceiling; being been anally raped while strapped to a wooden horse; having those dildos rip themselves away just as she was about to cum while strapped to a chair. If the last day or so had helped her to get over those horrors seeing the very same place in front of her brought it all back.

“In now,” Greta snapped, impatient at Lucy’s hesitance, “bring the bitch.”

Lucy looked over at the German who was standing by that table, face contorted into a snarl as she started at Lucy. The English girl was in no doubt who was in charge here and Lucy was reminded that though she was unbound and not being tortured she was still a slave, she had no choice but to obey. So despite her reluctance she turned round, once more picked Melissa up under the armpits and half dragged, half carried her into the room.

Greta didn’t say anything as she watched Lucy lugging the dead weight of the blonde over to the middle of the room. Indeed she was enjoying watching the teenager carry the suffering American over towards her. She had been impressed with how easily Lucy had taken to her new role and though it by no means meant she wouldn’t get some rough treatment in the future – Greta knew it was important always to remind slaves of their place – if she kept this up the German might have found a wonderful asset. When Lucy eventually got over to the table having made her way across the expanse of the stone floor she had a slight sheen of sweat and was beginning to pant. Greta took a few steps towards her and bent down to grab Melissa’s legs, before nodding at Lucy.

Between the two of them the women almost effortlessly lifted Melissa up onto the table. Lucy was surprised just how strong Greta seemed to be but focused on doing her job as well as she could. Once they’d put her down the German made a vague signal with her hand and then began to push the American, Lucy following suit until she was positioned in the centre. Her eyes were still closed as if she were trying to shut out what was happening, but Lucy knew Greta and knew that tactic wouldn’t work for long. Seemingly satisfied the German reached underneath the table and pulled out four lengths of thin coarse rope, before handing them to Lucy.

“Tie the cunt’s ankles,” she said bluntly, “then her wrists.”

With that Greta turned and made her way over to the gloom at the sides of the basement, just as she had so often when Lucy had been in a similar position. Now then she could relax a little for she was content that whatever horrible torture was next it would not be intended for her. Rather than wait terrified about what Greta would return with she set about the task at hand. Looking at the rope she could make out four distinct lengths and so began tying them to Melissa’s limbs. As she pulled the first knot tight on one leg she heard the girl stir but she made no attempt to shake her off, allowing Lucy to tighten the knot once more. She had only managed to tie both ankles when Greta returned and placed a couple of items on the table beside the almost catatonic blonde.

Lucy looked over at the things on the table which she recognised only too well. There she could clearly make out a wooden paddle, and images of her brutally thrashing her best friend’s breasts came flooding back. And next to it, the huge dildo she’d had to use to fuck Holly while Greta forced her pussy into her face. Lucy could still hear Holly’s muffled screams as she’d brought the paddle down again and again on her sensitive breasts.

Seeing those items she knew immediately what was to come, but to her great shame her body responded in a way she’d never expected. Almost as soon as she saw the paddle and dildo she felt a tingle in her groin. Stealthily she placed a hand there and to her immense shame she felt just a drop of wetness on her tender lips.

Surely she couldn’t really be getting off on this? She had just spent half an hour torturing this poor girl in an unimaginably cruel way and now she had realised she was about to rape and beat her even more; and yet she was dripping between her thighs. As these thoughts raced through her head she heard a click from Greta and realised she still had work to do.

As Lucy moved round to tie the remaining lengths of rope around Melissa’s wrists she saw out the corner of her eye Greta climb up onto the table, take Melissa’s legs and pull them into the air. Just as she slipped the first knot on Greta began tying each length of rope to small rings that hung from the ceiling; rings Lucy recognised as the ones Holly’s new nipple rings had first been attached to. Greta made sure the knots were tight and that Melissa’s legs were spread, leaving her pussy totally spread and at her mercy.

Lucy had done one wrist when Greta climbed down, reached under the table and produced a small wedge of wood which she placed under the small of Melissa’s back. Lucy already knew what was about to happen so she just carried on, making a tight noose and slipping it over the Americans one remaining wrist. Greta then moved over and effortlessly tied the ropes on Melissa’s wrists to eyelets on the underside of the table, stretching Melissa out painfully. Now that she was ready Lucy knew what was about to happen and she had already reached out for the strap on when Greta turned to her.

“Strap up,” she said sternly, and Lucy did. She had never worn a strap on before her kidnapping but after her previous experience she knew how to do it. Tightening the strap she felt a slight change from her previous time, a small nub that pressed against her clitoris, not entirely unpleasantly. The dildo itself was huge, just like the one she’d fucked Holly with, and Lucy knew the girl was likely to enjoy this even less than her friend had. Greta had moved round to Melissa’s head and placed her hands either side of her face, her skeletal fingers reaching across her tear stained cheeks and leaning over so she was just inches away.

“Look at me you snivelling cunt,” Greta snapped, and Melissa obeyed immediately, “this is what’s going to happen now. You’re going to thank me for teaching you how to be a proper slave. Do you know how you’re going to do that, whore? You’re going to lick my pussy. You’re going to lick me out until I cum all over your face. Can you do that?”

Melissa waited a moment, staring into the unforgiving eyes of her tormentor. At this distance she could see every emotion of Greta’s piercing green eyes, searching desperately for a crumb of comfort, any semblance of hope she could cling onto. She couldn’t believe anybody could possibly be this cruel, that could inflict the sort of pain she had on her and not feel any empathy. And yet as she stared upwards she knew that this woman felt nothing but hate for her. There would be no respite until Greta was satisfied and Melissa would merely have to obey and hope, pray, the German tired of torturing her.

“Yes mistress,” she muttered meekly.

“Good,” Greta said, not giving anything away with her stony features, “and to give you some incentive, my assistant is going to fuck you. Here!”

Greta snapped at Lucy and the girl swiftly made her way over to that end of the table. Greta waited until the teen was stood next to her and then forcefully turned Melissa’s head. It took a moment but as soon as Melissa saw the monstrously sized dildo her eyes went wide and she tried to shake her head, gibbering at Greta.

“No…please…I…I…can’t no please…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Greta snapped, turning the girl back to face her, “that’s going in your cunt whether you like it or not. And she’s going to fuck you until I cum. And to give you even more encouragement, we’re going to beat your fucking tits. If you weren’t such a disobedient cunt maybe I’d trust you to do a good job without her, but I can’t. Ready?”

Melissa merely nodded her head for after hearing what was about to happen she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Seeing the size of that dildo, nearly a foot long and as thick as her arm, she simply couldn’t believe that it was going to be forced into her pussy. She’d had plenty of things inside her over the years of course, including Jeremiah’s stinking prick, but that was by far the biggest thing she had ever seen let alone fucked. It was so big she was sure it would split her in two – there was no way she’d be able to survive that surely. To make matters worse, if that were possible, she would have to endure more, even brutal treatment to her already tortured breasts. With all that, the prospect of having to lick the pussy of her torturer was hardly worth thinking about.

Greta didn’t bother waiting for Melissa to confirm she was ready. Truth be told she was desperate to get the girl tonguing her dripping pussy. The girl’s wailing and screaming as they’d tightened the copper wire on her tits had turned her on so much she was almost worried she’d cum as soon as the bound girl began to stimulate her. Except Greta knew there was no danger of that. She had the discipline to hold off for as long as she needed, at least until the bitch had taken a pounding from the teenage slave. For as much as Greta was excited to get her rocks off the real purpose of this was to get Lucy once again torturing a slave. She turned to her teenage helper and nodded, signalling it was time to begin.

Lucy tried not to think about what she had to do, she merely walked round to the other side of the table and clambered onto it. The monster dildo bucked up and down as she crawled, on her knees, forwards until the massive rubber cock was hovering just above Melissa’s splayed cunt. Knowing Greta was watching Lucy extended her hand and lightly touched the blonde’s sensitive pussy lips. She flinched in her bonds but couldn’t escape Lucy’s touch as she probed her finger down the slit and the slowly inside Melissa’s vagina.

As Lucy slid her finger further in she noted there wasn’t a hint of wetness – she was going to have to force the massive cock up the poor girl’s dry cunt. She paused for a moment, wondering whether she should ask Greta for some lube or anything which might alleviate the girl’s suffering just a little. But she thought better of it, knowing that the pain was exactly what Greta wanted. With a stony expression on her face she shuffled forward and placed the tip of the giant cock at the entrance to Melissa’s sex.

The sadistic German watched with a grin as Lucy slowly eased the gigantic strap on into the American’s cunt, drinking in the blonde’s tortured wails. As her apprentice eased the monstrous cock up Greta was pleased to see that the trepidation and shame that Lucy had felt when she’d fucked the big titted bitch she’d been taken with seemed to have taken a back seat. Although she was by no means relishing her new role the way Greta did, to have come as far as she had in such a short period of time was very encouraging. As Lucy continued to slide that huge cock into Melissa, Greta clambered onto the table.

“You ready to start bitch?” Greta asked, although not really waiting for an answer as she positioned her crotch over the wailing babe’s face, “Get licking!”

Unceremoniously Greta plonked herself down, forcing her pussy right onto Melissa’s face. The American was still moaning in pain as Greta ground her sex right onto the blonde’s mouth, practically smothering her as Lucy continued to force the cock forwards, trying to avert her eyes from the stare of the German. Feeling no attempt to try to pleasure her Greta reached for a paddle and, with one swift movement, sent it crashing into Melissa’s distended purple breast.

Even with the Greta sat on top of her, muffling the sound, the scream that Melissa let out was blood-curdling, chilling Lucy to her very core. She had tried to block out the girl’s pain filled groans as she’d forced the dildo ever deeper but this was impossible to ignore. What made it worse is Lucy knew it wouldn’t be long before she too was swinging a paddle into those much abused tits.

“Lick me you cunt!” Greta shouted, “lick me good or you’ll get plenty more!”

The blow had the desired effect as Melissa, desperate to avoid another strike, stuck out her tongue and desperately began lapping at Greta’s already dripping sex. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it but this was a far cry from that night in her college dorm. With her tits on fire and her cunt feeling like it was being torn in two Melissa tried to focus on bringing the woman to climax, anything that might take her mind off the pain. But then a searing agony exploded from her pussy, and she screamed bloody murder once again.

Lucy’s eyes went wide as she heard the scream she had just caused the poor girl as, with one last thrust, she had slammed the tip of the dildo hard into Melissa’s cervix. A pang of guilt coursed through her as Melissa’s wail echoed around the room, bouncing off the stone walls and taunting Lucy. She wanted so badly to say sorry, to make sure this girl didn’t think she was enjoying torturing her but she knew it wasn’t possible – Greta would probably flay her skin off if she tried that. And so Lucy put her head down and thrust her hips backwards, pulling the cock out of the girl’s still dry cunt, before, reluctantly, plunging forward again.

With Melissa’s wailing dying down once more Greta ground her pussy down, stimulating the girl to resume her licking. As her tongue ran its way from her pussy hole to just flicking her clit her body shuddered with pleasure, not just because of the sensation but the power she had over this bitch. And it was that that turned Greta on more than anything else, knowing that she could do whatever she wanted to this cunt and there was nothing she could do or say to stop it.

“Fuck her faster,” the German snapped, disappointed in the slow pace Lucy had adopted. Of course she knew why the teen had done it, trying to spare this blonde bitch as much pain as possible, but in this dungeon less pain wasn’t an option.

Lucy obeyed instantly, pulling out once again so only the tip of the cock was in Melissa’s pussy before slamming forward; not quite as far as the first time but still enough to make the girl scream. As she did so she felt a buzzing, a little vibration on her clit that sent a small wave pf pleasure through her body. Whatever she had felt when she put on the strap on was obviously a little vibrator, and one that responded whenever she thrust forward hard enough. She looked up to see Greta grinning slightly, obviously pleased Lucy had discovered the strap-on’s little secret. As she had predicted the buzz in her crotch, the promise of sexual release, spurred Lucy on and within a few moments the girl was fucking in and out of the tortured babe with a ferocity that surprised even the sadistic German.

“Pick up the paddle,” Greta demanded, grinding her pussy even harder into the slave’s face.

To her delight Lucy barely broke rhythm as she leant across and picked up the oak paddle, still fucking Melissa forcefully. Then, without even having to be told, Lucy swung the paddle hard into the American’s tortured breast. It was all Greta could do not to cum immediately as the poor blonde wailed into her cunt. Having seen how difficult it had been for Lucy to assault her friend down in the basement just a couple of days ago, to see the babe now obey her orders with what seemed just shy of relish was ivigorating. In just three days she had almost broken her, and the thought of what she could mould her into over the coming weeks, months and years.

For Lucy however no such thoughts were present, indeed she was trying not to think as much as possible. Instead of thinking about the pain she was causing this innocent woman with each thrust of her hips or swing of the paddle, she focused instead on the pleasure that was building in her sex. With each plunge of the dildo into the suffering girl’s cunt the vibrator pressed against her clit buzzed and sent another wave of pleasure through her body. Blanking out the horrific nature of what she was being forced to do she thought only of the pleasure she was getting. And after what she’d been through since her capture she could easily convince herself that she deserved this small respite.

While the two torturers were slowly building towards a climax Melissa was in a world of pain she couldn’t have believed would have existed before she experienced this. It was sheer agony; from the pounding of the monstrous dildo into her pussy, stretching it beyond measure, the unbearable pain in her obscenely tied breasts with each thwack of the paddle all added to the fact that with her tormentor’s crotch pressed down into her face she could hardly breathe. What she wouldn’t give to be back in the hands of that grotesque old man who’d first captured her, anything to escape this hell on earth.

Such worries were far from Lucy’s mind, as the pleasure built Escort Erzincan inside her the suffering she was causing almost completely disappeared from her mind. She was now pounding in and out of Melissa like a woman possessed, driving forward with as much force as she could muster. Her legs and hips were beginning to tire but it didn’t matter, her only goal now was to achieve what she was sure would be an almost overwhelming orgasm. The paddle in her hand slammed again and again into the bound breast of her victim as the room was filled with a whole cacophony of horror and anguish. As the pleasure built up to an almost intolerable level Lucy suddenly felt a hand on the back of her neck.

Greta too was getting close to orgasm, but she was able to restrain herself until the perfect time – ensuring that she and her new apprentice would reach their climax simultaneously. It gave her immense satisfaction to see how much the young English girl seemed to be enjoying what she was doing, totally caught up in the frenzy of pleasure she was in. As her eyes began to roll back in her head Greta smiled and reached out a hand, gripping her accomplice behind the head and pulling her forwards. Then, leaning forwards slightly, she thrust her tongue into the girl’s open mouth.

The wave of pleasure that broke over Lucy was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was like her whole body was made of butterflies as every inch of her tingled, before suddenly exploding with the most intense pleasure anyone had ever felt. Her hips thrust forward one last time, burying the whole of the strap on into her victim’s pussy as her own sex filled her body with an almost other worldly euphoria. She opened her mouth, all set to unleash a moan of intense pleasure, when she was pulled forward and a tongue thrust into her mouth.

An invasion of her mouth, an unwanted forced kiss, should have made Lucy resist. Just a few days ago, if somebody had come up to her in a bar and tried the same stunt she would have kicked off, possibly going so far as to use the pepper spray she always kept in her handbag. But now that this woman who had kidnapped her and her friends, tortured them and humiliated her more than she ever imagined possible, she offered no resistance. Instead, as her orgasm continued to pulse through her body the kiss brought her to new heights of pleasure, the intermingling of their saliva taking her to another plane of joy. She kissed back with relish, bringing up a hand and grabbing the back of Greta’s head, enjoying it to a level that surprised the German.

And that surprise was enough to send Greta over the edge, grinding her pussy into Melissa’s face one last time and then shuddering as she came, her juices cascading over the American’s face. Locked in an embrace with her compliant slave Greta closed her eyes and just enjoyed the moment, the sweet release of her climax and the satisfaction of having broken the English girl so easily combining to make this one of the most enjoyable moments she’d had in this basement of hers. And there had been many.

After a few moments entwined in the passionate embrace the last waves of her orgasm began to fade Greta pulled back, her hand still holding Lucy’s head in front of her. She looked into the teenager’s eyes and saw the glint that she knew so well. The first time she had seen it she had been just 14 and she had just watched her father beating some whore to within an inch of her life. Hiding behind a crate she had been unable to take her eyes off the spectacle, her father – belt in hand – striking some poor, screaming Armenian teenager again and again. Greta had been unable to contain herself, frantically strumming herself as she watched the glorious scene unfold. And after the most powerful orgasm she could remember, when she next caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, it was that same look in her eyes she recognised in the English girl right now. Now that she had realised her true nature Greta knew the girl would be hers forever.

For Lucy the feelings were very different, but no less powerful. As she looked into the emerald green eyes that she had up until now associated only with pain and shame she felt a decidedly different emotion being reflected back at her. Still cold and not showing anything that could be construed as joy or happiness, but unless Lucy was very much mistaken there was something very close to pride there. Whether it was pride in Lucy’s efforts or her own ability to break Lucy the teenager didn’t know but in the post orgasm haze she was in at the moment she didn’t care.

Having cum harder than she had ever cum before Lucy was almost oblivious to the suffering she had just caused – the feelings of the poor girl beneath her could scarcely be further from her mind. In fact as she looked at Greta, the cause of more misery than she had ever deemed possible t both her and her friends, she almost felt gratitude. She could only stare forward, confused at her own emotions, as Greta shuffled off the slippery face of their victim.

“Well done cunt,” she snapped, leaning over the American so her face was inches from hers once again, “you did a good job making your mistress cum. And you got fucked as well. You enjoyed that didn’t you?”

“Y…yes…mistress,” Melissa panted, struggling to get her breath back having been almost smothered by Greta. Her body was still wracked with pain, her much abused breasts practically ablaze with agony as they rose and fell on her chest. But despite this she answered quickly, desperate to be given some respite from the constant torture.

“Fucking whore,” Greta spat, “what do you say to my assistant?”

“Mistress… I don’t know…”

“You’re not going to thank her for fucking you, you ungrateful cunt?”

“Th…thank you…”


“Thank you for…fucking me…”

Hearing that made Lucy feel the greatest pang of shame she had felt in her time with this woman. She had just brutally raped her, savagely beaten her breasts which she had tied so painfully with copper wire and now she was being forced to thank her tormentor. It was a humiliation Lucy understood only too well and she couldn’t help but feel sympathy. And yet she knew that wasn’t going to make her job any easier and so, like so many emotions in the last few days, she pushed it to the back of her mind.

“Well seen as you like both your holes stuffed I know just what to do with you next. But first, let’s do your tits. Grab some wire cutters.”

Greta’s voice was stern again and it took Lucy slightly by surprise after the strange moment they had just shared. The giant dildo was still buried in the American’s sex and now the post orgasm trance had worn off Lucy started to feel bad for the pain she had put this girl through. That lasted only a moment though as she pushed the thought out of her mind. What choice had she had?

The raven haired beauty clambered down off the table, not easy with a foot long plastic cock bobbing down in front of her, and made her way over to the side of the room. Last time she had been here she had been tortured exclusively in the middle and hadn’t been able to see what was in the murky gloom but being able to walk around the sheer scale of the depravity was clear.

The sheer array of torture instruments was staggering – it was if Lucy had wandered into some medieval museum. But she didn’t have time to dwell on anything like that, she had to concentrate on finding what she had been told to. Despite her new position resembling some kind of promotion she was still wary of her German mistress and wanted to stay in her good books. Glancing around she noticed a metal toolbox and made for it, quickly finding a pair of gleaming cutters, and making her way back over to her mistress and the sobbing girl.

When she arrived she saw Greta was already wielding her own pair of wire cutters, and immediately the teen knew what was about to happen. Inside she prepared herself for the inevitable screaming that was about to fill the room. Before Greta had to say anything Lucy was up on the table again and straddling Melissa’s stomach, wielding the cutters ready for action. Greta, impressed, took up her position.

“It’s time to take those wires of those udders,” she spat before leaning in close to Melissa once more, “and it’s going to hurt.”

Quick as a flash Greta reached out and sliced through the wire closest to Melissa’s nipple. It flew through the air and there was a momentary silence before Melissa squealed yet again as the blood began to return to her still purple breast flesh. Lucy took her cutters and repeated the motion on Melissa’s other breast, once again making the tortured American cry out in pain.

Slowly, methodically, the two women snipped away at the wires that encircled and constricted Melissa’s large perky breasts, each time eliciting a wail from the tortured American. Lucy tried once more to ignore the plaintive screams, focusing on not cutting into the sensitive skin as she did so. After a minute two only two coiled wires remained – those that constricted the base of Melissa’s ample bosom.

As the blood had slowly seeped into her breasts more and more feeling had returned and her moans of pain had become greater and greater but they were still bulging and purple. Lucy knew that when they cut the final wires the girl would scream bloody murder, but it was what she must do. She watched Greta for her cue, the German’s cutters now hovering just millimetres from Melissa’s distended nipple.

“We are going to do the last one now,” Greta said menacingly, “are you ready to scream?”

Melissa was still moaning, eyes closed and head moving from side to side as if she could shake all the pain away. Greta didn’t take kindly to being ignored and brought down a vicious slap across Melissa’s face.

“Don’t fucking ignore me bitch,” she shouted, raw anger written on her face, “or I’ll cut your nipple right off. Answer me cunt!”

“Yessss,” Melissa said through gritted teeth, “yes mistress…”

“Yes what!?”

“Yes…yes I’m ready to…scream…”


Greta didn’t give Lucy any signal but the English teen knew what to do immediately. In unison the two dominatrix’s sliced through the copper wire that bound each breast. Suddenly the breasts that had been forced into the most unnatural position were free and Lucy watched as the two fleshy globes bounced and quivered before finally coming to rest on her chest. It took a moment of silence but then…


Melissa thrashed and bucked as her scream rang out around the basement, bouncing off the walls and ringing in Lucy’s ears. The sound of her pain was familiar to Lucy as it hadn’t been that long ago that she had been making the same noises in this very basement. And deep down she was sure her two friends would be doing the same somewhere in this hell. And yet where Lucy thought she should feel bad for this girl for some reason she couldn’t explain she didn’t. And so as she watched the blonde screaming at the top of her lungs she was more disturbed at her lack of feeling than any sense of pity.

“Are you quite finished?” Greta said after about a minute of Melissa’s heartfelt ministrations, “don’t you want your holes stuffed? Untie the bitch.”

Greta said nothing else as she clambered off the table and made her way over to the side of the room to fetch the next dastardly torture device, leaving Lucy all alone with Melissa. As Greta disappeared, it occurred to Lucy that unbound and unwatched it would be possible for to try an escape. Perhaps she could use her wire cutters, go up behind Greta and knock her out, even kill her. Then she could find a better weapon, untie this poor girl, and make her way through this labyrinthine dungeon and out to freedom. It was a long shot, high risk and with no doubt dire consequences, but it was possible. And yet, for some reason, she didn’t consider it for long. The threat of going back to those first two days, the horrible torture she had endured, if her escape failed was just too great. She couldn’t risk it. Scolding herself for being a coward she set about untying the blonde girl.

Melissa didn’t put up any resistance even as Lucy quite roughly undid the bonds that held her. Instead she just sobbed, the pain from her breasts and pussy now a dull ache rather than a searing agony. Lucy ignored and worked with surprising pace, until in just less than a couple of minutes the girl was no longer bound. Behind her she heard a familiar scraping of something heavy moving across the dungeon floor and she turned her head, taking her eyes off her victim.

The next device that Greta was wheeling out of the shadows was one Lucy already knew too well and as she saw it coming closer towards her, her whole body shuddered with fear and anticipation. All she could think as her eyes were fixed on that gigantic wooden chair, straps and wires dangling all over the place, was the pain and humiliation, as well as the frustration she had felt when she was first strapped to it what seemed like an age ago. The worst experience she had had in her 18 short years on this earth was now rumbling towards her. She hoped, prayed, with every fibre of her being that she would be spared the torment of that thing.

So transfixed was she, she couldn’t the glimmer in Greta’s eyes at the fear of the teenager, the pleasure at how much she’d broken the young girl. Lucy would have given literally anything not to have been strapped into that chair once again, and that was exactly how the German wanted it.

“Bring the bitch over,” the blonde haired sadist snapped as soon as she’d trundled the chair into the centre of the room, “quickly!”

Lucy paused, unsure of how to proceed but as always she knew she couldn’t hang about. Looking down at the sobbing girl she felt those familiar pangs of sympathy, guilt and shame but there was no time for that. Pushing under her shoulders Lucy hooked her arms underneath Melissa’s and tried to lift her. She tried to lift, but lying as she was the blonde was dead weight, and after all she’d been through up to this point it was hardly surprising she was in an uncooperative mood. Lucy switched to dragging and pulled the girl slowly over toward the edge of the table.

“Quickly!” Greta barked, genuine anger in her voice as she stood waiting by the chair.

“Stand up,” Lucy said matter of factly, but the girl was lost in her own world of pain and sorry to respond.

“Stand up,” she repeated but still the American showed no sign of moving. Lucy looked over to Greta and was shocked, those green eyes seeming to punch her in the gut they were so full of rage. Desperate to stay on the German’s good side Lucy didn’t think, but brought her hand crashing against the side of Melissa’s face, jolting her out of her sort of trance.

“Stand up!”

Desperate to avoid another vicious slap Melissa sprang into action, complying as Lucy manoeuvred her off the wooden table and onto the hard stone floor. Her legs were like jelly as she stood, supported by the beautiful black haired girl who appeared by her accent to be English. Melissa wondered how a girl who looked little older than her could be as cruel as she had. And it was only now that she had a look at the device she was about to be placed on.

Her eyes flicked across the monstrous contraption, the buckles, the wires, the two dildos at the base frightening the living daylights out of her. She had been subject to great cruelty at the hands of that beastly fat oaf but he had never had anything like that to use on her. She stopped in her tracks, as if that was going to help.

“Move,” Lucy snapped, impatient at the blonde’s hesitation. She had already wasted enough of Lucy’s time, pissing off Greta and no doubt earning her a severe reprimand, and the teen was in no mood to waste any more. Not waiting for the girl to move on her own accord she grabbed the girl by the back of the neck and frogmarched her into the centre of the room. Melissa stumbled and staggered but Lucy continued regardless, bringing the much abused slave to Greta.

“In the chair,” the German now addressing Melissa, sending a chill through the American such was the venom in her voice. She daren’t refuse and, still trembling, lowered herself down. The two dildos, one massive and curving upwards, the other much smaller but still substantial. It was clear where they were about to go but Melissa still paused. Greta didn’t say anything more but nodded to Lucy, what she wanted implicit.

“Sit down” Lucy said, “that one in your cunt, the other in your arse.”

Melissa turned to look at the raven haired girl for some comfort, some let up, but found the same steely gaze back at her. There was barely a flicker of sympathy or humanity there, and if there was anything the girl was trying to cover it up. Melissa knew it was futile to resist and so she lowered herself down onto the dildo. Dry as she was there was plenty of resistance to the huge rubber cock but she would have no time to get herself ready. Instead she lined the entrance of her pussy up with the black tip of the rubber dildo.

The two other women looked on emotionless as Melissa slowly, painfully lowered herself further and further down, her eyes welling up as the friction burned the sensitive walls of her sex. She soon felt she was as far down as she could go but as she was not sitting on the chair she knew she would have to go further. Another inch and she felt the second phallus pressing against the crinkled bud of her anus.

Watching as the American impaled herself on those two dildos Lucy could almost feel them inside of her, so recent was the memory of her own imprisonment on the dreaded chair. She had hated the way she had had to slap that girl, and the way she had spoken to her, but she had no choice. Watching Melissa’s torment Lucy knew she couldn’t go back to that place and she would have to do whatever it took to avoid that. Even the tears streaming down the girl’s face didn’t move the hardening heart of the English girl.

“Tie her,” Greta snapped as soon as Melissa was fully impaled on the two dildos. Lucy wasted no time, securing the manacles around the blonde’s wrists and ankles and securing the belt around her arms and across her waist, all the while the blonde American sobbing and mewling. All tied up there was just one thing left to do and Lucy took the two wires with the little clamps on and brought them up to Melissa’s tits. No use standing on ceremony, she opened those evil little metal teeth and closed them on Melissa’s swollen nipples. The squeal ripped around the room but, job done, Lucy ignored it. She took a step back and Greta moved round to take her place.

“Look at me bitch,” the German snapped, slapping the American across her rosy red cheeks, “look at me! Have you learned your place slave?”

“Yes mistress,” Melissa sobbed, “yes mistress please, I’ll be good I swear, no more…”

“If you’d really learnt your place you wouldn’t dare to make a demand of your mistress. You need more training.”

“No mistress please, I’m good, I’m a good slave please….”

“Quiet cunt,” another slap ringing around the room, “you’ll stay here until I think you’ve learnt your lesson. And you can scream all you want, nobody’s going to hear you.”

With that Greta reached around and turned on the machine. There was a faint whirring and Lucy watched as the stimulation she had felt herself began. She knew that feeling all too well and the last thing she wanted to do was watch. Thankfully for her Greta had other plans. She clicked her fingers as she made her way toward the stairs, signalling for Lucy to follow her. The two women made their way across the room, heels rapping on the floor, and up the stairs Greta had ascended so many times. As they reached the top of the stairs and Greta made her way through a door, the first of no doubt countless screams split the air.



Jeremiah bellowed as he came, his cum flooding the inside of the tight, swollen cunt which gripped his cock like a velvet glove. Waves of pleasure flooded over him as he spurted his seed deep into the girl. Gripping her hips hard he had forced his entire prick into her pussy so that his cum was now shot deep within her, her groans and squeals of pain as nothing to his roar of pleasure. He had scarcely believed how tight her cunt had been, the ferocious beating he had given it obviously making her lips swell and grip his cock like a vice. Even as his cock doused her teen pussy with jet after jet of hot cum he thrust forward a couple more times; those monster tits now bound and bucking with the impact. As the adrenalin of his climax subsided and his cock began to soften he opened his eyes and looked at the girl who had taken him to heights he barely thought possible.

It had been four hours since Holly had been led into the dungeon with Jeremiah but to her it felt like a lifetime. There wasn’t a single part of her body that wasn’t now screaming in pain such had been the cruelty he had shown her. So excruciating was the pain that she could barely form coherent thoughts for her mind was ablaze; every inch of her battered body wailing in tortured agony.

The latest indignity and pain of being raped whilst suspended with great weights hanging from clamps on her nipples, her breasts tightly constricted at the base, would to any other girl be deemed extraordinary torture. For Holly it had now become the norm. All she could do was hang limply in the strappado she had been tied in and hope that after so long her tormentor had finally grown tired of the orgy of violence.

As his cock slid out of Holly’s slick pussy Jeremiah panted like a dog. He was utterly exhausted. His exertions, as much fun as they had been, had left him unable to continue. Much like Holly he could barely move a muscle although for very different reasons. Whilst her time here had been hell on earth for Jeremiah it had been four hours of pure heaven. All good things must come to an end though and so he prepared to say his goodbyes to this unfortunate teen, for now at least.

With his last ounces of energy he made his way round in front of the girl. He looked down at the objects on which he had focused so much of his sadistic lust. The creamy pale breasts Holly had had when she had been brought here, skin almost flawless save a pattern of bruises, were now a macabre shadow of their former selves. Bound tightly at the base with thin black cord they had bulged obscenely, turning almost purple, with thin rivulets of blood being squeezed from each place he had skewered them. Watching those mountainous globes jiggle and bounce when free had been magnificent, watching them buck wildly as he fucked her brutally had been no less arousing. He didn’t say a word as he then undid her bonds, allowing the clamps to pull her pendulous breasts even further. A fat stubby hand grabbed her hair, the pigtails long since undone, pulled Holly’s head up and forced her to look into his eye.

“Look at me cunt!” Jeremiah snapped, accompanying this with a quick slap across her face and forcing Holly to raise her eyes to meet his gaze, “You are one amazing whore Holly. The way your cunt gripped my dick, this is what you were born to be.”

As he said this Holly began to wail anew, the blood flowing back into her breasts making her feel once again every blow they had taken at his hand. Jeremiah felt nothing but amusement at this latest reaction and laughed as his free hand shot out and grabbed at the aching flesh. The skin was slippery to the touch, slick with blood, sweat and tears.

“And these titties,” he chuckled, squeezing and pulling at her chest like he was kneading dough, “you should have seen the way they bucked up down as I reamed out your pretty pussy! Do they hurt honey? Did old Jeremiah make you regret growing such monster knockers?”

“Yes Sir,” she sobbed immediately.

“Good. I told you I’d make you sorry for them. Make you sorry for being such a worthIess big titted whore. Now I’m gonna send you up to her while I rest. But don’t worry, I’ll be back for you. And your tits.”

A brutal squeeze of the sensitive cone within his palm was his last act of cruelty on the girl; for now. The supple flesh was warm to the touch, hours of vicious abuse turning her once pale breasts a vivid red. As his fingers dug into the pliant flesh he knew he would have to play with her at least once before he returned home. He may have tortured dozens of girls over his lifetime but this little English bitch, with those tits, was undoubtedly the highlight. He wished it would never end but he knew it had to. He had grown too tired to even enjoy tormenting her anymore. Well, almost.

Greta would want her slave back intact though and if he knew the German Holly’s tribulations were by no means over. That thought, that Holly would still be abused when he left her, meant that as he finally turned to make his way out of the dungeon the parting from his new favourite toy was not as painful as it might have been. As he left the room he was already looking forward to the next time he would get his hands on her, especially after Greta had had her fun.

As the man finally left the room Holly broke down in tears, pain humiliation and a small amount of relief. He was gone. Although Holly knew this was far from freedom not being abused by him for the foreseeable future was about as good a blessing as she could hope for in this nightmare. Her sobbing made her whole body shake and put even more strain on her shoulders but she couldn’t help it; the floodgates had been opened and she didn’t have the energy or strength to close them. With each movement she made her huge tits wobbled, the heavy weights that hung from her nipples swinging wildly and painfully. The clamps they were attached to bit hard into the pale flesh of her nipples, the weights pulling her breasts into long conical points. She was in a world of pain but that was her world now and so she tried to weep it all away.

Jeremiah’s farewell had been a great relief to Xiang as well for it meant she didn’t have to witness the terrible suffering of the poor girl at his hand and, perhaps more pertinently, she no longer had to aid in it. All she would have to do now was send Holly back off upstairs and she would be able to relax. It had been a testing day for though she was used to seeing torture and abuse even she had been taken aback by the American’s cruelty.

She threw a thin wooden cane down to the floor, a cane she had just been mercilessly whipping Holly’s bulging tits with, and made her way over to the sobbing girl. The sooner she could get the now sobbing teen out of her sight the quicker she could put her suffering behind her. Out of sight, out of mind.

Holly felt a hand on her and immediately flinched, certain that it was more pain about to be heaped upon her. That it was the woman held little meaning for her; any touch she now associated with pain. It was surprising then when the woman, rather than look to inflict more misery, moved to undo first one then both clamps. With the strain removed Holly’s breasts hurt marginally less but as feeling once more returned to her distended nipples she squealed again.

Eager to get it over with the woman merely dropped the clamps on the floor and reached up to undo the bonds that held Holly in the painful strappado. Reaching a long arm underneath Holly meant that when she unhooked her the teen fell down into her arms and not straight onto the hard stone floor. Holly was still sobbing but Xiang offered no words of comfort.

“Stand up,” she said sternly, holding Holly until she finally got the strength in her legs to support herself. Hands still tied behind her back and head hanging down the woman prodded Holly toward the door through which she had first entered this hell over four hours ago. Tears still streamed down her face as she reached the door. The heavy wood swung open and standing there with a wide grin painted across their face was Hasan.

The tall muscular Turk had been eagerly awaiting the time when he could pick Holly up, not only so he could feel those tits again but also to see the damage Jeremiah had done to her. He wasn’t disappointed. Holly’s pale skin had now turned an angry shade of red, every inch of her body obviously having tasted a cane, belt or whip. Welts and bruises were developing where the blows had been particularly savage or repetitive. He could only imagine how much the young Brit had screamed as Jeremiah had laid blow after blow on her tight body. The girl’s cheeks were streaked red with crying and tears were running down her pretty little face. It was unsurprisingly her massive breasts that held Hasan’s attention though. When he had last had them in his hands they had been bruised slightly but that was as nothing compared to them now. Each gigantic tit had a patchwork of deep bruises, at different stages of maturity but evidence of the painful treatment she had received. Across the surface were tiny red pinpricks, at least twenty on each huge globe. Hasan didn’t know the exact cause but he guessed it would have been painful; he would certainly be watching the video later to see how she squealed.

He reached out his giant hands and gently cupped her boobs. The heavy flesh was hot to the touch but, as he slowly squeezed, the torture had done nothing to assuage how firm and luscious they were. With the smile never leaving his face he dug his fingers into the soft mounds, pleased at the cry of pain he elicited from the helpless girl. He could have squeezed them all day but a quick look from Xiang told him it was time to take her upstairs. So Hasan nodded and grabbed Holly’s hair so she was looking at him.

“Come,” he snapped, still smiling as she looked up at him with her tear stained eyes. Using the hand in her hair to guide her he marched forward, forcing Holly to almost run in order to keep up with him. She was still sobbing but he didn’t mind; the sound only meaning she was in pain. He looked across at her, the speed at which she had to walk making her breasts bounce delightfully up and down.

Maintaining his pace Hasan raised his free hand and slapped her tits, the feel of his hand smacking into her abused flesh pure heaven. It didn’t take long until they reached the room he was taking her to, although for Holly it felt much longer as her breasts were subjected to yet more abuse. The room she had just been brought into was not unlike every other she had been in since her abduction, the walls and floor were stone while a single light bulb lit the room up. The only features were a steel bar that rose out of the floor about three foot, bent so it was parallel to the ground then descended back into the floor, and a large chest. Hasan closed the door behind him then turned Holly to face him, tears still streaming down her face.

“Stop crying bitch,” Hasan spat, the sound of her pathetic whining having grown annoying. Holly had wept almost all her tears and so she was able to quickly sniffle for just a few seconds and stop crying. Instead she merely looked up at Hasan, the fact that he was so much better looking than Jeremiah holding no sway over Holly’s feelings for she had seen how cruel he could be himself. His face, contorted into a disturbing smile, filled Holly with dread all over again.

“The old man had fun with you, yes?” Hasan chuckled, “He played with your big tits?”

Hasan once again gripped at her monster breasts, ignoring Holly’s pitiful moaning. He could never tire of playing with them. It was a miracle that the girl had been able to grow tits this big but this perfect; to be the size they were without any sag or imperfections was truly a gift from God. Squeezing the soft flesh was heaven, the fact it pained the teen as he did so only adding to the appeal.

“Everybody want to play with your tits. But they wait. Now you get dressed.”

Holly hadn’t known what Hasan had meant initially but in just ten minutes she was no longer ignorant. As Hasan had laid out various black pieces of leather out on the floor Holly could only look on perplexed as to what exactly was to be done to her now. Hasan worked without betraying emotion, resisting the urge to grope the girl’s delicious body. The pieces of leather he was handling barely looked like clothes but as he wrapped them around Holly the picture slowly began to take shape. Holly remained inanimate throughout, allowing herself to be manhandled and dressed like shop dummy less she receive any further punishment. And after ten minutes of working busily Hasan stood up and admired his handiwork.

Standing in front of him was a black figure, just a few exposed areas of creamy white skin signifying that it was indeed a person that stood in front of him. Holly had looked like this before of course but this time the finish was much more professional. Her slender legs were tightly encircled in jet black leather, two oblong pieces that had been tied tightly along the back. From her ankles up to the top of her thighs Holly felt the pressure applied by the tight garment. Stopping just below the curve of her behind her badly bruised arse cheeks were still on display, as were her two newly violated holes. Holly’s torso was similarly encased, a tightly drawn corset around her midriff, showing off her fabulous teenage figure, and thick leather straps stretching up covering most of her upper body. The garment did not conceal her glorious chest, the straps instead making her battered, bruised but still magnificent breasts bulge even more. The pale nipples that topped her gigantic tits now shimmered as Hasan had re-adorned her breasts with rings. Her arms were encased up to the shoulder in a single black leather sleeve which had been pulled behind her back, the tight leather forcing her elbows together pushing her tits out even further.

Holly’s look was completed by her headgear. Totally covering her head was a thick leather hood, one that had been tied tightly at the back. Holly’s face was visible, her innocent features still beautiful even after all she had been through. On the side of the hood were two protrusions, blinkers that prevented Holly from seeing anything but straight ahead . Once more her hair had been pulled into a taut ponytail which projected proudly out the back. A large dildo gag had been forced into her mouth and a small ring had been put into her pierced septum. Hasan was pleased with his work; he had transformed an innocent schoolgirl into a leather clad slave. There was just one more thing he needed to do until he had her prepared exactly as instructed.

“Sit,” Hasan commanded, loudly so Holly would hear from within her hood. Holly had learnt her lessons and obeyed immediately. It was difficult with the tight stiff clothing but she managed it, getting first down to her knees and then rocking back onto her bottom. As her battered arse cheeks made contact with the floor she let out a small cry then watched as Hasan pulled out what he needed.

Holly had never seen anything like them before and had no earthly idea how she would cope with them on. He held what were clearly shoes, shoes that would leave her tottering and unsteady on her feet. For where there should have been a heel there was nothing. Holly would be forced to stand on her tip toes and for a girl who rarely wore heels anyway this would be tremendously difficult. It didn’t take long for Hasan to get them on, lacing them up to just below her knee. Once he was done he stood up and looked down at the disconsolate Holly.

“Stand,” he barked, barely able to contain his excitement.

Holly looked up at Hasan’s smirking face, knowing already she would have no choice but to obey. She didn’t know how she could get up but she did know she had to try. With her hands behind her back it seemed completely impossible. She got her legs into a position where she might be able to balance on the tips of the ludicrous shoes. Then hoping that it might work she tried to get to her feet.

Hasan laughed raucously as the big titted babe toppled straight forward onto the floor. With no hands to break her fall she fell straight forward onto her chest, breasts once more exploding with pain. Watching her sprawling helplessly on the floor wasn’t just arousing but for Hasan it was hilarious. He knew she wasn’t going to get up on those shoes, not without a lot of training, but it was going to be fun watching her try. After a moment on the floor Holly tried again, desperate not to be punished for failing to obey instructions. Hasan continued to laugh at her pitiful attempts, offering absolutely no sympathy to the much abused teen.

“I said get up slut,” he laughed.

Finally after a minute or two of fruitless attempts Hasan finally stepped in. He grabbed the girl under her arms and lifted her up so she was standing up, the shoes making her almost as tall as the 6’2 Hasan. He stepped back, watched as she teetered and then burst out laughing when she inevitably fell flat back down onto her arse.

“Fucking cunt,” he chuckled when his laughter finally subsided, “you need lot of training to be real pony whore. Now you rest, training starts very soon.”

Once again Hasan picked her up but this time he didn’t leave her on her own, almost having to carry her over to the bar in the middle of the room. It wasn’t difficult to bend her over the bar and this time, her midriff supported, she was finally able to stay on her feet. Hasan didn’t waste any time, collecting a couple of chains from the now almost empty chest. The first he clipped on to her nose ring then stretched it out to the far wall, just pulling slightly on her septum, and clipped it on to a ring mounted on the wall. The second forked in to two ends and he clipped each of these on to the rings of her pendulous hanging tits. He then ran the chain between Holly’s legs, making sure it ran over her clit, and hooked it onto another ring on the opposite wall. The chain stretched her breasts taut, pulling them into giant cones. Only one more thing remained.

Holly could only remain fastened in position as Hasan first put on a thin pair of latex gloves and went back over to the chest to pick up the last remaining items. In one hand now was a thick black butt plug, unremarkable in itself compared with the variety of contraptions available in this hell. However, out of the base of the plug was a protrusion of long, fine black hair, soft and silky to the touch. There were also two straps, one on each side, with small brass buckles on the ends. The other hand contained a small plastic bottle, within which was a red gel.

With a maniacal grin spreading across his face he squeezed a large drop onto the tip of the butt plug then smeared it all over the toy. Once completely coated in the slippery gel the toy was then taken over to the trussed up babe.

The Turk said nothing as he placed the tip of the plug against the tight sphincter of Holly’s exposed arsehole. He knew first hand how tight that opening was, having forced his giant cock in there just a few hours before, but the gel was an excellent lubricant. He pushed down extremely hard and forced the entire toy deep into Holly’s bowels. Unable to speak her only reaction to this painful intrusion was a loud moan. It only took a second to buckle the plug to her leather clothing, securing it in place.

Hasan looked at his handiwork and smiled. Holly had once again been reduced to a mere object rather than a human being. Her black leather suit shimmered in the dull light, obscuring her pretty face but accentuating her womanly curves. Her bruised breasts were no longer free to jiggle and dance but still he was amazed at their size. Her massively high shoes gave her legs a beautifully slender shape. And jutting out the back, completing the ensemble, was Holly’s very own tail. The hairs from the butt plug sprouted out of arse and made Holly’s ponygirl look complete. Hasan smiled broadly and, as if he had just finished touching up a car, he slapped her hard on her sore arse cheek and started to leave.

“Sleep good,” he said as he opened the door, “lots of training to do with you tomorrow. Are you excited?”

Holly didn’t respond to his question but she did suddenly come to life. Letting out an almighty wail she stamped her feet and wiggled her arse as much as she could frantically. Although she didn’t know the reason for this new discomfort Hasan knew only too well. The gel he had smeared all over the butt plug jammed into her arse had been laced with chilli and it was this taking effect that had caused Holly’s frantic protestations. Unsurprisingly Hasan had no sympathy whatsoever for her and greeted her pain with nothing but amusement. He laughed heartily and with that switched off the light and closed the door, plunging a humiliated and pain racked Holly alone in the darkness.


As his beat up old car struggled up the twisting mountain path a dozen questions raced through the old detective’s head. After years spent plugging away with dead end cases – homeless murders, missing prostitutes, drug overdoses – out of nowhere he’d been handed this bumper case, the biggest case of his career. And he’d made real headway. Now his boss, Rudolff Papen, veteran of thirty years on the force and notoriously hard to please, had asked him to help with following up a lead. For a man who’d put a gun in his own mouth more times than he could count it was an extraordinary, almost unbelievable turn of events.

The old banger he’d had for fifteen years now coughed and wheezed as it wound its way up the mountains that loomed permanently above Munich. Hanneman hadn’t been up in the mountains for many years, and he had never been where he was heading now. As he turned another corner the vast castle came into view, presiding over the valley with a menace that even now sent a shiver through the detective’s spine. It was curious, as if as soon as he saw the castle a chill descended on him. Like the universe was trying to tell him something. But he didn’t have time for that nonsense now, in what was potentially the biggest day of his career. In just a few minutes his spluttering car was pulling up to a set of gigantic iron gates.

“State your name,” came a strangely practiced voice who clearly wasn’t German.

“Errr,” the dishevelled detective began, “Detective Hanneman.”

“To see?”

“Erm, Superintendent Papen…”

There was a click and the heavy gates swung open, the road now transformed into a white gravel pathway. Hanneman drove and the car lurched forward, belching out a black cloud as it did so. The car was in stark contrast to the usual vehicles that frequented Schweinberg castle, not that Hanneman knew it. As he came up to the vast wooden doors he spotted the portly figure of his commanding officer and another, much more slender and more striking.

“Hanneman,” Papen exclaimed, seeming curiously happy and, dare he say it, unprofessional, “park up and get in here. We have much to discuss.”

Hanneman obeyed the commands of his boss, still slightly perplexed. He thought they were questioning this woman about potential involvement in the disappearance of three teenage girls. And yet with Papen on the front porch it was as if they were together visiting an old friend. He found somewhere to park and clambered out of his car, adjusting his tie as he went. The closer he got to the woman stood at Papen’s side the more she gave him the chills, those piercing green eyes seeming to look straight through him and deep into his soul. Dressed in a sharp grey pantsuit the woman stood unmoving, hardly the welcome with open arms he might have expected fro someone hoping to cooperate with the police.

“Hanneman,” Papen shouted, again his manner slightly confusing the detective, “glad you could make it. This is Ms Greta Schweinberg.”

“Please to meet you Madam,” Hanneman said, moving in to kiss her on the cheek.

“And you detective,” the woman said, stepping back and rather embarrassing the middle aged man, “I believe you’re under the misapprehension someone in my employ may have had something to do with those poor girls going missing?”

“No…ma’am,” the detective stuttered, confused as to how he’d ended up being interrogated by what he considered a suspect, “I was merely…you see…”

“Relax Hanneman,” Papen chortled, “I explained the situation to Ms Schweinberg and she was extremely eager to help with our investigation. Why don’t we go inside and discuss it further?”

Greta nodded and they turned and made their way inside, Detective Hanneman following in just behind the other two. Going through the giant oak doors Hanneman was stunned at the opulence of the room, marble and polished wood everywhere. It was the nicest room he had ever been in, and it only served to exacerbate his unease. There was definitely something fishy about this whole thing, and Hanneman was beginning to think this had all been a mistake. He was about to say as much when Greta spoke up.

“Forgive my earlier tone, detective,” Greta said to him, her face much warmer now, “I know you’re only doing your job. But I do resent any suggestion that I would have anything to do with the disappearance of those girls.”

“Of course,” Hanneman replied, “I was merely following up a lead ma’am.”

“I understand, and I admire your dedication. I want to offer my full cooperation in your investigation, and finding out what could possibly have happened to those poor girls. I have my office downstairs, I would very much like to discuss your findings down there.”

“Well, ma’am, it’s not police policy to discuss an active investigation with members of the…”

“Ah Hanneman,” Papen interrupted, “Ms Schweinberg is offering her full cooperation and contacts for our investigation. With the Brits breathing down my neck we need all the help we can get. Come on.”

Hanneman’s unease was reaching fever pitch now – nothing about this was right. And yet he’d just received an order from his boss, there was no way he’d be able to continue on this case if he refused. And so he followed meekly as they traversed the hallway and made their way to a small doorway and into a stone staircase. It was dimly lit and oddly spooky, Hanneman following Greta down the dingy staircase while the towering figure of the police chief brought up the rear. They continued in silence for some time, descending deep into the bowels of the old medieval castle. After what seemed like an age they reached the bottom of the stairs and Greta walked up to a heavy wooden door.

“Don’t worry detective,” Greta said, unconvincing in her attempt to assuage his doubts and fears, “my office is just through here.”

Hanneman turned around to van Papen, who smiled and nodded, signalling the detective to go through into Greta’s ‘office’. She opened the door, the room inside shrouded in darkness.

“The switch is just on the right.”

Hanneman slowly walked forward, every fibre of his being screaming at him not to go through but he had come so far, he couldn’t walk away from the biggest moment of his career so far. Nervously he moved past Greta, peering into the gloom of the of the room. It was curious, why in a house this large had she chosen this dingy basement as her office? Why could he see what he was sure was another person in the shadows? He turned to the right and, grasping around in the darkness, until his hand came across the light switched and illuminated the room.

Hanneman had been right, there was another figure in the room. And when he saw who it was he gasped. Dressed in a black kimono and standing on a pair of ludicrously high heels was a stunning, raven haired beauty who the detective immediately recognised. Lucy Watson, one of the three English girls he had been searching for. He was stunned, but it didn’t take long for him to be distracted.

Standing behind Lucy was yet another girl he recognised. This one though was in a very different position to the kidnapped English teen. Totally naked the detective took in the sight in front of him with sheer horror. She was tied to some sort of wooden chair, her arms tied behind her and her legs spread obscenely allowing Hanneman a full view of her exposed sex. She had a wide ring gag forced into her mouth, making her look of sheer terror all the more striking. Hanneman recognised her immediately as the girl from the bar, the same one he had spoken to just a day ago.

“Oh my God…”

Hanneman’s exclamation came as the reality of his situation slowly dawned on him. His mind was working overtime putting the pieces of the jigsaw together as he stared forward at the terrified young woman bound naked in front of him. As he realised what was happening he also realised it was too late to do anything.

“You bastards, what have you done!?”

Hanneman turned and made for his commanding officer, who was standing smiling at the down and out detective. He barely made it a few yards before a giant hairy arm reached round him and restrained him. Hasan held the struggling detective tightly in his giant arms as Greta and her accomplice looked on amused.

“Quiet Hanneman,” Papen said, amused, “Take a look over there.”

A podgy finger pointed to where the cute girl with the pixie haircut was looking on, eyes filled with tears. Hanneman’s struggles died down, the futility of his position dawning on him. He looked over, taking in the sheer terror on the poor girl’s face. Unlike the others in the room he felt no arousal at the girl’s predicament, only disgust at what these monsters had done to her.

“Take a good hard look,” Papen continued, “because it’s your fault she’s there. If you’d kept your nose out of everyone’s business that bitch would still be pouring over her books, studying for her literature degree. And you’d still be drinking yourself to death every night over your fucking miserable life. Instead, neither of you will leave this place ever again.”

Hanneman heard everything Papen was saying but it barely registered as his eyes were fixed on the girl struggling against her bonds. A white hot rage welled up inside him as he looked at the innocent girl, kidnapped bound and consigned to a life of sexual slavery and abuse he could barely comprehend. He didn’t care about his own life, he’d almost killed himself so many times it scarcely mattered to him. But this girl, and the three English teenagers, had done nothing to deserve this.

“You’ll never get away with this you sons of bitches,” he screamed, fighting once more against the grip of the giant Turk, “I’ll get out of here, I’ll tell everybody what you’ve done!”

Now Greta walked over toward the dishevelled detective, a look of irritation flashing across her usual stony face. She stood in front of the detective as he babbled and shouted, practically frothing at the mouth with rage. After waiting 10 seconds through his stream of abuse Greta pulled her hand back and delivered a vicious slap to the detective’s cheek.

“I’m afraid, Mr Hanneman,” Greta said, quietly, chillingly, “that we will get away with this. I’ve been getting away with this for twenty years, and some fuck up detective isn’t going to stop me. You know how many girls have been through this castle? Hundreds. All of them raped, tortured, abused. All of it right under your nose. And look at that one. You recognise her?”

Hanneman looked over to where Greta was gesturing, the leggy black haired girl standing unbound in front of him, only now noticing the bullwhip coiled up in her hand. He had spent hours pouring over her picture, obsessing over her and her friends as he drank. And now she was in front of him. But unlike the bar girl, she was not restrained. He knew she’d been kidnapped, snatched off the streets and no doubt submitted to brutal torture and sexual abuse. And yet there she stood, unmoved by the events unfurling in front of her – or the bound girl to her left.

“Of course you recognise her,” Greta continued, “she’s one of the English girls that so tragically went missing in our fair city. When I first brought her here I had her raped, tortured her, did things to her you wouldn’t believe. And now look at her. She’s my wonderful assistant. Do you know what we were doing just an hour ago? Lucy here was fucking some American bitch while the cunt licked me out. That’s how quickly I broke her.”

Lucy stood there stoically as Greta described her brutal captivity, watching almost dispassionately as she stared straight forward at the struggling detective. She knew to give anything away but certain to get her a severe punishment. But inside her heart sank. Here was a man who had been looking for her, someone who was out there trying to help her and her friends get out of this hell. They hadn’t been forgotten about – somebody was trying to save them! And yet that chance of salvation was here, with her, doomed to never see the outside world again. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach as she watched him struggling, knowing from first hand experience how strong the arms that held him were.

“As for her friends, I’m afraid they’re not having quite such a good time. It’s a shame you won’t get a chance to see them. Now, it’s time for you to die. Would you like to fuck one of these cunts before you go?”

“Go to hell you sick bitch,” the detective shouted, before launching a globule of spit straight at the woman’s face.

Greta’s expression didn’t change as the saliva ran down her face. Instead she stared straight ahead, and then cracked a smile. Turning to Papen she nodded, and the police chief reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a revolver. He placed the weapon in the woman’s talon liked hands and she grasped it, before levelling it straight at the detective’s head.

“Very well detective,” Greta said jovially, “good bye.”

The sound of the shot rang out around the room, followed closely by a scream. Lucy watched in horror as Greta pulled the trigger, a red mist exploding from behind the detective’s head and blood and brains spraying all over the back wall. There was a single red dot right between his eyes which rolled back into his head. Hasan let go of the detective’s now lifeless body letting it slump into a crumpled heap on the stone floor. Her hands rose in front of her face but it was too late, she had seen something she would never be able to forget.

Greta showed no such emotion, even as Lucy’s scream died down into a whimper. Instead she stared for a moment at the detective’s body before handing the gun back to Papen. She turned and looked at Lucy, who had dropped the whip and was now looking through her hands at the body of the man who had tried to save her.

“Clean that up,” Greta said, gesturing to the body on the ground. Hasan said nothing as he lifted the lifeless lump and proceeded to drag it out of the room. The German now walked forward and stood in front of the girl in the chair, shaking with fear and trying desperately to get out of her bonds. Looking her up and down once more Greta snapped her head round and looked at Lucy.

“Pull yourself together whore,” Greta snapped, clearly irritated, “we need to get started on this bitch. Somebody needs to teach her a lesson for talking to that loser.”

Papen smiled and took off his jacket, while Lucy knew that the time to be shocked at what had just happened was over. She had no choice but to get on with the job in hand and hope against hope that there would be someone else other than that poor man out there looking for her. And so with an even heavier heart than ever, she picked up the whip and walked over toward her murderous mistress.


Thank you for taking the time to read this story – I’ll try and bring the next part out rather quicker! I do really appreciate your feedback, whether positive or negative and will always try to respond so either leave a comment below or inbox me on here.

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