Steel City
by Morlock


Author's note: The official positions and the historical events discussed in this story may exist or have existed, but the story characters are not based on, nor do they represent, any actual official.


My attorney had me back out on the street by nightfall and a visit to my office showed that it had been ransacked. I wasn't worried about that, since there had been absolutely nothing for them to find - not even a single wrist bracelet, and for damned sure no papers having do to with that side of my business. Cindy and Mary came over and we began to put the place back in order.

The next day, my attorney was putting together our response - another claim that my civil rights had been violated. It was fortunate, he said, that I had refused to admit guilt on the first time this happened - that would have made it much harder to defend against now. There was another much more important factor - I had vastly more money to throw at the problem this time around. His suggestion was that we contract for the services of a dedicated civil rights advocate legal firm. I nodded yes and told him to get the ball rolling. Then I forgot about it and went back to work.

* * *

Cindy had fallen in love with her new balls - the Ben-Wa balls. They would cause her to have an orgasm at any given time - walking, shopping, talking to her customers. I noticed that, like the reported action of the adult shop girl, when standing she would unconsciously move her hips back and forth to make the two balls vibrate together - I guess that is what they did. Of course, I had to take them out whenever I had pussy sex with her, but she always insisted that they go back in after I was finished. I put my foot down and made her remove them during her period so that her insides could recover from any damage or irritation the foreign objects might cause.

Mary had become her best friend by now, partly because of the help she gave when Cindy was recovering from her wound, so of course it was only a short time before her friend knew all about them. Cindy asked if I would get a set for Mary.

That night, a surprise was waiting for me in my quarters. Cindy met me at the door and escorted me to the bedroom. I stopped in the door, frozen at the sight of Mary flat on her back on the bed, naked and spread eagled in chains. "What the fuck...??" was the only question that immediately came to mind.

Cindy pulled me into the room. "You said her clicker balls were ready. I assumed that you would want to install them yourself to make sure the job was done right."

At the side of the bed, I looked down at the girl. She was about the same age as Cindy, but somewhat overweight - actually, lush would be the word. Nonetheless, she was certainly a desirable piece laying there with everything open. She was looking back at me with sort of a shy smile and probably wondering if this was a good idea. Cindy, on the other hand, was having a blast at the situation.

I looked at my girlfriend. "How is she going to hold them in?" We knew from experimentation that even tight panties weren't total insurance from a heavy ball dropping out.

"Three locks. Like mine," she answered. "We pierced her for them last month. Here. I picked up a set from your the supply room this week."

What the hell. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. My dick had already made its decision. I reached over and pinched one of Mary's nipples firmly. Pulling on it, I said, "And how do you plan to pay for these balls? They're very expensive."

She drew in a sharp breath, with an "Eeeee." Not loud, because I wasn't hurting her. It was just the sudden surprise of her private little nob being suddenly played with. "I don't know. I guess you will just have to take whatever you want in payment." I could tell that the prospect wasn't making her unhappy. Suddenly, two hands began to pull my polo shirt up over my head. I looked around and saw that Cindy had already dumped her clothes. Shortly, mine were in a pile beside hers.

She walked to the head of the bed, leaned over and inserted a ball gag in Mary's mouth. Lifting up her head, she wrapped the Velcro straps so that they seized together. Then she laid a blindfold mask over Mary's eyes and pulled the elastic band behind the supine girl's head. Looking at me, she said, "How's that, boyfriend?." She waved her hand back and forth over the girl. "The smorgasbord is ready. Which end do you want to start on?" Then she came over and rubbed her tits on my chest. "Just remember to save some room for desert."

I've had worse nights.

* * *

Before my arraignment we had filed a federal lawsuit against the city again for constitutional rights violations. But this time, the difference was that the papers were delivered in person by an attorney from an outfit known nationwide for cutting rogue DAs down to size. And the amount that we were asking in damages was ridiculous. Once again, my personal attorney told me to expect some visits from city hall wanting to get out of their mess without having to admit fault.

My arraignment was delayed for 'procedural reasons'. The reason being because of the first hearing, or whatever it was called, for my lawsuit. As the two home grown lawyers for the city were waiting, in marched three top end attorneys of mine - all wearing suits and watches worth about half a years salary for the locals. I could see the "Oh shit!" glances between my opponents as they realized that the DAs vote-getting action might have some serious consequences. I just sat there and watched, bored. As far as I was concerned, they weren't even speaking English.

* * *

I woke up about midnight. It had been a long week with the bullshit at the courthouse and the fact that my prime business was booming daily. I was going to have to decide fairly soon if I wanted to keep expanding or call a halt when I maxed out the space in my building. I swung my legs over the edge and sat up. Time to visit the bathroom - I had had way too much coffee too late. I noticed that both Cindy and Mary were still in position. Of course, it would have been very odd if they hadn't been, since the chain connecting their collars to the ceiling was rated at about a ton.

I got up and walked over to them. They were titty to titty, their collars locked to each other with a short chain, both arms behind the other and fastened, and both were sharing a single ball gag with two sets of straps. They tried to look at me with a pitiful expression as I fingered both for a minute before I moved on to the bathroom. Afterward, I decided that as long as I was up I might as well take advantage of the situation. I stepped behind Mary, pushed her legs apart, and proceeded to feed my dong up her rear shaft. She had just recently been introduced to the sodom act, so she did some major wiggling as I pumped away. In this position, I could grab two sets of tits, and squeeze four nipples at the same time. Not a bad consolation to the necessity of having to wake up to pee.

* * *

I was beginning to limit my customer base for sexual items. I didn't really want to become a major manufacturer of bondage equipment. What I really wanted to do was experiment with new things, not just make the same stuff over and over again. It was just a hobby that let me experiment with different types of far-out equipment.

Mary was now a part time live-in girlfriend along with Cindy. Sometimes on a slow day at the Woman's shop, she would come over and get stretched out in some piece of equipment that I was testing. Or just stretched out because I liked to see a woman in that position. Cindy liked being stung with a whip, but only as an adjunct to her "refusing" to do an act during her bondage sessions. It didn't take much before she started doing whatever was required to make the punishment stop. But with Mary, she could hold out far longer under the whip, or on the rack, or being swung from the ceiling or whatever. In fact, I had to stop sometimes to make sure that I wasn't damaging any part of her. From some of my customers, I knew that women with the real masochistic desire existed - she just happened to be the first one that I had actually come across.

As to my slaves below ground, from my one way mirror I had caught them performing on each other several times. And I assumed that for every time that I had actually seen them laid out and licking or fingering each other, there were probably dozens of times that I hadn't seen. As I thought back, it was inevitable - they had nothing to do between my visits - no TV, no books, no nothing but white walls and bondage gear. The boredom brought them to do willingly what they had refused to do months before.

* * *

My secretary rung the interoffice phone. "Mr. Barton. An assistant District Attorney is here to see you." Ah ha! So the fun is starting again. The door opened and he was escorted in. Except that he was a she. In fact, it was the same female attorney who I crossed swords with in the last incident. "This is Ms. Wilson," was how she was introduced. I waved to a chair and waited for her to sit down and start the session. When the door closed again, I just leaned forward on my elbows and looked at her. She was a nice looking woman - really nice, except that in that pseudo male business suit she didn't exactly come across like a Parisian model.

She went through the motions of opening her briefcase and pulling out a sheaf of papers. They could have been just props since she didn't seem to care what they contained. "Mr. Barton. I'm sure you have figured out that I'm here to discuss your case."

I smiled. An outrageous thought had just entered my head. Never mind. It's a thought for later. "I prefer to think of it as round two, Ms. Wilson." She started to reply, but I continued, "Which official needs some sound bites for the upcoming election?"

Of course, she could only respond with the company line. "I can assure you sir, that our office is run entirely without consideration of politics."

"If you actually believe that, Ms. Wilson, then you are not only too young but you are far too naive for your job. As an aside, isn't the proper procedure for you to talk to my lawyer rather than me?"

I watched her trying to decide which sentence to reply to, then swallowed the implied insult and answered the second. "The DA thought that a little off the record conversation might get us to a resolution."

I smiled again, this time grimly. "In other words, that the average person might understand, your boss has realized that my New York law firm is probably going to hang his ass out to dry." I held up my hand as she started to retort. "Just to set the machine to the home position, let me say that I am not going to agree to plead my case down, or to drop my countersuit, or probably anything else you are prepared to offer. This one is going all the way." I was puzzled somewhat by her attitude. She didn't seem upset at my refusal to cooperate.

That afternoon I walked over to my attorney's office and told him about the encounter. After grilling me about what happened, he sat back and looked at me over steepled fingers. "Bob, you're operating on a false set of assumptions. This little girl, as you call her, is the reason you got arrested. In fact, according to my contacts, it was her idea from the start."

I looked back at him with widened eyes. "What did I do to get on her hit list? Or does my hobby just offend her sense of propriety?"

"None of the above. She doesn't expect to win this thing. Especially now with all our muscle on the job. She's using it to hose her competition in the DA's office." I started to comment, but he held up his hand and went on. "When this falls on its face, the DA is going to be royally pissed, especially in an election year, and is going to hang someone as a scapegoat. But not her - she's too far down to get the blame. Specifically someone above her in the office hierarchy. Then up she goes to the next rung." He leaned over and with emphasis warned me, "Don't match swords with this girl. She's Capone's great great granddaughter in thought and morals. You might think you are playing with her, but believe me, it isn't for fun and games from her end."

That night I was a bad slave master - bad as in, I wasn't interested in playing around. Cindy and Mary finally went off to find pleasure with each other as I just sat around and thought. I was feeling somewhat persecuted. I had assumed that my hobby business was an affront to the local establishment, and now I had found that I was just a pawn in an office climbing scheme. What ticked me was that the instigator didn't care who got hurt in her climb. If I had to spend thousands to defend myself, tough. If I just got unlucky and lost my business or my freedom, or both, well, that was even tougher, but her necessity to rise in her profession was worth anybody else's suffering.

Right now my legal costs were just a little less than my income. In other words, I was working entirely for the legal profession.

That night Cathy and June paid for my bad mood. I hung them both up by their wrists, picked up a pseudo bull whip, and proceeded to make them writhe and scream.

* * *

Over the following weeks, I mused about what I could do about the little bitch in the DA's office. Obviously, contracting to Shive to knock her in the head was out. As was feeding her a Mickey Finn. Both would be tough to do and besides, I would be high on the list of suspects if she was found laying in some alley somewhere. Besides, while I am perfectly willing to use any force required for self defense, I am really not into premeditated murder. I satisfied myself by just observing her when the occasion presented itself.

One item that came up quickly was that she was a workaholic. Obviously, that fit in with the idea that she was a serious climber in her office hierarchy. In fact, her car was still in the parking lot long after the courthouse closed, including Saturday at noon. And, many weekends her car was parked there on Sunday. That fact was interesting, but I didn't see any value in it.

Or did I?...

After a few weeks of casual observation and fact-finding, I corrected my impression that I was the major target in her career plans. As it turned out, I was a very minor player - just another schmuck in her climb up the ladder. She had much bigger fish that she was trying to fry. Great! That meant that my half baked plan could start being developed.

* * *

Meanwhile, I had fun with my two underground bitches. For a while I played with absolute restraint. First, a girl would have her ankles chained as wide as her legs would spread, standing up with her hands manacled behind her. Then a non-flexible band was bolted around her waist at the narrowest part. Four chains attached to an eyebolt in the band at her front, back and both sides, and led out horizontal to the nearest wall or pillar. One of these chains would have a turnbuckle that could be tightened, and when it was, the four chains tightened up into a bar taut and unbreakable support for the band. There was no pressure on the girl - in fact, the band would be held in the same unmovable location whether the girl was in it or not. As such, the middle of her body could barely wiggle - the band itself would move not at all.

The same thing was done with a collar around her neck. When that associated turnbuckle was tightened, her neck and upper body were held immobile in the collar held in place by thousand pound test chain.

Finally, a tight leather hood was laced onto her head, and three chains led from equidistant points around the top of the mask to eyebolts in the ceiling a few feet away from her. These couldn't be massively tightened since otherwise they would be trying to pull her head off, but they were snug enough that her head could neither rotate nor nod.

Standing back and looking at my new living statue, I realize that I had made a mistake. The waist chains attached horizontally in the front and back precluded any normal sexual use of her. I could still poke her, front or rear, but only by laying down on my back on a short table under her. Not satisfactory.

The fix was easy. I just rotated the waist band, neck collar and associated chains to where they came out at her front and rear quarters, so to speak. Now I could approach her standing up front or back. It was a good configuration for corporal punishment also. Everything was open to my riding crop and the victim... sub could only squeal - movement out of the line of fire was out of the question.

It was fun. Well, on my part at least. Apparently it is fairly intense torture to not be able to move for hours in a standing position, whether you are whipped or not.

By now the girls pussy lips had stretched considerably from the golden weights. I wondered just how long they would get.

* * *

One day a major shock struck both me and Mary. Cindy had discovered a new and very wealthy boyfriend and was moving to California with him. She told us one night, crying and apologetic - blubbering her grief at breaking up what had been a very good partnership. I wasn't happy to see her go - it would be like losing a close friend, which she was. But, I assured her that life moves on and that I was happy for her and that it wasn't like she was disappearing forever. I wasn't totally dismayed. I really liked Cindy - I don't know if it was love, since I had no idea how to recognize the condition - but I knew everything about her and her body, and frankly, I enjoyed using new women acquaintances more than her now. Of course, I didn't say that.

Mary, on the other hand, blubbered all evening until I threatened to tie her down and whack some sense into her. Of course, that didn't work. She offered to go get the whip.

For the next couple of weeks, we helped her get packed, and ready to move. Her business went on the block, and since her books could show a solid profit, sold quickly. The day came, and with both girls bawling, sobbing and blubbering in turn, we saw her off. Even I had trouble holding back the tears.

* * *

I was under City Hall looking up at a metal trap door. I didn't know if it was locked from above, but I did know that the decades of disuse had rusted it in place. Using a small hydraulic jack on a stand, I slowly began to pump. It was late at night on a weekend so I expected nobody to be in the building to hear as the door squeaked and popped and finally began to open. With it cracked a couple of inches, I could see that the unknown room above was totally dark so I continued to pump until the trap door was standing vertically by itself - held in place by it's own rusted hinges. Standing waist high in the opening I shined my flashlight around. This was an abandoned boiler room. Long abandoned, since the boiler itself had a factory stamp of 1927 imbedded in the frame. Climbing into the room, I looked around at the rusted junk. This room couldn't have been used since WWII.

I stepped to the door, and tried to open it but it was locked with an ancient deadbolt. Using a manual hydraulic shear, I cut the face of the lock off, slowly opened the squeaking door and looked out at a set of stairs leading up. Tomorrow I would replace the deadbolt with one of my own - one that was weathered to look as ancient as the one I had just removed. At the top of the stairs was another door and another deadbolt, but this one was one sided and could be unlocked from inside. On the other side was the equipment room for the building, and through the opposite door was a hallway. I had made it into the courthouse.

I spent the next hour installing my own lock underneath the trapdoor so that it couldn't be opened from above without a cutting torch. With that, I closed it, locked it, and left.

* * *

By now, Mary was fully inked. There wasn't a square inch of skin, besides her face, that wasn't covered with pictures. I wasn't that into tattoos, but she was an awesome sight when her plump body was naked and on display. She was also fully into pain now. She took the place of Cindy when it came to punishment. About once a week or so I would string her up in the back room of my apartment and lash her unmercifully. She could take pain that even I would have trouble withstanding.

Shit! Who am I kidding? She wanted punishments that would have me blubbering confessions to every crime that had happened in the city in the last year.

She was now out of a job - the new owners bringing in their own staff, but she was ok with that. It wouldn't have been the same anyway. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to move out of her apartment and in with me as my punishment slave. By now her B&D play had become real. She wanted to be actually owned and I was trying to decide whether or not to haul her down to the dungeon as a permanent slave. For now, I took every last stitch of her clothes and locked them in a storage closet in the plant below. Now she would be naked all the time and stuck in my apartment. I put a major lock on my closet so she couldn't get to mine, and she knew that any naked and massively tattooed woman caught on the streets of the city would be in trouble big time.

Not that she wanted to leave, but the idea that she couldn't, excited her.

Along about this time, I pierced her tongue and started her on being able to retain a ball gag for long periods.

I fitted the back room up as a mini dungeon, and anytime I wanted to visit my harem downstairs, Mary would be chained to something so that she couldn't wander downstairs at night and discover my secret opening. She also became my cook and housemaid.

* * *

During the next week, I made several trips to City Hall for various forms and information, during which I discovered where Ms. Wilson's office was. I also observed the location of the ladies' rooms and several other interesting items. I also ordered a special item from Shive. Many weekends I enjoyed the fine weather at an outside table in the coffee shop across from the courthouse square - even on Sundays when they were closed. I knew the owner and he didn't mind if I used my own coffee and his table at that time. I not only accomplished a lot of my business paperwork at those times, but I also made notes about what happened in the courthouse on weekends. Not much, actually.

Finally, I made up my mind to make the move.

Meanwhile, I drilled a moderate sized hole in the dungeon floor and concreted in a three inch heavy wall steel pipe, about six feet tall. My two slaves watched warily as it was installed, no doubt wondering just what new implement was being build for their benefit. I couldn't finish it until I had the exact measurements of my proposed acquisition.

One Sunday after another passed without her working. I needed a Sunday because on most Saturdays there were at least two or three other people working in the building. Finally, the day came with her car entering the parking lot at about 10 am. Her's was the only one in the lot.

I hurried back to my building, entered the basement and started down the series of tunnels leading to the courthouse. Shortly, I was inside and peeking out of the equipment room doorway and looking down the hall. Looking around for any other people, but trying to appear like I wasn't sneaking, I walked down toward the door leading to her office. I stopped behind a phony potted palm tree that I had moved a few feet several weeks before and peeked across the hall though the glass in the door of the DA's office. There she was, at her desk, across the room and with her back mostly to me. I immediately moved down the hall and taped signs to the men's and women's restrooms.

Then back to my equipment room where I settled down on an old metal stool looking out the barely cracked door. Two things had to happen now. First, her woman's bladder needed to be female normal - that is, hopefully she would need to have to pee about every two hours, sooner if that was coffee in the cup I could see on her desk. Second, everybody else needed to decide not to come in on Sunday.

Sure enough, about thirty minutes later, I saw the main DA's office door open and her head for the little girl's room. She stopped and read the handmade sign I had taped there earlier. With a most unfeminine "Shit!," she turned and headed for the stairs. As soon as she disappeared through the stairwell door, I quickly moved across to her office. If the door had been locked, I was prepared, but it wasn't. It only took a few seconds to cross the open office, around the desks, to her little cubicle. I already had the lid off a small vial of liquid that I had obtained from Shive and into the coffee pot it went. In a few seconds, I was back in the equipment room looking down the hall through the cracked door. As it turned out, I had plenty of time. Several minutes went by before she returned.

By now my heart was pounding and the adrenaline was pumping full tilt. Up to now, if anything went wrong, all I had to do was disappear and let the powers that be wonder what happened. But shortly would be make or break time. If I screwed this up, I was going to be going up the river for a long time.

I watched for a long while as she shuffled papers around, occasionally sipping from her cup of coffee. Eventually, she tilted her head back, then put her hand to her forehead. I saw her shake her head, apparently trying to clear it. She stood up, unsteadily, started to move to somewhere, then apparently changed her mind and turned around and reached for the phone. Then she disappeared as she collapsed behind another desk. I sprang into action. First, I ripped my signs off the bathroom doors and stuffed them into my back pocket. Then I entered her office and found her unconscious on the floor, as expected. Pulling a plastic bag out of my other pocket, I dropped her Styrofoam cup into it, coffee and all, and sealed it up. I pushed her chair back under the desk and set all the papers in a neat pile to look like she hadn't worked here this weekend. Then a trip to the hall to make sure that nobody was coming.

I looked around and went over my long memorized checklist. I had her purse - leaving it there would be a red flag that something was wrong as no woman would ever leave it behind. Nope, nothing els... Yes! The coffee pot. I quickly walked over, turned it off, and dumped the coffee in the sink. The filter and grounds went into my plastic bag with her cup. Then another trip to the hall for another security check.

It was just a few seconds more to get her over my shoulder and - locking the DA's office as I left - into the equipment room and that door locked. Now I was breathing easier as I set her down beside the rusty trap door leading to the underground tunnel. I thought over my actions - had I left anything undone? Couldn't think of anything and if there was, too bad. Of course, I was wearing gloves the whole time but for this to work, no indication that she came in on Sunday could be left.

By the time I had maneuvered her limp body through the tunnels and across town to my dungeon, I was ready to collapse. The adrenaline flow had stopped and my legs would barely keep me upright. As I lay her on the floor beside June and Cathy, I just flopped down myself. Jesus H. Keerist! What the hell had I done?! Keeping two unknown cunts as unwilling subs was one thing, but now I had a very well known and soon to be very missed addition. But it was done and there was no going back now. As my two slaves watched wide eyed, I stripped every stitch of clothes of off the young woman and locked a collar around her neck. A heavy chain soon connected her to the wall with most of the slack taken out by being folded back and locked to itself. As long as she was unconscious I made a series of measurements of her vitals so as to have some info to build certain... well, gadgets.

Because she was probably going to go berserk when she woke up, I also put bracelets on her wrists and ankles and connected them with a chain, left ankle to left wrist and the same on her other side. Now she could stand up and move around, like to the floor toilet, but she was very restricted in the use of her arms and hands as they wouldn't rise above her waist unless she sat down and bent her knees.

Suddenly I remembered the last part of this act and ran upstairs to the phone.

That afternoon, a check of the courthouse parking lot showed that her car was gone. So, Shive had accomplished his part of the plan. By tonight her car would be just a set of anonymous parts in some chop shop. I relaxed in my office that afternoon, letting the emotions of the morning gradually dissipate. The two signs that I had used were on my desk. I unfolded one and read the handwritten printing, "Out of order. Water off. Use restrooms on second floor." Of course, the reason for them was to extend her visit to the little girl's room considerably by making her walk upstairs and back. I tore them up and dropped them in the trash.

Months ago I had installed a kitchen with electric stove and 'fridge in the dungeon so that the girls could make their own meals. It was too much of a hassle for me to do so, and eventually someone was going to comment on my buying so much ready-to-eat food. I had given orders for them to feed my new possession when she woke, if she wanted to eat. Of course, she was going to have to get used to a much plainer course than she probably was used to.

I heard nothing all day Monday of any problems at the courthouse, but by Tuesday the news was all over town, TV, radio and all. Even my attorney came by with the gossip. I evinced mild interest, and asked what effect it would have on our legal problems.

"Probably not much," he replied. "She was the instigator of the action against you, but as far as I know, she wasn't active in the case. The other staff are handling our action. By the way, I was told to expect an offer from them shortly."

"An offer?" I asked.

"Probably a settlement or the like. What we do with it will depend on how much money you want to spend."

The rest of the day was a normal workday for me. I hadn't gone into the dungeon since I had left my new possession on Sunday - I didn't want to be underground in case of a raid. I wasn't expecting one since I was just one of many schmucks whom she had dealt with in her fairly short career. I assumed that someone would want to ask me questions, since I had dealt with her briefly a couple of times. Sure enough, that afternoon a detective called and asked some routine questions. I answered truthfully - I had only seen her a couple of times when she came by my office, and that was quite a while ago. I could tell by his level of boredom and disinterest in my answers that I was not even in the running as a suspect.

Wednesday night was the first chance I had to examine my new possession. I headed downstairs fully expecting to have a wildcat in a trap.

I wasn't disappointed. As soon as I appeared in front of her vision, she was on her feet and building up a full head of pressure. Apparently, I wasn't who she was expecting, but there is no doubt that she recognized me immediately.

"You!!" she exclaimed as she rose to her feet. She tried to gesture with her hands but with her now standing, they wouldn't rise above her waist. But her mouth wasn't restrained in any way. Sanitized, she started sort of as follows... "You cocksucking son of a bitch! I'll have your goddamned ass in a solitary cage for the rest of your life! Take these off of me right now!" At the moment she wasn't the beautiful bitch that I remembered, at least from the neck up, with her face distorted with rage and hatred. She had either forgotten, or didn't care, that she was totally naked and standing before a stranger.

I noticed my other two girls watching wide-eyed from their corner. After months of boredom and only seeing each other and me, this was a definite excitement in their lives. I walked up to the raging girl and stopped out of reach of her chained wrists. So far I had said not a word, but just let her spew on from the mouth. I won't bother listing the bulk of the one-sided conversation, since it was just one long stream of profanity and threats.

At what I was assuming was about the halfway point of her tirade, I turned to the new pole that I had installed recently. At the base of it were certain attachments that I had passed time making during the day. These would be enhancements on the absolute restraint that I had been playing with recently. The first was a thick neck collar with a threaded rod welded to the back and sticking out. I had made a list of important measurements of the new slave and knew exactly how high she would stand straddle legged. I inserted the rod into a hole in the vertical pole at the level of her neck and fastened it snuggly with hex nuts. This particular collar was built in two halves that would also be bolted to each other. At the moment, the other half was still laying on the floor.

A larger ring was installed exactly the same way, but at the level of her waist. Again, half of this larger ring was left off. I motioned to June and Cathy to stand up and come over. "Each of you, take one of her arms with both hands. And don't let go! Understand?" Fearfully, they nodded.

As they grabbed her, she increased her level of threats and began to resist. My two slaves were only girls, but the arms they were holding only had the strength of one girl, so despite my victim's struggles, she was held tight. I removed the slack reducing lock from her neck chain and slowly pushed my three sirens over to the pole. The screaming girl was backed into the open rings and I immediately bolted the other half of the neck ring in place, followed by the waist ring. I waved my two helpers back to their corner.

I picked up an ankle spreader and attached on end to an ankle. Then, against her futile resistance, I spread her legs fully and attached the other ankle. Standing back, I admired my work and the beautiful, if almost incoherently furious, new addition to the dungeon. By now of course, my dick was in full extension, and in fact, was stuck in my shorts in the wrong way. What the heck, I pulled off my shirt and shorts and let her see what she was going to have to entertain from now on. The stream of profanity tapered off as her situation apparently began to dawn on her. Her eyes wouldn't leave my pointing johnson.

After letting her have a few seconds of gazing, I moved behind her with two more rodded rings. I unlocked a wrist from the chain bracelet and bolted the wrist ring around it. Then I pulled it behind her and pushed the threaded rod into an appropriate hole and locked it in place. Then the other wrist.

Now I had a girl in total restraint - almost - standing wide legged about a foot away from an unyielding steel pole, and held in place around her neck and waist by steel rings attached by rods to the pole. Her ankles were in a steel spreader bar. Her arms were held behind her and out either side of the pole by smaller rings. I had an attachment to immobilize her head, but I didn't use it right then.

With a ball gag hidden in a closed fist, I walked up to her face, waited for her to open her mouth - which she did immediately - and jammed it in, holding it in place by wrapping the Velcro strips behind her head. It became quiet for the first time since I had entered the dungeon.

Now it was time to admire my new possession. She was beautiful - about 5'6", brunette, full lips, nice and high knockers, and an already shaved pussy. Her crack was wide open and waiting and it took all my will power not to stuff it right then. I reached out and weighed her tits, then pulled on the big nipples. Nice! Her expression and shouting around the gag made me believe that this was probably the first time either of those bumps had been fooled with without her permission. I expected that she was going to have real trouble when I started playing with her other stuff.

I walked over to the opposite wall and removed a genuine bull whip from a hanger on the wall, flipped the coils out onto the floor, then mildly cracked it a couple of times. It was only for show - I would never use it on a girl since it would quickly turn her into ragged meat. But as an attention getter for a new slave, it had no equal. I stepped in front of my new acquisition and held the handle up in front of her eyes. They were as wide as they could get and for the first time she wasn't trying to protest around her gag. I looked her in the eyes and said, "You no longer have to concern yourself with promotions, subpoenas, paperwork and the like. All you have to worry about is making this happy." I stepped close to her so that the head of my dick could rub against her stomach. Sombitch! It was all I could do to keep the bodily fluids from spraying all over her.

She looked down fearfully at my rock hard rod and tried to say something, but all that came out was a mew like a kitten. I reached down with my free hand and gently grabbed a handful of pussy lips. Then spreading them with two fingers, I inserted the middle one as far as it would go. From her expression and quick intake of breath, I surmised that this was the first time that she had been fingered without her permission, also. The interval of threats were now over - the next time she would be able to talk would bring the pleading and the inevitable offers of dropping all charges and forgetting that this ever happened if only I would let her go. I decided that I might as well get it over with and removed the gag.

Sure enough, she started in. In the next few minutes I was taken to the top of the mountain and offered all the kingdoms of earth - or equivalent. She offered to get all the charges dropped, reimbursement for all my expenses and some money to boot, and of course, to totally forget that any of this had happened. I listened politely and nodded at the appropriate times. Eventually, she ran down and waited for my grateful appreciation of her offers. What she got wasn't exactly what she expected.

I called my pair of cunts over, unmanacled the new slave's hands and had them rotate her 180 until she was facing the pole. Of course, with her ankles spread at maximum stretch, she turned around in a series of little hops from one foot to the other. Then her wrists were placed back in the manacles on the pole. I took my wide punishment strap off it's storage place on the far wall - unlike the bull whip, this was a much used item in the dungeon.

Moving up to her side, I said harshly, "Lissen up, cunt. You're now my slave - my sex slave - and you will be until you die. When that will be will depend on just how happy I am with your performance over time. You will do what I say and how I say and as long as I say. If I want to fuck you, the first thing on your mind will be to drop to your back and spread your legs. If I want to pack your poop chute, you will bend over and spread your cheeks. If I tell you to eat my shit, you will grab a spoon and start in."

With that, I backed up and lined up my stroke. The strap hit with a loud twack across her back. It took a moment for her nervous system to realize what had happened then she let out a scream at the top of her lungs. Several more followed at about thirty second intervals. By the time of the last one she would probably have collapsed on the floor if the steel pole and accessories weren't holding her up.

After a while she calmed down and I released her from her standing position. Then my other two girls strapped her face up in my suspension rack. Making sure she could see my swinging hard, I step up to her and inserted it slowly up her crack. I had never had a piece of ass that gave me more satisfaction. By now, she was just staring at the ceiling, stunned.

During the next several weeks, I enjoyed my new captive every night - well, almost. A couple of evenings a week I had to service Mary.

I began to work on the second phase of revenge. A trip to Brazil and several thousand Yankee dollars got me a visiting back alley surgeon and nurse. One night, I brought my now fairly broken slave to a hidden room upstairs in the back of the second floor. An operation was performed on her, the two medical visitors stayed around for a day or so to make sure that nothing had gone wrong, then I drove them back to the airport. In a few weeks, after several bottles of just-in-case antibiotics, she had healed completely and was as good as new. Well almost. She was much quieter, since her vocal cords had been removed. Of course, she was horrified at what had been done to her once she came to. At least, I assume that she was horrified - there was no way for her to tell me.

Now the rest of the fun could start. I got the two original girls to begin to depilate her, from her nose to her feet. They had plenty of time, since my next project was going to take a long time. At this time, I put her on a one thousand calorie diet until she had lost about 12 pounds.

After a few tries, I got a set of steel panties made. It was slow going, but eventually they resembled the old chain or ring mail of feudal knights, only the links were much finer and made of shiny stainless. They weren't made in bikini style since that type could be easily taken off. Rather they were full panty dimensions, the top starting at the small of the waist. Oh yes, they were also crotchless, since I didn't want them to prohibit my use of the merchandise.

I fit them to her, then closed the tiny connecting links permanently. They were not loose but not tight yet either, and definitely could not be taken off - at least, not without a power shear at the least. She was beautiful, standing there in shiny chain link drawers. And this was only the starting place.

* * *

Her disappearance was a one week sensation. I suspect that everybody that she had ever come into contact with was interviewed, and some of the dudes that she had helped put away were probably questioned in less than friendly fashion. Other than a couple of casual question periods by a bored dick, I was ignored. After all, who would suspect someone who lived and worked just a block from the scene of the crime and less than a block from the main police station. Obviously, the perp was some scumbag from her past and who was now long gone.

My suit with the city was finally settled on terms that I expected would protect me from any further harassment. Besides, by now even Texas was beginning to enter the modern sexual age where sex and fetishism and even homosexuality were, if not welcomed, then mostly ignored.

My business prospered. My new hobby did also. The next item for my slave was a blouse - not from the local store, this, but also made exactly to her form and covering from where it was attached to the neck collar down to her metal panties and then along her arms and attached to her wrist bracelets. It also acted as a bra and gave quite a bit of support. Months and months went by as I built the garment, one fine metal ring at a time, and test fitting the "garment" to her whenever I descended into the dungeon for some ass. By now, she was resigned to being used as an available whore - or if not resigned, then she knew very well to cooperate and not complain.

The next items were two individual pant legs, attached at the top to her panties and at the ankles to the bracelets. Then metal socks and gloves. All of this was excruciatingly slow, with me sometimes having to toss the current piece and start over. Finally, almost two years later, she was encased in a solid garment of very flexible metal, the only openings being for her ponytail, eyes, mouth, nipples, and a slit for her pussy and asshole. She could bathe, since the linked garment was as porous to water as a screen door, but unless she wanted to stick a metal clad finger into her mouth or one of the other two holes, she could touch no part of her body directly. Well, she could tweak her nipples, also, I guess.

Now I allowed her more to eat so that her body could get back to its normal weight. The steel suit had of necessity been made somewhat loosely since that was the only way I could fit it to her. Now, as she put on the previously lost pounds, the metal garment filled out to a snug and shiny skin.

She was a sight to behold. It was a one piece garment, shiny silver, flexible and totally non-removable. She was like something in a fantasy comic book. Her form was obviously that of a beautifully built woman, but totally unrecognizable as an individual, of course, and with no voice, she couldn't tell anybody of her plight even if there had been anybody to tell. The suit of metal was totally flexible - her arms and legs would move normally, she could be screwed fore and aft just like a normal woman and since the metal lay next to her skin, it was at body temperature. Of course, laying on her didn't give the feel of a soft woman, but the different stimulation of the small links - not to mention the imagination of what I was screwing - just added to the eroticism.

I had named her Metalica.

* * *

I had a friend in the electronics business build me an apparatus that included a modified cattle prod. That is, the intensity of the shock could be varied by me at will. For its use, I built - well, it could only be called an electric chair. It was a beautiful thing, built of mahogany, but with metal fasteners at strategic locations. A girl could be strapped into it with connections to her four bracelets and her neck collar. A metal plate on the chair gave it a place for the juice to return to - a ground. I wanted it for Metalica, but I needed to calibrate it with a woman who could scream and give me an idea of how hard it was working.

June was the guinea pig. Once she was secured and the clips connected to her rings, I selected a low setting on my control panel and pushed the button. She yelped and jumped, or tried to, then let out a wail that continued until I let go of the button. Not bad to be just the second notch from the bottom. I turned the selection switch to midway and hit the button again.

This time she not only jumped and twitched, but let out an ear splitting scream - one after another as fast as she could draw breath. This level was obviously more than painful. I went up two more notches. She howled like a banshee after just a second or so at that level. After three or four more pushes of the button, she was panting with her tongue out and sweat was pouring off her body.

I locked out the two settings above that - I didn't want a fried girl on my hands.

Metalica was a different problem. She couldn't be hooked up the same way since her steel leotard would just short out the current. With her I just had one wire connected to her suit and another in a metal dildo stuck up her pussy and insulated at the bottom so it wouldn't short out on the metal on either side of her slit. The metal plate on the seat was removed. When she was hooked up, I stood back and looked her over. I had Cathy at the control panel beside her, waiting, and trying to be very cooperative in the hope that she wouldn't get to try the ride.

I bent over and looked my metal girl in the eyes. "This is partial payment for your part in trying to get me jailed, Metalica." I had a cruel smile showing. "And remember, it's only partial payment." I looked over at Cathy and nodded. She pushed the red button.

The wired up girl jumped, stiffened and thrashed in her unyielding metal bonds, all the while with her mouth open and trying to scream. Nothing but throat and air noises came out, of course. I let her have a full minute before I waved at Cathy to let go of the button. The girl just went limp and her head fell as far forward as her neck would allow. Her bladder had let go and piss was pouring off the chair onto the floor. She was panting heavily and every few seconds some part of her body would give a spasmodic series of jerks that gradually diminished in the next few minutes.

The chair was a hit - well, at least for me. It was the most fearful item in the dungeon to the girls - by far. All I had to do from then on was to hint that a girl was going to get an electric session. That would turn any of them into a quivering, whimpering and begging slave.

* * *

Downtown began a building renaissance and I needed to improve the looks of my WWII concrete building. By now money was the least of my worries, so I had the building totally redone as a two story structure with a much more modern machine shop on the bottom floor and an upscale apartment for me on the second floor. It took some doing with some immigrant workers after the project was complete, but I managed to have a disguised stairwell built leading only from my bedroom to the dungeon. It was contained between two new concrete walls so it was totally concealed unless you knew the secret of lifting my king sized bed from the floor. This one had several one way mirrors that allowed me to stand in the stairwell and observe my harem, unobserved. Now I could visit my dungeon night or day without worry that someone would find the opening or hear suspicious clanking sounds.

By now, I had become acquainted with a half dozen upper class men who were also interested in B&D and had formed a secret club to exchange and enjoy each other's wares. One of the rules was that nobody ever asked about the status of a slave - in that manner, no one would ever be called on to lie about knowing if a girl was willing or not. And the status of the members was such that any expose would be a social disaster, and therefore it was in the interests of each member to be absolutely discrete. For a long time, I usually used Mary for my available sub. In this case it wasn't a question of willingness or not - she loved the idea of being forcible restrained and given to other men. At other times, I would walk either or both June and Cathy up to my quarters to wait for the night's fun. Of course, they were always with a non-removable pierced tongue gag so they couldn't speak of where they had been brought up from.

Of course, I never even hinted of my dungeon two levels below to my club members.

* * *

One day, Shive came by for a visit. I was glad to see him and we headed for the bar and rehashed what each had been doing. I left out a lot, and I assume he did also, but he now had his own organization - a polite word for mob, I assumed. Over my protests, he gave me full credit for getting him out of the loan shark gutter and into his new "career." Finally, as the bar was closing, he said that he was going to check in with a girl he knew and get some lodging for the night.

"Hell no, Shive." I retorted. "You're going to stay at my place."

"Thanks, 'bro," he replied, "But I want more than just a bed for tonight."

I smiled. "Believe me, you're going to get a lot more than just a bed." Light dawned in his face as he translated the give and take.

Back at my place, I poured us another nightcap, and guided him down the long unfinished hall to a particular door. I pointed. "Abandon hope, all ye who enter." He looked at me, puzzled. I had wasted the quote from Dante's Inferno on a man who had never read anything more complicated than comic books. "Do anything you want with the merchandise." He understood that, and I turned and left.

I knew that he was going to find a plump, big tittied girl with an absolutely unbelievable assortment of skin art and an insatiable appetite for sex. One that was chained by the neck to the wall of her room. I hoped her weirdness wasn't a turnoff for him.

Ten o'clock the next morning, Shive still hadn't appeared, despite his telling me the night before that he had to be back home by noon. I didn't want to go down to the dungeon for fear that he would wander around looking for me at the time I was opening or closing the hidden trapdoor. So I headed down into the machine shop and watched the activity for a while.

One, then three o'clock rolled around and still no Shive. Damn, did Mary's twat suck him in and he was now trapped? Or had he passed out from fluid exhaustion? I knew that food and drink wasn't a problem - she had her own little kitchen - but...

Finally, about five thirty, I heard the far door close, and in a few seconds he appeared in my quarters. His impeccably groomed look and thousand dollar outfit now looked like... Well, to be honest, I have seen bums down at the railroad yard waking up from a night of rotgut that looked more alive.

He flopped down in my overstuffed chair and I handed him a stiff jolt in a glass. Looking at him quizzically, I asked, "Was she ok?"

Gulp - and half of the liquid was gone. "Goddam, bro. That woman could suck a damn watermelon through a straw." I took that as a yes. "Where in the fuck did you get her?"

I sat down too. "Actually, I didn't 'get' her. She was an employee of Cindy's and both she and I kind of developed Mary into what she is."

"Sumbitch. I've never had a woman that was just pure... ah... shit, I don't know, but this one is fucking unbelievable. Man, thanks for the use. I hope you'll invite me back sometime."

"Invite, bull," I retorted. "You can come visit and have her anytime you want. You've done a ton of good stuff for me, Shive. Far more than you know."

We talked for a while, then he finally dragged himself to his feet and headed out. I could tell that he was weighing the possibilities of staying another night with whatever it was that he had supposed to be doing today.

* * *

I really enjoyed my metal clad girl. It was the thought of her condition that was more erotic than any sex she could provide. A condition of having been a woman on the climb up the political ladder - one who would be feared by any person who crossed her path - but who was now nothing. Less than nothing and not even able to plead, beg or bribe. Even less than that. She was now even unable to do the simplest tasks, like feeding herself, or brushing her teeth - she couldn't even wipe her own ass. My other two slaves had to tend to her feeding and hygiene. I had removed her metal gloves and replaced them with the same type of metal link cloth, but as thumbless mittens. Now she couldn't pick up a fork, or a piece of meat, or even something as big as a glass of water - at least not without using both hands and being very careful, since the metal was very slick. It also didn't help that her wrist bracelets were usually fastened behind her or to her collar.

She was a slave of slaves. I let the girls use her how they wanted, and what they usually wanted was their pussies licked, or their assholes tongued. And of course, since bullying always feeds on itself, they became even more demanding. Several times, from my hidden vantage point, I saw Metalica spread out on a table, arms and legs attached at the corners and with one of the girls squatting over her face and pissing into her open mouth, or said open mouth sucking on the girls peehole as the stream came out. I didn't interfere - Metalica was a nobody with no rights anyway.

On occasion I actually slept with her in my bed. She always had her wrists fastened together behind her, or to the headboard or somewhere - I didn't want her to try to strangle me in my sleep. But she would lay beside me, and I would talk to her all the while as my fingers explored her two available holes. Her tits could only be felt through the metal fabric, which was unsatisfactory, but her nipples were available for tweaking.

Of course, my conversation was always condescending, as I complimented her on being a true slave girl, whose only use was as an available cunt and asshole for the use of men. And so forth. And I told her about happenings in the outside world - a world that I continually emphasized that she would never see again. Since the conversation only went one way, and her expression could never be seen, even in the light, I could only assume that she hated me with every fiber of her body. That was ok, too.

Then, eventually, I would usually turn her over and enter her twat or ass from behind, then unload into her. Afterwards, I would give her something that I hoped was infuriating, like "Ok bitch. That's all you're good for tonight," and roll over and go to sleep.

* * *

I was now very wealthy and had turned the business over to a manager. It took a long time to find one that I wanted - one who considered customers to be assets, rather than just chumps with money to be fleeced. But I eventually did, and semi retired from the business. All I was concerned with now was my little speciality machine shop in the back where I continued to experiment and turn out special items for myself, my friends, and some special customers.

By now, the weights on both Cathy's and June's pussy lips had stretched them to almost six inches. They were quite a sight as they flapped back and forth as they walked. By attaching a rubber band to the weights on one lip, and running it round her body to the other side to the other weights, her pussy would be stretched wide open for view or use. It was fun. I had let them put on weight, and they were now both chubby, with considerably larger and bra-less pendulous boobs swinging in front. They had about forgotten what it was like to wear clothes.

Metalica got some new attachments. First, her nipples were pierced at the base, just like she was going to get rings or nipple stretchers installed, then left to heal. I had made some steel nipples, shaped just like the real thing, only considerably larger than most, and with the metal "areolas" just larger than the holes that currently showed her nipples - about an inch and a half across. They were attached with wire through her new piercing holes and the resulting stretch of the nipple was what kept the cone in place. Now, she could only be actually touched in her mouth, or both lower holes. Everything else was covered. Her ponytail was now down to her waist.

It took some doing, but I finally found some all-metal zippers. Her two eye holes and her mouth slit could now be zipped shut. Now, whenever she was closed up, the only proof that there was female skin underneath the silver looking statue was through the metal slit at her crack, and to see that she had to have her legs spread, and either had to be laying down or the viewer had to be stooped below her looking up. Also, the only sense she had left that was usable at that time was hearing, and I had no reason to interfere with that, since I didn't care what she heard and actually wanted her to hear things. Like detailed descriptions of how worthless she was.

I had also pierced her tongue and started training her on a ball gag. Only in her case, the elastic band wasn't needed to keep it snug. Once her tongue was inserted and pinned, and the ball automatically pulled back into her mouth, the zipper was closed and the ball was effectively captured. Of course, in her case the gag did nothing for preventing speech that she couldn't make anyway, but it was just another degradation to have her mouth stuffed all day long. Of course, anytime I had a girl in a long term gag, I had to make sure that they began the ordeal fully hydrated, since the drooling would begin immediately and continue for the rest of the session. For the other girls, it would usually trail down between their tits and belly and finally drip off their cunts on the floor. In the case of Metalica, it would be inside of her metal skin and would trail all the way down her body and finally leak out at her feet.

She also got two beautiful dangling earrings. Big solid silver rings, two inches in diameter, on silver jewelry chains, attached to the metal costume where her earlobes would be - if they could have been seen. She was now even more unbelievable. I regretted that she couldn't be displayed to the world. Or could she?

Our "club" met every Friday night, each time at a different member's house. Usually there were at least four of us, sometimes all six. We almost never brought along our own sub, or subs, since being stopped by the police for anything could be embarrassing. And in the case of an unwilling sub, disastrous. The interesting part was that none of us knew the status of our fellows' girls. Were they like Mary - willing subs to be used as we wanted? Or were one or more actually unwilling girls, like Metalica? We didn't know and didn't ask.

Our usual night was for poker. The table stakes were minor, considering that everybody there was a millionaire. But with winning the pot came the right to use the host's girl or girls. After each pot, the winner could take his prize or hold it till later.

The poker was very casual. During the night between hands, and while waiting for the last winner to finish, we would also talk shop, girls, or politics. If some major news story was happening, we would watch it on TV. On warm nights we might swim in the pool, if the host had one. Sometimes I brought a new item that would be displayed by using the host's sub.

* * *

I needed to do something about Mary. Having two dungeons was a pain, but if I took her into the real one, then it was for keeps. I decided to let her decide. She was not only a hard-core sub, she actually was craving to be really enslaved.

I had her strapped on her back, spread out taut and was admiring again all of her art. Well, I was also fingering the demon whose mouth was her slit. A very wet and drooling mouth, I might add.

On occasion, just to make sure that she was paying attention, I would pop the inside of a thigh with a small lash and she would jump like she had been electrocuted. I had long since learned that this was the most painful area on a woman for the whip. I pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed.

"I have a proposition for you, but wait till I finish to tell me what you think." That was a totally unnecessary command, considering the gag that was in place. She nodded. "I have a real dungeon somewhere, filled with real slaves. They are - were - all women who had committed an offense against me, one way or another. So they are real and unwilling. You, on the other hand, willingly want to be somebody's bondage cunt. This is your chance. Interested?"

She nodded, wide-eyed. She also tried to reply but it only came out as a "Hummmph."

I pointed my whip at her face for emphasis. "I want you to understand the real part. If you agree, it will be total slavery from now on. You will have no rights or will whatsoever." I paused for a second to let it sink in. "If I get tired of you and want to sell you to a whorehouse in South America, I will do it and you will go." It sounded good, but I had no idea if such unwilling bordellos even existed down there and how I would even go about making such a transaction. She looked too excited. I needed to bring home the reality of this. "If I decide to have a back alley doctor cut both of your arms off because I want you unable to play with your own cunt, that will happen and you can't stop it." Son of a bitch! Where the hell did that come from? But, I think it worked - both of her eyes got a little wider.

"I know you like the fucking and chains and whips, but think about the other aspects of your life. You will never go to the mall again - never see another movie in a theater - never again eat in a restaurant - no clothes, just naked skin till you grow old and saggy." No change in her aspect. "All you will see is four walls and some other girls and occasionally other men who will do whatever they want to you." I turned around and started to leave, then said, "Think about it in the next few days."

* * *

By now, several women had tried my equipment in my quarters. Having money, I had no trouble attracting girls, but most were unsatisfactory beyond the casual screwing. After so many years of real B&D, the idea of just playing at it didn't really turn me on anymore. So far, I hadn't found another who was into it like Mary, or who was just so much fun in the sack, like Cindy. But since I already had four on tap, it didn't really bother me. But...

One day, Jill Laughton came by. I hadn't seen her for a couple of years, at least - maybe more. She had put on a little weight and wanted her chastity belt let out. At least that was her given reason. I realized fairly quickly that there was more to her visit. That same night, she was spread, stretched, and lightly whipped in several of the devices in my enlarged second floor apartment. I realized that this was a woman who wanted to develop into a sub - maybe a good one. I was perfectly willing to put her through a training course in the next few months.

She became my current woman - when she left the next morning, she was wearing her belt again, but I kept the keys. All day long, she could think about the fact that nobody, including herself, was going to use her pussy without my permission. I wondered if she would develop into a Cindy, wanting tight bondage, or a Mary, needing massive punishment for pleasure. Hell, or maybe both.

Of course, anytime she was there, Mary was confined to the back room - and usually gagged.

Speaking of Mary, she had thought about what I had offered her - thought about it for about five seconds. Then for the next several weeks, she kept wanting to know when she was going to be really enslaved. In fact, her insistence got her whipped a few times to make her shut up. Of course, that was like punishing a young girl by sending her to the mall with a credit card.

One night, I got her drunk and then kept insisting that she drink more. When she finally passed out, I picked her up and hauled her downstairs. Not easily - she wasn't a petit girl. The entrance of this naked and inked woman definitely got some surprised stares from the other three inhabitants of the dungeon as I hooked a chain from a wall link to her collar.

"Meet your new roommate, girls."

* * *

A night came - one on which it was my turn to supply the meeting site. Four other men were there that night. We settled into a normal game of five card draw, no different than probably thousands of games going on all over the county this Friday night. Eventually, the pot was won - not by me on purpose - and I excused myself and left the room. Shortly, I came back into the lounge towing my stumbling metal thrall by a silver chain connected to her collar. If dropping jaws could make a noise, the sound level in the room would have been deafening. However, the "Holy Shits" and the "God Almighty Damns" filled in the silence quite well. I locked the end of her chain into a bolt on the wall over the casting couch, and said, "Ok Bill, your pot, your pussy. You can use either of the two lower holes - your choice."

Nobody moved. They just stared at the unbelievable apparition that had appeared. They knew of my secondary business - hell, all of their subs were wearing my bracelets and other gear - but this was totally unexpected. She was about the same size and shape as June and I supposed they might have assumed that it was her. As for Metalica, who knows what was going through her mind? This was the first time since her capture, more than two years ago, that she had been in the presence of anybody besides me and my other subs. Her eye and mouth zippers were closed at the moment, but she could definitely hear the other men in the room. She had gone from a powerful and career-climbing woman to a metal clad object to be screwed on demand. I wondered if it had dawned on her that she was not only going to be fucked by a strange man, but it would be with other men watching. Of course, with no vocal cords, to my friends she would be just another willing sub in an unbelievable costume. And her lack of speech or other sounds would be explained if anyone unzipped her mouth slit. He would see a ball gag that was obviously preventing her from speaking.

Bill - the winner - finally slowly rose from his chair and walked over to the casting couch. As per our custom, once we got to whichever house we were meeting in for the night, we only wore shorts, so it was just the work of seconds for him to shuck them off and kick them away. He was at attention and rock hard as he pushed the silver girl back onto the couch and spread her legs. In seconds, his fairly large dong was inserted all the way up between the metal slit and into her soft female cunt. The poker game was forgotten for the moment. The sight was too erotic to be able to concentrate on mere cards and money. Tonight, everyone would take their turn before the next hand.

I went last, just for politeness to guests. Then, making sure that everyone could hear, spoke to my girl. "Let us know if you are getting sore, sweetie." Of course nothing came out of her hidden mouth. She had absolutely no way to communicate her status with anyone. She couldn't even hold a pencil to write a message. I stood up and said, "My bitch is ok. She'll grunt at us if she starts to hurt."

I filled my glass and sat back and listened to the compliments, answering questions - not always truthfully - and offering observations. Life was good - I was very wealthy, had a career that I loved, all the pussy I wanted, and now - my long sought revenge was complete. It would become even more complete before the night was over. I expected that my metal girl would have a painful pussy and asshole by the time the night was over. Well, if nothing else, she should well realize by now that what goes around, comes around.

The End

Copyright© 2011 by Morlock. All rights reserved.