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"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 description 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.

“AAAAAIIIIIGGGGHHHEEEEEEE!!!”

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.

SMACK!!!!

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?”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

“No? No what!?”

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

“So you were a disobedient slave?”

“YESSSSSSSSSS MISTRESSS!!!!”

“You tried to run away from your master?”

“YESSSSSSSS MISTRESSSS!!!”

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

“YESSSSSS MISTRESSSSSSS PLEEEEEEEAAAAAASSSE!!!”

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.

“P…p…please…”

“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.

“ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

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.

“Twist.”

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.

“ARRRRGGGGHHHHIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

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 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