Trapped And Trained Sissy Ch. 14 free porn video

Trapped and Trained Ch. 14
It had been thirteen days since my last outing. Thirteen days since I was forced to sit in the middle of a bukkake of dozens and dozens of men, feeling the warmth of their sticky semen drizzling down my cheeks and chin, dripping steadily onto my exposed, and now pierced, breasts before being made to clean it all off, swallowing every last drop. Thirteen days of being trapped in this prison of an apartment, a place I used to call home but now call hell. Thirteen days...

I wish I could say that I'd been left alone, but I was kept on a meticulous schedule. Through the clitty ring that I was still trapped inside as well as the intercom system that could blare obnoxious and near deafening noises, I was being manipulated around the clock. My biological clock was starting to adapt as well, sadly. I felt like a dog being trained. They say that, to truly create a new habit, to perform the same task for seven straight days - try thirteen and everything becomes second nature, even the things I was being made to do. It was all becoming automatic and I hated it.

Every morning at 6 a.m. sharp I was to roll out of bed. I would change out of my lingerie and step into one of my skimpy bikinis, apply tanning lotion all over my body, then lie down in the tanning bed for 15 minutes. Once my time was up, I would step out and return to my room, where I would remove the bikini and take a shower. When the shower was over I would get out, blow dry my hair, straighten it and then put on my lotion and makeup for the day.

Next I would walk to the fetish room and open up my morning message - I wasn't sure if it was from my Master or Vicki or just someone with a very perverted mind, but it was always there waiting for me. Inside of this email was no text, just images of the clothes and jewelry that I was to find in my various closets to wear for the day. It was always something skimpy and revealing... periodically there would be no top pictured, so I would be required to walk around topless, feeling my heavy breasts dangling from my chest, looking down to see the little silver balls peeking out from both sides of my nipples. On those days I actually found myself yearning for a bra to wear before I would come around and tell myself to be thankful that I wasn't wearing more feminine attire. I would try to imagine myself wearing my gym shorts and no shirt, walking around as a normal guy on a normal day... and it could be convincing until I would feel the string of my thong invading the crevice between my ass cheeks, or I would have to pull up my stockings on the days I wasn't made to wear a garter belt.

Once I was showered, made up and dressed, I was required to report to the living room. I go to the kitchen and retrieve my morning protein shake from the fridge in the kitchen. On the kitchen counter would be my assortment of pills for the day, which I was required to swallow and then show my mouth to the camera, lifting my tongue and pulling my cheeks open as it zoomed in to ensure that I had swallowed them. I tried fooling this system on the first day only to receive an immobilizing jolt through my clitty ring for five minutes... that was enough of a warning not to try it again. Such precautions were always taken that it seemed I was always a step or three behind my captors. I hated being in this situation and hated even more that it felt like I was being outsmarted by them at every turn.

After taking my pills and drinking my shake, it's typically around 8 a.m. For the next 3 hours, or for however long the videos are played, I'm to sit on the couch and 'research' whatever content is placed on the TV. For all ten days the first video has been an instructional one on how to perform the perfect striptease and pole dance. I must have had an entire notepad filled with notes on the various moves and tips provided in that video - it was ingrained in my head to the point where I could practically recite the entire thing. After that video ended I would sit through 2 or 3 more, typically porn videos where I was to always place myself in the role of the female (or the bottom male for gay videos) and to take copious notes on how that person performed. What he or she did to enhance the sexual pleasure of the one that he or she was fucking/sucking/seducing. By the time the videos were done my hands were always cramped from all of the writing - if I ever paused for what felt like more than two minutes I would receive a warning shock through my clitty ring, always answered by furious note taking on my part.

Once the videos were over I was to go to the room with the tanning bed. Inside there had been a stripper pole installed, as well as a life-like mannequin with an 8" fully erect strap-on locked to his pelvis, sitting upright in a chair. The first 45 minutes I was in this room I would have to perform various stretches, getting loose and limber. I'd always considered myself a fairly flexible person, but ever since starting this stretching routine I more flexible than I'd ever imagined possible. I couldn't quite fit my feet behind my head, but it sure felt like it was coming soon... a thought that scared me. I was able to bend all the way over at the waist and place my head between my legs, looking up to see my fake pussy and asshole (which it has now become second nature to refer to as my pussy).

After the stretching was done and my muscles had been sufficiently warmed up, the flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall would turn on, signaling that it was time to start my performance. For the next hour I would mimic everything done on the TV. The first half hour was done on the stripper pole. I'd swing around on it, hold myself upside down, slide the pole up and down between my breasts, between my ass cheeks. I'd lean back on my hands, straddling the pole, sliding it up and down between my thick fake pussy lips, all the while tossing my hair around to the beat of the music pounding inside of the room. It was an incredible workout, probably harder than anything I'd done before.

Finally that music would stop and a different video would come on the screen. I always hated this part the most. I'd swallow deep and step off of the mini platform that the pole was up on, moving over towards the realistic looking mannequin with the huge cock bulging out from underneath the jeans he was wearing. Again I'd mimic the video, gyrating my hips up against his cock, pressing my breasts against his face, straddling his legs as I moved up and down, acting as if he were fucking me. Then the worst part of the performance would pick up. I'd unzip his pants and pull out the monster dildo, then go through the seduction moves again, this time feeling the cock sliding up and down my ass crack, occasionally getting caught and almost sliding inside of me before I turned around and worked my way from pressing my breasts against his face on down until I was sliding the dildo in between my breasts, breathing warmly on it as it made its way up near my mouth. I was never made to actually take it in my mouth or pussy, but what I was being made to do was almost more embarrassing as I moaned and ground my ass into the crotch of this mannequin, feeling the dildo press against me, trapped between my body and the rubbery plastic of the mannequin. All the while I could see the red dot emanating from the camera in the corner of the room, a reminder that people all over the world could be watching and that the video was being recorded, now forever existing on a hard drive somewhere.

Once all of my "performing" was done with, the time was usually around 1 p.m. From then until around 4 p.m. I had to go into the fetish room and chat with my "fans" on my site, consisting also of performing for them anytime someone paid a fee, allowing them to send me a request. There was a video chat going on, but they couldn't hear me so all of my responses had to be typed. I found out that this was because they wanted to be able to monitor what I sent. This was found out the hard way when one man requested that I spend the rest of the chat with an 8" vibrator in my pussy that could be controlled by the users in the chat room. I sent a message telling him to go fuck himself and calling him a pervert, but what instead showed up on my screen was a long message about how I had so hoped that someone would allow me to use that plug, that it was my favorite and that I hoped they would really test my limits with the controls. I stared at the message dumbfounded until a private message appeared on my screen in red font, warning me to behave appropriately and to hurry up with accommodating the plug request. The rest of that chat was hell as I spent the next hour with a plug in my pussy that was constantly fluctuating its speed, never allowing me to grow accustomed to its presence inside of me. The users constantly laughed and mocked me as they watched my expression changing with the pace of the vibrations... yet I still had to tell them about how 'good' it felt and how much I 'loved every second of it'. Fucking pricks.

After my chat session on my site was done around 4 in the evening, it was time for another protein shake and another dose of my pills. I'd choke all of that down and then be back on the couch watching more videos, taking more notes, taking part in the participation points of the tutorial videos or re-enacting particular scenes with my pink dildo. I'd be forced into that for a solid two hours, my body completely spent by the end of it around 6 p.m.

Once the videos clicked off for that session, it was back to the tanning bed. I'd gladly kick off the outfit I'd been made to wear, but then begrudgingly slide up another pathetic excuse for a bikini, putting the straps perfectly in line with my now extremely defined tan lines. Most of my body was a perfect bronze tan, but underneath those lines was now a contrasting white that stuck out from all angles, the lines of the thong dipping down between my cheeks from high up on my hips. My breasts were a beautiful tan color aside from the small triangles just over my nipples and my aureoles, small spaghetti straps jumping up over my neck and behind my back. More tanning lotion spread all over my body and fifteen more minutes in the tanning bed.

After tanning I always felt disgusting, but rather than get to take a shower I had to stay in that room and go through an extended stretching routine that lasted over an hour. It was similar to the routine before I had to perform on the pole, but with much longer counts and much further reaches. As it went on I could feel the elasticity in my muscles increasing and hated to say that they felt great once it was completed. Once I was free from this place I thought I might actually continue with these stretching routines. Once I was free...

Around 8 p.m. it was time for a long, hot bubble bath to ease my aching muscles. Like everything else, however, I wasn't allowed to just sit back and enjoy it. At the bottom of the tub was a small pink dildo which I had to slide my fake pussy over, feeling it press up against my imprisoned cock underneath it. The whirlpool of the tub would kick on, forcing the dildo to vibrate uncontrollably and massage my cock through the fleshy interior of my fake pussy. It drove me wild and made it impossible to concentrate, but it was also increasingly frustrated as the ring around the base of my cock made it impossible for me to orgasm - it just took me to the edge and kept me dangling there for the duration of the bath.

As I stepped out of the tub and put lotion all over my body once again, it was back to the fetish room to check for my nightly email. Inside that email again would be pictures of what I was required to wear to bed - usually some kind of elegant lingerie. I'd go through my closets and drawers trying to find the matching items, angrily slide them on and then slip into bed, feeling the silk sheets tickling my soft, silky smooth legs as I moved, sending shivers up my body. If I was lucky I'd immediately fall asleep - but most night I laid there in bed, completely awake, afraid to close my eyes and to see the images burned into my mind of all of the cocks I'd sucked and ridden. Most nights ended with me curled up in a ball in the bed, my face buried in the pillow, rocking myself to sleep before 6 a.m. came the next morning and it started all over again.

6 a.m. on the 14th day came, marking two weeks since I'd been made to do anything with a real cock. I suppose that was good news, though it was hard to accept that good news to me now was making it through two weeks without having a throbbing cock pulsating inside of me until it spewed its load in me or on me. How much times had changed. How much I missed my old life.

No time to think back now. I rolled out of bed and slipped off the pink baby doll I'd worn to bed last night, followed by the crotchless black thong. In its place I slid up a black wicked weasel thong bikini, looking at the tiniest patch of material straining to cover my fake pussy lips before putting the strings and cups in line with my tan lines. I straightened up and spread the slippery tanning lotion all over my body and climbed into the tanning bed for my morning session. Fifteen minutes later I could have sworn I felt the tan lines burning even brighter in contrast to my body as I walked into my bedroom and slipped off the bikini, hopping into the shower to wash off the greasy feeling of the tanning lotion.

Climbing out of the shower I went through my normal routine of drying and straightening my hair. It took me a while to get used to using a hair straightener, but after watching a handy tutorial I was now becoming quite the pro at it, hating the new skill I had picked up as I looked in the mirror at my blond streaks of hair now flowing beautifully over my shoulders and resting over my breasts, the silver balls of my nipple piercings peeking out from the small gaps between the blond and black hairs that my now permanent hairdo was styled with as I fixed a few strays.

I was getting used to my breasts, as much as it surprised me to be saying that - I really never knew how different it could be to have these heavy pieces of flesh hanging from your chest. They got in my way for the first week or so as I would knock items over or hit them on my keyboard as I leaned in on the computer, but now I was growing accustomed to having them there and the pressure on my back that came with them. The stretching and working out seemed to help strengthen my muscles, making carrying them around a bit easier, but I also learned that corsets and bras offered wonderful support to them... so even though I hated wearing those items, I seemed to be much more comfortable when I had them on with my D cup breasts fully supported.

I caught myself from the mesmerizing moment I was in the midst of while staring at my breasts and brought myself back to reality. I sat down at my vanity and began picking through the various makeup items, applying a generous amount of everything just as I had learned. I put on a hot pink shade of lipstick along with the other staples of my routine... I didn't have to go as heavy on the foundation any longer with how my tan was coming along as well as how the pills I was taking were softening up my skin. I could go more with my "natural" skin tone now, but I still put on plenty of blush, mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow. This was probably the most humiliating part of getting ready as it was, essentially, up to me on how I looked in the end, which was always like a prostitute on the busiest night of the year. But I knew that if I didn't do a good enough job that I would be required to do it all over again, so I figured I would just try to go through the humiliation once and then be done with it.

Looking at myself in the mirror I was satisfied with my whore-ish look. Well, I wouldn't say I was 'satisfied' per se, but I knew it would suffice well enough for me to move on to the next step. I stood and walked into the fetish room, sitting down at the computer to see my morning message waiting for me, as always. As I popped open the message and looked through the images, something just seemed different as the outfit was more revealing and intricate than usual, but I thought nothing of it and went on my quest to match everything up.

First was a dress that no woman in her right mind would ever wear, I didn't care who it was. It was labeled as a 'cage dress' and was basically just strips of leather with silver studs in it. It left practically nothing to the imagination as strips of leather were formed to leave large squares open all around the dress. There were no bra cups, so my chest would be completely exposed and unsupported as a thin piece of leather would simply rest on the top of them, meeting a silver o-ring in between them. A loop came up from that o-ring that would go around my neck and hold the dress up. Down from the o-ring a long vertical strip of leather went down to the bottom of the "dress". There were other vertical strips that ran down as well, I counted seven in all, spaced out evenly throughout the dress. There then were six horizontal leather studded strips that ran around the dress. None of the strips could have been more than half an inch wide, so you can imagine that the squares that were left by this pattern were quite large and extremely revealing.

After finding this dress I saw that I was to also wear a black thong underneath. Well, at least part of me would be covered by solid clothing I thought, even though the crotch of the thong would do little more than hug the outside of my fake pussy lips from the look of the photo. My thoughts were confirmed when i found it - the material seemed sheer as I held it up to the light, seeing my fingers behind the thin black cloth. Wonderful.

Once I had those items I was on to find the black leggings that were pictured next. The front and back were a fence-net looking material while the sides sported smaller fishnet openings from my mid thigh down to my ankle. I shuttered as I imagined how it would feel to slide the material up my silky smooth legs before moving on to find the 5" open toed black heels I was to wear to complete my wardrobe. I looked down at my toes, remembering how I was told by one of the fans on my site to paint my fingernails and toenails a bright pink shade and cursing whoever that person was.

I brought all of the items back to the bedroom and began the process of putting everything on. The final result made me feel ridiculous, but looking in the mirror all I saw staring back at me was one of the hottest pieces of ass I'd ever seen. This outfit screamed sex appeal and, as I suspected, left very little to the imagination. My massive breasts perkily hung free with the strips of leather all around, providing no purpose but to drive men and women alike wild with out kinky it appeared. The tan lines of my breasts seemed to contrast even more now that the black leather was surrounding them. I turned around and saw the black string of my thong disappearing between my ass cheeks, the square openings the leather strips formed doing nothing to hide every last detail. I looked closer to see my fake pussy lips bulging against the tight sheer cloth trying to contain them. The leggings definitely added a sexual effect to the outfit with my bronze legs peeking through the various holes in them down to my heels with my pink toes standing out through the opening. I hated to admit it, but fuck I looked hot.

It was becoming harder to snap myself out of those trances, but once I did I cursed myself for letting my mind wander once again and forced myself to think about my poor cock caged up, unable to get out. I gulped and my face was on fire as I angrily walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. For a moment I thought about rebelling, about stripping the clothes off and just allowing them to send enough electricity through me to just end everything... but I was still hanging on to the belief that better days were ahead. Days where I would be free, where I could get all of this work reversed and probably go through some kind of drastic psychotherapy to forget that it had all happened. Those thoughts may seem foolish, but they were getting me through each day as I continuously went through the various possibilities of escaping in my head, wishing that some brilliant idea would come to me and that I could just vanish from this life.
I made it to the kitchen, my spirit now a bit upbeat as I had convinced myself, albeit temporarily, that everything was going to be okay, that I just had to weather this storm to get to a better life. I popped open the fridge and took out my protein shake for today. After a few swallows I picked up my concoction of pills that were on the counter and swallowed them down without a second thought. It was becoming difficult to ignore the effects of whatever I was taking on a daily basis. My breasts were definitely becoming a bit fuller as well as much, much more sensitive. It seemed like my facial features were filling out a bit, creating a more feminine appearance that was accentuated by the makeup I was applying. And I swore it felt like my hips, thighs and butt were filling out as I routinely examined in the mirror. I always had a small, tight ass but, while it was still very tight and well rounded, it just seemed... thicker. When I would be dancing on the pole or performing a lap dance I could certainly feel that it had some more jiggle to it as I moved. I hadn't really thought of the affect these pills would have and I was brought out of my daze by a knock at the front door.

Who the hell could that be? There was certainly no way I could answer the door like this! The peephole had been removed from the door so looking out wasn't an option. As I walked to the door I heard the electronic lock click open... so whoever was out there, I was apparently supposed to see them. I cracked the door open a few inches and peered out to see a man in a black trench coat. As soon as he saw the door opening he pushed it all the way open. Another side effect of the pills was that I swore it felt like I was getting weaker. At least I convinced myself it was the pills...

It was an older man with graying hair and an equally graying mustache. He looked very well off from his designer trench coat and the expensive looking suit I could see he was wearing underneath. He stared at me as I attempted to cover myself with my hands, but there was so much exposed that it wasn't effective at all. In a deep, confident voice he spoke.

"I'm here to take you to the party pre-staging area for tonight, per Miss Vicki's instructions. You'll come with me now and you won't say a word unless asked a direct question. Follow me."

Now I had to walk outside like this? And what did he mean a party pre-staging area? What was that? I had so many questions running through my mind as I tried walking close to him to shield myself from view. We made our way out of my building and into the parking lot where I saw his black Mercedes coupe with tinted out windows. Tinted windows... thank God.

I was instructed to ride in the back seat as we drove for what must have been 30 minutes. We drove out of the city and into a suburb to the south... this was a place where a lot of the higher society of the area lived. Up to a gated entrance where a security guard waved the car on through I saw that we were now surrounded by high price mansions on both sides of the rode. Finally we reached the back of the division where there was another gated entrance that buzzed the car through as we approached. We drove up a long, winding driveway before disappearing underneath the house where there was an underground garage. The car pulled into one of the stalls and I watched as two well built men, one white and one black, both covered in tattoos, opened up my door, blindfolded me and then rushed me out of the garage and through a door into the basement of the house.

I thought I heard voices as I walked through the basement, hearing the sound of my heels clicking against what must have been a cement floor. Finally I was told to turn and walked through another door when my blindfold was taken off and the men exited behind me, locking me inside. I was essentially locked inside of a room not much larger than a prison cell. There was a small TV in the room with a DVD player - on the DVD player was a sticky note simply saying "PLAY ME". I trembled as I reached out and hit the play button.

To my surprise, Miss Vicki appeared on the TV. I listened as her voice filled the room.

"Candi - you've had two weeks to prepare yourself for tonight, so I hope you're ready. Tonight you take a giant step in your training process as you will be placed with other slaves at various stages of training. You have been brought here so that I can better gauge your progress. Granted, all of these other slaves are much, much more developed than you are and you are by far at the earliest stage of training, but that doesn't mean that you don't have your uses."

Other slaves? I was going to be with other people that were being forced through the same kind of hell that I've been put through? Maybe this won't be so bad, I thought... Maybe we can somehow band together and find a way out of here. Maybe they have some advice for me in how to get through this. My thoughts were interrupted as Miss Vicki continued.

"This mansion that you are currently in is the home of one of the most famous Masters in the country, so you should feel privileged to even be here. He only throws a handful of parties every year and to simply be invited is quite the honor, so be sure to be on your best behavior. Now, this party is essentially a fetish party. Your role will depend on your performance during the prestaging tryouts. At each of these parties there is a defined hierarchy, from the top of the chain, which is Master Vic, on down to the lowest of the slaves. The hierarchy is respected at all times during the party... if you ever receive an order from someone higher than you, as signified by the color of the collar on their neck, then you are to obey that order without question. The only time that order may be disobeyed is if it would be in conflict with an order from someone with more authority. The slaves also abide by this hierarchy - the lowest of the slaves must take orders not only from the dominants, but from the slaves as well. They are not allowed to pass on any of their tasks to you... I'm sorry, I mean to the lowest of the slaves, I suppose that was a bit presumptuous to assume that it will be you... but as I was saying, they may not pass their tasks off to the low slave, but they are allowed and even encouraged to order those lower than them around."

What the fuck was this? A hierarchy at a fetish party? So this was essentially just a big orgy and I was going to have to do whatever they wanted? Fuck that - if I was going to be put through this, then I was going to do everything I could to be the top of the slaves so that I could at least avoid some humiliation tonight. Miss Vicki went on.

"Now, the tryouts will go in three parts. There will be an endurance competition, followed by a pleasure competition, and lastly a tolerance competition. The grades from all three tryouts will be compiled at the end and the hierarchy will be established from there. The poor slave that receives the pink collar with the black X on the front and back will be marked as the low slave and will be in for one hell of a long night, so I strongly suggest that you step it up during these tryouts and surprise me in not being tonight's bitch. As I said, you are by far the least experienced, and I fully expect you to be the low slave tonight... actually, I'm really looking forward to watching these other slaves boss you around. They are typically the most creative and I usually come away from these parties with a wealth of new knowledge. But, all the same, best of luck sweetie!"

Almost on cue the door opened and the two men who led me to the room again blindfolded me and led me out. Again I heard the clickity clack of my heels as I walked through the basement and felt myself walking through a large door. The clicking of my heels stopped as I was now on carpet. I was led to some wooden stairs and up on what must have been a wooden stage as I now heard my heels colliding with wooden planks as I walked. I was stood up on some kind of a platform, where I was quickly bent over and felt my wrists and neck locked into something that felt like stocks. I then felt the bottom of my dress being lifted and my thong pulled down just below my ass cheeks as my legs were pushed shoulder width apart and locked into place by cuffs that must have been attached to the platform.

Suddenly light rushed to my eyes as the blindfold was removed and, as I had thought, I was now locked in some stockades, kept bent over at the waist with no way to stand up or reach behind me. As I looked around the room, I saw what was a circle of slaves in the exact same situation... some men, some women... some most likely similar to myself where they were forced to be both, but it was hard to tell. I could see some kind of a contraption behind each of the slaves across from me and figured that there was also one behind me. It appeared to be some kind of a fucking machine with a dildo at the end of a steel rod, with a red light at the top of the base of the machine that was off. I heard someone walking to the middle of the circle which turned out to be the man that had picked me up... Master Vic, apparently.

"Here is your first of three phases of your tryout, slaves. As you can see, your movements have been restricted. In a short time, the machines behind you will come to life, attempting to force their way inside of you. Your task is simple - keep your sphincters tight for as long as you possibly can. Once a machine has fully entered you, the red light will flick on and you will be eliminated from this competition. Good luck."

As he walked off I saw two men walking around the circle, flicking on the machines as they walked. One disappeared behind me and I heard the machine behind me come to life, followed by a gentle pressure against my pussy. The dildos must have been dipped in lube as they felt cold and greasy, making it easier for them to slide inside their targets. I looked around the room and noticed that all of the other slaves seemed perfectly calm and focused on their task at hand, staring down at the floor, deep in concentration as I was glancing all around the room, noticing a timer in each corner of it, which now had my complete attention.

At five minutes I felt the pressure behind me increase, staying as a constant push against me. I gritted my teeth and tried to focus, but continuously found myself looking to the clock. After another five minutes the pressure again increased and the dildo began to softly rock forward and backward, creating more of a challenge to stop it from entering me.

Fifteen minutes down and it began pushing harder and further. I was trying to concentrate but couldn't help myself from trying to make eye contact with one of the other slaves, to see that someone else was experiencing the pain and agony that I had been put through, but they all were motionless, like obedient statues to the task at hand. My slip in concentration cost me as I relaxed for just a moment, long enough to feel the head of the dildo slip inside of me. Once there I felt the machine freeze, not penetrating further, yet not releasing out of me no matter how hard I pushed. It was just stuck, the head barely sitting inside of me.

Twenty minutes and I felt the dildo spring to life again, catching me off guard as it pushed deeper inside of me. It had to be halfway inside of me now as it began to thrust back and forth again, never going so far back as to be removed from me. I was squeezing as hard as I could to stop its penetration, but each time I felt it slide in halfway before I could slow its movement and then slide back until the head was just at my opening before rhythmically coming back into me. I groaned as I looked around, seeing that none of the dildos of the machines across from me had even entered any of the other slaves.

At twenty five minutes I couldn't squeeze any longer and completely relaxed, groaning as I felt all 9 inches of the cock slide inside of me. I heard a bell ring, gaining the attention of a few of the slaves who smirked for a moment and then went back to their concentration. I had figured that this would be the end, that I would be taken off of the platform and led back to my room, but to my horror the machine settled into a constant rhythm of fucking me as I moaned and pleaded for it to stop.

After ten more minutes of misery I heard another bell - the second slave had been fully penetrated to my left. I saw the red light come on and heard a familiar groan as he or she must have been experiencing the punishment fucking that came along with the disappointment of losing. To my surprise and pleasure my machine kicked off and I was removed from the stocks, reblindfolded and led back to my room and left there waiting.

After what must have been an hour and a half, the two tattooed men came back to my room and went through the process of blindfolding me and leading me back to the room, and again back up on the stage. This time I was brought to the same platform but, instead of being placed in stocks, I was pushed down on my knees. I felt my legs being strapped to the platform, then my hands roughly pulled back and locked to each of my ankles, once again locking me into place as the blindfold was removed.

There was again a circle of slaves on the platform, all locked on our knees on the platforms, but it only seemed to be about half as many as the time before. The stocks had been removed and wheeled away. Master Vic walked to the middle of the smaller circle and began to speak.

"You ten are here now because you were the first half eliminated from the prior competition. The ten that lasted longer than you have been slotted in their positions for tonight's even with the bottom ten left to be determined. Five more of you will be slotted after this next competition while the remaining five will move on to the third competition, where the final five positions will be determined. Now, as for the competition you are about to take part in - it also serves as a reward for the ten 'winners' from the endurance segment. They will file out in front of you in a moment and choose a position in front of you. When the buzzer sounds, it will be your job to bring that slave to orgasm, be they male or female, using only your mouth. After you achieve an orgasm from your partner, a bell will sound and your task will be completed. The five that complete this objective the fastest will be slotted in the 11-15 positions for tonight while the slowest will move on to compete for the positioning amongst the bottom rungs."

With that he walked off, immediately followed by the ten 'winning' slaves from the previous competition being led in blindfolded. The assistants led them one by one to the platforms, facing the kneeling slaves, myself included. I watched as a slave dressed as a french maid, though obviously a man given the erection sticking out from underneath 'her' skirt, was led up onto the platform I was currently strapped to. I cursed under my breath as I had hoped to be paired up with a female to at least get to eat a pussy rather than have to choke down a dick, but it wasn't to be. Once this maid had been positioned in front of me, the man who led 'her' up there promptly ripped off the maid skirt to show, to my surprise, a massively thick 7" cock. I hadn't expected something like that from a submissive - I was expecting something more along the lines of what I was packing, which was becoming an admittedly pathetic excuse for a dick, now down to around 2.5" fully erect. Again I blamed it on the pills.

A buzzer sounded and I saw the other nine slaves around me immediately go to work on the male or female in front of them. The woman next to me was already deepthroating the 5" cock in front of her like a hungry wolf, making him already start to moan in intense pleasure. As I took the head of the monster cock in front of me, I heard the slave to my left grunting loudly, followed by a long exhale, signaling that he was currently unloading a stream of cum into the female next to me, followed by the sound of a bell from her station. I was shocked at how fast that had happened, and already one slot was down as I heard others beginning to moan and groan in pleasure around the stage. I needed to get to work if I wanted to get out of being in that last competition and perhaps being the 'low slave' for whatever was going on tonight.

I thought back to the perfect blowjob video that I'd watched and been made to memorize, using all of the tips and tricks I'd picked up. They were beginning to work as I was slowly taking all 7 inches down my throat before letting it come out, swirling my tongue ball along the shaft as I did so, listening to the breathing pick up and feeling the blood rushing to 'her' cock. I picked up my pace and knew that I was closing in on getting a load of cum shot down my throat, not being able to believe that I was almost looking forward to the sensation of warm semen splashing against the back of my throat. The breathing was faster, the moans coming quickly as I heard two more bells ring off around the stage, leaving only two positions. I was now deep throating all seven inches at a feverish pace, my tongue constantly swirling in circles around the shaft and the head of this cock in front of me. I felt it begin to twitch as another bell rang off, leaving only one more position, but I knew that I had it in the bag as I knew just how close he was to giving me a load. I pulled the cock all the way out of my mouth and then in one motion took it all the way down, feeling my chin resting against 'her' balls as 'she' let out a scream in pleasure. Just as I felt the first drop of semen entering my mouth, I heard another bell. I pulled the cock out of my mouth, looking to my right to see the slave next to me smiling in relief as he had just finished off his partner. I was dumbfounded as I was brought out of my daze by a long, steady stream of cum splashing against my cheek and running all over my face. I had missed it by mere seconds.

The last four came within the next minute, all five of us losers knowing that we were going to have to move on to the third competition to see who would be the low bitch for tonight. We were all led off of the stage and brought back to our rooms, my arms locked behind me. However, this time, the man that brought me to my room did not leave - he instead came into the room with me and closed the door behind him. He pulled down a cable that was connected to a hook in the ceiling and latched it to the small chain between my cuffs. He then went to the door and flipped a switch, letting the cable begin to retract and pulling my arms up behind me, forcing me to bend over. He leaned down in front of me.

"This is the beginning of your tolerance segment. This is a timed event - your objective is to last as long as you possibly can. Once you have had enough, you will simply say 'Enough please' and your timer will stop, ending your session. Oh - and before we begin, you should know that I've been able to get my slave to quit first every time for the past three of these parties."

I had no idea what he was talking about - what was even going on? While I was wondering this I watched him walk behind me, raising up my dress. Was he going to fuck me? Is that what this is all about? Well, I thought, he can go ahead, because there's no way I was going to give in to this and be the servant to each and every person tonight. Being above four people would at least be something, and I was going to make that happen no matter what.

That's what I was thinking until he began. Out of nowhere I felt his hand come crashing down against my ass cheeks with a power I hadn't felt before. It was worse than any of the paddlings I'd been given by Miss Vicki or anyone else. Quickly he continued, leaving no time for me to regroup between the spankings. Tears began to well in my eyes as I pleaded with him to stop, but he was paying no attention to me.
Finally he did stop and walked around in front of me. My ass burned and I could feel it pulsating - another few slaps and I would surely have given up. He looked frantic and angry, apparently upset that I hadn't given in yet. I got a small bit of pleasure from that, but it quickly subsided as I felt both of his hands on my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples. He continued to pinch harder and harder as I bit my bottom lip, groaning in pain as I felt him start to pull downward on them as well. The pain was more intense than anything I'd ever felt. I lost control of myself, almost blacking out from the pain.

"ENOUGH PLEASE!!!"

With that he smirked, let go of my nipples, unhooked me from the cable in the ceiling and walked out the door. What did that mean? Had I lasted long enough? How long had the others gone? Was he going to do the same to them or had someone else administered their abuse? So many questions were going through my head, but the answers would not come as I was left there in that room for two hours. Left to wonder where I was, what I was going to be made to do, how long would it last, would I get to go home afterward...

Finally the door to my room opened and in walked, to my surprise, Miss Vicki. She was, as usual, breathtaking in her appearance. She was wearing a shiny black vinyl minidress. It was skin tight as I saw it hugging the curves of her hips. It had a zip up front that she had unzipped all the way down to just above her pussy, allowing people to see the cleavage of her ample breasts underneath. On her arms were long vinyl gloves that went well past her elbows, giving off a very intimidating look. She had on thigh high vinyl boots with a 4" heels with the tips of fishnet stockings peeking out over the tops. If you looked up a sexy dominatrix on the Internet, this is what you would find.

I looked at her neck and saw that she had on a black collar, remembering back to when she said the color of your collar denotes your rank in the hierarchy. I also remembered her saying that the pink collar with the black X on it would signify the low slave of the party... the place where I absolutely did not want to be. I looked at her hands and saw that she was holding a pink collar in them. She appeared almost happy as she approached me and placed the collar around my neck - and I was so relieved to see that it hadn't been the one with the black X on it. I was about to ask her who had received that collar when she turned me around to face the mirror in the room. My jaw dropped and my lip began to tremble.

I had seen the back of the collar, which was purely pink. When she turned me to face the mirror, I stared at my reflection, looking just under my chin to see a black X centered on my collar, right in the middle. Miss Vicki leaned in close to me as she stood behind me - I smelled the mixture of her perfume and vinyl and felt her hands on my shoulders.

"You see, sweetie? I told you that you'd be wearing this collar tonight - it looks so divine on you, like it just belongs there. And I simply cannot wait to watch you tonight. From what I've heard from the dominants watching the videos from upstairs, you will be attracting quite the crowd - and I was watching the other slaves closely and feel confident in saying that you have quite a few fans there as well. Yes, I think you will be a busy little bitch tonight! Now, off we go - time for your big introduction! Oh - silly me, I almost forgot my present for you..."

She snapped her fingers and in came one of her assistants that I hadn't seen before. He was a lean, fit man wearing black leather pants with a staff shirt from Miss Vicki's toy store. In his hands he carried a black shoe box and delivered it to Miss Vicki as she again spoke.

"Now be a good little bitch and sit down on that chair, eyes forward, no peeking!"

I did as I was told and stared straight ahead at the wall, my mind racing with all of the possibilities of what was about to happen tonight. I was searching for a way out, any way out as I felt Miss Vicki removing the heels I had been wearing and slipping something else on my feet. My 'present' from her. Suddenly I heard the familiar sound of padlocks locking into place, followed by Miss Vicki standing in front of me.

"Well now, that's more like it. Okay Candi - up on your feet, let's see how well you can walk in these delicious ballet heels."

My eyes widened when she spoke those words and I shot a glance down to my feet. Where my 5" open toed heels had been, there were now 7" spike ballet heels with tiny pink padlocks holding them on. Standing up I felt like I was stuck on my tiptoes at all times and was extremely off balance - a gentle breeze would easily have knocked me over. It just felt so unnatural - I was certainly no ballerina and it seemed like those were the only people that would be able to manage walking in these dreadful things. Miss Vicki was apparently not in the mood to wait as I saw her clip a pink leash to my collar and begin walking out the door, eventually pulling on me and making me stumble forward. It took everything I had not to fall. Thankfully she had stopped to enjoy the show of watching me attempt to walk, but as soon as my balance was regained she again set on her way down a hallway. I managed to get into a bit of a walking rhythm, finding that short steps with my feet directly in front of one another was the way to go - even though I hated the feeling of my ass swaying from side to side that this caused, it was better than falling on my face.

We made our way down the hallway to a set of stairs. Miss Vicki did not hesitate and just kept on walking as I stood paralyzed at the bottom of them, not sure how I was going to manage making it up the flight. My decision was removed when the slack on the leash was gone and I was pulled forward. I placed my hands on the stairs to regain my balance and then did my best to wobble up them, needing to put my hands down repeatedly to catch myself and no doubt giving Miss Vicki's assistant walking behind me a glorious view of the sheer thong straining to cover my crotch. This was validated by a soft, low "daaaaamn" that I heard the first time I bent over to catch myself, causing me to stiffen up quickly and hurry as much as I could up the rest of the stairs.

Miss Vicki thankfully stopped once we reached the top of the stairs, just outside of a closed set of double doors, allowing me to catch up and regain my composure for a moment. She turned to me with a stern look on her face.

"Remember, when we walk through those doors, everyone in that room is dominant to you. If you get an order from someone in a black collar, you obey it immediately as those are the dominants. Blue collars are guests, which are next in line - you obey all of their orders as long as they don't interfere with an order from a dominant. Red collars are the high slaves, the ones that lasted the longest in the first competition. Then there are the five slaves wearing the silver collars who managed to finish the second competition the fastest. There are four pink collars who all lasted much longer than you in the tolerance segment, and then there's you, the bitch to us all. Everyone has already gathered in the ballroom, but the party will be spread throughout the various rooms on this floor. When you are not completing an order, you will roam from room to room awaiting orders. Understood?"

I gulped down what was left of my pride and nodded that I understood what was expected of me, though I hated it. I hated even more not having a choice in the matter. Miss Vicki unclipped her pink leash from my collar and moved behind me. She nodded to the men manning each of the doors who answered by opening them, exposing me to whatever was waiting for me inside. I hesitated for a moment, just a slight moment, and was quickly met with a swift spanking to my ass through my dress from Miss Vicki, encouraging me to walk inside.

What I saw inside, and what I was made to do over the rest of that night, will haunt me for years to come... Yet, come the end of the night, there was hope...

*

Coming next: what happens at the party in great detail along with where the source of hope comes from...