Freestyle
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Free MarketChapter 4 free porn video
There were distant voices. Slowly, consciousness settled in.
Jane tried to think of the last thing that had happened to her. She was in a room with beige walls, soft carpets ... She was having some sort of procedure done ... Then she remembered. She was having a key made for her chastity belt. A personal key. An illegal key.
Something must have gone wrong. She wasn't in the office anymore. She was lying on a stiff bed of some kind, not like the one underneath the machine. The sounds were all harsh, as if bouncing off bare concrete. The voices were unfamiliar.
She opened her eyes.
She was lying down on a mattress covered in stained white cotton, the room around her a featureless slab of grey concrete. The wall to her left had a stainless steel toilet bowl protruding from it, and the one to her right had a heavy looking door set into it. The door had no handle. It wasn't anything like the one at work, however. Whereas the familiar door of her workplace had consisted of white, vertical, metal bars and an oversized lock, this one was a featureless metal rectangle. Clearly, it wasn't for show, to merely look like it was secure. It was purely functional, offering her nothing to grab onto.
It took a few seconds for her to realise where she was. She was in a prison. A real prison.
"Hey!" she said, much weaker than she'd intended to. Her throat was dry. She let out a cough and tried to sit upright. She was barefoot, wearing only a dull coloured jumpsuit, featureless save for a number embroided into it, covering her right breast, and a miniature zip at the front that led from her neck all the way down to her crotch.
No, she was wearing more than just the jumpsuit. She reached down tentatively to feel her crotch. She was still in the belt! In prison, she wouldn't even be able to pay to have it removed, she realised, not even for a few minutes. It was now essentially a permanent fixture of her body.
She walked up to the door, trying not to let herself get emotional. "Hey!" she repeated, louder this time.
She listened patiently to the voices coming through from the other side of the door. They changed tone, as if broken off from their monotonous conversation to talk about how the new prisoner must have woken up. Or maybe she was flattering herself that they even noticed her, or cared.
She jumped back, startled, as clanging sounds came from the door, the loud scraping of metal on metal as someone turned a heavy duty deadbolt lock. She kept a safe distance as the door swung open and two authoritative looking men with short haircuts and narrow gazes strode into the room. She peered past them to see more men standing outside, but none were looking into her cell.
"Prisoner number thirty-two thousand, seven hundred and sixty-eight," said one of the men to her, practically shouting, "you are hereby formally charged with attempting to create or otherwise obtain an unauthorised key in order to circumnavigate the fair commerce protection device installed on your person." He took in a deep breath. "As a substantial amount of footage was taken of you complying with this suggestion in your place of work, as well as attempting to undertake said act at an agreed unauthorised commercial venue, it has been deemed by the court that no trial is necessary. You are therefore hereby subject to mandatory integration into the class of unpaid servicing persons, known colloquially as slaves. A suitable owner has been found for you, and you are to be delivered to said owner immediately."
"What?" Jane tried to grasp the implication of what the man had just said. "There must be some mistake--"
The other man walked behind her. Before she could turn around to see what he was doing, he grabbed her arms and held them in place behind her back as the first man unzipped her jumpsuit, exposing a thin sliver of her naked skin. She struggled, but the man behind her just pulled her arms tighter together. Intense pain seared through her shoulders, and for a moment she thought she was going to pass out.
"What are you doing?" yelled Jane. "Get off of me!" She tried to kick reflexively, but the man in front of her just bent down and grabbed her ankles, his grip so tight that she imagined it might leave a mark.
"We've got a kicker here!" he said. Some of the men from outside immediately trickled into the room, as if she posed a threat to merely two of them. These ones were carryig things. Gleaming metal things. She could barely take it all in, but it looked like one was carrying heavy metal chains of some kind. She went wide-eyed at the sight of what one of the other men was carrying: it looked like a device modeled after a giant earwig, a long stick with two menacing looking prongs at the end.
Without any kind of introduction, the man with the device walked up to her and thrust it into her stomach. An electric shock overwhelmed her. Her whole body instantly went tense then limp as she screamed in pain. She would have fallen to the floor had her arms not been held up behind her. Instead, she just doubled over, letting her body hang limply in the man's arms. She suddenly realised she was crying, her breath short and jagged as tears streaked down her face.
"That should calm her down," sneered the man with the device. He spat on the floor.
Jane watched helplessly as the men got to work. They removed her jumpsuit - they'd doubltessly dressed her in it in the first place anyway, she realised - and laid her down. Not on the hard mattress, as if that would have been too considerate, but on the cold, hard, concrete floor. Its little bumps and imperfections, its thin layer of filth pressed against her naked flesh, made her wish for something she'd never thought possible. She wished she was back in her former employer's cell, crawling on her hands and knees on the smooth, tiled floor where she'd spent countless hours servicing the desires of ugly, perverted men.
Tamera
- 12.09.2021
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