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THE HITCH HIKER Part2 by Long Tall Mary
With the aid of some Ambien, combined with Xanax, I was able to enjoy a good nights sleep, which is not always the case. Darlene did not enjoy such comforts, as she spent the night handcuffed to the cell door bars, in a forced standing position.
Upon greeting her around 7:00AM, the look of despair about her could not have been more obvious. She immediately pleaded for release, prompting me to remind her the “don’t speak until spoken to” rule was still in effect. She was released from the standing position and provided with a can of liquid protein slurp, this being the standard diet for submissive detainees.
Having decided to postpone her training until after Lynn’s arrival, I left her unattended and returned upstairs. Before doing so I told her that later in the day she would be presented to prospective buyers, over a webcam. Of course this wasn’t true, but it is important that newly abducted subs be kept in a terrified frame of mind. It was also made clear that she would be expected to obey any remote commands I might issue.
Upstairs I busied myself with various tasks, periodically for amusement I would issue a command over the CCTV to Darlene, with instant feedback as to compliance. Considering that she had been punished for previous defiance, it was unlikely she would continue to do so. I wasn’t disappointed, amongst the commands were to kneel on the floor and bark, stand at attention, and to recite various self disparaging phrases. She had learned her lesson and performance was exemplary.
An otherwise harmonious and enjoyable morning came to an abrupt end, when Lynn arrived at 11:00, and quickly precipitated a hostile confrontation. Complaining that she was being under compensated for her services, she demanded an immediate raise, threatening to report me. I’m not quite sure who I would be reported to, and the threat wasn’t taken seriously.
Regardless no one speaks to me in such a contemptuous manner, let alone attempt extortion. Lynn would pay dearly for her indiscretion. Feigning that I was looking for my check book in my purse, I was able to surprise Lynn with a whiff of pepper spray. Years ago I probably could have subdued her without the spray, however age does take its toll.
As had been the case with Darlene, the fleeting disorientation was sufficient for me to put Lynn in handcuffs, knock her to the floor, bind her knees with a pre knotted rope, and fasten a neck collar in place. She had removed her coat and was clad in a black vinyl mini, a skimpy bikini, and heels. These were easily removed, and for good measure using scissors, I shredded her lingerie and panties, leaving her naked.
“You will learn respect the hard way”, I intoned, with her response being silence coupled with a venomous expression. Her physical coordination was taxed, as she was escorted to the basement, certainly not easy when your legs are bound together. In the basement holding cell, Darlene attracted by the commotion, was standing at the cell door watching intently.
“You will now have a cellmate and become quite attached to her”, I chortled. Lynn broke her silence and uttered some of the most choice epithets I have ever heard. I backhanded Lynn across the face, before ordering Darlene to lie face down on the cell floor, where again she was handcuffed in the rear.
Lynn quickly joined Darlene on the floor, and to attach them I took a plastic cable tie, extending it through the loops on their collars. It was then tightened, to the point where both their mouths were snugly together. To complete their arrangement I used three leather belts, one encircling their breasts, and the other two attaching their knees and ankles.
I then locked the door and stood outside, admiring my imaginative bondage arrangement. They were not gagged for the moment, despite my strong preference for gags, my plans called for them to do some passionate kissing. “I’ll be back in a little while, don’t go anywhere”, I chuckled before returning upstairs.
Now I had two captive subs to contend with, Lynn could probably be rehabilitated, but the prospect of keeping Darlene as a personal slave left much to be desired. Once again I telephoned Mother Jugs, seeking her assistance. She was non committal but agreed to visit later in the afternoon, to conduct her own assessment of my property.
Jugs is a fifty plus year old BBW lesbian, who heads a regional female biker group. I strongly suspect she is involved in prostitution and drug dealing, but you don’t ask questions about such matters. In the past she has “collected” slaves and confined them for training at the club headquarters. Eventually they either joined the gang, or were sold to unknown buyers.
It is known that Jugs is of Serbian descent, claiming to have served as a secret police interrogator, during the Milosevic era. This has never been verified, but I can attest to her sadistic drive. On the one occasion that I visited the clubhouse, she permitted me to observe a disciplinary session.
A female gang member, who had allegedly committed some infraction, was bound securely in the basement. Jugs, using a hot iron, branded the left buttock with a “J” inscription. The screams of the biker bitch were exhilarating to Jugs, despite being a visceral sadist myself, I found the torture modality rather unsettling.
Jugs indicated she would arrive at my home about 2:00PM, so this meant prepping my two subs. Both would remain attached to each other in the holding cell, until Jugs arrival, at which time they would be put on display. For almost an hour I required them to perform deep mouth kissing on one another, as I sat next to them in a chair. Nipple clamps were attached to both of them, several times I yanked on the connecting chain to prod them into performing more vigorously.
My display requirements are quite exacting, the sub must stand at attention, address the buyer as sir or maam, and submit to whatever advances I decide upon. These typically include groping or fingering, as a prospective buyer is entitled to inspect the merchandise. However I draw the line at that point, no other type of sex is permitted. A sub who fails to cooperate will be severely and instantly flogged.
It was agreed in advance that Lynn was not for sale, but she was not informed of this. Jugs arrived, accompanied by another female gang member, both wearing black leather jackets and biker caps. After some small talk, my guests were treated to one of my newest bondage videos, while I proceeded to the basement to prep my two captives.
Each was detached from the other and forced to stand on the floor, wrists manacled, and tethered to the ceiling with a chain attached to their collar rings. A set of clean maxi pads was stuffed into Darlene’s mouth for her to chomp on, Lynn was required to hold a riding crop with her teeth, knowing full well what would happen if it were dropped.
Both had been instructed to stand with their heads bowed down, they were not to deviate from this position without my permission. Lynn, evidently being a glutton for punishment, looked straight ahead as Jugs and I approached. Seldom do I make my anger visible in the presence of others, but Lynn’s behavior was embarrassing me, in the eyes of a visiting dominatrix. My immediate reaction was to yell at her, calling her a stupid yellow slut, as well as a few other choice expletives.
Six brutal strokes from the riding crop followed, the first five to her upper body, and the final one to her crotch. Lynn was unable to refrain from crying out in pain. As further punishment the spiked torture bra, previously used on Darlene, was adjusted for a tight fit upon Lynn, causing her to further cry out in pain.
At this point I decided that permitting Jugs to “acquire” her, at least temporarily, might not be such a bad idea and I voiced the offer out loud, “Why don’t you keep her for five days, free of charge, and let me know if you would like to purchase her ”. “I think I’ll take you up on that”, replied Jugs, who then commanded her assistant to prepare Lynn for transport.
Lynn immediately begged for forgiveness, such was not forthcoming, and Jugs silenced the bitch in a most humiliating way. Pulling down her jeans, Jugs then used a pair of scissors to remove her panties. “You’ll like the taste of these” she chuckled, before stuffing them into Lynn’s mouth, then taking a roll of duct tape, and covering the mouth with several wraps around the head. At least she was not blindfolded, which allowed me the pleasure of seeing her terrified facial expressions.
Jugs’ assistant moved quickly and adeptly to secure Lynn for transport, after removing her torture bra, zip ties were used to secure her wrists and ankles. Jugs, who stands about 5’5 and weighs nearly 200 pounds, hoisted the helpless petite Lynn over her shoulder, before carrying her to the pickup truck parked in the driveway. With no effort made to clothe the naked captive, Jugs quipped, “You’ll be riding in the love seat”.
The “love seat” was the toolbox in the truck bed, directly behind the cab. Lynn was stuffed inside, then covered with a blanket. Seeking to allay any fear of suffocation, Jugs assured her that a special ventilating system had been installed, before closing and locking the lid, I stood staring intently at Lynn, a big smile on my face, beside the tool box as it was locked.
Leaving her assistant to stand guard, Jugs and I returned indoors for a brief chat. She expressed no interest in Darlene, adding sarcastically that the ugly bitch would look better wearing a hood. It was agreed that Jugs would confine Lynn for three days, during which period she would be subjected to brutal discipline, but in the end would be returned to me.
Jugs has a working relationship with a heterosexual, all male biker gang. Periodically they send errant female associates to Jugs for discipline, the theory being that forced lesbianism will promote better behavior in the future. Jugs indicated she might invite the male biker gang, letting them have their way with Lynn. It would be under her personal supervision, with an assurance that Lynn would not be subjected to hot iron branding, or any other form of disfigurement.
After watching the pickup carrying Lynn exit the driveway, I returned to the basement and smiled at Darlene, who was still in a forced standing position, tethered to the ceiling. She was not smiling, and without saying a word I released her from the tether, then locked her in the holding cell, where the only comfort granted was that she would not be made to wear additional restraints, including the dreaded torture bra.
My plans for her were still incomplete, but would include a full menu of lesbian sex, physical torture, and psychological indoctrination. In the end, lacking any market appeal, she would not be sold, retained as my personal servant, or otherwise “disposed of”. She would be set free, forever indebted to me for my benevolence.
END PART 2
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