Rubber In The Night by MrBondskin MrBondskin@aol.com
Rubber In The Night Gina had come to Las Vegas with her family when she was young. Gina was only 10 years old at the time. She remembered that there was very little to do, at least as a minor. Now at the age of 24, Gina came to Vegas on her week's vacation with an agenda. She was determined to seek out some fun and adventure. To look at Gina the casual observer would think she would have all kinds of friends and lovers, and no trouble pursuing any kind of fun she desired. She was 5'8", weighed a 115, had dark brown eyes, and long chestnut-brown hair that streamed down to the middle of her back. Her waist hadn't really changed since high school, still 24 inches, while her breasts had continue to fill out a little through her college days. Gina was really proud of her 36C size and matching 36 thighs. But in spite of her easy-on-the-eyes appearance, Gina worked long hours and found very little free time in her busy Los Angeles schedule to work in any pleasure. Her contribution in the advertising office was making the company big bucks, but even Gina's boss could tell that she needed some R & R. Gina got dressed up to join the party at Studio 54 that first night of her arrival. Gina brought out her sexy black dress that barely covered her upper thighs. She was sure that if she ever started jumping on the dance floor, her black thong lingerie underneath would show for the whole world to see. She wore a cleavage-improving wonderbra, although her breasts really didn't require the improvement. And she packed the sexiest black, five-inch heels she could find in her suitcase. The buff bouncer at the entrance looked her up and down and, judging by the growing bulge in his pants was impressed with her appearance, but he didn't even look at her driver's license. "Sorry, ma'am. Private function tonight. Invitation only." Gina began to sulk. She had finally gotten herself in the mood to dance and drink and let her inhibitions go, and now this obstacle. "Excuse me, miss," a voice from behind started, " I couldn't help but notice your dilemma. Would you care to join my party?" Gina turned and sized up the man and the offer. He was decked out in full tux with a pair of women behind him. The girls kept their heads down staring at the floor and did not look at Gina. They were dressed in identical rubber outfits. Rubber leg stockings that positively shined under the casino lights and stretched over their skin incredibly tight. Each had rubber opera gloves, latex bras, and micro-mini-dresses that hardly concealed their asscheeks. Their hair, one blond and the other brunette, was braided in tight locks all the way down their backs. They held their hands behind their backs and stood perfectly still. "Oh, I don't know, I mean, the bouncer said I needed an invitation, and I, uh, um," Gina stumbled for excuses. "I can take care of this misunderstanding. You see, it is my private function," he explained. "Jerome, this lady is with me tonight." The bouncer nodded and withdrew. "Whatever you say, Mr. Bondskin." "Should I call you Mr. Bondskin too? I don't even know your name," she asked. "I'm Gina." "You may call me James, for now. Perhaps we can work out a different name in the near future." And with that strange sentiment, he extended his arm and Gina locked her arm in his and walked down the darkened corridor, moving closer to the smoke and music. Just then, Mr. Bondskin stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have invited you into my private party, but there is one requirement of all the females tonight. You must wear something of rubber material on your person. I can sense already that you have nothing, my dear." Gina examined herself rather dopishly, looking for something rubber she knew she wouldn't find. "Fortunately for you, I always carry these with me." He reached into his coatpocket and pulled out a thin black rubber collar with a locking metal clasp. He noticed Gina's quizzical look. "It is a requirement, to be fair. Here, I'll put it on." Gina leaned her neck and moved her long brown hair out of the way, exposing her neckline. Bondskin wrapped the rubber collar around her and then connected the metal lock. Gina's throat initially felt the tightness, and she swallowed instinctively. "There. A perfect snug fit," remarked Bondskin. "Now, dear, you are ready to join me." Gina entered the dance club Studio 54 and she had to blink several times to verify what her eyes were telling her head. Every kind of rubber outfit imaginable---and many that Gina would never had independently imagined---were on display under the haze of smoke and music. Dominants led submissives on leashes and chains, some rubber slaves were standing facing corners, having been instructed to "stay." Only a few of the guests were actually using the dance floor for the purpose of dancing. Most of the guests were standing at the railing with their pets, or sitting back in the booths, feeding their submissives who mostly were on their knees waiting to be fed. The cocktail waitresses working the room were decked out in extremely revealing attire, even by Las Vegas standards. Waitresses wore all red so that they could be spotted easier in the low-light room. Gina noticed how slowly and purposely the waitresses walked by her and the others. When one walked by close enough, Gina looked down and noted the unusually high heels, which were known in the fetish community as ballet shoes; the heels were 7 inches tall if they were an inch, and Gina marvelled at their ability to walk in them, let alone walk, navigate through the crowds, and balance a tray full of drinks. In addition to the painful shoes, the waitress wore a dental floss-thin g-string. The waitress in front of Gina had an exquisite ass, and as she turned away, Gina could hardly keep from staring, as the g-string didn't cover any part of her ass cheeks. All the servers were topless, unless you considered their tight rubber collars as clothing. "Please, Gina, have a seat in my personal booth," Bondskin instructed his guest. Gina shuffled in and Bondskin followed next to her, but the two quiet women walking in unison behind him did not take their seats in the booth. Instead, Bondskin commanded one of them to crawl beneath the table and then to get on all fours so that he could prop his feet up on her back. The woman did this without hesitation. The other one he directed to kneel at the end of the booth and, extending his right hand out, he ordered her to suck his fingers. She took the fingers into her mouth without question, hands behind her back. Gina tried not to stare at this, but her eyes drifted back to the kneeling woman making oral love to Bondskin's fingers. As Gina took a longer look, she saw that this woman had a thick metal ring through her nasal septum, extending nearly to her upper lip. A little glare of light could also be found in the woman's mouth for she had a fairly wide gauge metal bar piercing through her tongue as well. Gina had known friends who showed off their belly button rings, but this was a little too much she thought. Who is this guy, and who are these girls? A waitress rushed to the table. Gina's amazement continued. This girl of probably no more than 21 had a gorgeous face, but Gina was focused entirely on the elaborate dragon tattoo that began at her jawline and cascaded down to her nipples, wrapping around the areola. And within her nipples, two metal bars crisscrossed north-south, east-west in the tender flesh. After her host ordered the drinks, the waitress turned away and Gina saw what looked like a slightly raised tattoo on each of the girl's ass cheeks. On the left, the letter "J", and on the right, the letter "B." Now things were starting to get a little scary. For about an hour, Gina tried not to appear worried or fearful, and to be completely honest with herself, her host talked up a fairly intelligent and interesting conversation. In the meantime, the two quiet girls had been rearranged. Now they were instructed to unzip Bondskin's pants beneath the table and bring him to erection and keep him there with their tongues. Watching this activity made Gina incredibly nervous and a little more than uncomfortable. Suddenly, an announcer entered the center of the stage and asked for attention. After a few pleasantries, a round of applause went out to the host of the evening. The M.C. continued with what he called the Random Numbers Game. "I direct your attention to the glasses at your table. Please set your glasses, empty or full, to the edge of your table, and we're going to have someone go around and check the numbers that are embedded in the crystal on the bottom of each glass. I hold in my hand the number that we drew backstage, and I'm waiting to see which glass at which table has that number." After the inspections, and a few minutes of conferring, the number drawn was revealed to be 39. It was Gina's wine glass; she double checked to make sure. Uh, oh, what does this mean, she thought? Bondskin turned to her and told Gina this was her opportunity to be the center of attention, to have the experience of a lifetime. Gina remained unconvinced. He saw the reluctance in her eyes. "Listen, Gina. You came to Las Vegas to get away from yourself. You came out here to gamble with money, perhaps to get lucky and return home with a few impossible stories to tell your colleagues? Perhaps to live out a few neon-lit fantasies? Is this something that the overworked, hard-nosed, no thrills Gina would recommend doing? I think not. You are young and beautiful, why not be the desired object on stage? Why not take the opportunity to enjoy men and women lusting after you?" "But I, I , I don't know. All this stuff, I mean, no offense, but the rubber clothes, the rings, the weird way that---" "Listen to me. If you don't like something, just state your objection and we will stop the experience. If you become unhappy or uncomfortable, then say so. No one will think any less of you for trying. You might find yourself enjoying so much concentrated attention." Finally, Gina acquiesced and approached the stage to polite applause and a few whistles. As she made the walk to the stage, her feet began to feel heavy. She hadn't drunk that much alcohol. But the room quickly became a dazzle of unfocused light and sound. The announcer had to help her negotiate the steps to the stage. His hands looked wobbly, and out of reach when in actuality he was holding her from falling. Her last conscious thoughts were of perplexion. She couldn't understand how that glass of alcohol was hitting her so hard. Gina scanned the room wildly, looking back for her new acquiantance. Oh, my God, that glass! What was in that glass?! Bondskin smiled to himself at his table, congratulating himself on his clever game and on the impeccable timing of this soluble drug. Time to play with a new toy, he thought silently. Gina found herself waking up on stage. She could look out on the audience which was in something of a drunken frenzy, but she discovered that her body was immobile. She was seated in a large metal chair at centerstage with her arms and legs strapped down at the armrests and chair legs, respectively. Gina strained to see her condition and became more panicked when she found her body covered in latex rubber. Gina had been fitted with a tight black rubber bodysuit from head to toe, except for strategic holes in the suit: eyeholes, nose hole, two areas cut out to squeeze her ample breasts through, and a slit that exposed her pussy and asshole. Her heels had been replaced with a black pair of extreme ballet high heels that tightly laced over the latex rubber around her feet and ankles. Her ballet shoes were even taller and narrower than those on the club's waitresses. Gina felt her toes being crushed by the tips of those shoes. Her pain was caused by a unique metal nose that rounded out the very bottom of the shoe, constricting her toes to wedge tightly into that sharp metal mold. Gina spotted her captor, Bondskin, preparing something next to her, clinking and clanking with metal objects that were out of her view. She started to scream out at him, but realized her mouth was stuffed with something round and rubbery, and that was held in place by the tight rubber stretched over her mouth and entire face. Mr. Bondskin heard her muffled cries for help but ignored them. He snapped his fingers and the two quiet slaves who walked behind him suddenly appeared in front of Gina. He instructed them to lick Gina's nipples and make them fully erect. Without hesitation, the girls stationed themselves on either side of the chair and proceeded. Gina had experimented with lesbian love in college, but she had never carried it very far. She knew she preferred men and never took other girls seriously. In a different context, this attention might have been pleasurable, but Gina felt kidnapped and invaded. Bondskin observed their work and waved them aside. Gina's nipples were standing large and tall on her generous tits, and Bondskin wasted no more time. He brought a sharp needle to her left nipple and began to slowly run the needle through. Gina's head was thrown back in agony. She had never felt such sickening pain. She became nauseated instantly. Bondskin watched the needle come out the other side then he looped a thick silver ring on the needle and ran the ring through her freshly pierced nipple. Despite Gina's garbled protestations, Bondskin proceeded to match her right nipple with another shiny ring. To make the seals permanent, he brought out a lightweight welder and lit the flame to life. Gina struggled to free herself, but this only prompted the two quiet slaves to hold Gina down at the shoulders. Bondskin turned the tiny flame onto her new rings only briefly, but the intense heat was conducted through the metal and through Gina's sore nipple flesh. If someone had removed the latex rubber around her neck at that moment, he would have seen the blood vessels in her neck bulging in torment and a volume of sweat poring from her abused body. Bondskin did not give his new toy much respite. He set up his piercing tools again quickly, ordering the two slaves to hold Gina at the knees and spread her thighs wider apart. Gina renewed her panic, and her struggle to free herself from this madman. He continued. Bondskin flicked Gina's clit from out of its sheath and watched with a smile as the little center of her pleasure stood out. Gina could not control herself at this stimulation. She knew what was next, but even so her body was betraying her mind and becoming undeniably sexually stimulated. He held the needle teasingly at her clit and applied just enough light pressure against it. The clit seemed to grow more erect with the needle begging to come inside. Then he jabbed quickly through her clit. He found a larger ring and looped it into place and finally secured the ring in her exposed clit. Gina felt faint again. She was almost hoping to pass out, but for some reason her body was too stimulated to go blank. In the back of her mind, she braced herself for the inevitable. Bondskin again ignited the welder and heated the clit ring, sending intense, mindnumbing heat through her sensitive clit. After it cooled, Bondskin tugged on her thick ring to test the piercing, and to rattle his victim of course. With the violent tug on her clit, Gina finally passed out to the incredible cheers of the gathered partyers. Bondskin stood up to take his threatrical bows and he promised that the show wasn't nearly over. He announced that for the next two hours, all drinks were "on him", and he encouraged everyone to have their fill. "I need many full bladders, my friends, for the next part of our show. And everyone gets to participate this time around." Gina awoke with a sensation running through her mouth. A plastic tube had been secured just inside her mouth with black electric tape. Through that tube Gina tasted something particularly perplexing. It was awful. Her instinct was to expel the tube, but she couldn't. Her tongue sheepishly felt around for the taste...it was unlike anything she had ever swallowed before. Bondskin returned to greet his captive. He leaned in and made a smart comment or two. As she struggled, he let her know what was happening. He seemed to relish in her misery and disbelief. "I have re-arranged the plumbing in this club." Bondskin acted proud at this admonition. "Your mouth is directly connected now to all of the bathrooms in this club. Male and female, piss and shit. With every flush of a toilet, the tubes are instantly fed new material, and within seconds that waste is fed into you." Another flush of piss was making its journey through Gina's feeding tube, and another wave of sickness passed through Gina's body. Bondskin had honored his offer of free beer for three hours, and then extended the offer when he recognized how frequently the men were utilizing the facilities. Somewhere into the first hour and a half, Gina could no longer resist the compulsion to piss herself. She had already filled the bucket under her exposed pussy to a quarter full. Gina's tears were almost flowing as freely as the beer. She gave up on screaming because no one in Studio 54 could understand her and no one cared to. Bondskin's two slave girls had been positioned at the edge of the stage with their heads down and their hands behind their backs. Bondskin instructed the blond and the brunette to stand and approach Gina. Gina could barely notice want was going on around her, her only concern was maintaining a constant state of swallowing. As Gina was focused on not drowning, one slave girl unzipped her rubber micro-mini-dress and began pissing on Gina's rubber-encased face. The slave managed to stand her legs on the sturdy metal arm rests and aim her stream of piss right into Gina's eyes. Gina tried to shake her head away from the stream, but not only was her body wrapped in tight rubber, her head was strapped to the top of the evil chair and prevented from moving. The second slave took her counterpart's place, but rather than piss, she was instructed to unleash waste of considerably more solidity: shit. Gina was screaming with her eyes. They were as wide as saucers until the instant that the shit came landing on her face. The rubber was slick and the shit landed only momentarily then slid down to the side along Gina's cheek. Gina could feel more piss rushing through the tube connected to the bathrooms. In the back of her mind, Gina just knew this had to end soon, for she couldn't take much more. Her dream of rest and relaxation in Las Vegas had been destroyed. Her body had been drugged, pierced, and abused. This had to end. They had to let her go, right? "Oh, my dear, Gina," Bondskin looked down on his captive. "It has been a most entertaining evening. My party has been made complete by your attendance. But now, the party is near its end. I feel that I may have inconvenienced you too much already, so I will ask you if you want to stay or go at this point." Gina could hardly believe her ears. Finally she would get a chance to tell this madman off and as soon as her bonds were off, she was going to find the nearest cop and shove Bondskin's ass in jail. Come on, you bastard, she thought, take this gag off and I'll spit in your face. Bondskin turned to his audience on the dance floor and in the VIP booths. "Yes, yes, I think she has been a good sport for all of us this evening hasn't she?" With his prodding, the gathered party-goers clapped appropriately. "It is not so often we find someone so beautiful and full of life as this child, this Gina. But I absolutely believe she has earned a place among us, my friends. And she has earned my gratitude." Bondskin motioned to his blonde and brunette slaves and they quickly made the way up the stage, each carrying a briefcase. Their master handled one of the cases and set it down on Gina's rubber-wrapped stomach. He fiddled with the combination codes and popped it open. Gina's eyes once again registered shock. "For you, Gina, one million dollars, American. That's for putting up with the likes of me, dear, this evening." Gina was overcome. She was delirious. Could all of this torture and humiliation really have been the luckiest experience of her life? One million dollars?! She could quit her advertising job in L.A., take a trip around the world, buy a nice home out in the suburbs...all the possibilities! Bondskin took a pair of scissors and carefully cut away the rubber that covered her mouth and held in the ball gag. Gina's mouth still had the taste and smell of piss as she widened her jaws and licked her lips for the first time in hours. Her mouth was stiff and her lips were dry, but a million bucks could buy a lot of lip balm. "I hope that you will accept my gratitude, Gina." She nodded her head forward furiously, wanting to take her arms out of their bonds and hug the man that only minutes ago she wanted arrested and hanged. "I've never seen that much money before. I can't believe it, I mean, I just can't believe it's real." "Oh, it's real. And it's yours. But, you know, it's still early, and the party is still young, and well, I do have the other briefcase for you too...if you would wish to stick around. But if you only want one million dollars, well, I understand. You are of course free to leave with only that if you choose. No one will stop you---you can gamble it away or invest it or frankly whatever, I don't care. A million dollars, two million dollars doesn't mean that much to me personally. But I can offer you much more, obviously. What do you say, dear, the choice is yours." Gina needed only about thirty seconds to review the key points in her mind. All in all, she hadn't been tortured that much, right. She might even grow to like her piercings; or they could be removed. And even with all the piss and shit that entered her mouth, she didn't die from it. She was still living, and one million dollars richer. And she could be TWO million dollars richer if she only agreed. Two million in the bank and she wouldn't have to lift a finger for the next sixty years unless she wanted to. The choice was made. "Yes, James, yes, Mr. Bondskin, I would like to stay for the other briefcase." "Excellent, excellent," Bondskin smiled that celebratory smile like he had just swallowed the canary and whispered something to his second slave holding the unopened briefcase. "Did you hear everyone? Gina has agreed to stay and play with us! And she certainly is not the first one, nor will she be the last one unable to refuse us." Gina sensed an odd calm in the room. There were brief whispers and a few people shaking their heads as if in disbelief, but sparingly little noise. It seemed that the bartenders and waitstaff even stopped to see her decision. Suddenly, Gina didn't feel right. Gina rolled her eyes up to the right. The blonde slave was pushing the air out of a hypodermic needle and bringing the needle down to Gina's arm. "Wait, wait! Please wait! What are you going to do to me for two million dollars?! Bondskin looked puzzled with his plaything. He tilted his head much like a puppy. "Oh, you mean, you thought this second briefcase held another million dollars? Oh my, well, there's been a slight misunderstanding. Let me show you what you actually get. Bondskin brought the briefcase over to her view and quickly popped the top open. Gina took one look at the contents inside and passed out screaming. The End
Rubber In The Night, Episode 2 By MrBondskin Gina's eyes started to blink open. She was finally regaining consciousness. She looked out blankly for a few seconds, then she remembered seeing the briefcase full of branding irons and letter templates. Oh my God, she instantly thought again. At that moment, she heard Bondskin giving directions to his two favorite slave girls. Gina instantly recognized them from Studio 54. Gina started to move in their general direction, but realized abruptly that she was unable to move. Bondskin had begun another party upstairs in his private suit at the MGM. Gina was facing the glass of the window, not more than two inches from it. There were no concrete walls on this end of the suite, only glass walls. Her arms were spread wide above her head, shackled to the chains from the ceiling. ( Bondskin had a few minor alterations made to the suite since his arrival). Her ankles were spread and bound by chains that descended to the floor. Gina's rubber body suit had been removed and she was completely naked now save for the new rubber collar placed around her neck. It was three inches tall and served to keep her neck in an uncomfortably upright position. Gina looked out the window briefly and saw that the suite must have been 40 stories high. She saw the flashing neon lights of the Tropicana Hotel and the cars on the streets below, but everything faded when her mind's eye shot back to the contents of that briefcase. A gag was quickly applied to her mouth, and she tried to fight the rubbery penis that pressed hard against her tongue. She could hear something sizzle behind her. Gina could just turn her head enough---she recognized the two brands she saw in his briefcase. Within a few seconds, Bondskin was directly behind her, and without warning he applied the first white hot brand to her left asscheck. Gina screamed into her gag. It was as if her whole body was on fire. The pain of her recent nipple and clit piercings paled in comparison. Not giving her much time to recover, Bondskin approached her right asscheek and applied the companion brand. Tears streamed down her face. Her body shook as wildly as the chain restraints would allow. Gina's breathing was labored with her mouth effectively plugged. Gina was about to pass out when the brunette slave waved some ammonia under the new captive's nose. Gina regained her consciousness, but she remained weak and quite ghostly. Bondskin stepped back and admired his work. The wounds were fresh, but he knew from past experience that these brands were laid long enough and deep enough to make readable impressions. When the healing process was complete, her asschecks from left to right would read "J" and "B". The brunette slave, named Juliette, attached a chain leash to the silver ring which freshly pierced Gina's clit. The blonde slave, named Julia, began the process of removing Gina from her spreadeagled shackles. Gina was simply too weak to fight, and she was easily moved to the thick carpet on the floor. Juliette instructed the new slave to get on all fours and crawl. Gina was dazed and in tremendous pain; she felt powerless and too afraid to resist any commands coming from anyone. Juliette and Julia escorted Gina to one of the immaculate bathrooms designated for the slaves. When Gina slowed, Juliette would tug on the clit leash and Gina would put a little more energy into her crawl. The job of the two slaves was to clean and primp the new addition. She looked fairly ragged from her recent ordeals. Bondskin in the meantime, met with some of his close friends and associates who he had invited from the party downstairs. Gina was led to a massage table where she laid flat on her stomach. Her new nipple rings hit against the towel on the board and her chest drew back at the sensation. Julia shoved Gina's back and forced her hard against the table. These girls may have been ultra-submissive around their boss, Gina thought, but they have no problem being mean with me. A special ointment was withdrawn from its bottle, and each of the two slave girls rubbed the solution generously on Gina's injured backside. Gina instinctly began to complain from the stinging in her ass. Juliette rasied Gina's neck with the O-ring and slowly, purposefully pumped on the penis gag. The gag was inflated to near capacity; Gina thought her jaw would crack apart before the rubber exploded. Her eyes were pleading with Juliette. "Will you behave now? Will you be silent?" Juliette asked in a native English accent. Gina nodded her head quickly, tears rolling down her cheeks with every furious nod. Just then, Bondskin entered the bathroom. He began to caress Gina's long brown hair. He caught a few of the tears from her face. Juliette and Julia continued their assignment. "I want her ready by 5 p.m. tomorrow. I have some special guests flying in from Tokyo. I want my latest acquisition to look appropriate." Bondskin turned to his blonde slave, Julia. "You will recall Mr. Hahira from our brief stay in Japan." "Yes, sir." Julia made the shortest, but most appropriate statement she could. Her head was bowed down (as was the custom in front of her master) and she looked out over her septum ring and stared down at her stretched pussy lips, each inner lip with 3 thick rings. While she remained silent to the room, the nightmare of Japan was raining like flashcards in her mind. Gina was thoroughly cleaned, inside and out. She had both cold and hot water enemas, and she struggled to keep her screams quiet behind the inflatable gag. A tight latex cap was stretched over her hair and she was dipped into a solvent that loosened all the hair from her body. After being dipped and soaked, Gina was laid out and she felt the other slaves literally wiping away all of her body hair from the neck down. For the first time in years, she felt cool air against her pussy lips with no pubic hair to act as a buffer. Gina was removed to a separate bedroom where her stiff, tall collar was replaced with a less painful one. The O-ring was chained to the left and to the right of the bed. Each chain led to an eyebolt located on either side of the floor. The effect was to center Gina on the bed. Her wrists were fastened together behind her back, and her ankles were fettered with several loops of form-fitting chain and then padlocked. Her inflatable penis remained, although Julia did reduce the pressure slightly before turning out the lights on Gina. Left alone in the dark, Gina's tears renewed. The events of the night and now the early morning came flooding back into her confused and helpless mind. Her body was virtually immobile now, but her mind raced, wondering what terrors awaited her tomorrow. Her body was exhausted and she wanted to just fall asleep and awaken from this nightmare, but the noises in the adjacent room were distracting and frightening. The muffled screams of Julia and Juliette filtered into her bedroom. Gina could make out the laughter of several men and the sharp sounds of whips cracking in the air and on the flesh. The sounds of violent fucking later, followed by more muffled pleas. Despite the audio terror and her own tears, Gina's body finally yielded to sleep. * * * * * * * Gina felt a tremendous tug at her clit ring. Her bonds had been removed and Juliette was beginning to drag Gina across the bed. Gina quickly took the hint and scurried to the floor. Crawling behind the slave girl, Gina saw the fresh whips marks which colored Juliette's entire backside. There must have been a thousand little bruises on the girl's ass, as the whips danced on and around Juliette's brands. Gina was escorted to the bathtub where she was washed thoroughly again by Bondskin's two servants. On this day, their outfits were elaborate, if not unfathomably extreme. Juliette had two large silver rings through her nipples, and a chain connected the two rings, drawing her breasts nearer to one another. Her three sets of pussy rings were padlocked together, effectively closing her sex. She wore shiny black opera gloves, latex leggings and very narrow, impossibly high 7-inch heels. Juliette wore her standard rubber latex collar, and her brown hair in a tight ponytail. Julia had all of the same rings, and the same padlocks, but her arms and legs were not molded by latex coverings. Rather, someone had painted black lettering down the length of her legs and arms. The symbols and words were Japanese, so Gina was clueless as to any of the meanings, but she figured that the significance had something to do with Mr. Hahira's visit. There were small yet distinct markings on Julia's facial cheeks. Gina was momentarily forgetting her own worries. Her worries would have been doubled had she understood that the meanings were the English language equivalent of "slut", "slave," "painlover", and other like-minded terms. Julia also had a different pair of high-heel shoes. They were exactly like the ballet heels Gina had noticed being worn by one of the waitstaff last night. Julia demonstrated the same grace and aptitude while walking slowly in this 8-inch high, toe-smashing pair of heels. Juliette and Julia spent the afternoon making over the latest captive. Hair, eyes, nails, the works. Despite wearing a restrictive collar around her neck and a fully-inflated pump gag in her mouth, this afternoon cruised like a smooth day spa voyage. But when it came time to dress Gina, the voyage became rocky again. Gina's arms were bent at the elbow and pinned behind her. Her wrists were bound with several wraps of black electrical tape. Julia applied lubricant to a silver-colored, 7-inch long metal dildo and then rather quickly inserted it fully inside Gina's pussy. Almost as soon as the dildo was inside, it naturally began to ease its way down earthward. Julia walked in front of the wide-eyed Gina and gestured to a hand-held remote. It looked just like the keyless entry remote Gina was given with her new company car. Julia keyed the red button and tiny nodules expanded from the surface of the dildo and pressed against Gina's inner walls. The dildo was then effectively locked. Instinctively, Gina's muscles tried to expel the device, but to no avail. The blonde-haired slave pointed to the green button. "This one releases the pressure, but I don't think the master will be using that button very much. And this last orange button, you don't want that one pressed. Let's just say, it's there to make sure you don't run off or misbehave in public." A customized three-quarter length corset was next brought to fit onto Gina. The latex corset had lacing on the back and front sides. There were holes in the front for Gina's breasts to just barely squeeze through and a hole on the lower backside for her branded ass to squeeze through. A strap ran from the bottom of the sturdy material, while two sets of straps wrapped parallel, above and below Gina's breasts. The lower strap on her chest gave her breasts some added support. And the strap at the hemline of the corset ran between Gina's asschecks to a buckle at the waistline. The corset's whole purpose was a time-honored one, just as in the Victorian era; it pulled her waistline in, and emphasized the girl's bust and ass. Bondskin's girls pulled and tightened, then adjusted, then repeated the process. Gina's arms were smashed into her back, and the whole effect made her arms seem to disappear from her body. Below her knees, Gina had some movement, but because her thighs were cinched together, it was impossible to put one foot in front of the other. Gina would have to take baby steps like this. To make matters worse for walking, the slaves laid Gina down and prepared her feet for the shoes she was to wear that evening. Julia returned with black electrical tape and with Gina's left foot in her lap, she began wrapping the foot furiously. She tapped the foot all the way to the ankle and then made more continuous loops where any skin was still showing. Gina's grimaced as Julia made tight circles with the tape. Julia repeated the taping on the right foot, even making the electrical tape tighter. From a suitcase that carried 10 identical pairs of these ankle-high ballet heels (sizes 5 through 10), Juliette withdrew a pair of size 7 and a half. As both girls worked the left heel on, Gina was saying to herself that they had gotten the wrong size. That was of course the whole idea. After much pulling and pushing, the right shoe was up to her ankle, and smashing Gina's taped up toes. No sooner had they gotten it on completely they jerked the shoe right back off. Gina could relax her feet, but only momentarily. Juliette returned with a half size smaller. The task was more difficult now, but the two servant girls made the heels fit. They let Gina's feet become accustomed to the new tightness. Gina's feet were arching like a ballerina and her toes were crunched into an inconceivably narrow passage. The pain lying down was nothing compared to the pain in her feet upon standing up. The two slaves hoisted Gina up from the leather couch and planted her on her new ballet shoes. Suddenly, all the blood came rushing into her feet and the pain of trying to keep her balance was evident on Gina's gagged face. Gina was only able to take the tinyest of steps because of the corset material on her thighs. And it seemed that the slowness of her steps only made the pressure on her toes that much greater. She could not balance herself. Julia and Juliette literally held her body up on either side and prevented the corseted captive from falling. Gina was repositioned in front of the glass windows, this time with her backside facing the outside world. They needed the help of a step ladder to attach two chains from the ceiling to the O-ring collared on Gina's neck. The chains were adjusted for Gina's new height and then once secured, the girls let Gina balance herself. Gina fell backward slightly but the two chains descending from her right and left caught her O-ring and prevented her from falling. The strain on her collar and neck was instant, so Gina was forced to regain some kind of footing despite her ballet heels. Juliette and Julia let Gina work out this little dance on her own while they applied the finishing touches to each other. Gina's wimpered and squirmed inside her corset prison, but her arms were of course useless for balance. Her toes were throbbing in pain, and her neck was feeling the strain of the collar lifting toward the ceiling. Gina struggled just to stay still. After 15 minutes---an eternity to Gina---the two slave girls were crawling back into the great room being led on leashes by their master. Bondskin took them to the eyebolts on the floor and positioned Juliette to Gina's right and Julia to Gina's left. Juliette's platform shoes had been replaced with ballet heels that strapped up the length of her latex leggings. Their nipples had been painted a light red, which made their nipple rings shine a brighter color silver, and their brands had been touched up with black body paint. Both girls had been oiled down to accentuate the lines of their bodies, and each had their long hair slicked back and tied into a tight ponytail. Heavy metal collars replaced the thinner rubber collars, along with metal manacles padlocked to their wrists. Each girl sat back on their knees with their legs slightly spread, revealing their smooth, padlocked, and well-oiled pussy lips. Arms were behind their backs, eyes looking down to the floor. Bondskin attached the leashes to the eyebolts on the floor. There was little slack in the chains that led to their necks, so neither girl could rise if she wanted to. Bondskin saw the ongoing war that Gina was having just to maintain a balanced position. He smiled slightly, then went to change into more formal wear himself. A half an hour later, Bondskin appeared again, but nothing had changed in the slavegirl's expressions. Gina was exhausted now from fighting with her incorrigible position, and the Juliette and Julia knew they were to wait just like this until Hahira arrived; possibly for some time after that arrival as well. Bondskin reached for Gina's gag and gave it a quick squeeze, eliciting a loud wimper from the girl. He retreated to the well-stocked bar and made himself a drink. He occupied himself with some papers and checked his accounts with his laptop. Bondskin was acting as if the girls weren't trussed up at all, as if the girls hardly deserved his attention, Gina thought to herself. Almost a full hour into her balancing act, the phone rang. The guests had arrived downstairs. Bondskin was only on the phone for a few seconds, then he stood himself up and straightened his tux and tie. He walked into the doorway and tried to imagine the glimpse that Hahira would first get as he entered the great room. Ten minutes later, Hahira was escorted into the main room by Bondskin. He grinned widely as his eyes adjusted to the perverse presentation in front of him. Hahira was about 40 pounds overweight, but his expensive tailored suits masked most of the girth. His dark hair was short and his beard was cut very close. He gently stroked across that beard as he got his first eyefull of Gina. Hahira walked over to Julia, who stared down at the floor, and he stroked her head like she were a familiar pet. He jerked her nipple chain, and Julia's body jumped at the shock. "Can I make you a drink, old friend," Bondskin offered, as he walked to the bar. "Yes, thank you. It was a long flight, J.B., first I need to take a piss." From across the room Bondskin gestured to the enslaved girls. "Take your pick." Hahira unzipped his pants and withdrew his cock. He instructed Julia to raise her head and open her mouth. A few seconds later, Hahira was pissing a steady yellow stream into Julia's mouth, almost faster than she could swallow. Gina began to look down, but then closed her eyes to hide from the disgusting sight. Bondskin came over with a pair of glasses in his hands and waited for Hahira to zip up. They seated themselves on the couch and began to sip at their vodka. The two worked out there plans for the evening in a matter of minutes. "So, what do you want to do first?" "Gamble, J.B., gamble. I just closed a huge deal last weekend and I am ready to risk it on some tables tonight." "And after gambling?" "We can join up with my executives. We have the 37th floor all to ourselves for the weekend. They deserve a unique vacation, J.B., and I knew you were just the kind of person to supply it," Hahira concluded his comments by pointing over to the scantily clad beauties next to the window. "And I did have one other item I wanted to discuss with you, J.B." Suddenly, Hahira's voice and body language took on a decidedly more serious posture. "I wanted to see if I could finally convince you to---" "No, no," Bondskin waved him off. "No old buddy, I know what you are going to say, and Julia's not for sale. She's too valuable to me, and to the new ones I bring in." "I knew you might still be stubborn about this. Well, I brought something along that I hope might change your mind, J.B." Hahira pulled out his slender cell phone and barked some orders in Japanese. He just as quickly snapped the cell back in place. Bondskin sipped from his vodka martini and leaned back laughing. "What's going on, Kunato. What have you got up your sleeve? You know you asked me six months ago about Julia and my decision is final." "My assistant is bringing over the one thing that might alter your decision." Although she did not look up or say a word, Julia was listening with great attention. She still had nightmares from her experiences with Hahira, and while Bondskin was a demanding master, she knew Hahira to be what she considered a merciless master. As soon as the knock at the door was heard, Hahira jumped up to let his assistant in. Bondskin walked over to Julia and raised her brown eyes to meet his. "Don't worry, Julia, I'm not going to sell you to anyone, alright?" "Yes, sir," she barely got out before Hahira returned to the main room. Hahira's assistant, a muscular man in his early 30s wearing sharp business attire, entered the room with a laptop computer and immediately brought the computer to life. He sat at a nearby desk and after a few minutes of loading and searching, he nodded to Hahira and left the room. "Actually," Hahira's voice began, "I should have been more precise. It is not something that will change your mind: it is someone." Hahira turned the laptop's screen toward his host. Bondskin casually turned his head around to the computer screen. He almost instantly dropped his glass to the floor. When Julia saw the glass fall from her master's hand, she broke from her standard downcast stare and looked up to the screen. Her gasp too was audible. * * * * * end of Part 2
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