THE CASINO
by Master Ivan
Chapter 21
She was known to most of the slaves and employees only as the chief training Mistress. No one except Morgan knew her name.
Pamela DiNatale had met Morgan at a cocktail party several years before he built the Casino. She had always been a beautiful, sensuous bitch with a sadistic streak a yard wide and a mile long.
Her first encounter with Morgan was more like a challenge, made and accepted. She had been aggressive and daring with him. He liked her and took the challenge. He used her totally that night, in all three of her openings, gave her her first whipping, and she spent the night tied spread-eagled to his bed where he used her frequently.
They became discreet lovers. He would sometimes take her to parties, but as his domination of her grew, he would more frequently take home other women, allowing her to serve them both.
For several years the pattern continued as Morgan eventually acquired close to a dozen women ready to submit to him on his own terms. Pamela, the most beautiful and talented of them all, learned to be the most submissive. As such, Morgan allowed her, eventually, to help him train the others.
When he started setting up the Casino, Pamela arrived with Morgan, his first girl. The two of them, together, designed the entire training facility, placing it in operation even while the hotel was still under construction. By the time the Casino welcomed its first guests, she was officially the head training Mistress with a dozen fully qualified slave-girls and half a dozen more in training. Now the numbers had multiplied many times and the original staff was fully involved in training new girls.
Although Morgan continued using her as his own slave on a semi-regular basis, her enslavement to him was kept under wraps. It would not be good for her image to be labelled as a favorite.
Now, especially, when she had done so well with Nanette and some of the other new girls. To her credit, she had taken on some of the most rebellious of the new slave girls and worked magic with their emotional chemistry, turning them into some of the Casino's best slaves. Morgan summoned her to his office.
She sat with him, dressed in her usual training paraphernalia. In this case, she wore black thigh-high patent leather boots, a black satin teddy with leather trim, black gloves and a spiked leather collar. Her panties were trimmed with the kind of fringe that attracted the eyes of her slaves, hypnotically drawing them to that which was forbidden.
"You look wonderful today, as always."
"Thank you, Sir." She stood before his desk, proudly.
"I wanted to talk with you about Nanette, as well as some of the other girls."
"Yes?"
"You've done very well with them. Nanette has done a complete turnaround. Nubia, stubborn as she is, may be breaking down her last barriers soon. You deserve a reward."
"Thank you, Sir!"
"What do you say to two full days on your own, with two thousand dollars in credits to play with?"
"Thank you very much, Sir!"
Now, he smiled at her, the kind of smile to put a chill down the spine of any woman who knew him.
"There is, however, one small problem..."
"Sir?"
"Nanette's first visit to me left much to be desired. She was stubborn and selfish, not truly submissive. Considering how much you did with her in two days, there was no excuse for her first performance."
She was nervous now. Morgan seldom punished her anymore, but when he did, he did so more harshly than he did any other slave.
"I'm sorry, Sir."
"Mixing rewards with punishments is a delicate matter, especially with someone in your unique position. So first, you will consult with Mei-Ling. I've already briefed her. During the next two days, you will work off a one thousand dollar penalty in trade; she will inform me of your plans.
"Second, you will, by the end of your break, gamble away your two thousand dollar allowance, with appropriate payment for losses. If you wish to select slaves for your own use, that's fine. But I hope to see you both winning and losing in a big way."
"Sir, it sounds very exciting. I'll see Mei-Ling immediately and start working out some ideas."
"Have a good weekend, cunt!"
She left the office and immediately checked in with Mei-Ling who was just finishing her daily training. She was nude as she exited her class and had worked up quite a sweat during her calisthenics.
"Mei-Ling."
"Yes, Mistress?" She knelt at her Mistress' feet in perfect position.
"Walk with me, Mei-Ling, and talk with me. For the moment, as equals."
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you."
"Morgan has discussed my upcoming weekend with you?"
"Yes, he has."
"I'm looking forward to it. The rest and leisure will do me good, as well as the ability to mingle as an ordinary guest."
"I'm sure."
"But you know, I've talked with you before, privately, about my submissive side. It was Morgan's order, but I find the idea very arousing."
"Yes."
She stopped their walk and faced the slave. "Mei-Ling, here is our consultation in a nutshell. I don't want to choose my penalty. I want you to decide. I want it to be a surprise, a vicious, degrading, intense ordeal. I can endure treatment like any slave in the Casino. But just this once, I want to have no say in what happens."
Mei-Ling smiled, understanding, also relishing the idea of having carte-blanche with her Mistress. "I understand."
"There will be no reprimands later, unless it is for your hesitation. It must be public, at least in part. And I want it to be memorable. Beyond that, no limits. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yesss......" Now, Mei-Ling's voice bore the snake-like hiss it did when her own sadistic side came out.
"And now, for a little motivation. Kneel, as a slave!"
There in the open corridor, with a fair amount of traffic passing, Mei-Ling knelt, knees spread, wrists crossed behind her. Handcuffs were applied, then a pair of clothespins to her nipples. She groaned in pain at the last, her body catching up to her mind slowly as it passed from the dominant to the submissive state.
Her Mistress stepped behind her, then, taking her by the hair, forced her head backward until her back was severely arched, stretching her breast flesh, causing her additional pain from the tit-clamps. She withdrew her cat-o-nine with the other hand, then said, "Now, pig, eat your Mistress' cunt! I'm going to whip your frontside until you make me come. If you break position, or fail to please me, I'll put you in some punitive restraint that you'll remember!"
She stepped over Mei-Ling's face, drew her up forcefully by the hair into her own cunt, then swung the whip, striking the slave hard across the navel.
Mei-Ling licked and sucked with great skill. Each time the whip fell across her belly, it caused her body to flex in response to the pain. This brought Mei-Ling's face up hard into her Mistress' cunt on each stroke, enhancing her pleasure with the slave's pain. Mistress' orgasm came quickly; she made sure Mei-Ling cleaned her well, including her ass, before allowing her to rise.
"Now, slut, have your training Mistress install a large butt-plug in your ass. Your hands will remain cuffed. While so equipped, you will spend the following two hours touring the Casino, the training areas, the equipment room and anywhere else where you can get ideas for this weekend. Think of it as revenge. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Now stand up straight and stick out those tits. I'm going to knock off those clothespins with the cat..."
Mei-Ling stood properly, submitting her breasts as ordered for the two brief, painful strokes. Then, free of the clothespins but bearing fresh welts, she walked off, still handcuffed, her mind already reeling with ideas...
Pamela DiNatale seldom dressed as anything but the best Dominatrix in the Casino. More often than not, her breasts and/or pussy were exposed, or nearly so. She was frequently corseted and seldom wore boots falling below her knees. She hadn't worn a long skirt in years. Now, she wanted to outfit herself to play the role of a guest.
Clothes were available. There was an in-house tailor who made most of the staff's clothes, all of the slave's clothing (of course, this was a relatively small part of the operation due to a lack of demand...), and handled, as well, any special purpose items.
Pamela was measured and fitted. She instructed the tailor to set her up with three outfits. She wanted to look elegant, but still provocative in the extreme. The clothes should be removable quickly and easily. They would include one gown, one two-piece outfit and one more ensemble that would mark her as a slave. Beyond that, he would have total discretion. She would be back for the gown in a few hours and would need the two-piece outfit that evening. She wished to see none of it until it was to be worn.
Done with her preparations, she withdrew to her quarters for a shower and a nap.
Mei-Ling, in the meantime, made rapid progress. She spoke with several members of the staff, including construction carpenters, and after a brief additional talk with Morgan, construction was started on two rush projects that would be set up in the Casino's auditorium for an unveiling to take place soon. There was a third project as well, but the equipment was already built for that one.
Pamela started her time off officially at sundown. She appeared in the Casino with a look which was not only new but unrecognizable. Her hair was a shade darker. Instead of allowing it to hang loose below her shoulders, she had a severe pony-tail gathered at the top of her head. Her eyebrows were darker, but plucked to a thin line. Her makeup caused her complexion to appear lighter. Her lipstick was usually done in moderation, making her lips seem thin. Now, her lips were bright red and very full. No one in the Casino would recognize her.
Her dress, chosen entirely on the whim of the tailor, was in bright red. It was red satin, strapless with a daring cut into her cleavage. The skirt was ankle length but slit to the hip on the left side. There were three openings along the left bodice. The first exposed her torso through an oval-shaped opening to almost the nipple of her left breast. The second oval revealed her lower ribcage while the third, the largest, opened from her back to her navel. Beneath the dress, she wore only a garter belt and black patterned stockings. Her shoes were strapped opera pumps with six inch heels.
She started with poker. A quick $100 stake won her some head from a nondescript slave whom she beat with a riding crop throughout her service. A tour of some slot machines had her winning a few and losing a few. She left the section thoroughly aroused and ready for heavier action.
Blackjack was next. Rose was dealing; she thought it would be interesting to test Rose and herself at the same time. She chose an appropriately heavy stake: $250, to be either lost or doubled. The loser would be hung naked by her ankles from a swivel hook. Her wrists would be fastened toward the floor. She would be given thirty hard strokes with the cat all over her body as she spun with the blows. She would then hang for a full hour. Finally, she would orally service the winner while being caned, still hanging from her ankles.
Rose shuddered. She was rarely challenged to this degree. She looked to her supervisor but could see she would get no mercy. She could only hope the cards broke for her.
Pamela's eyes were fire. Here was the excitement she never enjoyed as a Mistress. This was playing for keeps. She won a few hands early, but then started to lose. An hour into the session, after a few ups and downs, she lost her entire stake.
Rose was visibly relieved. "Strip the pig!"
Two assistants took Pamela by the arms and removed her clothes, locking them away. Wrist and ankle shackles were applied and locked. Laid on her face, her ankles were attached to the hoist and she was raised up until her fingertips cleared the floor. She was already panting, breaking out into a sweat as her wrists were connected to an eyebolt in the floor.
Rose was pleased to interrupt the card game to start Pamela's payback. Smiling down at Pamela's face, she stroked the full-sized cat-o-nine tails she would be using. She took Pamela's hip in one hand and slowly rotated her body as it hung from the swivels. "Time to pay up, cunt!"
Pamela moaned quietly, unprotesting. She was afraid, yet she knew from experience she would survive. She knew well the pain she would experience.
Rose allowed her to see when and where the first stroke landed, as it caught her front side, straight across her hips and pussy. It spun her around, and the second landed on her ass. The next two hit her breasts and belly. There was no break between strokes, and they landed all over her body. Pamela screamed from the third stroke on.
Finally, done with the initial whipping, Rose resumed her game. Pamela hung by her ankles throughout the remainder of the cardplay and through the rest of the paybacks. Interestingly, a male winner was the last to be paid off. He wanted just a straight fuck. Unfortunately for Pamela, this left Rose's pussy both satisfied and full of the man's come.
She came to Pamela immediately. She took her by the hair and pulled her face upward into her own cunt. The first stroke of the cane caught her by surprise--an assistant was wielding the cane and had approached unseen.
Rose worked her cunt into Pamela's hanging face. The cleaning took little time and less than ten strokes of the cane. Bringing Rose to another orgasm would take longer. With the stimulus of the cane, Pamela worked hard.
Several times, she lost control under the pain. She broke into screaming fits, losing track of her efforts. Rose's heavy hand in her hair brought her back on track each time, in spite of the continued torture.
Finally, with Pamela's lips and tongue utterly exhausted, Rose went into orgasm. She literally fucked Pamela's mouth as she hung limp, unable to lick as the cane continued its work. By the time it ended, Pamela had received over forty strokes and had hung by her ankles over an hour and a half.
She was finally released and allowed to dress. She returned to her room, showered and changed into her second outfit. It was topped by a white spandex halter which barely covered her breasts and left her back naked. A white micro-skirt of the same material exposed her lower ass-cheeks. Her feet wore clogs with very high heels. No stockings or underwear this time; she found the near-exposure exciting, especially in light of her submissive side coming to the forefront.
She went to the craps tables and put up a $100 stake. For a change of pace, and to enhance her own arousal, she played for simply an hour of severe restraint--no sex or corporal punishment. A slave would serve the penalty if the house lost.
Pamela won quickly. To her surprise, the slave supplied turned out to be Cara, whom she hadn't seen for awhile. She thought back over Cara's record, noting the fact that she had made much progress under her recent punishments.
She was already naked, her hands locked behind her back. Pamela added a large penis gag, to avoid having Cara complain and earn more unnecessary punishment. Her ankles were locked together, then she was made to lie face down on the floor.
Pamela locked her ankles and wrists together, attached a chain to that lock from above and finally hoisted her up several feet into the air in a hanging hog-tie.
The pain was obvious on Cara's face as she groaned loudly. Pamela smiled at her, caressing her face and said, "You look beautiful like that, pig. Don't go away!" She then sat down several feet away, ordered a drink and watched her hang for the entire hour. She found Cara's suffering so stimulating, she actually bought the services of another slave to eat her during the show and take the edge off her sexual need.
Now rested, Pamela was still aroused and wanted more action. She next went to the roulette tables. She resolved herself to some heavy action for this session, win or lose. Consulting briefly with the table supervisor, she agreed to a four-hour ordeal for the loser involving the whole works. Pamela would work out the details later if she won, and the house would exercise its choice if she lost. The stake was $500, in $20 bets.
The game wore on for over an hour. Several times, she approached her limit on losses but won big pots and survived. Finally, she blew her stake.
She was stood up, supervisors on either side of her; she was stripped naked and handcuffed. To her shock, Mei-Ling appeared before her.
Nothing was said to acknowledge Pamela's true position at the Casino. Only Mei-Ling and Morgan knew that. But the looks exchanged between them assured Pamela that the upcoming ordeal would be part of her payback under Morgan's orders and the result of Mei-Ling's most fertile imagination.
She was collared and leashed and brought to the auditorium's stage. There, she was greeted by a device resembling a water wheel. It was large, some ten feet in diameter and rotated slowly on its axle. She noticed straps along one side. The wheel also had some sort of trough beneath it, but Pamela could not yet deduce its purpose.
She was stood at one end of the wheel which was stopped briefly. Her wrists were fastened to the rough wood by the straps, then the wheel was rotated upward a short distance, drawing her off the ground. Another strap was drawn tightly around the small of her waist, then two more straps drew her ankles back, arching her body along the curvature of the wheel. She observed that the position of the wheel slats behind her back at her breasts, as well as behind her ass, caused her most erotic features to be thrust out invitingly. She also observed that the width of the wheel was a bit over three feet, allowing her ankles to be widely spread.
The wheel started rotating again, taking Pamela with it feet first. She cleared the bottom of the trough beneath the wheel by a couple of inches, then slowly rose up the other side of the wheel upside-down. As she rode the wheel, she felt like she was flying blind, leading with her cunt. She made each complete rotation on the wheel in about one minute.
Mei-Ling took center stage and announced to a growing crowd, "Welcome! Our performance is about to start." At this, Pamela shuddered. Her current restraint was not to be taken lightly. If the performance in which she was to be featured had not even started yet, she might indeed be subjected to a hard time.
"The cunt you see displayed before you has incurred a sizable debt here at the Casino. We are here this evening to assist her in paying off a large portion of that debt.
"To open our performance, we'd like to invite members of the audience to participate and show us their skill with the whip. We can accommodate four people at a time, two on each side. Standard rates will apply."
Pamela observed, from her sometimes inverted perspective, another slave carrying out the whips. They were strap-leather, five tails on each one, attached to a two foot wooden handle. She winced at the sight of them--they would be painful and would welt her easily. Worse, with her back to the wheel, her already welted frontside would be the target.
One at a time, four people came forward, two males and two females. They were checked in, their numbers recorded and they took position.
As she expected, the first stroke was a shock, landing at her abdomen, knocking the wind out of her. Her body passed under the wheel, and as she rose upside-down on the other side the second stroke fell on her breasts.
Within the first minute, all four positions were filled. She received two strokes on each side of the wheel, four each minute. She screamed readily, and the line of people waiting to use the whips grew longer.
She cried soon, the tears running down her face. Her breasts took quite a bit of punishment. On the side where she was head-down, her pussy was a popular target, as were the tender undersides of her breast-meat, exposed in her inversion.
After perhaps thirty minutes, the whips were exchanged for those made of lighter leather. They could continue to inflict a high level of pain without welting their victim unnecessarily. There was no mercy involved--Pamela was to ride the wheel for a long time. Her screams continued.
An hour into her ordeal, Mei-Ling took the microphone again.
"I am pleased to announce the next stage in tonight's festivities. This pig on the wheel is performing well--I notice quite a number of erect cocks in the audience that, I'm sure, would enjoy using her body. I'm sure many of the pussies out there are also dripping wet. You'll be pleased to hear that your needs will be fulfilled--all of them. Please form a line onstage!"
To Pamela's horror, over twenty people lined up. Over three quarters of them were men, and she could see bulges in their pants when her position on the wheel faced them and when she wasn't busy screaming under the whips.
Mei-Ling asked the gentleman at the front of the line, "How would you like her?" He indicated a desire to use her cunt. She asked which side of the wheel he would prefer her to be on--the novelty of fucking her upside-down amused him.
The wheel stopped. Pamela hung from her straps head-down, her pussy at the ideal height to be fucked. He entered her immediately; to her embarrassment, she herself was soaking wet. In spite of the pain, humiliation and helplessness, or perhaps because of them, she was totally aroused.
He came quickly. As soon as he withdrew, the wheel's rotation resumed. So did the whipstrokes, a pair of them every thirty seconds.
One and a half rotations later, the wheel stopped again. Her head was up, at the right height to suck the next man's cock. He also had a quick orgasm, and the line continued. Her cunt and mouth were used with equal frequency, and more than half of her customers enjoyed her in the head-down position.
An hour later, she was dripping wet with the come running out of her cunt and down her body as she rode the wheel. Clearly, her patrons were well aware of this as more and more of the males began using her mouth. Of course, all the females used her mouth exclusively. Soon, the males, too, used only her mouth, and her frustration mounted. As she swallowed yet another load, and the whipstrokes and rotation resumed, she was disturbed to see Mei-Ling again take the microphone. Now, things would surely get worse.
"Our pig appears to be in need of a cleaning. I notice many of you have been consuming quite a bit of our fine refreshments as the entertainment proceeds. Perhaps, some of you would like to relieve yourselves now and take part in the show..."
Pamela groaned into the cunt she was servicing. Now, somehow, piss would surely become a tool of her further humiliation.
Several people were guided to the stage. At the sides of the wheel, they began pissing into the trough beneath her. The bottom of the trough was covered quickly, and the odor overwhelmed her each time she passed beneath the wheel. They did not piss on her directly, but in a few rotations of the wheel, she saw that the level of the piss was rising. A few more turns, and her nipples began dipping into the piss each time through.
They continued to use her mouth. Now, only the whips touched her cunt--it was no longer clean enough to be worthy. Eventually though, Mei-Ling coaxed a few males into fucking her, with the assurance that the wheel would be stopped so that Pamela herself could clean them with her mouth.
Unfortunately, the piss level in the trough continued to rise. Soon, it bathed all her breasts and lapped at the rest of her body. Only by straining her neck muscles could she avoid dunking her face in the piss.
One man who elected to use her cunt chose to do so with her in the inverted position. To her horror, she discovered that she could no longer hold her head over the level of piss in the trough. By extreme efforts, she could raise her face enough to breathe briefly, but then her strength would fail and her entire head would fall under the piss. To her supreme degradation, she found herself approaching orgasm.
The men continued fucking her, with hard strokes. In just a few minutes, Pamela could not hold off any longer. She began to come herself, screaming loudly in pleasure. As she did so, her strength failed her and her face dropped into the pool of piss beneath her. She continued screaming in orgasm, now with her screams bubbling up at times from beneath the pool. Finally, the man himself shot his load, withdrew, and the wheel, mercifully, resumed its motion.
The whips resumed as well. Now, with Pamela's sexual need sated for the moment, she responded with screams to every stroke. When she passed under the wheel, through the now-full piss trough, she could not raise her head but simply held her breath and tried to keep her mouth closed as she was drawn through the pool once each minute.
Her pleasure, pain and humiliation were irrelevant to those she still had to service. She was, for the moment, a slave.
When she was finally freed, an hour and a half later, she was allowed to shower but not allowed to dress or touch herself. She was placed in a chastity belt and then locked in a cage in the Casino. Mei-Ling came to speak to her briefly.
"I want you aroused because tonight you'll serve me in private, the second of your three ordeals. Your third will take place tomorrow at two PM. You will not be allowed an orgasm before then."
"Oh dear God, I'm so horny now!"
"Not a nice thing to say, cunt. Now, you must be further punished."
Attendants were quickly summoned. A posture collar was placed around her neck; her wrists strapped together and drawn up high on her back towards her collar. She was then fitted with a punishment chastity belt, complete with needlepoint lining and a large butt-plug. Finally, Mei-Ling delivered half a dozen strokes to her ass with a riding crop, placing new welts on the many old ones. Pamela cried in response, knowing herself defeated.
"Now, pig, any more complaints?"
"No, Mistress. Thank you for a most deserved correction."
The cage was a three-foot cube, suspended in the middle of the Casino's main game room. Pamela was locked in at eight PM and remained on display until midnight.
Part of her mind went through some interesting changes during her four hours in the cage. She had envisioned her weekend as a mix of dominant and submissive activities, always including an escape clause. Then, she thought back over her plans. With the tailor, she agreed to wear whatever he provided, no matter how revealing, sight unseen. With Mei-Ling, she was emphatic about "No limits!" Ultimately, she realized--as a dominatrix, any submissive role she played during her usual breaks would be artificial, with the ever-present escape clause her position provided. This was different--it covered all the bases, leaving her with no escape until the weekend was over. Until then, she was effectively Mei-Ling's own slave.
She found the idea turning her on.
Unfortunately, with her flesh imprisoned in the punishment chastity belt, every move she made only pierced her flesh. The belt would not be unlocked unless and until Mei-Ling chose to do so. The butt plug would be a constant reminder of her degradation and vulnerability. And from what Mei-Ling said earlier, she still had two major ordeals to go through in the next twenty-four hours.
Pamela knelt in her cage and suffered.
Mei-Ling returned for her just past midnight. She had done a stint as a prize at the roulette tables and had gone through some major tests involving severe restraint and oral servitude. Now she, in turn, would use Pamela.
Pamela was leashed and made to crawl on her knees behind Mei-Ling, all her restraints in place, a slave to a slave. Not surprisingly, Morgan had provided Mei-Ling with a large suite in the Hotel for tonight's activities. It took a good fifteen minutes to make the long, slow, painful and humiliating crawl toward her own doom.
Finally, they reached the room. At the center of the room was a large object, draped with a cloth curtain. Mei-Ling quickly attached Pamela's collar to a wall-ring, keeping her on her knees, and said, "For your torture tonight. You'll see it when I am ready."
Pamela groaned inwardly. Mei-Ling did say torture, not just service or rape. When she used the word torture, it was safe to assume she meant it.
She waited close to an hour, sweating and aching, her wrists still pulled painfully high behind her to her collar, her chastity belt still burning her flesh with its needlepoints, her butt plug still filling her ass. Mei-Ling, meanwhile, took a long hot bath, even napping briefly in the tub.
The hour passed very slowly for Pamela. Unfortunately, not slowly enough. When Mei-Ling finally returned, dressed in a red satin bathrobe, she simply withdrew the curtain without saying a word.
Pamela could have almost guessed. It was the oriental torture cage, the one Mei-Ling herself designed and even occupied weeks earlier. Now, unfortunately, it would have an unwilling victim.
She was not allowed to rise. Before even being led to the cage, Mei-Ling removed her chastity belt. It was replaced by a similar harness, one which would hold in her butt plug while leaving her pussy exposed. She gasped as the needlepoints left her flesh, and moaned in anticipation as she realized the new harness was also lined with the torturous points. There was the quick initial shock as her flesh was again penetrated, then the same steady burn of pain, accentuated every time her muscles flexed within the harness. The large plug never left her ass, nor would it all night.
Her despair deepened as Mei-Ling produced a matching punishment bra. Now, her tits would also become pincushions. Pamela moaned in genuine pain as it was strapped on, and again each time it was tightened, until Mei-Ling was satisfied her breasts were properly compressed and positioned.
Finally done with the preliminaries, Pamela was shocked as Mei-Ling unlocked her wrist and ankle restraints and removed her collar. She looked at Mei-Ling questioningly as she in turn opened the door to the cage.
"You will crawl willingly to your torture and enter of your own volition. You will not touch your body without permission."
Yes, she understood. Her will must be broken, her resistance must be shattered altogether before her ordeal even began. She obeyed.
The cage door was being held open for her by Mei-Ling. As Pamela's knees first touched the cage floor, made of rough rattan bars as was the rest of the cage, she realized that that alone would be torture. Her knees would be in severe pain in minutes.
Her neck was placed in the neck-stock built within the top of the cage. She realized quickly that the cage was measured for Mei-Ling who was an inch or two taller than Pamela. Her neck would be held that much higher, stretching her body. The door was slammed shut and locked.
Working between the bars now, Mei-Ling re-shackled her wrists behind her. Her ankles were similarly joined. Now, Pamela had no real means left to resist. Still, the real torture had yet to begin.
Mei-Ling lifted her ankles and joined them to her wrist shackles with a padlock. Pamela screamed in response--the tension arched her entire body outward, like a hog-tie. This effectively shortened the critical distance between her throat and knees, causing better than half her weight to be suspended by her jaw-bone. Her knees separated several inches and had only pinpoint contact with the already painful bars below. Now, she was in agony. Rather than enjoy her initial suffering, Mei-Ling turned away briefly, then returned with the means to make the ordeal much worse.
They were the same clamps Mei-Ling herself had worn on her nipples and cuntlips. Crafted around four ounce weights, decorated with oriental designs in metal, the clamps themselves each bore a single point on their surface. When clamped on the nipple they would partially pierce the flesh as well as squeezing it. The second pair, for her cuntlips, bore the same points.
As it was, Pamela was at the limit of her control. With her back severely arched, the punishment bra and butt plug harness, each with their own needlepoints, were digging painfully into her sensitive flesh. Her knees were agonized upon the canework floor of the cage. Her neck suspended the bulk of her weight. The nipple clamps would clearly push her over the edge.
"Oh no, please! I can't take this!"
Mei-Ling frowned at her and put the clamps aside. She returned with her short blacksnake whip. "Is my slave for the night complaining? And are you forgetting the proper forms of address which you yourself have taught slaves these many years?"
"No, M-mistress."
"Beg me properly for punishment!"
Pamela could not conceive of a punishment added to what she was already suffering. Yet, she knew the correct words. Not only did she teach them to Mei-Ling herself, but had had them extracted from her by Morgan regularly for all those years.
"Please Mistress, punish your disrespectful slave for protesting her treatment and for failing to show proper respect for her Mistress." She shut her eyes, unable to bear watching.
It was a vicious cut of the whip, directly on her cunt. As Pamela screamed, the second cut hit in the same spot. She screamed for six strokes as her body sought ways it could not find to ameliorate the pain. She was left drenched in sweat, on a new plateau of suffering.
"Now, slut, beg me properly for the clamps!"
Horrified at the thought, but painfully aware of the penalties for disobedience, she begged, "Please Mistress, put the clamps on my nipples and cuntlips. I'm sure they will look beautiful and cause me some wonderful pain."
The first clamp went to her left nipple. Pamela screamed hard and loud at the partial piercing of the nipple and continued her screams as the second clamp was applied. Already, her every breath caused her agony as the clamps swung in response, their weight dragging her tits down two or three inches. When her cuntlips were similarly clamped, she found even her own screams hurt. She just cried.
With her cuntlips stretched down by the weighted clamps, her inner cunt was open to the air. She started to feel every breeze that blew by her right on her clitoris. It reminded her of how many hours it had been since her last orgasm and how many more it still might be. Suddenly, Mei-Ling held up another clamp, also equipped with the points.
"You are a pathetic little slut, unable to bear even a few minutes of pain. I bore that pain for a full twelve hours! And I haven't even gagged you yet! If your childish whining continues, this clamp will spend the night on your clitoris!"
Petrified at the threat, Pamela practically stopped breathing. She remained motionless, enduring the heavy pain load.
Indeed, Mei-Ling brought out the "Gag". A small strip of bamboo, it was mounted directly in front of her face atop the cage, extending into her mouth. Its end bore several sharp points extending perhaps half an inch above and below the strip, pressing against her tongue and the roof of her mouth.
"Now, cunt--do you have any more complaints?"
"No... arrgh!!!" As she attempted to speak, the bamboo points dug into her tongue, painfully.
Mei-Ling laughed and said, "I thought not. Very good."
Pamela steeled herself for still more abuse, but to her surprise, Mei-Ling walked away. She returned in a moment with a rectangular mirror. It was placed on the floor at an angle so that Pamela could see the reflection of the entire cage. She saw the image of her arched body, the movement of her clamps, their beautifully decorated weights belying the pain they concealed. She saw the straps which held in her butt plug as well as her punishment bra. The leather, as well, concealed her torture, hiding its needlepoints as they burned into her flesh. Her tits protruded obscenely, inviting further punishment. Her cunt gaped wide open, the lips held apart by their clamps. Most dramatic, even after all the punishments her body sustained, was the mass of welts now covering most of her front side. She was sure Mei-Ling would be pleased by the sight and take pleasure from it.
Mei-Ling took a large fur rug and spread it on the floor a few feet in front of the cage. She removed what few clothes she wore and laid down naked on the fur. With a remote control, she turned on the television and began selecting scenes from the Casino.
Pamela was shocked. She was now enduring more pain than she had in years, even at Morgan's own hand. She was suffering it all for Mei-Ling, who now ignored her!
Suddenly, she realized the truth. For the here and now, she herself was the slave; Mei-Ling was the Mistress. Mei-Ling could make any use of her she wished, even go to sleep if she so desired. Pamela was her slave, and must accept any treatment under any circumstances. Many times she herself trained her slaves not to pass judgement on the use to which Masters or Mistresses put them. Their function was only to obey. Now, she must learn her own lessons.
Pamela's whole body ached. She was tight as a bow, most of her weight hung from her jaw and what little weight her knees supported was incessant torture, growing only worse with time. The clamps on her tits and cunt were unlike ordinary clamps, which grew numb over time; these clamps, with their concealed points, were an unending burn.
Even her mouth, which she assumed would serve Mei-Ling's pleasure, was instead tortured by the unique gag which threatened to pierce her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She could not even swallow properly--she would frequently drool down the sides of her face.
To her dismay, Mei-Ling continued ignoring her. She took out a vibrator and, watching the performance on TV, masturbated at her leisure. Pamela watched her, unable to even turn her head away as she suffered, hungering for her body. For well over three hours, she waited in pain as her Mistress took pleasure.
Finally, Mei-Ling rose. She came to Pamela and simply placed the now wet dildo she had used in front of her, practically under her nose. She then put on a slave's sheath dress, sheer and quickly removable, and a set of clogs, and walked out the door.
Why hadn't Mei-Ling used her? She could understand the whips, the public humiliation, even the severe torture she now experienced. But she could not understand why she was not made to service her Mistress.
For over half an hour, she waited, suffering. Suddenly, she noticed the television, still turned on.
The cameras focused in on a scene in the game room where several men were lined up to fuck a slave in quick succession. Pamela watched, not really paying attention, still wondering what Mei-Ling was up to, until she suddenly looked at the screen and understood.
It was Mei-Ling on screen. It was her who was being fucked. It was she who was looking straight at the camera, knowing Pamela was looking back.
Mei-Ling took on seven men. Finished, she vanished from the screen. Ten minutes later, she re-entered the room, dropped her sheath dress in mid-stride and came straight to the cage where Pamela was still being tortured.
She removed the torture-gag and said, "I know what you want, dear. You've wanted to suck off my cunt since we started. But really, you didn't think I'd let you have it clean, did you?"
As she spoke, she took her dildo and ran it in and out of Pamela's mouth, cleaning off her dried juices. She then inserted it briefly into her own cunt and returned it to Pamela's mouth again, now slick with the juice of the men who had just fucked her. She sucked it again, understanding. "Yes, cunt. I had to get it ready for you. Now, you may feast away!"
She sat on top of the cage, straddling Pamela's face. To Pamela's chagrin, this shook the cage slightly, setting the weights swinging again from her clamped nipples and cuntlips, renewing her already unbearable pain.
She could not move her head to either avoid or enhance her use. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue. For long minutes, she tasted little more than the come of the males who had used Mei-Ling, and she felt the humiliation. While being tortured, she was still aroused. But she was getting no pleasure herself; she could only serve the pleasure of others. Worse, she could not even offer her oral services normally but was forced to serve the soiled cunt of the woman torturing her.
With Mei-Ling's cunt so recently used, it took Pamela well over half an hour before she finished cleaning her and bringing her off. Finally Mei-Ling came, soaking Pamela's face in her juice.
She withdrew wordlessly, replaced Pamela's torture gag, laid down on her rug and went to sleep.
Pamela Looked down at her as she felt her own need and continued to suffer in pain. Mei-Ling was beautiful, exotic, lying in the comfort of her rugs.
In the mirror, Pamela saw her own tortured body.
Yes, Mei-Ling had a talent for the use of slaves. Tonight, Pamela feared Mei-Ling even more than Morgan. She cried, softly, for the several hours Mei-Ling napped.
Awakening, Mei-Ling freed her from the cage. The pain of removing the clamps and of moving her tortured body from the clutches of the cage was agonizing but survivable. Never freeing Pamela's wrists, she removed the punishment bra and the butt-plug harness. She brought Pamela to the bedroom and chained her to the foot of the bed by her collar with about three feet of chain. Drawing her to her knees, Mei-Ling spoke once: "Suck me off again, slut!" Pamela obeyed, still frustrated in her own arousal. Now, they would both sleep, Mei-Ling in comfort, Pamela still in chains, unable to pleasure herself, her face bathed in Mei-Ling's juice.
At 9 AM, Mei-Ling awakened her and used her face again. Before freeing Pamela, she placed her in a standard chastity belt, to which Pamela kneeled and cried in frustration, "Please, Mistress, your slave is in need!"
"For once, cunt, you have succeeded in begging in proper form. This once, you'll not be whipped for it. However, it is necessary that you remain aroused--the third and final part of your ordeal begins at 2 PM."
Pamela shuddered--her payback was still not done!
Mei-Ling brought out a box. It was the box containing her third costume, the one which by her own orders would mark her as a slave this last day. She had already resolved to wear each costume in turn, with no additions or changes and no warnings or previews.
She removed all her bonds except her chastity belt.
"Dress, cunt!"
Pamela opened the box and looked inside. She almost knew what she would find.
Inside of the box was a set of wrist and ankle shackles and a slave's collar. They all locked in place, and no key was in the box to remove them. They would be the only covering her body would wear today.
She put on the restraints and remained on her knees.
"Now, slut, leave. You are on your own until 2 PM. Then, you will belong to me one last time."
It was not until the door closed behind her that she realized she had left using perfect slave deportment. She had crossed her wrists behind her back and bent from her knees to kiss Mei-Ling's feet before rising. At the door, she had turned to face Mei-Ling again, knelt and bowed her head to the floor before rising and walking out the door.
On her way down the corridor, she passed a couple of slaves chained outside guest rooms. Both female, one was kneeling, wrists locked behind her, her collar locked directly to an eyebolt in the floor. Her ass was severely welted, and she was crying. Pamela looked down at her own welted body and wondered what the slave's problem was.
The second slave was chained hands high overhead, her toes barely on the floor. As Pamela passed, the slave whined, "Please, can you get someone to free me?" Pamela turned her most effective Mistress stare at her face and said, "Are you protesting your treatment, cunt? Perhaps you'd prefer to hang by your thumbs, an inch higher?"
Petrified, the slave was speechless. She looked down at the body of the apparent slave confronting her, covered with welts.
"Cunt--I am old enough to be your mother, and will not hesitate to bring more pain down on you. Remember, you are a slave and must serve and obey no matter what or be subject to more punishment. Would you prefer to wear whipstrokes like mine as you hang?"
"N-no!"
Inwardly, Pamela was amused. The slave had the audacity to leave off the "Mistress" title. Still, she was aware of herself, naked, welted, in restraints and locked in a chastity belt. There weren't more than a handful of people in the entire Casino who would recognize her as anything other than a house slave, and one under punishment, to boot!
She went to the cafeteria. As usual, there were several slaves doing time in restraint. The breakfast shift was crowded, and there were four slave-faces being used, one by a male, three by females. She ordered a continental breakfast, eating it fast as her arousal grew watching the slaves' forced service.
In the Casino, she tried her hand at a few games. Wanting a distraction from her imprisoned cunt, she thought the cards would occupy her mind. Unfortunately, when she won, she felt awkward wielding a whip while wearing slave's restraints, and with her cunt denied her, no satisfaction was available. Even when she lost, whipstrokes awakened old welts, restraints awakened sore muscles, and oral servitude, the only kind she had available to pay with, awakened her cunt. It wasn't until almost 1 PM that she gave up in frustration.
Noting the clock, she returned to her own quarters, showered, did her hair and retouched her makeup. To her surprise, she found her own wardrobe closet had been locked. Also, the towels allotted to her bath were all small ones, none large enough to cover her body. Even the bed's sheets and blankets had been removed. Indeed, her nudity was being enforced completely, even in her private suite.
She thought about her ordeals: not just the abuse; she had endured that before. It was the giving up of control, completely, that made this special. And giving it up to Mei-Ling, a slave she herself had trained--that made it truly unique. As sore as she was, and exhausted, she was still highly aroused, and even though fearful, she awaited her final ordeal anxiously. Shortly before 2 PM, she walked voluntarily to the auditorium stage.
Mei-Ling awaited her. Pamela entered from the audience side, walking proudly down the aisle, naked and in her chastity belt and restraints. She shuddered at what was awaiting her onstage.
She had expected some restraint even more severe than what she had endured. Perhaps a rack, or a bed of nails, or a "horse" type rail which she would have to ride with her cunt for a few hours. Or maybe some sort of rape scenario, or a stock presenting her for oral servitude. She saw none of this.
Centerstage, she saw a clear plexiglass tank. The size of a coffin, it was fixed with restraints at either end for her wrists and ankles.
Wordlessly, she mounted the stage, knelt before Mei-Ling, crossed her wrists behind her and kissed her feet. She waited in that position.
"I knew you'd be on time, cunt."
Mei-Ling guided Pamela to the tank. She laid down inside it, and her wrists and ankles were locked in place, her ankles about two feet apart, her wrists together. Only then was her chastity belt removed.
Dildos were produced, greased and inserted into her ass and cunt. They were affixed to some sort of lever attachment whose purpose she could not deduce. Pamela started pumping on them immediately, but restrained herself when she discovered that the base of each sported some sharp spikes. Each time she bottomed out on the dildos, she would torture the tissues surrounding her lower holes. Strangely, her mouth was not yet gagged. Still, her arms, stretched tightly above her, partially immobilized her head. A strap was wrapped around her head and arms, firmly clamping them together, completing the job.
The tank had a top. It was rolled into place and bolted down. Pamela was surprised to find herself looking through a three inch wide opening in the top, directly over her face. There was a wide, transparent pipe about a foot high rising from that opening. To her dismay, the pipe ended in a funnel.
Her entire body was visible through the tank. She could be heard readily through the opening in the top. She could also see out and, looking up, saw Mei-Ling's face through the opening.
"You're not worth the energy to beat anymore", Mei-Ling began. "Tying you up in uncomfortable positions is boring. You're losing your novelty. You're not even a good mouth-fuck. So this afternoon, you'll be used in the only way you're worth using."
Mei-Ling, her cunt exposed, squatted over the funnel. She began to piss. Pamela caught the first of the stream in her open mouth, cutting off her intended protest. With her head strapped between her arms, she could not move it, even to spit out the piss. She swallowed, coughed briefly, then sealed her lips from the rest of the stream. Looking to the side with her eyes, she saw a line forming, both men and women. As she moaned in recognition of her humiliation, she noted an echo of her voice coming from the outside. Yes, indeed, her tank concealed a microphone; every sound she made would be broadcast over the auditorium's PA system for all to hear.
Mei-Ling, done pissing, leaned over and spoke briefly. "Slut--if the level of piss gets too high in the tank, start pumping on the dildos. They will drive a small pump and keep the piss from drowning you. I'll be curious to see how many times you can fuck yourself to orgasm while you serve as a communal toilet. Have fun, piss-mouth!"
Pamela started to cry. Yes, she would get the orgasms she had craved for hours, but she would get them while being bathed face-first in piss. And the whole auditorium would hear her come while being pissed on.
The next stream hit her square in the mouth. It was a male, with a good aim and a full bladder. He was followed by others, male and female. The line was active and growing.
Soon, the level of piss in the tank was up to her ears and rising. She realized Mei-Ling's comments about drowning were not idle threats. She started pumping the dildos.
Each stroke was rewarded with the stab of pointed metal projections at the base of each dildo. Still, if Pamela was to avoid drowning, she would have to suffer the pain. Incredibly, she got the pump working.
The piss streams continued almost non-stop. She had to keep pumping the dildos non-stop as well to make any headway against the rising piss-bath. Soon, to her utter humiliation, she approached orgasm. She pumped even harder and soon cried out in pleasure-pain. As she opened her mouth, the piss-stream from the current male using the tank went right into her mouth. She choked, gargling her cries, but swallowed quickly, continuing to pump herself off. Her orgasm was heard by all. She also heard echoes of applause and laughter in response from her audience.
After her orgasm, her hips stopped briefly. But another load of piss, now from a female, reminded her she could afford no breaks. Her pumping resumed, and her orgasms followed every several minutes.
She remained in the tank about four hours. She was totally exhausted at the conclusion and had to be helped to a shower. She was also totally fucked out. Never had she come so often, with or without force, in so short a time. Needless to say, her face and body were bathed in piss the entire time, and the pumps never stopped.
She was cleaned, even re-shackled, her hands behind her back; her collar was restored, with a leash.
Mei-Ling led her back to the stage. One of the cafeteria benches awaited her.
She was strapped down at waist, wrist and ankle.
Mei-Ling stepped to the microphone again, and said, "Enjoy--on the house!"
Her piss ordeal was over. Now, one male began fucking her cunt as a female sat on her face.
For another few hours, ending at midnight, Pamela was truly used, continuously, as a slave.
She enjoyed it, as a slave.
When she was freed at midnight and allowed to again clean and clothe herself, she returned to her quarters and dressed in her usual sleeping attire. She summoned Mei-Ling.
Now, the slave knelt properly before her Mistress.
"I must say, the past two days went far beyond anything I had in mind."
Mei-Ling looked back, not sure whether to thank her or beg for mercy.
"You've shown a level of imaginative sadism unheard of here in years."
Again, Mei-Ling looked back, still afraid and unsure.
"I'll be talking to Master Morgan about you tomorrow!"
Now, Mei-Ling shuddered in fear. "Please Mistress, have mercy!"
Her Mistress laughed, and said, "No need, Mei-Ling. You haven't earned a punishment, but rather a reward. I'm recommending your promotion. My job is difficult at times--I am in need of a chief assistant."
Mei-Ling's eyes brightened--then lowered. "I am unworthy, Mistress."
"Nonsense. Why don't you take a two-day pass yourself and think about it."
"Thank you, Mistress. I will be happy to serve in any way you wish!"
She made her obeisances in perfect form and left.
"Yes," Pamela thought. "We certainly have a tiger by the tail. Let us hope we can use all her talents, even here!"
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Master Ivan Press
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