Devastation Pt. 03

Petra's feet were arched into patented, shiny black stiletto court shoes, the heels, a pencil-thin seven-inches. The fact that the shoes did not have platforms to relieve that heel-height meant that the arch of her feet and the bend of her toes inside the pointed toes of the shoes were maximized. A delicate teetering exercise and yet one that Petra seemed able with ease to perfect, since she was not hobbled anymore. Nor was she in any kind of tortuous distress. Her movements were like an enhanced, strutting 'glide.' Legs forced into akimbo, and careful placing of her feet, due to her extraordinary height. Hips with a natural roll, and breasts with a natural, organic ride and movement underneath the latex blouse.

Those throbs were still there. They were always there. But she absorbed them. Concentrated on them, and to some extent, she was able to manipulate them herself. Petra would be distraught if ever those throbs were taken away from her. Not that they could be. Although she was always aware, after her stay with Sabirah, that those throbs could be used in terrible, terrible ways against her. She was damaged goods. Even she herself knew that, and her deeper base instinct for survival told her, massaged her mind with the knowledge that, she MUST be a Good Girl, an Immaculate girl, for Miss Victoria, must be, at all times.

Petra's hair, pulled high and tight into a ponytail. None of it shielding the striking features of her face. High cheekbones, deliciously pale complexion perfectly made-up. Full, deep-red lips. And yet the stark, flame-red color of her hair creating yet another intense focus for that invisible voyeur yet again.

Invisible under the skirt were the latex pants. These were not bikini thongs but, full-waisted panties. The waistband gripped tightly just below the slightly higher waist of the skirt so it remained invisible. Such a tight, perfect fit were these pants that there was no line visible. Even if the skirt had been skin-tight to hips, bottom, and thighs, no line would have been visible. Also invisible, the re-enforced gusset of the pants. Re-enforced because this gusset housed inbuilt inflatables that were deeply buried inside both of Petra's most private and intimate holes. Such was the depth of these intrusions, and so tight the fit of the pants, a casual lifting of the skirt, and a peek, would not divulge that anything at all was impaling Petra. Only a slightly closer look by someone knowing, a careful examination of Petra's crotch area, would reveal the slight indented circles of the two inflatables inside her. Even the single nipple to which the air-hose would be attached in order to inflate the appendages was cleverly concealed within the natural wrinkles and crevices within the latex crotch. These appendages were another source of Petra's gratitude. She was able to squeeze and twist her musculature around these inflated rubber things in order to give herself little darting, fleeting moments of intense pleasure. She was so, so grateful to Victoria. So very grateful. Oh, she had to, very seriously 'had' to be, a Good Immaculate girl for Miss Victoria. She just had to.

"Yes, Miss Victoria. I do understand, I really do."

Petra just shifting on her heels slightly and a silent gasp as another pinpoint sharp split-second of intense pleasure as she squeezes on those things inside her again. Victoria continuing the shoulder rub and massage with one hand whilst with the other, from behind her, she produces a long, black-velvet box with gold hinges.

"I have something for you, Petra. I don't give these lightly. I very rarely give them at all. I just give them to girls who I think will 'excel' at every task I give. That's another word for you to learn, Petra. Excel. Do you understand?"

Victoria talking, just gently, as she lifts her other hand off Petra's shoulder in order to open the box. Petra's eyes opening wider all the time watching herself and Victoria in the mirror. Scanning herself, the whole vision, and then focusing behind her as Victoria produces the box, and opens it. Huge eyes opening even wider as Victoria reaches up and around her neck to secure a tight, wide latex band. On the front of the band, indented in gold, the words

"VICTORIA'S PET"

Petra taking a deep breath as she deciphers the words' backward reflection in the mirror. An intense feeling of euphoria rushing through her. The feeling of being 'special' to Miss Victoria as the spoken words slide into her psyche. A solitary tear running down an immaculately made-up cheek. The tear riding over tear-proof makeup and her tongue just flicking out and catching it as it tickles the corner of her deep-red mouth on its journey down. The roll of her throat as she swallows the tear. The roll of her throat riding under the tightness of the latex collar that Victoria had placed and secured around her throat.

"I d-don't know what to say, Miss... I truly don't."

A soft, barely audible chuckle from Victoria as she ensures the collar is secured with a 'click' of the tiniest of gold padlocks, making Petra press her lips together, roll them in as the feeling of 'permanence' around her neck sinks in.

"Well, for a start, Petra, you can remember that word. Excel. If you can Excel in everything you do for me, then you remain my pet. I mean, you do want to be my pet, Petra? And you do want to Excel for me... don't you?"

Victoria rearranges Petra's ponytail, stroking her shoulders lightly again as she does.

"Oh y-yes, yes, Miss Victoria, yes, I do. I want to excel... and I want to be your pet."

A wide, gratified smile across Victoria's thin lips. Followed by a light tapping of Petra bottom through the flared, rippled latex skirt.

"Good then... and now you may cum."

It wasn't just a permission to come. It was an instruction for Petra to orgasm, immediately. And she did. Where she stood. Stilettos planted as firmly as they could be, she squeezed the appendages inside her, and in doing so, amplified the throbs to her clitoris. In doing that, her clitoris-tip rubbed and swirled against the inside of her latex panties and in doing that, created an immediate, intense orgasm. Her eyes narrowed, and a low guttural moan poured out of her slightly parted, droopy lips.

"mmmmmmnnnnnnnngggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!..."

It was the same sound all the way through. Only slight changes in facial expressions and wideness of eyes were the telltale signs that an orgasm was rushing through her at breakneck speed and intensity. That, and the grinding of her high-heels into the floor. And, at the peak, the scraping of those same high-heels into the floor as her feet parted, then came back together, then her knees bending ever-so-slightly for her to absorb the orgasm, and then... then that 'one' word,

"STOP!"

Just the solitary, clear-spoken word by Victoria. Loud enough to pierce Petra's intense, euphoric orgasm. Her eyes immediately clearing, as she stopped herself orgasming instantly, that, in itself, an amazing feat of self-control. But one she 'had' to do. She had been trained to cum, and stop, on command. Also, her mind had been conditioned to not cum unless she had been given permission. No permission, or instruction to do so, meant no orgasm. Permission meant immediate, intense orgasm that had to be curtailed instantly on the 'STOP' command.

"Good Girl."

Petra, panting. Cheeks flushed. Lips swollen, as the orgasm subsides and fades inside her.

"T-thank you... Miss Victoria..."

Another wide smile from Victoria as she fades from behind Petra in the mirror.

FOUR - Before It All Began 2,

Petra picked up the invitation envelope. Another invitation to another event. If only she could sell these invitations second hand she would make a fortune. Idly, quite nonchalantly, she thumbed open the invite and read it.

"DR. SABIRAH NAJWA

INVITES THE EXECUTIVE SECRETARY OF THE CEO

TO A VERY SPECIAL FUND-RAISER"

Blah blah blah. Petra had heard that name. Dr. Sabirah Najwa. Some kind of psychologist, or 'head doctor.' Or something like that. And by all accounts, a lesbian. Petra liked that - a girl's girl. She liked that name, Sabirah. Obviously middle eastern. Arabic. The invitation was quality. It oozed quality. One of the few Petra would accept. Why not? She hadn't been on free night-out for ages and ages. She smiled to herself. Making a few definite decisions as she did so. She would flirt outrageously with this Dr. Sabirah Najwa. She hadn't flirted with another girl for such a long time. Although she wasn't lesbian, as far as she knew, she did get a bit of a buzz out of getting other women's attentions. Petra could do that... get the attention of women, and men alike. She radiated something like an air of 'adventure.' Just something about her that gained and held attentions. An edge. A daring, and all emphasized in her personality, and her appearance. When Petra flirted, it didn't go unnoticed. She placed the RSVP to the invite into the envelope and ran her wet tongue-tip across the flap before sealing it and placing it into the internal mail envelope. That envelope would be en-route to Dr. Sabirah Najwa within the hour.

In the week between sending off the RSVP and the event itself, Petra made it a mission, to set out to impress the good doctor. Everything, from choosing her outfit for effect, to getting into that 'flirt zone,' Petra had covered all angles. The day of the event came, and that 'zone' was entered by Petra. I repeat, when Petra flirted, it didn't go unnoticed. This particular flirt session would mark the beginning of the change of Petra's life forever.

SIX - Sabirah & Stefani

The almost light mewling that was dripping from Stefani's lips quite belied the discomfort she MUST have been in. Her newly decorated breasts were hanging under her as she knelt with her legs parted as wide as they would physically go and secured rigid. She was then bent forward over a padded bar which pressed back into her lower abdomen and pelvis so that her bottom was thrust back.

She still wore the pseudo-school uniform but her breasts remained scooped out and they literally 'swung' under her. Even still in the stage of growing, they had a pendulous-like swing to them. Normally that swing, and their weight, would have fed the throbs to her distended engorged nipples and this in turn would have been the control for the tap that was her sexual discharge between her legs. Actually, that was still very much the case. But with the added sensation of the pain of the piercings that Sabirah had lovingly applied, that throb, the throb that remained in the base of her nipples and fed, via that invisible string, to her clitoris, was also a constant source of pain for Stefani. One that confused her senses. The throbs equalled pleasure. The pain fed that pleasure. Perhaps it was the confusion that was the cause of the mewling, as opposed to the pain. Who knows?

"OOHHHHH OHHHHH OHHHHHH OHHHHHHH OHHHHHH."

The pain amplified the throbs. That much was sure. But why did she then still have the desire to orgasm so much? The pain in her pendulous, swinging breasts was awful. And yet the throbs seemed so much more intense. It made the leak of her discharge so much thicker. So much more slippery. Even as her arms were then brought up behind her, again secured at the wrist and touching at the elbows, then hoisted high to keep them out of the way, she screamed. Oh yes, she screamed the place down, as that initial pain in her shoulders and elbows had been absorbed by the rest of her teenage self.

'EEEEEGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAARRRRGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"

It had been a long time since any decipherable words had slipped from between her gorgeously full, smooth red lips. Sabirah did sometimes miss the signs of early dissent that Stefani had shown. The rebellion. The disbelief that she could be treated in this evil, despicable way. Ah well, just a slight, a very slight, downside to what she did to her victims, that the fight and will to rebel against what was happening to them was soon, very soon, ripped from them. Stefani was already like a girl regressed. Withdrawn, and in mental turmoil.

The point of this particular position of bondage was simple. To make available and expose fully, the distended anal ring for the extended attentions of the latexed gloved hands of Dr. Sabirah Najwa. Sabirah hadn't rushed the application of the bondage. Quite the contrary. She had observed from her control room as two assistants had very slowly and very meticulously immobilized the young girl, enjoying very much the various angles and visions presented as the platform on which she was placed was turned, and tilted, and raised, and lowered, in order to make the application of the bondage much, much easier. The final touch were the arms pulled back and up. Oh, that scream had sent little tingles of pleasure into the base of Sabirah's own clitoris.

'EEEEEEGGGHHHHHHHHAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMGGGGHHHHH!"

There was something about that less mature scream that Sabirah liked very much. She had liked it earlier when Stefani had cried and screamed for her mother. She didn't do that any more. Another sad fact, since Sabirah had liked that very much too. But what could not be taken away was the almost adolescent tone at core of the scream. The pure tone of it. A tone of naivety, yes. But also a tone of disbelief that another, older woman could be making her suffer so much. That scream, the one that had erupted when her arms had been so bondaged, was still pouring into the confines of this room even as "The School Bully" re-entered.

"Sssshhhhh sssshhhhhhhhhh, just try to relax... ssssshhhhhhh."

Sabirah very rarely used Stefani's name. It was another psychological slant. A detachment and adding to the known result of the teenager feeling as though she had been abandoned in this place. This hellhole. Eventually that scream did subside and morph into that almost 'soft' mewling. And so, yes, the soft almost cooing mewling that did drip from Stefani's mouth seemed quite out of place here.

Sabirah played with that mewling a little as she ran a gloved finger around the raised, distended anal ring. Just lightly. Very lightly, and yet such was the hyper-sensitized nature of the extended ring, even the lightest touch caused the mewl to turn into a moan, and for the organic hole that was her bottom to dilate, push out and then suck back in. And beneath her, a little pool of swirling juices collected.

"Hmmmm well, as delicious as your 'ring' looks, it does need some decoration also, girl. Don't you think? A little adornment? Some enhancement? Hmmmmmmm? After all, you are becoming something of a showpiece. I may decide to 'show' you to selected audiences. Wouldn't you like that? Hmmmmm?"

Sabirah's tone was neutral and the string of questions, all rhetorical. On first contact, one could think that this woman had lost her marbles. Well, in a way she had, of course. But no, her madness wasn't in the shape of losing her mind at all. She remained in full control of her faculties. Her little conversations, apparently with herself and in the form of rhetorical questions to her victims, were simply yet another means by which she could inflict the most serious of psychological distress. Letting the victim know, subtly, what was about to happen to her. What was going to happen to her in the immediate future. When put in the form of a question, it gave a little chink of hope, a little chink of light to Stefani, that she could maybe disagree, reason with Sabirah, and be spared that particular torture. Except that she couldn't disagree, or argue her case. Her own mind had been so far retarded that reasoning, or even the ability to 'beg,' was not there anymore. It was just an 'acceptance' that existed there now. Even if, from the dimming grayness of her mind, a little spark of a memory of how she should reason and argue, came back to her, all that would emit from her mouth was a dribbling drool. Another mewling sound accompanied by the overflow of drool. Nothing comprehensible. Her sanity remaining, JUST. She just about held onto a sanity that allowed her full knowledge, full feeling, full emotions that came with everything that was happening to her.

The piercings to Stefani's anal ring would be identical to those applied to her breasts. Identical in that, yes the flesh would be pierced. But unlike piercings to say, the ears, nose, or navel areas in the normal, outside world, there would be no 'exit' of the piercing. Long, thin, tapered studs were used that pierced and embedded themselves deeply in the flesh. The end of the studs were slightly shaped so that they could not slip or pull back on themselves in order to slip out. Thus the piercing remained permanent and part of the organ to which they were attached.

Sabirah played idly with the pushing, pulling, sucking ring before beginning the application of the studs via her stud-gun. She quite enjoyed the intimate, and minute attention to the girl's ring. Never forgetting that the ring, since its manipulation via her laser system, was also, and actually, an extension of her sexuality. An added sexual organ. An added piece of very intimate, very sensitive girl-flesh that she could use in order to manipulate Stefani's mind and body just a little more. Sabirah enjoyed tickling, and pressing, and rubbing, the ring a little in order to get the different little tones from the girl's delicious mouth. And that organic movement. The pushing out, the dilation and the sucking sounds the anus produced hungrily. Mmmmmmm, yes, she loved the little nuances of this girl. Even the aroma of pure sex that emanated from the girl's sexuality. So true to say that Stefani had brought a new meaning to Sabirah's sadism. Not diminishing it at all. Rather the contrary. Bringing it home like a freight train. Having mother and daughter exactly where and how she wanted them fed an even deeper sadism inside her.

There would be two 'rings' of studs applied to Stefani's anal ring. One around the circumference of the very crown of the ring. The highest point of the ring. The ring of studs applied perfectly. Each stud piercing deep into the already sensitized, cajoled flesh. This ring of studs would be white gold. The second ring of studs applied around the outside of the base of the ring with the studs angled slightly so that the very tips of the buried stems of the long, tapered studs almost, but not quite, exited the flesh inside the rectal tunnel. This ring of studs yellow gold. The pain when these studs were applied was magnified inside the rectal tunnel as her bottom dilated and pushed.

Before Sabirah could begin the piercing process though, she had to use a special instrument to ensure full and total exposure of the anal ring. The instrument, in the shape of a tube with a slightly inflatable end, was inserted into Stefani's bottom. Not deeply, but just past the sphincter. Sabirah knew when the sphincter had been passed because Stefani's lips would blow out, and she would momentarily hold her breath as the sphincter was passed by the slightly wider, shaped end of the tube, and then snapped back closed over the narrower neck. She could then inflate the end. The inflation controlled with a little rubber hand-bulb at the other end of the tube. The inflated area itself was just around the end of the circumference of the tube, just enough to enable it to be tugged backward, as though trying to pull it out of the hungry anus of the young girl. It was the inflation itself that prevented the tube being pulled back out past the sphincter. Rather it pulled against the inside edge of the sphincter, and then a further tug brought out the ring, quite grotesquely. Fully and completely exposed, and easily worked on. The tube remained hanging from her bottom as Sabirah worked.

"AAAAAAAAEEEEEEEOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW..."