Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories


by Alcatraz

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© Copyright 2019 - Alcatraz - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/f; D/s; latex; corset; stockings; boots; collar; hood; padlocks; dungeon; game; nipple; weights; torment; M/f; sex; used; F/f; abandon; outdoors; bond; stuck; M+/f; discovery; breast; threat; rescue; cons/nc; X

story continued from part five

Part 6: The Birthday Treat

We drove for a while, my disorientation rendering time and distance as mere abstract concepts. Eventually the smooth road noise changed to a gravelly crunch for a while before the car drew to a stop.

It was raining even heavier, quite torrential. I felt the heavy drops hitting my rubber shell as if I were stood beneath a particularly powerful shower.

Unseen hands helped me from the vehicle and guided me up more steps and then through a door. Instantly the environment felt warmer, there was the faint aroma of delicious food.

"Anya, Melanie welcome!" came a woman's cheery voice. Whoever she was, she was English, and very well spoken.

"Rhea, so wonderful to see you again, happy birthday!". There was the sound of expressive cheek kissing.

"Melanie, please go to the kitchen, they are waiting for you"

"Yes Miss Rhea". The sound of heels on wooden floor faded into the distance.

"So .... Who is this you have brought to see us?"

The tape over my eyes was removed. Rhea was staring at me, squinting, trying to peer through my eye holes. She was shorter than Anya, wearing latex leggings and a white cotton poet blouse. Frills edged the plunging neckline, exposing her ample cleavage. She would have been even shorter if it were not for her considerable heels, easily 5 inches high. Her blonde hair was bobbed to her shoulders, framing her naturally beautiful face, the dark red lipstick contrasted boldly against her milky fair complexion.

"It has no name. It is simply entertainment for the evening, a birthday treat from me"

"Oh how sweet of you. I'm sure we will think of fun to have with it. She - sorry, 'it' - looks rather damp though, we'll put it near the fire to dry"

Miss Rhea certainly did not fit my mental image of a Mistress. Anya was the only reference I had, and in all respects Rhea was very different. Rhea seemed open where Anya was a closed book. Rhea was dressed quite casually where Anya always wore clothes intended to reinforce her superiority. Rhea's smile lit up her face where Anya's steely expression revealed nothing of her inner feelings.

On first impressions I presumed Rhea to be a softer, more playful Mistress. My supposition was quite misguided as I would soon learn.

They led me from the hallway into a large reception room. The decor was quite ostentatious. Two large plush sofas upholstered in a deep red fabric stood at opposite sides of a large, elaborately patterned rug. Matching curtains were drawn against the night. A chandelier hung from an Artexed ceiling. It was not lit, the only light in the room was provided by an open fire which raged in an impressive stone fireplace. They sat me on a simple wooden chair in front of the flames and, using chains, secured my ankles to the chair legs and mittened wrists to the arms of the chair.

While the suit dried on the outside I became considerably moister on the inside, the heat of the fire causing me to perspire.

The Mistresses left the room talking like old friends.

I listened to the sounds of dinner coming from another room. The voices were too subtle to make out any words clearly, but the conversation appeared jolly with plenty of jovial laughing. I constructed a mental image of the dinner from the sounds and smells; metal cutlery against porcelain, decanted drink, clinking glasses, stacking plates and finally chairs sliding from the table and heels click-clacking.


After some time Anya and Rhea returned to me. Rhea had changed clothing and now wore a stunning full length white latex dress. It was reminiscent the dresses worn by Greek goddesses. The dress was supported by a single shoulder strap and held her torso tightly. Two slits in the dress from her thighs to ankles exposed toned creamy legs. Around her waist she wore a belt made of large interlocked golden metal rings. Her high heels were in a matching golden colour. She looked breathtaking, with a face that was soft and disarming.

Once released from the chair the three of us headed down some steps to what appeared to be a basement, my thighs were shaking with fatigue by the time we reached bottom. Before us was a heavy wooden door adorned with chunky iron hinges. It looked very old, but was probably modern and designed to appear rustic. Rhea unlocked the door with an iron key, and pushed it open with some effort, clearly the door was as substantial as it looked. It closed with an ominously thunderous thud once we had entered.

The room for all intents and purposes looked as if it had come out of an ancient Greek textbook. The walls appeared to be constructed with large heavy blocks, and thick stone pillars lined the walls. Intricate stone and ebony statues in an ancient Greek style guarded the four corners of the room. Authentic looking flaming torches were placed between the pillars creating a surprisingly bright glow, yet keeping the extremities of the room in an inky blackness.

At one end of the rectangular room was a door. At the opposite end of the room were two throne-like wooden chairs, draped in multi-coloured fabrics. Behind each throne was a large wooden chest, again decorated ornately with scenes of mythology.

"Magnificent!" said Anya.

"Thank you. It took a lot of time, and a lot of money to get it to this state. I still have more plans for the place, but these things take time"

"Indeed. So what is it about Greek mythology that interests you so?"

"Everything" she beamed. "The architecture, the romance, the legend, the monsters, the heroes. And then I like to add a modern twist, for example .. my latex gown!". Miss Rhea did a twirl, the panels of her gown floating elegantly. She smiled and curtsied.

"Quite enchanting Rhea."

"So, what shall we do with 'it', Anya?"

"Your birthday, your treat, you choose"

"May I see it's eyes?"

Anya unlocked the padlocks round my jaw and peeled the neck pieces. The thick collar was unlocked and removed shortly followed by outer hood. It felt wonderful to have clear vision once more.

"Beautiful eyes. So large and expressive. How long have you owned her?"

"She is not mine yet .. Not officially anyway. When she has proven herself worthy of my protection I will take her."

"Not taken yet? Interesting. And yet she willingly allows you to keep her like this? A treasure for sure, Anya, I may have to steal her away from you!" Rhea laughed.

"I hope she will be mine very soon, and become the slave she is destined to become"

Wait. Anya just said "hope". That was the first time I had heard her express a wish of me. Since meeting her, it had always been demands and expectations, but for a moment I sensed I still had some power. Anya could physically take me in an instant, of that I was sure, but "hope" implied a need ... a hint of human in the machine.

Rhea unlocked and removed the gag from my mouth, along with a pool of drool.

"Thank you" I whispered, my jaw aching as I exercised it.

"Oh it speaks?"

Distracted with nursing feeling back into my jaw, I did not see Rhea's hand before it slapped me hard across the face. My semi numb skin burned and tingled.

"Silence! Careful, or you may lose your tongue like Philomela"

I looked at Anya in shock, tears forming in my eyes. Was she going to let Rhea treat me like that? Birthday treat or not, I did not appreciate being abused by a complete stranger, and threatened with mutilation. Anya remained indifferent.

Rhea had shocked me, my first impressions of her as a playful Domme had been shattered.

"It has a lot to learn. But if she wants to make a noise, let's indulge it" said Rhea.

The women whispered together and laughed. "Time for some fun" chirped Rhea.

Rhea clapped her hands and Melanie and another girl I had not seen before entered the room. They were also dressed in brown latex Greek dresses. These were much more plain than Rhea's but were fitted perfectly.

Melanie stood a little behind Anya while the other girl, Hestia as Rhea referred to her, placed a metal pole vertically into a hole in a slightly raised platform on the floor in front of the two thrones.

The zips on my skirt were undone and I was forced to kneel with my back to the pole. My arms were pulled behind my back and wrists secured together with a strap behind the pole. Thicker belts were added above and below my breasts, at my waist and hips and buckled tight behind the pole, securing me to it.

Next my shins were pulled tight to my thighs and fused together with the addition of another couple of belts, again pulled very tight.

Anya unzipped the fastenings covering my breasts and eased them from their rubbery cover.

"Oh yes, just perfect. New piercings?" asked Rhea.

"Yes, will your game still be possible?"

Rhea inspected my breasts, her fingers felt wonderfully cool and my nips hardened in response. "Mmm, yes indeed" she smiled almost hungrily.

Hestia wrapped a small belt around the base of each of my breasts and buckled them snugly. My boobs turned a pink colour and engorged a little, becoming firmer and fuller than they had before. They also began to ache a little with the pressure.

A small golden dish was attached to each of my nipples with a serrated clamp, just behind my piercings. My tits looked like macabre scales.

I hissed and whimpered as the clamps bit into my sensitive skin.

"Ha ha, we've not even begun yet" smiled Rhea smiled.

"So, here are the rules" she continued. "Your Mistress and I will play a game of cards. The loser of the hand must add a weight to the pan clamped to one of your breasts. Your right breast is Mistress Anya's. Your left is mine. The game will continue for ten hands or until one of the pans is so heavy that it is pulled clean off your nipple. Whoever owns the pan ... loses!"

Rheas spoke so calmly as she described the game as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The game sounded horribly painful. "Please don't hurt me" I pleaded.

Anya frowned at my words. "Shall we gag her again?"

"No. I want to hear her scream. I want her eyes to show me her torment. The walls are thick, no one will hear. Let's begin."

Rhea dealt each of them a hand of cards, and they began to play their game. I could not ascertain what the game was, but after a couple of minutes Anya smirked and laid down her cards. "I win!"

Miss Rhea picked up a small golden disc from a stone bowl between the two thrones and placed it in the dish clamped to my left boob. Immediately the discomfort increased as the weight pulled down on my nipple. I moaned, which seemed to please Rhea, even though she had lost the hand. She clearly relished the pain.

Another hand. This time Rhea won and Anya added a disc to my right breast pan. I gritted my teeth.

Miss Anya won the next two hands and the weight on my left breast was clearly pulling it down. I wailed out loud, the pain excruciating.

By the time ten hands were played I had five discs in each pan. My nipples were being pulled relentlessly from my body, stretched to their limit. I was screaming loudly as I prayed for the weights to be removed, my body shaking with the stress making the dishes swing to and fro further torturing my nipples.

Tears were rolling down my rubber cheeks.

"Ahhh there we are" purred Rhea, taking a tear on to her finger and licking it with her tongue. “Your eyes are even more beautiful when they show me such suffering."

Rhea was looking me directly in the eyes. Her face was so close to mine I could smell garlic from her dinner. She never blinked and remained almost transfixed as she kept me in her fascinated trance cocking her head is if she were looking deeper and deeper into my soul.

She suddenly snapped out of her trance as if given smelling salts "Tie breaker!" she announced loudly. Thank God, I wanted the torture to end so badly.

The Dommes took a handful of the discs each and stood next to "their" breast. Hestia took a position at the side of Anya's breast and Melanie at Rhea's. I stared at each of them through wide, fearful eyes.

"Your Mistress and I will continue taking turns to add discs to the dishes. After we place, the slave girls will flick the breast with a cane to encourage the dish to drop". Rhea was smiling evilly now ... it did not suit her porcelain face.

"Do not fail me slave!" threatened Anya.

Anya added a weight. "Eeeeeeh!" I wailed. CRACK, Hestia struck my swollen right tit with the little cane "Ahhhhh!" I screamed.

Rhea added a weight. "Eeeowww!" I pleaded. Crack, Melanie caned my left tit. "Aaaaagh!"

Anya added a further weight. It felt like my nipple was going to be pulled clean off. CRACK, the fire in my flesh burned hotter. I bucked in response to the pain and I felt the pan slip from my nipple and crash loudly to the stone floor.

"Buckaroo!" celebrated Miss Rhea.

"Well done" congratulated Miss Anya thinly. She was giving me a disappointed glare ... I knew I would pay later for failing her.

The dish was removed from my other nipple, and the straps released which were holding me to the pole. I cried, foetal on the floor carefully dabbing the welts on my breasts with my mittened hands.

"May I play with it a little longer?" Rhea asked Anya.

"Do what you want with it, my dear, she deserves no mercy from me" huffed Anya.

The Mistresses sat in the thrones, Melanie poured each a glass of red wine.

Rhea beckoned to her handmaiden and whispered in her ear. Hestia and Mel removed the pole and roughly ushered me into a new position on all fours. My wrists and ankles were anchored to rings in the floor and a T-bar was placed into a hole in the floor which then rested on my hip bones, holding me in position.

A feeling of dread was in the pit of my stomach.

With a clap of Rhea's hands, the handmaiden then approached one of the statues which was shrouded in an inky corner of the room. It was a statue of the Minotaur and to my surprise she clipped a leash onto it's collar and as she gently pulled, the statue moved! It was not a statue at all, but a hulk of a man dressed as the mythical beast.

He was huge, like a bodybuilder, black and imposing. He wore an ancient Greek knee length cloth skirt, and around his torso he wore a thick heavy leather harness. His wrists were wrapped in matching heavy iron cuffs with a weighty two foot long chain holding his arms in front of his body. Greek style sandals adorned his feet with latticed straps up to his knees. A bulls-head style helmet covered his head. It too was fashioned from leather, with two large sharp horns. The sight of the bull-man, and my precarious position filled me with trepidation.

He looked incredibly strong and fearsome, his exaggerated musculature rippling as it captured shadows in the glare of the flickering candles. But for all his might, he was being led obediently by the demure handmaiden, like a formerly wild beast which had been broken and domesticated.

As the Minotaur approached so his bulk seemed to increase. He knelt on one knee in front of Rhea and bowed his head in respect ... or was it deference.

"My Minotaur, Aegeus has sent another of Athens' best for you to feast upon."

The beast turned his head towards me, and stared. Things were getting more bizarre by the minute.

I remembered from school that the Minotaur was the monstrous offspring of Pasiphae and the snow-white bull, but Miss Rhea had clearly constructed her own fantasy from the legends, however inaccurate it may have been.

"Feast Minotaur."

The handmaiden undid the Minotaur's skirt and it fell to the floor, revealing his penis, secured in a metal cock-cage. The bars of the cage were thick and a padlock held it shut. Even stuffed in the chastity, I could tell he was huge. I shook my head, looking first at Miss Rhea and then Miss Anya. The handmaiden unlocked and withdrew the cage and his cock unfurled like a carpet. Even flaccid he was big and thick.


Almost instantly his member engorged and grew. How did Rhea exert such control over the guy's cock, to be able to make him erect at her command. I thought it would never stop growing, until eventually it rivalled the obscene dildos found in Surrender. Thick, black and veined I felt myself moistening in anticipation. Hestia rolled a condom down it's length, and at the moment I knew my fate.

Mel removed the leather cover and unzipped the rubber panel from my pussy. I could tell I was very, very wet.

Minotaur positioned himself behind me, and in an act of humiliation slapped his hot rod against my ass cheeks. It was surprisingly weighty and filled me with dread.

I felt his tip at my pussy entrance, and as he pressed forwards I was stretched wider than I ever thought possible. The impaling was slow and deliberate, it felt like there was no end to the length. At the point I felt like his cock was going to push right through my body I felt his hot pelvis rest against my ass.

He filled me like nothing I can describe. Even though I was pained and broken from the game, I was as horny as hell.

The scene was grotesque, a man-bull fucking a bound rubber damsel from behind. Having started slowly he was soon pounding me hard, his hips butting hard into my ass cheeks, the T-bar dug in painfully as his weight banged me roughly into it.

I was screaming on each thrust. At first it had been in pain, but developed into lust.

"Fuck yes!" I yelled "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me !"

The two Dommes exchanged knowing glances.

Minotaur was only too happy to oblige, picking up pace and brutality. I don't know how many times I orgasmed before he was finished, my mind had given up long before. I was left a gibbering, drooling, aching, satiated wreck.

While Hestia re-fitted his cock cage and led him back to his corner Mel replaced the rubber panel with the teasing fingers and the leather cover locking away my throbbing pussy once again. My aching breasts were zipped back inside the rubber dress and the gag, outer hood, collar and neck pieces were all locked back onto me. Snap, snap, snap .... My arms were locked behind me once more, forearms parallel to each other and my skirt was zipped shut down to the hem.

The party had come to an end. Anya and Rhea said their goodbyes and before we left the house tape was added to cover my eyes once more.



I struggled to stay awake during the journey from Rhea's home. My mind and body too fatigued to function properly. My feet had become numb from the unrelenting en-pointe position they had been forced into by the boots for the last few hours. It was a welcome change to the cramping but I knew the discomfort which would come once they were removed would be hellish.

My arms too had become numb once more from being held in their position for such time, and then crushed behind me as the seatbelt pulled me firmly back into the car seat. My hands also had lost feeling, and even though I was now longing to be free of the bondage I knew the inevitable pins and needles from the restored blood flow would be horrible.

Eventually the car pulled to a halt and my heart lifted at the prospect of release from my rubber enclosure. I was helped from the car and supported as I was walked, still blinded by the tape. My knees were wobbling and I struggled to hold my own weight. If the boots had not been so supportive I was sure my ankles would have buckled completely. With support under each of my armpits we made slow progress.

We must have been outside because I could feel a slight chill, even through my hot and sweaty rubber attire. To my surprise we did not enter another door. Instead I was laid down on my back on a hard floor; now I really did feel the chill as the warmth was drawn from me by the concrete.

I had no strength left to resist as my wrists were unlocked from behind me and then immediately my left wrist was re-locked to my collar, causing my shoulder to ache after having become stiff from lack of movement.

The mitt was removed from my limp, but free, right hand. Something was placed into my palm and then my fingers were folded closed.

"In your hand I have placed the key to your locks. You failed this evening, losing the game for me. I am not accustomed to losing, anything! Your forfeit is to free yourself from your bondage unaided. I would not take long if I were you, who knows what would happen if you were discovered like this. You may be lucky and get discovered by a kindly, helpful person. Or maybe you get discovered by the police and thrown in the cells with the other sluts. Or maybe you get found by the wrong sort and suffer an even worse fate. "

"Get yourself free and quickly and you may just get our of this unscathed. You will send me a text and tell me what happened, if you are able. Understand?"

I half nodded as best I could in the collar. I was fearful about where I was being abandoned. Was it somewhere public or concealed? Safe or vulnerable? What sort of people would be in the area? I tried to vocalise the questions but the gag merely passed muffled sounds.

"Goodnight". I heard the faint sound of heels receding into the distance. The thud of car doors being closed and the sound of the engine as they drove away.

The realisation suddenly hit me that they had actually dumped me somewhere. At that moment I hated Anya for leaving me in such a dangerous predicament. If this was how she treated one of her slaves then I wanted none of it. She was my protector, and I felt betrayed.

What would someone do if they discovered me like that? As Anya had taunted, they may be good folks who would help me, as embarrassing as that would be. The alternative's filled me with fear. The prospect of a police record or even a conviction. Or a fate even worse. The gears of my mind were working through the possible outcomes of the situation, and none of them were good!

My only chance was to get myself free. Feeling had started to return to my free arm, and the discomfort of pins and needles had begun. I exercised my fingers, encouraging the blood flow to return, careful not to drop the key. I tried to think back to the dressing room and the order and location of all the locks. It would take me some time to free myself ....


Serge carefully exited The Lair by the back door and stood fully obscured by the heavy shadows cast down the small alleyway. From his vantage point he could clearly see the girl laid prone on her back, barely moving on the cold hard ground. He was not into the fetish stuff, but he had to admit she looked bizarrely stunning enclosed and locked in all her heavy rubber and leather. There was a bulge in his trousers.

He lit a cigarette, took a long draw and pulled his coat collar up as it began to rain again. The droplets made pit-pat noises as they bounced and ran off her clothing as if she had been polished in Turtle Wax.

His large hand played with keys in his jacket pocket ... While the girl had been with Anya that day he had searched her purse which was still in the changing room and taken imprints of the small ring of keys he found within. Once copies had been cut from the imprints he had used them to gain access to her flat building. He had dressed as a gas engineer, complete with authentic looking ID card. Before he had chance to enter Dani's flat he had been surprised and challenged by her neighbour, an elderly lady, who opened her front door as he reached the top floor.

"Can I help you young man?" she had asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Your landlord has asked us the check the gas. Someone reported a smell. We don't think there is a problem, but we are checking each flat just in case"

"Oh goodness. Miss Nystrom is not at home, dear, but you can check mine?"

Serge was used to improvising, nothing went completely to plan. Usually in such buildings the flats tended to be laid out exactly the same. By looking round the old lady's flat he would be able to complete his business in Danielle's much quicker. He agreed, and once the old lady was happy with his credentials he had her show him the meter location.

He carried out his charade and drank the cup of tea the old dear insisted he have before leaving. He then accessed Dani's flat using his counterfeit key and got to work.

Serge located the girl's laptop and using special software on a USB stick he installed key loggers and trojans. These would capture her usage of the PC and send all the information to an IP address where it could be deciphered. He didn't care how the magic happened, his job was to get the nasty little programs onto the victim's machine.

A search of the flat unearthed useful documentation including passport and birth certificate which he photographed. A rummage through her bedroom furniture revealed an impressive collection of latex and leather garments and also sex toys and bondage equipment.

There was nothing of interest in the spare bedroom except for a battered mirror and empty trunk. For some reason that room gave him the creeps.

He had left the building without meeting another soul. Another successful mission, he was confident that Anya would pay handsomely for his time and information.

The girl was moving a little more now, and he could make out faint moans. Her free arm was feeling round her body, but the movement still appeared laboured. He wondered why such a beautiful young woman would be into such an extreme fetish life. She could have any normal guy she chose. He shrugged, drawing the last of the usable burn from his cigarette and discarded it on the ground.

Although the alley was relatively short, the girl was obscured from view having been left to the side of a large bin belonging to the club. She should be safe enough while she released herself, but Anya had insisted that he keep a watchful eye. Anya loved to play her psychological games. The girl would be going through mental torture wondering where she was, and if she was in danger. He had seen Anya play head games with subs many times, but this was extreme even for her.

Serge froze and cocked his head as he heard faint voices. Two figures appeared at the end of the alley. He receded further into the shadows.

One of the figures pointed towards the large bin and they slowly stumbled along the alley towards it. They sounded drunk or high, and one of them held a half drained spirit bottle in one of his hands. As they got closer Serge could see they were unkempt and dressed in clothes which had seen better days. They had not shaved for some time. He could see their pupils were wide and dilated, eye movements were rapid. Probably Meth heads, this could get messy.

The men reached the large bin and flipped the lid open.

"Anything?" asked one

The second man, who had climbed up the side and was now bent over, head-down rifling through the contents replied "Some snap in here. Some bottles of beer too."

Serge could see that the girl had frozen, evidently she had heard the voices too and was trying not to draw attention to herself. He could see her chest rising and falling quite quickly ... he wondered if she was cold or frightened. He considered another possibility - that she was excited. Given her fetish tendencies, she may actually be getting off on the danger. Impossible to tell from the outside.

"Hey! Come looks at this!"

The skip buzzard fell away from the bin, landing on his ass, smashing the bottle he was carrying. "Fuck! Mack, you scared the shit outta me. What ya do that for ya prick!"

"Sev, come here, what the fuck is this?"

Serge made a mental note of their names. If there was to be a confrontation with them, it would be easier to defuse if he could use their names in the negotiation.

The two men knelt next to the girl, mouths agape.

"Is she alive?"

Mack placed a dirty, trembling hand on the girl's chest.

She immediately made a series of muffled screams and managed to move her head from side to side a little. The two men fell backwards in surprise as if that had received an electric shock. They laughed "Yup, she's alive alright. What do you suppose she is doing here? Part of the garbage?"

With more confidence the men ran their hands over the girl's body, feeling the rubber and testing the locks.

Mack found the zippers covering her breasts and undid them. "Holy fuck" he gasped as her plump breast flesh burst forth from their rubbery prison. The girl continued to moan deliriously, sufficient feeling had returned to her arm to lash out catching Mack full in the face.

"Bitch!" he growled and pulled at her nipple rings eliciting muffled noises which were clearly more pained than protesting.

She weakly swung at him again but he just brushed her arm away and continued to grab and squish her breasts like a virgin touching tits for the first time, eventually pulling the plump rack through the zipped openings. He hooted as he marvelled at them resting atop her chest, the serrated zippered openings gently squeezing their base causing them to swell a little.

Sev had found and undone the zips to her skirt revealing her boots and nylon thighs. "Damn she's hot. What we gonna do?"

"She don't know us, right. She can't see us. Hell, she can't even talk. She's out with the trash. I say we have some fun!"

Serge watched the scene with growing concern. The man called Mack was beginning to drool. Druggies were the worst; irrational and dangerous. He remained in the shadows. Anya wanted the girl to learn a lesson, but he would not let it go too far.

"I dunno Mack, this ain't right man"

"You gonna pass up pussy on a plate? What are ya, a faggot? Look at her ... she's been left here to be taken, like Halloween candy!"

A glob of Mack's drool dripped from his slack jaw onto Dani's breast and snaked a viscous path down her impressive mound. He leaned down and licked at her erect nipple, drooling some more. Dani swung her fist again and hit Mack with little power. "Fucking bitch, stop that!" he growled and bit down hard into her soft flesh, leaving teeth marks, but not breaking the skin.

Serge tensed.

Sev had rolled up the front flaps of the skirt all the way to her waist. Dani brought her arm down with all her might and dug the key she was holding into the back of the man's hand. Sev wailed in pain. "She fucking stabbed me, man. Look!". The little padlock key was still sticking out the back of his bloodied hand.

"Still think it ain't right to take the Halloween candy?" Mack taunted.

"Fuck it yeah, she owes me!"

Mack climbed on top of Dani's heavily boned stomach and straddled her. "Time to stop your arm!" He grabbed her arm, and using a little padlock he found by her side he locked her cuff to the collar, matching her other arm.

"You seen these marks on her titties? Looks like she been whipped or something. You think she's one of those freaky bitches who are into pain and shit?"

He then proceeded to knead her breasts roughly, pulling at her rings and twisting her nipples. He laughed at the sounds of pain and terror coming from the hooded head. "Yeah, you do like that, don't ya bitch! Keep resisting and I'll give you all the pain you could possibly wish for"

Sev had pulled the bloody key from his hand, and was between her legs having moved her skirt flaps out of the way "Damn she's locked up tighter than Houdini, man"

"Except this Houdini ain't never getting out!"

Dani screamed again and thrashed her body, gaining more leverage as her body recovered some of its strength, fuelled by the adrenaline rush of fight or fight.

"Even her pussy is all locked away. Let me try this key". The man tried the key in the first of the locks which secured her pussy panel to the corset. "It works! Ha, stupid bitch, you gonna regret stabbing me with this!"

The second lock came away just as easily as the first and he peeled the leather panel away from her pussy, exposing the rubber suit covering her cunt "Jesus, more layers than a fuckin' onion!"

Mack had by now found the nose holes in the hood and was playing with covering them, causing the poor girl to buck as she became desperate for air.

Sev's pants and trousers were round his ankles, semi flaccid cock in his hand, trying to bring it to life. He found and undid the crotch zipper in her suit. Her pussy lips bloomed forth like a flower as he removed the rubber panel. He saw the little rubber fingers coated in her thick juices, sweat and pussy juice leaking from her engorged lips. "Holy shit, man, she's fuckin' gushing down here. I think the bitch likes it rough, Mack!"

Serge could see the girl was in real danger now. He would have to intervene soon. Evidently Sev had "crystal dick" but his level of sexual arousal would probably drive him on regardless. Serge was not going to stand by and let her be raped by a couple of meth head scum.

"I wanna see her face" Sev slurred while he pulled at his dick trying the get it erect. "I bet she's real pretty"

"Why do you wanna see it's face? You don't look at the mantle while you are poking the fire! Hurry up and fuck it, I want my turn. Then we'll call the guys and they can have some candy too" he grinned evilly. "We can keep her at Ace's place. She wants to look like a fuck doll, let's keep her that way ..."

Sensing the serious increase in threat to her safety, Dani thrashed and kicked her legs desperately trying to push the man away from her sex.

Mack was mercilessly pulling and twisting her nipple rings. "You stop that right now bitch, you owe him. And then ... and then you can owe me too!"

"She ain't calming down Mack, damn this bitch is fiery"

Mack growled and reached into his jacket and pulled something out. "I know how to calm her down"

Serge saw the glint of the syringe. Mack was moving fast, his thumb already on the plunger, the needle heading straight for her exposed breast. Now was the time to act. With the lightning reactions of a proficient killer, Serge's boot was planted heavily into the chest of Mack before he even had time to see it coming out of the shadows, sending him crashing forcefully into the wall, knocking the wind from him. A hammer palm to the face broke his nose and left his face a sea of red.

In a seamless movement he then deftly grabbed the syringe from Mack and thrust it into Sev's cock and fully depressed the plunger, injecting the full load of whatever evil substance the syringe contained. Sev wailed, grabbing his cock.

The two attackers scrabbled shakily to their feet, and adopted defensive stances. They took a second look at the beast before them and turned tail and ran.

The girl had become more sedate, sensing the immediate danger had passed. Serge picked up the key from the ground, cleaned it and carefully placed it in the barrel of her left wrist lock. He watched with fascination as she fumbled and found the key with her right hand and turned it freeing her left wrist from the collar. She then went on to remove her left mitt. She wriggled her liberated fingers.

Satisfied that she now had the tools to make her escape, Serge left the alley to avoid being spotted when she eventually removed the hoods. He sat in his car a little way down the street and poured himself a coffee from his flask.


One by one I unlocked and removed the padlocks around the hood and collar.

It was not an easy task to do blindly and it took a lot longer than I hoped. I was fearful that whoever it was that accosted me would return to complete their heinous intent. It had been hard to hear clearly through the two hoods but I knew that I had been in great danger.

They, whoever they were, had been very rough with me and I could only assume that they were intending to rape me. If that were not sick enough it sounded like they were going to kidnap and keep me as some sort of sex slave. I had cried and protested as much as I could through the ordeal but my gagged bondage kept me a silent victim to their will.

How could Anya have done that to me, left me so vulnerable and unable to protect myself. She had said it was a punishment, but surely no indiscretion was worth the trauma I had just been forced to endure.

I didn't know what had caused them to abandon their attack but I was extremely grateful to whomever or whatever it was that saved me. It couldn't have been the police or else I would be in custody already. Although I had no clear idea of what had just happened to me, I had the feeling that I had narrowly escaped something very, very bad.

Eventually I had the collar, hoods and gags removed and I took in deep breaths of fresh air as the cool rain washed the sweat from my face. I captured the refreshing water on my tongue and lapped it down greedily.

My shoulder bag had been left near me, containing the clothes I had worn to the club earlier. It also contained my purse, phone and Anya's special phone. At that moment I wanted to stamp on her phone with my ballet boot, smashing it, and Anya's influence, into a million pieces. I had rage in my heart.

I should not hang around in the alley in case they came back. I carefully zipped my bruised and welt-ridden breasts back into the rubber dress. With some very great effort I managed to unlock and remove the ballet boots, replacing them with my heels from earlier. My feet ached badly as I tried to re-accustom them to a much smaller heel, having spent so much time forced en-pointe. But at least I would be able to walk a little more convincingly in public.

There was no time to fully release myself. With my hoods, gag, cuffs and collar removed and skirt zipped closed I simply looked like a woman with a taste for unusual rubber fashion, rather than a rubber bondage fetishist. With the removed items stowed in my shoulder bag I quickly left the alley and took stock of where I was. There was only a single car on the road a little way off. Other than that the area was deserted. I recognised the area immediately and walked round the corner to discover the entrance to The Lair.

At least Anya had not left me in the middle of nowhere. Had she perhaps orchestrated the "scene" as part of my punishment? Why else would she dump me on "home" ground. My mood lightened a little at the revelation. The time on my phone was 4.30am.

Once the Uber had safely taken me home, it took another couple of hours to extricate myself from the rest of the outfit. The hardest part was the corset with its odd "toothbrush" tool which required me to almost dislocate my arms to reach the locks.

After a long shower I collapsed naked onto my bed and felt every inch of me throb and ache as the strain of the day began to fade.

"Fuck Anya's text, I'm done with her" I said out loud.

The burn in my breasts was still there and the welts were still painful. I massaged soothing lotion into them feeling the ache fade a little. My nipples hardened and became sensitive as I oiled them. I closed my eyes and I was back into my hooded bondage once more as the unseen person again teased, twisted and pulled at them. I moaned gently.

I hated to admit it but the incident in the alley had also turned me on, even more so now I believed it was one of Anya's games. Indeed one of the guys had commented how juiced and swollen I was down below when he had eventually worked his way to my pussy. I got off on the danger.

However despite how incredibly vulnerable I had been, despite how utterly helpless I had been, despite having been roughed and abused by total strangers, despite how close it had seemed I came to being kidnapped to some den to be used as a sex slave ...

... and despite Anya's irresponsible abandonment of me, directly leading to the whole horrific episode ...

... despite all that ...

I was home. I was safe. I had pushed beyond my limits. I had endured extremes and emerged relatively unscathed except for superficial marks which would heal and fade quickly. I had faced horrors and survived. I had dodged a life threatening bullet.

It felt liberating to have faced such danger and emerge a winner.

It felt good ... Mmm so good ... so wonderfully goooood ... so ... so .. so ...

My eyes flicked open again as my sopping wet fingers brushed my clit to the edge and I came hard.

Once I had calmed down I typed the message into Anya's phone:


I paused before sending, searching my feelings for contradiction. At that moment, there was none. I pressed send.

story continued in part seven

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