At some point, after her twenty-one forced electrical orgasms had ended and the machine had begun (slowly but firmly) fucking her again, Katie had simply passed out. Overwhelmed by the powerful stimulation of the machine as it held and toyed with her body, she fell into strange and cruel dreams of enormous steel hands, shuddering pleasure and dozens of girls moaning in unison with her, all kneeling submissively at the base of a throne.
When she woke, stiff and aching, she found herself free of the machine. She was lying tangled in a white blanket atop a loose pile of pillows, with sunlight streaming in the windows of a small, plain room.
She sat up quickly, only to discover that she wasn't quite as free as she'd thought. She was wearing some kind of heavy collar, padded but snug enough that she couldn't twist it. Her hands were still bound with leather-lined cuffs behind her. Her legs were unbound, but the thought of running was quickly pushed out of her head when she realized what the thing between her legs was.
It was a very strange sort of chastity belt--but Katie had no doubt it was one. A sort of flat, glossy black cup covered most of her pussy, held in place by a pair of black leather straps that rose up above her hipbones and seemed to connect at the small of her back, just over a cold metal disc. As she squirmed around, trying to get a better look at it, she could feel that it was holding itself in place inside her cunt as well--not painfully, though she had no doubt it would become painful if she tried to remove it.
Completing the setup was a little X of black electrical tape directly over her clit, holding a hard little bead of some kind in place against it. A slim wire ran from the bead down under the cup: Katie had figured out enough by now to guess that it was a vibrator, and that she was sick of these toys. She reached down, arching her back to get her hands between her legs and pull the whole apparatus out.
"I wouldn't," said a girl's voice from the doorway.
Katie looked up to see one of the other girls from the back of the van: the pretty blonde one, who seemed to have been grabbed in the middle of a nighttime jog. She was out of her workout clothes now, though, wearing a metal collar of her own--and one of the most humiliating outfits Katie had ever seen.
It was something like a slutty maid costume that a sorority girl might wear for Halloween, but even those weren't as outrageous as this one. The underlying little black dress barely even reached her hips, exposing so much leg that Katie could clearly see the girl wore a chastity belt too. Predictably, she was wearing a pair of black stilettos that must have been like walking en pointe. Her white stockings rose to her thighs, and the matching white pinafore over the dress wasn't just low-cut--it was actually scooped to frame and push up her completely bared breasts, which were small and perky enough not to need much support. As she turned to close the door and walk in, Katie could see that it was completely backless, tied together behind her only by a little black-ribbon bow.
And she was holding another costume just like it.
"I'm not putting that on," Katie said immediately.
"I didn't want to either," said the blonde girl, sounding a little desperate. "But believe me, it'll get so much worse. He can do things to your body that--you just can't understand--"
"Oh, I can understand," said Katie, shuddering. "He had me down in this little room all night, strapped into a machine."
The girl turned bright pink. "Oh," she mumbled, "that was you?"
"But if he's stupid enough to think he can turn me into some brainless bimbo just by torturing me," snapped Katie, "then he can just take all his little toys and shove them up his ass. I'd rather go naked than wear his little fetish outfit."
The girl winced. "I was afraid you'd say that."
The shock that snapped through Katie's body from her collar left her unable to think, move or even scream; her muscles locked up, arching her back and making her writhe on the pillows, and even when it finally ended and left her gasping, they were still trembling too hard for her to do more than writhe.
"My name's Emma," muttered the blonde girl, bending down to gently roll Katie onto her back. "You're Katie, right? I know this is going to seem like I'm being his, y'know, his Judas goat or something, but I'm just trying to play it smart." She began to dress Katie in the humiliating maid's uniform, tugging it tight and tying another bow behind her before pulling out another pair of thigh-highs. "There's no way we're getting out of here if we don't let him think we're playing along... trust me, I already tried."
"Ffffuck that," managed Katie, gasping for breath as her body slowly began to recover. Somehow the slutty uniform really was more humiliating than being naked. Noticing that it seemed to have been tailored to her proportions brought back his mocking words the night before, about getting her "fitted."
Emma sighed as she finished pulling Katie's stockings on and began putting her feet in the stripper-shoes. "Look, just try it my way for a little while, okay? The other two girls fought back together when he went to get them this morning, and they got absolutely nowhere. He told me a little about what he's going to do to them, to--to punish them, and I don't..." She shuddered. "No offense, but I don't want to wind up in one of those basement rooms with you."
That brought Katie up short. She wanted to fight, but she couldn't take another round on the machine; even thinking about it made her whole body tremble in fear, anger and--she had to admit--arousal. The thing had practically turned her mind into jelly, and she needed all her wits about her if she was going to get out of here intact.
"Fine," she muttered. "Whatever you say."
The relief on Emma's face was so clear that Katie almost felt guilty, knowing deep down that if she had to leave this girl behind to get free of their abductor, she'd do it in a heartbeat.
With Emma's help, she climbed to her feet, legs and arms still shaking from the shock. She quickly discovered that even walking (or tiptoeing) with the chastity device on was a maddening tease: there was something like a short, bulbous dildo inside her, cunningly shaped and flexible enough that any shift caused it to thrust and withdraw just a tiny bit. Katie flushed as the sensation of slipperiness made her realize the thing had already made her wet. It seemed to have been molded perfectly to her inner walls; she could just guess where those measurements had come from. She didn't even want to think about what it would do to her if the bead vibrator or the strange metal disc at the small of her back were activated to do... whatever they did.
Walking precariously, tarted up and fucking themselves with every step, the two girls stepped out into a short corridor. Emma, leading the way, had to steady herself on the wall at one point to stay in her heels; Katie resented the fact that her own hands were still behind her. But maybe that meant she was the one he still considered a threat...
Actually, she thought as they left the hallway and entered a very tall, circular, mirrored room, things could have been worse.
Emerging from another hallway was their kidnapper, pushing a steel thing like a bellhop's luggage cart. Instead of coat hangers, the rail at the top of it had two steel hooks attached to it, each with a long, rigid haft. Bound back-to-back and hogtied, vaginally impaled on the hooks, were their fellow victims--the redhead and the Asian girl.
Both were gagged and nude, except for their own collars and a pair of white thigh-high stockings on the redhead. They looked like they'd been struggling hard; he, meanwhile, didn't seem to even have broken a sweat. The girls would occasionally let out a muffled cry and jerk wildly, as the wheels on the cart rolled over some sort of contact and triggered a jolt of electricity from the battery wired to its base.
Even the sight of them being tormented like that brought a rush of memory from the basement room back to Katie's mind; her legs trembled. She would have liked to think it was nausea making her knees weak.
But that would have been a lie.
"Good morning, Katie, Emma," he said, stopping the cart with his foot as if this situation were the most normal thing in the world.
"Good morning, Sir," Emma chirped. Katie, sullenly, said nothing. She was trying to figure out if the two of them together could take this guy by surprise--but her hands were still cuffed, and if he'd really overpowered the other two that easily...
"You should teach Katie the proper greetings when you have a moment, Emma," he said, giving her a slightly harder look. "I need to take Jen and Amber here downstairs to instill a little discipline. You two can each take a kneeling pad and wait for me. I wouldn't attempt to leave; your collars have just been locked to the borders of this room. And we know what happens when we defy our collars, don't we?"
He winked. Katie gritted her teeth, but remembered the overpowering shock of just a few minutes before, and said nothing.
"Very well. I'll return in a moment." The girls on the cart whimpered again as he resumed rolling it out of the room.
"What was that about 'proper greetings?'" scowled Katie when she thought he was out of earshot.
"What do you think?" Emma shrugged. "He wants us to call him Sir, Master, or James."
That made Katie blink. "James?"
"Yeah." Emma turned slightly pink. "He said that, um, after last night we might as well be on a first-name basis."
Katie had no idea what to say to that.
Emma was walking over to a set of four blue velvet pads, about two feet by six inches, arranged in a semicircle on one side of the room. "I think we're supposed to settle down on these... and don't think he hasn't got cameras to make sure we're doing what he says."
Katie didn't like the idea of kneeling, but anything had to be better than standing around in these heels. She settled down onto the pad next to Emma, unconsciously settling onto her ankles and spreading her knees to keep the chastity device from digging into her thighs. Combined with the pull of her bound arms behind her back, she found herself in a naturally arched posture that was somehow the least uncomfortable position--and almost obscenely submissive.
