Smu - Maing New Friends

Carmen's nose itched. Again.

You'd think after the hundreds of times she'd found herself bound up, her body would have learned to not instinctively develop that familiar itch. But, there it was again. Like a bad habit that she couldn't kick. Carmen could practically tell the time by the coming and going of that itch. It was the tenth time the itch had cropped up, so she'd been locked in the trunk for about four hours now. Not bad. Another hour and she'd match her record time. Since she entered the trunk late in the night, that meant that it had to be early morning by now.

The car jostled again, and Carmen's entire perception of things shook with it. What, were they travelling on a dirt road or something? For what must have been twenty minutes now the car would jostle and shake as it traversed whatever uneven terrain it was made to transport the small travel trunk that Carmen was contained within. She was familiar with the trunk. Her Master loved to watch her climb into and out of the confined space. It was one of his favorite punishments for when his naughty little girl misbehaved. It was one of the few punishments that actually felt like a punishment.

The box was usually fun for the first half hour or so, but eventually it just became boring. Nothing to see, nothing to hear. At this point, she was actually glad for each little jostle and bump. They gave her something to think about, at least. The itch on her nose began to fade again, replaced by an aching in her hips. She was coming up on her limit, and this time Master wasn't around with the timer handy. He'd be upset if they damaged her, though. Carmen was confident that her time in the box was nearly complete.

That confidence became even more pronounced with the jostling movement stopped. The sensation, along with the sound of the car's boot popping open, confirmed that she had arrived at her destination. Her trunk was lifted again. It was always such a strange sensation to be carried like that. It felt like falling in a way. The falling sensation stopped, as most falling sensations tended to, with a sudden jolt. She'd been set down. Then there was another loud crash from somewhere. Behind her? Her nose itched again, for the eleventh time. Two more and it would be the most time she'd spent in the trunk.

The cramps were going to be horrific this time.

Carmen had no idea where she was. She had been on vacation with her Master in Monaco when he had surprised her with trunk time. All she knew was that Master was not coming with her, and that she would be away for some time. Carmen knew that she should be more wary of such things. This is how girls like her get trafficked, after all. But she trusted Master. He had been very kind and good to her for over two years now. It would be out of character for him to just dispose of her. Wherever she was, it was for her own good. And even if it wasn't, she was certain she'd be able to have some fun with it either way.

Her nose itched one more time before the lock released and the lid to her mobile home swung upward. Carmen closed her eyes instinctively, but soon realized that there was no point. Wherever she was, it was almost as dark as the trunk itself had been. She unhinged herself slowly, the aches coming on with every little movement. She narrowly avoided a heinous charley horse in her left leg as she crawled out of the box. Standing up was another small feat, requiring multiple minutes. Of course, her nose no longer itched now that her hands were free.

Carmen took her time in limbering up again. As she did, she took in her surroundings. The room was cool, but not quite chill, against her naked flesh. A welcome change of pace from the stuffy confines of the trunk. She was in a narrow hallway, easily able to touch both of the stone walls at the same time. The ground beneath her bare feet was hard and cool, porous like a city sidewalk. As she stretched, she noticed the bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling in their little metal cages. A grin spread across her face. "How long until I am in a little metal cage of my own, I wonder." That thought did what the cool air could not and brought on a little shiver of anticipation.

Behind her was a large metal door sans a handle. In front, mostly darkness, with a small shaft of light gleaming from what appeared to be a window to the left side of the hall.

Carmen ignored the door. It was no doubt the way she came from and the lack of a handle told her all she needed to know about it. Instead, she padded down the hall, the cool basement air gliding around her clammy, nude skin as she did. The window looked like a valuable place to learn something new.

What she learned when she got there delighted her. "Oh, darling. Your skin is magnificent!" The latex-clad doll on the other side said nothing; Carmen suspected that she was well-gagged anyway. The faceless latex creature gleamed a radiant white against the gloom of the basement, and Carmen couldn't suppress the twinge of arousal that the sight of her elicited.

Carmen had only been wrapped in such latex once, and it had been electric. Literally. The client for the show had her set up on display to show off his new electrostimulation products. It had been a long, strenuous, exciting day. By the time they got back to his hotel room, Carmen had been almost too tired to fuck him senseless. Almost. She hoped to be able to try it again.

The latex doll said nothing as she handed Carmen a strip of black leather set with an intricate red inlay as well as two bits of metal on the ends and a ring at the center. It then pantomimed wrapping the leather around its neck.

"I know how to put on a collar," Carmen scoffed as she looped the supple thing around her neck. The fit was snug, but not tight. Perfect. "Hey thi-achk!" Carmen had wanted to compliment the workmanship of the accessory, but her words of praise were choked out of her as the collar's surface reacted with a jolt to her throat. Surprise quickly turned again to arousal. This place was going to be fun.

The drone then passed across a longer piece of the same leather. Carmen didn't even wait for it to act out what to do before she wrapped it around her waist, marvelling again at the fit. The connectors also fascinated her. There was no buckle or loop. Just two small studs on either end that clicked together effortlessly and refused to let go once they had.

Four smaller strips of the leather were then deposited on the sill of the window, which Carmen wasted no time in wrapping around ankles and wrists. The drone then motioned for her to place her hands at her waist, cuffs to belt. When she did, Carmen was pleased to notice the cuffs unwillingness to be removed from that very spot, leaving her largely helpless.

"Mar-aagh!" The second shock didn't catch her as off-guard as the first, but it still had the intended effect of keeping her from finishing her thought. Immediately after she was zapped, the door before Carmen slid to the side with a powerful screech as unlubricated metals scraped angrily against each other. The door opened into a much cooler, much larger room. The space was about as well-lit as the hallway, and just as empty.

There was a tingle at the back of Carmen's neck. The collar wanted her to move forward. She opted, instead, to see how far she could push it. She was likely not going to get her morning workout at this rate. Maybe fighting against the collar would get her heartrate up a little. The tingle grew from a soft tickle to a consistent prickling. What surprised her was that the belt joined in a few seconds later, as did both her ankle and wrist cuffs. A few seconds more, and the pain was rising to a place of real discomfort. Carmen could feel herself tensing against the sensation as it continued to build.

Finally, she relented and stepped forward into the empty room. As she did, the door screamed closed again, the sound uncannily harsh in this more cavernous space. The room was bare and empty and dry. The comfortably cool air from the hallway was replaced by a certain chill. Like an empty movie theater.

This place was at least as boring as the trunk. Gray walls were scarcely better scenery than nothing at all. After the typical twenty or so minutes, her nose began to itch. There was one advantage that this place had over the other. She had a way to scratch her nose here. She walked confidently toward the wall, only growing slightly less sure of herself as her attachments began to tingle the closer she came. With only a few centimeters between the wall and her face, she had to break away and return to the center. So close, yet so far.

Next she tried crouching down to use the floor as a means to sate her irritation. But the collar grew annoyed with that even more quickly and fiercely than it had with the wall. She was barely able to dip into the beginnings of a squat before the collar insisted that she watch her posture.

An image was projected onto the wall opposite the door she entered through. It was a simple sign encouraging "No Sitting" in the two languages that Carmen understood and about six others she didn't. The instinct to rebel flew through her, compelled her to at least

test

the system. But the sparking tingle of the collar was still fresh in her mind. She opted to behave. At least for now.

Time passed about as quickly as it did when she was in the trunk. Being able to move and watch the same four walls may have actually made it worse. One nose itch later, the blare of a claxon filled the space. Carmen flinched, feeling the tingle of the collar again as she instinctively crouched down a little. A new sign alighted on the far wall, telling her to walk. She had already been walking, but this new invective made her want to quit. Calming that rebellious urge, she continued apace, making another full circuit around the empty room before the alarm screamed again as the "walk" signal was replaced by an opposite-colored "stop" command. Curious what was coming next, Carmen again obeyed.

The door at what Carmen was beginning to think of as the "back side" of the room scraped open once again with it's rust-fueled scream of agony. A new face attached to a sweet looking young lady stood on the other side, looking appropriately confused and concerned at what was expected of her.

Carmen felt a swell of pride as the girl stumbled hastily into the room, no doubt compelled by just the slightest tingle at the back of her neck. The new girl was about three inches shorter than her, with a petite frame and pearly-white skin with dark red hair. Someone's dream girl, certainly. Carmen preferred her own, fuller, more womanly figure. Her Master did, too. Also unlike Carmen, this girl was fully, if modestly, clothed.

This revelation caused the Brazilian beauty some small excitement. Would she be on full display, even compared to the other slaves here? The thought caused Carmen to hold her head high. If her Master's property was to be on display, she would ensure that everyone was jealous of what was his. She put a little bit of a strut into her step as she approached the new girl.

Perhaps some light conversation would ease the girl's nerves. "Hola-AA!" The collar attempted to dissuade her from speaking. Instead she attempted her to keep her voice down. "What's your na-AM!" That subterfuge only lasted a moment before the collar made it known that even whispering was off the table. As if to make this crystal clear, another warning flicked to life next to the one about the sitting that plainly told her "No Talking" in the same cycle of languages.

If anything, Carmen's attempt to ease the girl's worries only exacerbated them. Her posture of tense apprehension turned into something nearer to proper fear as she backed away from the chastised chica. Carmen regained herself quickly, though, and shot the girl a smile and a wink, which did seem to bolster her confidence some. The shocks were painful, but she'd encountered worse. If this is what this place thought of as "punishment", then it would make for a very enjoyable few months.

Carmen began to pace again, keeping an eye on the new girl, who made a few of the same explorations that she already had, though she never ventured quite as brazenly. Another point of pride. Her nose itched again, number three since she'd been here. She looked again at the new girl's tawny hair and got an idea.

It was impossible to sneak up on the girl, what with the two of them being the only thing for the other to look at. So instead, Carmen walked right up to her, gave her a wink, and slid around the side. She pressed her nose against the back of the girl's head and rubbed it up and down for the moment before the girl recoiled away in confused terror.

The look they shared was definitely unbalanced. The girl regarded Carmen with a curious apprehension, raising her eyebrows in a sort of universal "what the hell was that" expression. Carmen returned the look with a lust-fueled stare. The girl's hair had smelled wonderful. Just the right mix of flowery shampoo and nervous sweat. Master had always appreciated Carmen's willingness to play with other girls, even though she didn't find them particularly attractive. And while she would have preferred to perform with a man right now, any port would do in this particular storm of boredom.

She approached again, and the girl retreated. It would not be too hard to back her into a corner, at this rate. The girl was frail, mousey, lacking in both grace and athleticism. And she feared the collar. And while her fear of Carmen was greater for the moment, that would not last for long.

Five steps more and the girl was backed to the point that the collar began to warn her against going any further. One step further and she was beginning to look left and right for new avenues of egress. With each glance, Carmen widened her stance, ready to cut-off the girl's escape. She veered left a little, herding her prey toward the corner.

The girl took the bait and began to move to her own left. She was allowed two steps before Carmen again cut her off with a large, swift movement. This movement was rewarded with another jolt from her collar as a sign reading "No Running" illuminated on the wall. It had been worth it, though, as now the girl was well and truly trapped in an invisible corner.

Carmen drew closer as the girl was unwilling to retreat any further back. Her own collar was already beginning to tingle, so the girl's must be actually painful. She regarded the girl in the way that a hawk regards a mouse. The glare was met with quavering eyes that still darted from side to side, hoping futilely for an escape. But there was no escape to be had. The poor dear couldn't even kneel down and beg for mercy. The most she could do was whimper weakly, which the collar didn't seem to mind.

Carmen tried to gesture to her nose, only to realize that she didn't have that capability. She had to remind herself that it was that very conundrum that created the need to bully the girl into submission. She'd been having so much fun with the act, itself, that she had forgotten that it had a greater purpose.

Carmen gestured, as best she could without the benefit of arms, for the blonde girl to turn around. Eventually she was able to get the girl to look down at her hands, which showed a finger spinning in a circle. After a few repetitions, the girl finally understood and did as she was bade, turning a half circle and facing away. Her timing could not have been better, either. The entire process had taken long enough that Carmen's nose was again itching like crazy. She pressed against the back of the girl's head, burying her nose within the mussed expanse of the girl's straw-blonde locks.

Whether through exertion or fear, the smell of sweat was stronger than before. It almost overpowered the lilac-tinged scent of Blondie's shampoo. It was as an aphrodisiac to Carmen, who wished she could compel this little morsel to her knees to relieve the lust that was building up and literally dripping from between her legs. That denial of her desires only made them that much stronger and more present. Carmen's thighs, slick with her own musky lubricant, slid across each other as she lingered within the girl's hair. Her nose was fine now, but there was a new itch to scratch. A much more primal itch.

Just as she was formulating a way to compel the girl to finger her hungry snatch, Carmen's train of thought was rudely interrupted by the klaxon sounding once again. The sign on the wall told her to walk, so she spent a few seconds in stern defiance of that order before acquiescing. Blondie tried to be a little more obedient, but Carmen wanted someone to share in the punishment, so she prevented the girl walking for a few seconds as well. It was important, after all, to make sure that a new slave had a full understanding of the consequences of failure.

The walking, once it started, was a little more enjoyable than last time. Carmen luxuriated in the feeling of her juices on her thighs, walking with an exaggerated gait in order to rub them together as much as possible. The indulgence, sadly, was made to stop less than a minute later, as the claxon sounded again, informing the room's two occupants that it was time to "stop".

The door at the back of the room opened again, screeching in protest as it had the first two times. But the figure beyond the door was nothing like the first one had been. The word that came to Carmen's mind immediately upon seeing the chiseled mountain of a man was "stallion". He was tall, pale, blue-eyed and blond-haired. The stereotypical nordic hunk. This was a man meant to mate, and his outfit did nothing to discourage that impression. Aside from the belt, cuffs, and collar that seemed to be uniform for the students here, he wore only a tight black leather speedo that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He walked into the room with a stoic confidence and stood stock still in the center of the space as the door closed behind him again. He did not smile nor quaver, but stood as the mountain against the rain.

Carmen was in love.