All characters are over 18 years old and this story is solely a figment of my imagination.
My language is Spanish, I apologize for any grammatical errors I may make when translating the stories into English).
On the Other Side of the Mirror 1 of 6
"Where the hell am I?" I ask myself as I regain consciousness, my hands are hanging from the ceiling and I'm only able to touch the ground with the tips of my toes.
The last thing I remember is being in a cab on my way to the airport to start my month-long vacation; as I always do when I go on vacation, I leave the company cars aside and take a regular cab so no one knows where I'm going.
As soon as I am fully awake, I start to become aware of where I am, I know perfectly well the sound of the whips hitting the bodies of the slave girls, the screams of the new slave girls as they feel the whip on their flesh and the moans of pleasure from the new sluts as they are forced to their first orgasm as slave girls.
Whoever has dared to kidnap me has brought me to my own slave girl processing center. I open my eyes slowly, not because I want to see my surroundings, for I know them perfectly well, but to ascertain that my abductors have made their first mistake.
Light begins to flood my eyes as I open them and I smile despite the latex gag that forces my mouth, my kidnappers have used my own toys to try to enslave me, ignoring that the hood they have chosen from the assortment of toys they have found in my office, is a special design that when I use it allows me to see and hear everything that happens around me.
I move my head to look around me and, in a few seconds, I confirm that I am in the basement of my own company, the yellowish hue of everything I see around me tells me that I have been fitted with the kitty hood.
Whoever planned all this knows well what they have done despite the hood mistake, today I was starting my usual month-long vacation away from the company, which means that in that time no one will notice my absence and look for me.
My only concern right now is what kind of processing they have chosen for me, whether they plan to continue transforming me according to the hood and turn me into a mascot or process me following one of the other twelve slave girl models that my company processes.
I know it won't take me long to find out, but the first thing I feel are fingers digging into my pussy looking for my clitoris. I try to hold the pleasure that those fingers provoke thinking about how I am going to get out of here, but soon I give up knowing that it is a useless effort, all my employees know very well how to make a young girl in processing reach her first slave girl orgasm, I myself have processed dozens of new slave girls and I know that the end is inevitable.
Fingers move in circles inside my pussy, stretching it, forcing it open, preparing it for the next step that I know will not be long in coming, my clitoris is slowly being worked, forcing it out of its cave, to be pinched and massaged.
As soon as I reach orgasm, without letting me recover from the climax I feel ice cold clamps grab my nipples stretching them until I get a scream through the gag blocking my mouth.
"Take the gag off;" I hear a voice I recognize as Albert's, one of my oldest workers, say, "You know I like to hear them scream as we pierce their nipples and clit."
One hand removes the latex ball from my mouth, just in time for a scream to escape from it as I notice how the red-hot needle pierces my right nipple, cold from the contact with the clamps, causing me intense pain, before the pain subsides it is the left nipple's turn, and again a loud scream escapes from my mouth. The pain I have felt from the piercing of my nipples is nothing compared to what I feel when my clitoris is pierced by the needle. As soon as I notice how the rings are closed in their respective holes, I hold my breath knowing what is coming next.