The Slave Games

It was a quick walk to the fifth challenge.

It was a walk in silence, with only a quick acknowledgement of the changing scenery from the slime coated walls of the fourth, to tiled flooring and smooth stone walls. Both Hannah and Amanda both knew they were reaching the end, and that time was running out. Four challenge rooms gone, and four of their friends lost.

Hannah did her very best to avoid thinking about what it could be. The dampness in her crotch had little to do with the slime bath previous and everything to do with her excited thoughts running rampant over what dastardly trap they would face next.

And shame of knowing what her friends would think of her if she fell for it.

The challenge room was shaped like a very sharp V, with two paths to the left and right, squeezing a triangle between them. The two corridors were separated from the exit by thick glass walls from ceiling to floor, like the foyer of a skyscraper.

At the far end of each corridor there were two doors leading into the triangle, and a shiny black sheet with the words; 'Stand with your back against this wall.'

Two messages, two participants. A game of simon says, but with what stakes?

Hannah stepped down one of the corridors, and was almost instantly locked in by another black sheet of shiny fabric that flipped down from the ceiling, a sheet of latex or something. With no way back, she'd been trapped into the corridor and out of sight from Amanda, still waiting at the entrance.

Then the latex began to advance toward her, a frame around the edge keeping it flush with the walls, ceiling, and floor.

"Hannah!?"

"Don't come through!" she yelled as she sprinted for the door, already knowing it was locked.

She knew what she really needed to do. She stepped up to the wall and put her back to it.

Instantly, the wall of latex halted, about halfway down the corridor, and remained there.

"Hannah?"

"I'm standing against the wall like the sign said."

"What about the door?"

"Its locked."

She knew what they needed to do.

"Amanda, you need to do the same thing on the other side."

"...Are you sure?"

"We're going to have to do what it says to get through."

"What if we don't?"

The moment the words reached her ears, the latex began moving once again, advancing inexorably towards the wall Hannah was cowering against.

"Fine," Amanda sprinted into view beyond the glass, another latex sheet lowering to block her escape, and flattened herself against the wall like Hannah was. "Now let us through!"

For a moment both walls halted, then began to retreat back to their starting positions.

Then, a foot or so in front of them, a screen dropped from the ceiling, and displayed a message.

'Perform ten jumping jacks.'

The black latex advanced towards them.

It was not as easy as it usually would have, with the two of them in high heeled boots, and the slime still left inside Hannah's suit sloshing around, but they both quickly completed them.

Amanda was first, and after she had done so her wall came to a stop. Only when Hannah had completed her own, wincing at the pain in her feet, did they both withdraw fully to the far end.

The display went black for a moment, before lighting up again.

'Pat your head and rub your belly at the same time.'

The both did so, and again the walls reset.

'Count to one hundred.'

They did, very quickly.

They needed to follow the instruction, the wall advancing was the time limit, when one of them completed it, their wall stopped, when they both completed it, the walls reset.

But what if they didn't?

'Strip to your waist.'

Here we go, Hannah thought, the sexual tasks that she'd known were coming. She quickly unzipped her suit to her waist and began to shrug it off. It clung to her now, not like a form fitting dress, but like a wet shirt. Sticky strands of fake cum strung between her silky pale flesh and the black skintight suit.

She peeled it off herself sensually, knowing that they must be being filmed right now. She'd been waiting for this, an opportunity to show off.

She was so grateful for her fashion choice now. To imagine that she'd been thinking she was too sweaty this morning? She was caked in fake cum now, and it dribbled down her cleavage. Further down she was as wet as a whistle, and with her cunt hidden by less than an inch of fabric, she knew she wouldn't be able to hide it for long. But while she'd been enjoying her striptease, Amanda was prudishly refusing to remove her own clothes.

Hannah bit back a retort about how showing a little flesh was the least she could do for their gracious hosts, instead she went with a far more meek, "Amanda, we've got no choice."

Wrong words. Amanda instead tried to overwhelm the latex wall, and while it flexed and folded around her blows, there was no sign of it tearing or breaking, and it never stopped advancing.

"Amanda..."

"I can't just let them do this Hannah."

"Amanda."

"This is so fucked up."

"Amanda!"

"What?!"

"Amanda please," she begged, as her friend was slowly squashed into a smaller and smaller space, "do it for our friends. They need you. Natalie needs you."

Amanda fell silent.

"I can't do it Amanda, I'm not strong enough. She needs you."

She shuddered, then unstrapped her breastplate with a grimace, before placing it on the floor beside her. She covered her breasts as the wall began to recede, though her modesty wouldn't be maintained for long.

'Starting with your feet together and hands by your side, complete twenty starjumps and end with your arms held out and your feet apart.'

Oh Hannah liked whoever had programmed this.

The humiliating commands kept coming, with orders to make their elbows meet behind their backs, to pinch their nipples, and to speak out their bra size. But it was about ten or so commands before the one Hannah was really waiting for rolled around.

A key dropped from the ceiling and the sign displayed the text 'Unlock your cuffs and strip completely' and she almost tripped with the speed at which she grabbed at it.

Hannah shoved her heels to the side and peeled the catsuit over her cum-streaked ass, then almost ripping it down her legs. She made no attempt to hide or disguise the flood of clear fluid around her crotch that was cleaning the more viscous white fluid away.

She spared a short glance to Amanda, and seeing she had her back turned, squeezed the residue left on the inside of her suit into her hands, which she then swallowed with glee.

She'd be lying if she said that she wasn't concerned about these new thoughts in her head, but again, every time she tried to focus that concern down it evaporated on the spot. She was, like every girl was deep down, a horny sexy little thing who just needed the opportunity to show it.

She gave another glance to Amanda and saw her trying to hide again. Didn't she know that the very next command would have them showing of their ass and cunt?

Without delay they were ordered to touch their toes for ten seconds without bending their legs, followed swiftly by another to remain in the crab yoga pose for another ten. Oh Amanda delayed, refused, and complained, but her resistance wilted, and Hannah thought she saw a dullness behind her eyes.

The commands kept coming for who knew how long. To pose as a pinup girl, more starjumps, to slap their asses. Hannah could feel her juices dripping down her legs, and every command kept feeling better and better. The screen now added lines to read out, in addition to their regular commands.

"It feels good to obey," she said, when the order to say it came.

"I'm a slave," the next demanded as she squeezed her tits.

"I love to follow orders... Being controlled makes me horny," she read out, as she pistoned her fingers in and out of her pussy.

It was so infuriating to have to wait for Amanda to finish her own. She wanted to find out what was next. What sexy thing would happen?

The screen blinked another message at her. Except this time it wasn't an order, per se.

'To surrender, put your hands behind your head. Otherwise, do nothing.'

She looked over at Amanda, and saw that she still seemed to be completing repeats of previous orders. She hadn't received the same offer, the same permission to surrender, that Hannah had.

Or had she? And instead had she continued to resist?

She hadn't noticed that the wall was continuing to advance until it was less than a metre from her. The screen was about to vanish from view, and she suddenly realised that she still had her hands at her sides.

There wasn't any time for second thought. She raised her arms, stood on her tiptoes, and faced the oncoming shiny black oblivion. The final message on the screen blinked for a second before it was obscured; 'Good Slave,' and as her body was pressed firmly into the wall behind her only shuddering thought was that she'd made the right choice.

Black. Impenetrably smooth darkness was all she could see. The squeak of her tiny movements all she could hear. The cloying smell of rubber and her own arousal was all she could smell.

Then a deafening roar, and she felt the latex, at first tented around her curves like a tarpaulin, being pulled inward, shrinking, tightening, encasing her.

Hannah almost yelped when the latex almost snapped against her as the last of the air left. She felt like a caterpillar in a cocoon, or an object on display. Try as she might, and she wasn't trying hard, she couldn't do more than to flex the muscles in her legs, not even to breathe in or out.

And then the roar faded, as the vacuum was switched off, and she was left there, half standing, half hanging, all submissive, to whatever came next.

What came next, to her surprise, was nothing.

No hands roving, no torment looming.

Fuck she was so horny she could cum from a slap on the wrist, but no touch came, so neither did she.

In the midst of her haze of lust she realised she'd been holding her breath, and it dawned on her that soon she'd have to take a new lungful of air. The only problem was that she was most definitely stuck in an airtight latex prison.

Had she just surrendered herself to death?

The orgasm that thought triggered her did nothing to reduce her fear, and played off it as the intensity rose, even as the idea that it would be her last act tickled her mind. In her throes she tried to gulp a breath, and in the latex rushed to her mouth, which in turn just made her more desperate for breath. She panted in and out quickly, hyperventilating in fear, even as her body continued to shake in pleasure.

Then there was a cold whisper of air on her tongue, a drip-feed of life as she felt her mind fade to the same black she was covered in. Then that whisper became a steady stream, and she greedily gulped a desperate breath against the latex. She could breathe, shallow yes, and she had to pump her lungs to take a full draw, but she could breathe. She would live.

Her whole body shook, she could feel her weight shift slightly. She was being moved.

Muffled voices beyond her sight and a hand against her thigh sent another wave of agonising pleasure down her spine.

There was a sharp stab in her buttock and she started to feel like she was floating. Drifting off to sleep.

Some more jostling and a minute or so later, she felt the tension against her skin release, and without the vacuum keeping her upright she fell out the bottom. She couldn't move her muscles to arrest her fall, and collapsed onto the floor, and her last sight before consciousness left her was of hands reaching towards her.

---

Hannah woke, who knew how long later, to find herself trapped by a vacuum seal once again.

She was leaning against a thick pillar like a ship's figurehead leans against the bow, held upright by a sheath of silver latex that clung to her like a coat of paint. Unlike her previous predicament however, this time her head was free, free to look down helplessly as all she could do was wiggle her fingers, clench her thighs, and slowly and strenuously breath in and out.

And of course, observe the rest of the room.

The rest of the room was dark, lit by the wall-torches they'd passed during the first part of the labyrinth, and like then this room too had sand covering the floor. However this room was on a larger scale than the first trap room, with a ceiling double the height and shrouded in darkness, and six pillars holding up the roof.

Hannah was welded tight to one of those pillars by the previously mentioned silver latex. The other five held the other girls who were captured before her.

Tomiko, her eyes and her hair speckled with sand, was half-entombed in one pillar, a sandstone texture to it. From Hannah's position she could just about see her bare buttocks peeking out the other side of the pillar, and the pool of semen on the floor behind her revealed the purpose.

Natalie's naked body was crisscrossed by both green vines and reddened welts where someone had gone to town on her with a whip. She dangled a from her green-painted pillar like a poorly hung Christmas decoration. She too had a pool of cum beneath her, though from the way it dripped from her asshole, she probably hadn't enjoyed it.

Janine was similarly naked and lashed to her pillar, this time by chains. Her face had new makeup applied to a high standard, but it was unlikely that anybody would pay attention to that as over half of her body was now covered with fresh tattoos, the skin around them still red and swollen. From her neck to her wrists and knees, there wasn't an inch that wasn't scrawled with exhortations to perform or receive sexual acts. She would be wearing long-sleeve turtlenecks for the rest of her life.

Camille at least was enjoying herself, though it took inside knowledge to even know it was her. The fourth pillar was a glass tube and, like the fourth trap room, filled to the brim with cum. The only sign of life was when the outline of a hand or breast would press against the glass, and the breathing tube.

Hannah, body outlined in silver, could only hope that she'd be violated like the others had been, even as she felt sorry that they'd been subjected to it, Camille excluded. Hannah's shame still struck through as she tried to keep her face straight, it wasn't helped by the jaw-breaking ballgag forced between her teeth. A gag shared by all five of the others.

Five? Oh yeah the sixth pillar was indeed occupied. By Stacey, their damsel in distress. Ironically she looked to be the least molested of the lot of them, and was merely tied to the

In the centre of the room, not even glancing at the lurid displays surrounding, was a minotaur, as bare-chested and muscled as Stacey's wildest fantasies, holding a coiled whip, facing the only entrance.

And through that entrance stepped Amanda. Naked, ashamed, clearly tired. And furious.

"What puny girl enters my lair?" The man in the minotaur mask bellowed.

"Fuck you!" Amanda yelled in response.

"Soon enough pet. But first a challenge," he reached into the back of his tiny leather pants and pulled a small penknife, "Spill my blood upon the sand and you and your friends may leave together. Decline and you alone will be free to leave. Fail and you will learn pain. Choose."

The foggy lust in Hannah's head was dissipating, and she immediately knew which outcome she'd prefer, because if there was anything she wanted more than a good dicking it was to stay with her friends. She could easily find a hot guy to tie her up after they escaped, surely.

Amanda clearly agreed as the knife was tossed towards her she wasted no time and leapt forward with a wordless cry.

She'd like to say that the subsequent battle was legendary, or arousing, or both, but there isn't much to say of the parity between a tired woman armed with a tiny knife, and a bodybuilder with a bullwhip. Within minutes Amanda was on her knees, covered with small welts, and doing her best to wrest the whip around her neck off.

"They should have sent a stronger woman, at least then I might get a good workout."

He lashed out at her again and caught her in her knife hand, sending the weapon flying. Without waiting any further, he strode up to her and roughly grabbed her by the hair, forcing her up.

To Hannah's surprise Amanda then snapped into action, with a twist she pulled away from the grasp and pulled his arm down, and then to everyone's surprise, bit him.

Her resistance was momentary of course, and a second later a strong backhand sent her sprawling into the sand.

She then slowly stood, and bared her teeth to show them blood red, and then with great care she spat onto the sand.

For a moment there was silence, before a bellowing laugh came from the mask. "Well done girl. A clever trick, but technicalities are still rules. I concede." He stepped back from the arena and left by the only entrance. Amanda watched him until he left and then went straight for the knife, and made her way over to the pillars to set them free.

Stacey was first, and with a few minutes of sawing she was free, and embracing Amanda.

"Thank you Amanda. Thank you. We can stay together now."

Hannah thought she saw something in Stacey's hand.

"Its okay Stacey. I'm just glad we got to you in time."

"But Amanda," there was definitely a glint in her hand, "you were half an hour late," and the needle in Stacey's hand was plunged into Amanda's ass.

"What? What did you... doooo..."

"What my master said of course. That if you won to give you this so we can all stay together."

"But... we... you're free..."

"Freedom. No no no Amanda, I've not been free for weeks. Master Dave has been treating me so well, I honestly couldn't ask for more, and when he told me about this? I just couldn't refuse. It was so easy to get us all in that elevator and the gameshow hosts took care of the rest. I thought I made a fantastic princess."

Around them all the black clad men who'd been working behind the scenes were starting to pile in and undo some of the restraints. Bringing Natalie down from her pillar, draining Camille's cumtank.

A man approached Hannah carrying another syringe, and she knew she was going to be waking up some-place else. And she was wet just thinking about it.

"He... said... let us go..."

"Oh you silly girl. He didn't say we'd be free, he said that we'd leave together. And we will. Its hard for Master to have a harem without slaves..."

"...cheat..."

"Its not cheating Mandy, Its just a technicality. And technicalities are still rules."

Hannah smiled around her gag as the stagehand game to remove her, and she offered no resistance when she was cleaned off and bundled into a woman-sized crate.

She'd always envied Stacey, for her boyfriend. Now they would share their Master.