TheTrainingOfTanya2 (6 page)

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Authors: Bruce McLachlan

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BOOK: TheTrainingOfTanya2
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With a shout, she tried to stop them, but the rough treatment had come as a complete surprise. The chain snapped taut and hauled at her rear and sex to make her jerk with a bolt of unprecedented distress. Dangling, Tanya wailed as her own spitefully opened and anchored tracts held her aloft. Every grope at the chain that she made to try to haul herself up, nagged her palms and fingers. The barbs pricked and scratched, dissuading any climb out of her predicament.

The couple stood at the lip of the pit. The Master looked down at her with a bland expression and the Mistress was gloating as she held an hourglass of bone in her hands. She inverted the skeletal timer and the well of crimson in the top began to drip steadily into the bottom. The long strands of gore stretched down into a growing pool and the thick fluid began to count off the duration of Tanya's suffering. The woman placed the timer at the edge of the pit and gave it a pat.

"I shall return in three hours, slave. If you have fallen, well then that is your fate," reported her Master.

They both turn around and strode away as though they were bored with her and were now intent on searching for something more entertaining by way of a diversion.

Tanya shrieked for mercy. The weight of her body was already starting to drag the bloated intruders free. With a desperate clench, she held onto the bulbs. She was unable to use her hands to aid her due to the effects of the spiky chains.

The strain of holding onto the agonising trespassers was beyond her and the monstrously slow drip of the hourglass testified as to just how slowly time was passing. Tanya knew that she could not make it. She would fall to her death, or be crippled by the plummet and left to die of starvation. Her Master had shown faith in her and she was going to let him down.

Her muscles burned from maintaining the rigid and tensed state. Every time she felt her anchors slip a little and the balloons shift outward, she wailed and doubled her efforts. Tanya could manage to halt the expulsion, but was always unable to recapture the lost millimetres.

The hours crawled by with a mocking lethargy. Tanya's will was flagging with every second and her muscles were slowly giving out. She was being surrendered to the fall by her continual stockpiling of tiny measures. As more of the balloons emerged, she looked to the timer. Tanya held on with all her might and watched the last tiny reservoir of red start to drain down. She strove to hold on and watched each drip with such intensity that the fluid trickling away could have been her very own blood.

The last orb plopped into the well of red and Tanya knew she had succeeded against all rationality and probability. However, no stern features came to look down at her. The couple had failed to attend as promised.

Tanya screamed for her Master to deliver her. She howled to draw his attention, but he was not there. The whole ordeal had been a false one from the start. There was to be no rescue. The offer of hope was only there so that it could be crushed.

Sobbing in grief and anguish, she felt the last of her hold fall free. The balloons opened her and popped free. She was so completely mortified by her imminent plunge that she did not even notice the extra pain. The blackness smothered her and a hurtling descent began.

The tunnel suddenly flared outward into an underground cavern and she struck some sort of pool. Tanya groped at the thick sludge as she started to sink. The substance was giving way beneath her like gelatinous quicksand.

Stretching her legs downward, Tanya failed to reach any solid surface and she instantly began to panic. The thick fluid was dragging her below with a tardiness that was dreadful in its steady monotony.

For a brief moment, she saw that she was in a cave with a low ceiling. The domed roof was accessed the short tunnel that led back to the surface. The walls were dotted with deeply set rings and several outlets drooled a lumpy viscous pink sludge that fed the pool.

Suddenly all detail was stolen as a booming tone reverberated throughout the cavern. The stone rolled back into its place had shut off all light.

Tanya was lost in the darkness and quickly began to paddle for the side. It was a difficult feat and she had to fight strenuously against the stern drag of the ooze lest she vanish beneath the surface. The fight became ever hardier as fatigue harassed her limbs and her head was starting to go under just as her fingers grazed the side. With all the manic celerity the goo permitted, Tanya clawed for a handhold. Her grasp sunk lower every second and the gelatinous fluid began to seal over her face. Her fingers locked about a submerged ring and with a savage pull, she drew herself up.

Spitting the clinging film from her lips, she drew in a breath and reached out for a higher ring. She patted along the wall in the dark and it took a few minutes to locate one. When she found it, she locked her arm through the hole and it made staying above the fluid level considerably easier.

Hanging by the tenuous anchor, she closed her eyes and drifted into a light daze of recovery. Her body had been pushed into a state of massive exhaustion and shock. The sudden carelessness of her jailers as to her fate made her fear her eventual destiny even more. What was going to happen to her now? They had laid down a sequence of events. Surrender to the Master, seduction to the rule of the Mistress, followed by lifelong erotic slavery. They had departed from this scripted fate and now Tanya had no idea what would follow.

Chapter Four

For three weeks, Tanya had been at the mercy of her clients. They had done things to her that had left her a screaming wreck. At the time of their application, she had wished only to die rather than face another moment of their ministrations, but afterwards everything changed. Her opinion inverted the moment a respite was gained. Ecstasy like nothing she knew poured through her in the moments of relief, and she was even more overjoyed the longer and more brutal the session had been.

The decadent perversity of her customers seemed infinite, and she loathed and loved each with a depth and fury beyond measure. The humiliations, the degradation, the acts that they perpetrated to sate insane and twisted fetishes, were delightful.

For the other captive women, they were too horrendous to even recall, and sometimes Tanya felt shame that she was deriving so much pleasure from what others found so utterly repulsive. On these occasions, she tried to make herself hate it, to push the sessions from her mind. However, as she blotted one from her thoughts, another session of iniquitous debauchery reminded her of all that had occurred before and suddenly she was wet with desire and embracing herself, dreaming of bondage and the lash, and cursing the lack of physical restraint.

The abusers were as varied as their pursuits. There were old and young alike, male and female. Her own gender proved to be more implacable and heartless than the males. The men would often cut short their pursuits to pander to their raging lust--a sacrifice that robbed them of the enthusiasm to finish their torments. However, the libido of the women could be drawn out for longer and let them satisfy every wicked desire and predilection before calling an end to the session through masturbation or the straddling of Tanya's face, feet, or hands.

Every time she was used, she felt another serving of her guilt and regrets lift away, but in its place was a replacement in the form of an innate shame that she was behaving so iniquitously. It would have been easier to forget such notions if women who would have rather died than not surround her, continue to serve Sebastian. Nevertheless, fear of reprisal on their families and loved ones kept them enduring the maltreatment, and yet, Tanya also found this a comfort because her own sense of disgrace would be meagre compared to what it would inflict on her family.

Thanks to such intense contradictions, her mind was in a constant state of baffled confusion. It was like a churning storm in the centre of her mind that muddled her thoughts and convoluted her views and opinions. Sometimes she yearned even more heartily for abuse, just to distract her from this mental quagmire. Such maltreatment only kept it at bay for a few minutes, because then it returned afterwards with more ferocity than ever before.

The only thing that helped her through the more trying days, was Amber. The woman came to tend her regularly. She soothed her welts and wounds, and she never failed to take advantage of their isolation. The love they made helped keep her sane. The tenderness, the soothing embraces and heady passion left Tanya deeply besotted with the enigmatic woman. They never had time to talk. They only had time to pleasure each other, to fill their senses with friendly flesh and forget their horrible incarceration.

Despite this relationship, Tanya knew that she had to escape. She was slowly going insane from the battering her psyche was being forced to undertake. She needed to get away from Sebastian and the other girls, to allow herself to revel in her debauchery and not be reminded that others resented it so acutely.

There had to be circles of people who consensually embraced their vices, and if she could locate some, she would fare better there. After fleeing her home, she had been rendered destitute by a complete lack of valuable skills or knowledge. Now she was a highly experienced masochist, a submissive vixen who was well versed in pleasuring male and female alike. She finally had something of value and if she could locate a suitable dominant, she could unreservedly offer herself to them.

The idea of selling her skills was of little interest now. She had no time for brief commissioned affairs. She wanted to make a conscious and willing decision to enter perpetual bondage and servitude. There she would continue to explore and refine her sexuality and extract all she wished from it without impediment or regret. It also seemed to be a kind of crime to sell such services. It was such a wondrous gift. It so liberated her soul and filled her with new and strange sensations. Applying a price tag to such vaulted depravity, seemed to sully and diminish it.

Currently she was lying on the floor. She was manacled and confined, her legs bound together as she anxiously awaited a fresh client. Normally she was surging with anticipation and wondering what new and salacious perversions would twist her body and mind, and what sort of dark pleasures she would be made to quaff. Right now, all she could think about was escape.

If she did not escape soon, she would fall under the spell that Sebastian had promised. If she could escape, she could also come back and rescue Amber. All she needed was an opportunity, but in three weeks, not one solitary chance had arisen and she was starting to lose hope of finding a way out.

She knew the layout of the house enough to reach the back door. All she required was some clothing and a moment of relative freedom to seize her bid for freedom.

The whispering creak of the door hinges had her heart quiver with trepidation as to what would follow. Regardless of her current misgivings, the vices of the new customer were still a titillating mystery to be unravelled.

The young merchant was dressed in gaudy finery, with much affluent jewellery that was a typically vulgar trait of such commercial and profit obsessed castes. He set aside the case he was carrying and knelt beside her.

The man looked over her body with a fastidious stare. Upon finding her visage agreeable to his cravings, he scooped up her form and laid her upon the bed. Tanya's body was left facing upward so that her shackled arms were being squashed by the weight of her own torso. The client then turned his attention to his case.

Opening the luggage, he drew up a stool and placed it within easy reach of the bed. The first item to be freed from the interior was a sturdy leather manacle. He freed her left wrist and easily defeated her feeble struggles so that he might apply the restraint. The long imprisonment of her arms had made the limbs weak. Even so, she could have resisted more diligently but she was interested in what his predilections might be.

After tying the rope to the single steel ring that had been set in the leather, he jerked her arm toward the nearest bedpost. He looped the coil around the pole and then drew it along the bedside to the foot. The client traversed the post there and forged a temporary knot. He was taking great care to ensure she was not freed for one instant, so either he thought her to be wild and reluctant, or he was planning something extreme.

He treated the other hand in exactly the same manner on the other side of the bed before he drew forth a second pair of the cuffs. These were applied to her trapped ankles. He slipped the corresponding coil of rope that connected to her wrists out of its anchor and looped it about the bottom post and through the ring in the adjacent fetter. After freeing the rope from the other post, he attached it to the last ankle cuff and began to take away the chains that held her legs.

As the bonds came free, she half-heartily fought to break away of the imminent bondage, but he merely hauled at the ropes. By dragging her feet out, he splayed her legs wide and then took in all the slack before he re-affixed the lengths.

Tanya was now spread-eagled with a foot of rope leading from her extremities to each bedpost. Two lines of rope ran along the sides of the bed to connect a wrist and ankle.

When he sat astride her abdomen, she found that by pulling inward at the ropes, he could rack her in a most stringent manner. The client began to test his contrivance to the fullest. He pulled inwards with considerable strength and the tow made her limbs throb from the punishing wrench upon them. Her ligaments and muscles groaned under the strain. As a result, Tanya's body felt even more open and vulnerable to him. She quickly hid her elation at this new twist.

With a wicked laugh at her scowling features and supposed terrible straits, the client fled the bed and hastily began to remove his attire. Once nude, he vaulted back across her frame. The sharp descent onto her torso drove the wind from her lungs in a hoarse croak. Barely had she recovered when he tore a leather hood from the case and began to drag the garment over her head with barbarous tugs.

The hood was comprised of a thick layer of hide. The stitching was comprehensive enough to prevent airflow and there were no eye slits or holes for her nostrils. Only a small tube existed at her mouth through she might respire.

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