Descent Into Darkness (12 page)

CHAPTER XXIII –
Circuitry

The slender saddle pressed the twin insertions deeper inside. Katarina was alone now and dropped into her zone. Legs pumped pedals. She lacked the vigour she would normally drive into her spinning classes but then her body already buzzed with fatigue.

The screen was now showing the station, the unsteady shot hinting at the camcorder used to capture the scene. A soundtrack played in her ears. It was vivid, a graphic narration of the day that changed her life. Somehow it already felt so long ago.

On and on she drove, pumping the pedals, settling into a cadence with her eyes now screwed shut. She needed to concentrate and ignore the intrusive reminders of her place, and she tried to shut out the painful reminder that replayed on screen. A glance showed she had caught up and managed to offset the time but in that glance she had also seen the images and couldn’t escape the story being told through the earphones, much as she wanted them gone.

She was winning, pushing herself on. The last kilometre approached. Lactic acid started to scorch her thigh muscles. She was rocking slightly now to aid her efforts. Onward. The butt plug and phallus were nudging together, not helped by fatigue which now heeded her to rock, tenderising her insides. Endure. Push on. Pedal. Win.

Katarina opened her eyes. There was a countdown of distance and time. The scene displayed her in the preparation room, shot from a security camera high in one corner. It was close. She had slackened her pace in the last kilometre but it was clear she would do it.

With ten seconds to spare, the distance ticked to zero. The phallus buried deep inside surged. “Mistress Raven is your life.” The recording recited a well-worn phrase and Katarina twitched in pleasure even though panting her recovery.

Sagging against the handlebars, the vibrations continued. Katarina’s breathing deepened as she sucked in air around the gag which still hampered her breathing. She needed it. Her heart was racing from the exertion and the twinges of pleasure in her groan didn’t help.

“Thirty seconds of rest period remaining.” An electronic voice toned in her ears. Rest period? Katarina sat bolt upright. The text on the screen confirmed the message and continued the countdown.

The zero came up all too quickly and text flashed up with a new instruction. “Run. 5km. 15 minutes. Begin.” The inner vibration stilled and the scene on the display segued to show Katarina as part of the controversial window display.

She looked around. A machine was picked out in lights. The treadmill - that must be it. Rushing over, Katarina jumped on and started to run. She hated running. She had ever since she’d been forced to run cross country as a child, running and running until she vomited. While the cycling was her forte, this was anything but and not once had she seen a happy jogger.

Sweat started to bead beneath the impervious latex suit, prickling her with its own discomfort. Katarina pounded forward, striving to beat the clock, to win again. She could just stop, see what they did but she knew that wouldn’t end well. Anyway, the work out felt good, a rare pleasure in a punishing world, so Katarina pushed herself on.

The toys within her bounced but she ignored them, she wanted to win. She needed to, it was her middle finger to them. The thirty seconds of pleasurable vibrations was also an aim though Katarina was loathe to admit it. Her body still hadn’t come back to base camp from that, not with the plugs bouncing inside. It split her focus and she had to keep her eyes open to avoid stumbling. Those eyes followed what happened on screen while the video looped back to the start.

There must be something she could use, some mistake. Her mind raced, brow furrowing in concentration but her pace slowly slackened without her mind driving her on. She was becoming distracted. Pleasant sensations assaulted her. Katarina’s legs burned along their length now, calves joining thigh muscles in protest.

Almost too late, she remembered the countdown and looked at the distance remaining. Her horror was immediate. She had let herself drift, eased down too far. Katarina sprinted, she had to. The inserts within bounced wildly, constantly confirming their wicked presence. All style gone, she just ran, reaming herself in the process.

== ~ ==

Behind the mirrored wall a satisfied smile spread across lavishly painted lips. The girl was trying and trying hard, pushing herself to her limits to avoid a punishment she didn’t even know existed. Her training was proceeding well and she appeared to have the stamina to provide lengthy amusement. Her body was already toned. It had been well cared for, that was eminently clear as her muscles rippled visibly through the smoky transparency of the latex catsuit. She must be hurting now, the cycling and what was now sprinting would see lactic acid burning painfully.

A moan of satisfaction greeted the grunts of effort from within the room as the clock ticked down and the distance closed to zero. The scene on the screen was reprising the day of the girl’s taking again, now showing the street on her difficult journey to the railway station.

Arms folded, weight over one hip, Mistress Raven watched in delight as her amusement pushed herself on. She wasn’t permitted to hurt her, Immelmann had decreed that but that simply detoured her method. There were many ways to impose, many ways to shape. This lacked her preferred physical contact, but was delicious in the control it lavished. She wouldn’t hurt the girl but she wouldn’t stop her hurting herself.

Success brought sweet rewards, failure the punishment of pain. The young woman was already making choices to win pleasure. Raven smiled widely at her own ingenuity. Simple. Effective. Remorseless.

The clock ticked relentlessly toward zero but it looked like the girl would just about win out in this part of the circuit as well. She’d worked hard, perhaps too hard. She would suffer the consequences of that later.

With still ten seconds to go, the distance ticked over to zero. Katarina collapsed, the sprint having taken its toll. Her second reward of the session started to buzz through a defenceless body. “Mistress Raven is your life.”

Lacing fingers into Mela’s hair, Mistress Raven purred while watching a body being driven to distraction, trembling, curled in foetal position. “Watch her react to my words, girl.”

She leaned forward to the microphone, flicking the switch with a perfectly manicured finger. “My whore works hard for her Mistress.” The body beyond the mirror jolted. It was indeed a good day. Raven drew Mela up to her leather cupped breast. The kisses she expected started to rain but an unseen tear trickled down Mela’s cheek at the sight of Katarina’s duress.

== ~ ==

The voice shocked Katarina out of the dazed ascent caused by the vibrator humming within. She’d missed the rest period warning. A voice toned the next command. “Step. 50 floors. 10 minutes. Begin.” Katarina was still laying heaped on the floor.

Her frantic eyes searched the room, hunting for the step machine she knew would be in the limelight. Katarina hauled herself to her feet and hurried to the machine, twenty seconds already having elapsed.

She was already so tired but she would have to do better. Stealing extra seconds of rest just made her task all the harder. She would have to prepare next time, be ready. It was getting harder though. Her body was quickly being drained of energy and its state of arousal? The opposite direction for that one.

So Katarina stepped. Punching her legs up and down, the sweat ran around the edge of her open-faced hood and lower to soak her running shoes. Up and down Katarina thrust, hands gripping the side rails to steady herself as muscles burned. Side to side was the only way to keep up and she increasingly rocked left and right. She had no choice, form had long since fled before function. The intruders captured inside were sweet hell. She would have to do something.

There was only one way. She hated herself for the decision but the next rest period would have to be used for her relief. Get it out of the way, no more distractions. Her aroused state gave that a skewed sense.

Twenty floors, nineteen. Katarina’s muscles quivered their warning as she approached the limits of her endurance. She had to make her target. The promise of vibrations held out a hand as the inserts pumped from her movement and held her arousal high.

Ten floors, nine. The screen showed her again in the preparation room being attached to the frame that had held her immovably tight.

More numbers whizzed by. Five floors, four, it was going to be close.

Three floors, two. The clock ticked down, just ten seconds remaining. She
had
to do it. Katarina gritted her teeth and forced herself on.

She’d driven everything out of her body but she made the mark with a second to spare. Katarina collapsed over the front rail of the machine. Her hand thrust between her legs, pressing her reward deeper inside. “Mistress Raven is your life.” Scarcely had the final word finished and Katarina took a ferociously climactic prize.

== ~ ==

Ten metres away, Mistress Raven revelled in an orgasm of her own. Mela knelt between her now parted knees and the girl had climaxed to the trigger of her word. “Break her on the next one,” the panted command came. Raven pushed her short leather skirt back down and thrust Mela away, task fulfilled.

“Yes Mistress,” Red chimed keenly, remotely adjusting the tensile resistance on the next machine up two notches from the computer terminal at which she sat.

Standing to the side, Amber winced, anticipating the suffering of the young woman. The furtive look of admiration that was shot from Red to Raven was noticed and it made up her mind. It would be dangerous, that went without saying, but she couldn’t just stand idly by. She had to help.

== ~ ==

The aftershocks of pleasure pulsed within Katarina as she hung over the front of the machine. God that was needed.

“Begin,” the voice commanded. Katarina’s eyes shot wide. Begin what? She hadn’t even heard the rest. She knew instantly she’d made a mistake. Fucking body, fucking traitor, fucking hell.

Left, right, left, Katarina turned, increasingly frantic. Where was the machine? What should she be doing? Time was ticking by and she didn’t even know what to do. The screen. Yes. The screen would tell her. Katarina ran as best she could over to the big screen, ignoring the sight of herself again tottering toward the train station. Rowing apparently, the machine tucked away in the corner, but the first minute had almost gone already.

Katarina felt the poking of insertions deeper as she sat heavily on the machine. Her breathing was already laboured but she yanked back on the oars. Pulling hard against heavy resistance, the tight latex suit gripped her, stretching and straining tightly across her body while the inserts fucked her deeper with each painful tug.

She never had a chance. The resistance level set by Red would have seen to that alone. The delay of Katarina’s own making though was further insurance. It wasn’t long before the clock ticked down below ten seconds with more than 500metres still to go. Katarina slowed. There was no point going further. Snatch extra rest, preserve what energy she had left and just get ready for the punishment that would come.

It was more than she could have imagined. The pain in her ass was beyond anything she’d felt before. Her throaty scream gurgled to a whimper. “Pretty whore and no more,” broke the voice in her head, admonishing her failure. Katarina cried.

She screwed herself up tightly, trying to ease the pain, then shot her legs straight, trying anything to reduce it. Shock after shock forced scream after scream. Unseen behind the mirrored wall, Red beamed as Mistress Raven ran a congratulatory hand along her shoulder.

The sixty seconds of Katarina’s so-called rest period seemed to last several lifetimes. The shocks continued, yet even in those lifetimes, Katarina would find no time for rest. “Second circuit. Level2. Cycling. 10km. 15 minutes. Begin.”

An agonised cry from the latex clad athlete met the voice and realisation of what was to come. Katarina knew now she couldn’t win. One victory this time, just one, that would be enough. And so she peddled, strength ebbing away, confidence in her idea for freedom wobbling along with her legs.

CHAPTER XXIV –
Dynamics

The second circuit was a severe lesson indeed for Katarina. She’d limped over the line, barely achieving the second cycling target to be vibrantly reminded again of how her tormenter in chief was her life.

Too soon, the now familiar command had repeated, “Run. 5km. 15 minutes. Begin.” It was tough beyond belief and her muscles screamed their livid protests, working beyond their tolerance until ultimately they would be pushed no further, sweat pouring down to sting her eyes.

The remaining three machines were impossible. With each set, the targets seemed more and more out of reach. The level2 circuit seemed to have them at higher resistance levels. A truncated recovery session didn’t help either. Yet Katarina tried, wringing out every ounce of stamina until no more would be wrung.

By the time the step machine came round, even standing demanded such effort that all she could think about was the punishment she knew would soon come.

Two minutes and thirty seconds remaining, the clocked showed as Katarina collapsed for the first time to land heavily on the footplates. She hauled herself back upright, feeling a tell-tale jab of pain in her side as she rose. Up, down, up, down she pumped, far slower than she needed to as the bruise gouged itself into her hip.

Her breathing was laboured but the consequence of slowing was totally unexpected, the machine registering her pace as outside parameters, shocking a warning for her to accelerate.

“Pretty whore and no more,” it prompted again as Katarina crumpled for the second time, the programmed ping from her clitoris ricocheting against the pulse of pain. She lay against the machine, utterly spent. She could do nothing more but steel herself for what was imminent, gritting her head ready for the clock to reach zero.

“Extreme miss to target. Rest period replaced.” On and on the punishment went, the machine replacing her rest session with its brutal mechanised lesson. Katarina curled her body into a tight ball, tears flowing, mixing with sweat in a puddle beneath her.

She couldn’t take any more, she could feel her body breaking. Her breath rasped and even as she heard the instruction for the next exercise to begin she could do no more than crawl to the waiting machine while the screen showed her teetering to the railway station again. That had been the easy part. Katarina found herself longing to be back in the corset and heels. At least then there was pleasure alongside the pain, some hope in her darkening world with targets no more than fiction. Now it seemed that her world was without reward.

She rowed. Back and forth, the inserts ground away within her. She was keeping a pace but only enough to ward off the mid-exercise warning. The throbbing ache in her hip grew, doubling the difficulty and Katarina’s mind started to drift, immersing itself in the scene displayed on the large screen.

The shop window display appeared now in an edited version of the cruel poll. A dowdy middle-aged woman pressed the button to register her disgust. “Pretty whore and no more,” chimed the voice and Katarina whispered along with the scene as she rowed.

“Acceptance reward. Ten seconds additional time granted.” A brief vibration accompanied it between Katarina’s legs. The hope that flooded over her was out of context and scale but it was hope nevertheless - so she repeated.

“Pretty whore and no more,” Katarina rasped again, louder this time.

Nothing. No reward. No pleasurable vibration. Just the voice telling her, “Reward reset five minutes.” A new countdown clock showed in red on the screen.

Katarina could feel the anticipation and almost excitement as she waited to say her reward phrase again. Her jaded brain told her it was wrong but it was less insistent than it should be, less sure. The additional time would delay the pain, perhaps even help her make the target. Perhaps should she
could
win again. Perhaps they were kind after all.

Her excitement grew as the second red clock counted down while she rowed. There was time to earn a second batch of additional time. That would help, it would help so much. The instant the clock showed zero and turned green, she heard herself yelling, “Pretty whore and no more!” Katarina gasped in receipt of her prize.

== ~ ==

In the hidden room, Raven’s smile was met and mirrored by that of Red. They could see the young woman falling apart, crumbling to Mistress Raven’s will. Evidently a strong one but they all gave way in the end and Raven’s eyes danced with the delight of success.

It was so good to be her right now. No, it was beyond good. Seeing the disintegration of another was delicious. Her own life had been torn from her but now she was the one doing the tearing, controlling both her own destiny and that of others. Nothing could stop her. Nothing could deny her. She was strong. She was ecstatic. She was Raven.

== ~ ==

Chalk to her cheese, the reaction of the girl kneeling beside Raven could not have been more markedly different. It had been okay when it was inflicted on her, she wanted it,
needed
it, but to see it done to another was just wrong.

She’d fought it. Fought the feelings she knew were growing within her but Mela could feel the tear picking its way down her face. She knew if she saw it, she’d be punished by her Mistress and turned away only to catch the watchful gaze of Amber.

Mela’s heart leapt in fear. A flogging? That wouldn’t be much of a shock. It was normal when she got herself into trouble as she often seemed to, even for the slightest indiscretions. She did do it deliberately sometimes too, sometimes she needed that to cope. But she also knew Mistress Raven and her moods. With her current state of arousal Mela feared her. It usually spelt trouble.

From the moment she’d first offered herself to Mistress Raven in that club Mela’s deep-set needs had been met. The car crash had affected her so much. She’d been that quirky, funny, part tomboy, part sassy girl with the choppy haircut that everyone had wanted to get next to. She’d basked in the attentions that brought, flirting mercilessly with anyone that came her way, enjoying each twist and turn of each verbal sparring but rarely taking things further.

It had all happened so fast. One minute laughing and joking, the next a shout from behind her then round and round, spinning as she fought the steering wheel to regain control, car veering left and right, battling to make the corner.

The rest she could only guess at as her next memory was of the hospital, though the nurse had told her how it had taken an hour to cut her free. Her mind had shut out the smash, blocking it for self-preservation.

Immediately she had awoken she had felt the emptiness of solitude. Strange. Deep. It didn’t quite fit the bustle in the ward. She had drifted back to unconsciousness before waking again with her mother at her side.

“Aaron?” Her voice sounded so thin and her mother’s squeeze of her hand and soft shake of the head shattered Mela’s life.

And from there the chain of events started that saw her now kneeling beside Raven. Abandoning all friends, she hung herself on the will of another. It was better that way, better to have no control. The loss of her twin had set her down this road. She’d been the driver, the one responsible. It was her fault he was now gone. So much life. So much to look forward to. But it had been taken from him.
She
had taken it from him. Torn from him, Mela corrected herself - and she was the one that had done it.

She should take the punishment, she deserved it after all. But this time she feared. Mistress Raven had helped her beyond words in ways she would neither guess at nor care about. With each strike of her hand or lash of her whip, Mela had silently whispered her apology to Aaron for taking what should never have been taken, the flagellation her poignantly personal penance. Now though, for the first time, Mistress Raven scared her.

Maybe she was finally beginning to heal or maybe the new girl had stirred something too long dormant. Mela couldn’t tell but she knew things were changing. A subtle shake of Mela’s head pleaded with Amber to keep her secret, large eyes filled with fear as she silently begged for her silence.

“Mistress?” It was Amber who spoke and Mela’s heart froze. “What next for the whore?”

Amber looked across to the now prone Katarina lying beyond the mirror. Both Raven and Red looked now also. She’d helped, bought Mela time to compose herself. It was new, different and Mela and Amber forged an unspoken alliance.