Descent Into Darkness (4 page)

CHAPTER V - Left Turn

A
crowd closed in, watching the police officer try to drag her back upright onto unsteady legs. Katarina could feel saliva finding its way around the thick leather pad of her gag and trickling down her chin as her body refused to obey commands, still stunned by the debilitating effects of the Taser-delivered electricity.

Strange the scene certainly was too, particularly amidst a bland commute. A woman, shrouded against the cold, sunglasses and scarf hiding all but a sliver of her face and yet she sported impossibly high heels. Struggling with a train guard, she refused to answer questions or heed his warnings. Seemingly bent on delaying the train, she had some unknown purpose - perhaps she was part of a terrorist plan, perhaps she was merely insane. Certainly, she had not given up until the shock had dropped her.

A strong arm reached around Katarina’s narrowed waist and she was lifted onto legs which were deaf to commands to run. Supporting her, the man hauled her through the assembled onlookers. Dragged down the platform beside the now empty track, tears continued to flow down Katarina’s cheeks. These were not tears of pain, nor just of frustration, these were of both humiliation and relief, the only outward valve to release a myriad of emotions.

In her mind, she had pictured herself a slave. Her usual poise and control had already been stripped from her layer by layer and the sight of the train slowly pulling away had felt like a hundred hammers striking her heart. She was humiliated, bound and broken. He'd already taken her mind to places she'd never remotely dreamed of and Katarina feared both the creativity and control he'd displayed so well. At least she was now in the arms of the authorities, out of his clutches and a few hours of awkward explanation would hopefully see her free. But she would have to be careful. He was clearly a dangerous man and had an eye for her. For now at least though, she was safe.

Nearing the end of the platform the events of the last hour whirled in a maelstrom in her head. Had it really only been an hour since her shoot? She had learnt the lessons of a lifetime since the photographer had called a break and yet the station clock suspended above the concourse confirmed it was just sixty minutes and no more than that.

In sixty minutes she had felt elation, hope, discomfort, despair, orgasmic pleasure and countless other emotions. Katarina felt as if her soul was as spent as her body.

Hung from the officer's strong arm like nothing more than a doll, they threaded their way through the seething mass of the rush hour crowd. Some followed, eager to satisfy their curiosity but most drifted away to their trains and the same daily journeys home, this time spiced with an unusual story about an unusual woman who had tried to stop a train.

The glass door to the police office loomed closer. Katarina could see it clearly and was finally able to stumble a walk as the feeling and control started to return to her legs. The sobs behind her gag abated at the sight of figures inside - orderly, organised, authoritative. Safe.

Nobody followed now, not that she could see. The show was over, the woman gone. A glance behind would have shown Katarina a woman close by though, camera in hand - but she could not turn.

The strong steering hand on her waist and the officer's sharp veer to the left should have shot a warning to Katarina but her mind, still scrambled by the last hour, was slow to react. Even the renewed lapping within the benwa balls didn't herald a warning as she was already learning to partially ignore the stimulation constantly pummelling her body.

Only the blast of cold as they exited the station via a little used goods door snapped Katarina to her senses. The cold made her gasp, which in turn gave her an instant reminder of the constraints he had placed her in. The corset prevented her lungs from expanding, the steel stays gouged into her already chafed ribs. The crispness of the air pricked the slits of her exposed cheeks and sent shivers spiriting down her spine. Then, as they stood there, a chilling new direction revealed itself.

CHAPTER VI - Journey Into The Unknown

A woman
advanced, her face impassive. The slash of deep red lipstick across an expressionless mouth emphasised a steely gaze. Tall and slim, her features were finely chiselled to rival any catwalk model, a look echoed in the way she moved closer, authoritative yet effortless.

Stunning. That was the primary thought that crossed Katarina's mind as she stood motionless while the vision in black approached. The leather of the woman’s bustier gripped tight and nobody could miss the endless legs that slid through the slit in her long leather trench coat as she walked. Descending from her mid-thigh leather skirt, they disappeared into pointed knee high boots atop dangerous stiletto heels. This was no high street outfit. She oozed designer chic. Expensive. Elegant. Entrancing.

Katarina could see the woman talking to the police officer who had taken her from the platform. Katarina’s head held straight by the stringent collar that remained locked around her neck, her peripheral vision lacked much detail but she could tell that the conversation was animated.

An argument? Perhaps a negotiation? Yes. A negotiation. A thick envelope was passed from her to him. Maybe it was full of banknotes. An exchange? A sale.
Her
sale. The thought that she was being sold confused her. She should have felt appalled, disgusted, definitely shocked but it triggered other emotions, positive emotions that she was yet to understand.

A now familiar voice confirmed her new role. “She is instructed to take you, girl. You are hers until I decide otherwise,” he continued. “Behold the beauty that is your Mistress, Mistress Raven.” In the subsequent silence, Katarina was left to contemplate the magnitude of Immelmann’s words.

The tornado in her head was spinning out of control now. He was still controlling her. This was part of Immelmann’s plan, this wasn’t an escape. Mistress? The implications of that were also clear. This was no role-play, this was real. Perhaps this was to titillate him – the bastard had manipulated her like a plaything and she had played right along. She was still his, about to be loaned out for his amusement.

Would she not be more than titillated herself though, being under the sway of such a stunning woman? As the thought settled on Katarina, common sense and self-preservation battled only briefly with her base desires - perhaps it wouldn’t be
that
bad.

First the hat, then the glasses were stripped off and handed to the man, interrupting him counting his pay. The scarf was unwound and the coat ripped away as Katarina’s new Mistress sought to assess her purchase in person for the first time. An almost imperceptible nod confirmed acceptance and the man removed the uniform that had deceived all in the station, spun and scurried away.

Teetering in her impossible heels, Katarina steeled herself for her fate. She stood erect, the only show of defiance she could offer. Her Mistress closed the gap between them so they were toe to toe, breasts lightly meeting, separated only by layers of leather and latex. A leather gloved hand gripped Katarina's jaw, forcibly turning her head slightly left, then right. The posture collar bit harshly into her neck as Mistress Raven coldly analysed her new toy.

“You
will
follow me, girl.” Katarina saw her lips move and this time, a woman's voice commanded through the earphones. She had access just as Immelmann had. This was all scripted. She was still a puppet to his intricately directed play.

The leash she clipped to the collar left Katarina no option but to follow her newly appointed Mistress. The first tug unbalanced her in the sky-high ballet heels, and despite pulling back, she teetered inexorably forward, bending in an enforced stoop of deference that crushed her ribs.

A dark van with blackened windows drew up to the curb right on cue. The side door slid back and Mistress Raven confidently stepped inside without the merest pause to her fluid moves, drawing the leashed Katarina in behind her.

The tyres squealed as the driver gunned quickly away, the sudden motion causing Katarina to fall onto the van's side bench, drilling the butt plug deeper inside. A belt was drawn across her lap, anchoring her in place. Her head was drawn up by the leash now doubled around a hook in the roof. Immobile, she was being sped to her fate.

Left ... right ... left ... a bridge, or was it just a rise in the road ... left and quick left again, or at least she thought it was but couldn't now be sure. The vibrations from the engine were stirring the benwa balls into an almost frenzied activity within. Slowly, Katarina slipped to distraction, growing more disorientated as her aroused body again demanded the attention of her mind. Left … oh … straight … oh God!

Opposite what remained of Katarina, sat her Mistress, watching her as a hawk would a mouse. Her eyes didn't wander, didn't deviate, as her prey started to lose herself to the perpetual motions within. A hint of a smile played across her lips. There was torment within her new girl whose eyes were now closed to focus on a screaming need.

Difficult as it was to track the moves through darkened windows, the self- preserving priority to concentrate on the route flickered before finally giving way to an entirely different need as her body built towards an irresistible crescendo of carnal climax.

“Good girl, let go,” Mistress Raven soothed through the earphones. “Make the most of it. It’s the last time you will be allowed without my explicit permission.” And as silence folded around Katarina again, her world melted behind an orgasmic veil.

CHAPTER VII - The Rigger

A
metallic grating startled Katarina as the door of the van was roughly hurled back. Opening her eyes, she looked straight into those of her new Mistress as the leash was taken from the hook and lap belt released. Without a word, the woman spun on her high heels, yanking the leash to have Katarina follow. Katarina had slept - more like passed out - and with that all hope of tracing the route had gone. As it was dark now, they could have driven for hours for all she knew. She was lost, along with another element of hope.

The leather stretched tightly over her rounded ass as Mistress Raven stooped to exit the van. Even under two layers of leather and who knows what else secretly concealed beneath, Katarina could tell this was a lady in fine shape. Tall, confident, elegant, stunning. All the characteristics of a photo fit Domme.

With a tug of the leash, Katarina slipped to one knee then tried to struggle to her feet, heels sliding on the van's steel floor. An impatient yank urged her forward.

At this time of year, Katarina had expected to be struck with the chill of night but the air was comfortable and still. Looking around, even through the unlit gloom, she could now work out that they were in a building. The van had been driven inside and the building’s doors shut tight, leaving no chance for her to get her bearings. It could have been day or night, summer or winter. All she knew was that she was here – she just didn’t know where here was.

Katarina stood upright when the pressure from her leash stopped. Not wholly dark, she could make out Mistress Raven ahead of her, waiting. A door cracked open on what she could now see was a truck loading dock. Light spilling from the opening, a shadowy figure first emerged, then approached.

Petite and feminine, as the girl drew close, Katarina could discern elfin features. Stopping a short distance away, the girl dropped to one knee before Mistress Raven, lowering her head in deference to what was obviously her dominant. The girl nodded courteously, apparently receiving instructions, then kissed the offered leather clad hand and rose to her feet, eyes cast low, head remaining bowed.

Katarina closed her eyes, focussing inwardly on her predicament. She hadn't felt her arms since entering the station and her insides felt like they'd just boxed twelve rounds. Hunger pangs gnawed at her stomach. She wished she'd taken the chance of snacking on the food laid out at the shoot but no, she was a model and had to watch her weight. Had she really been a model? She doubted now she ever was.

That seemed like a lifetime ago, though it could have been no more than a few hours. Two? Three? Four? She had no idea as the sleep she'd plunged into in the van had robbed her of even that touch point. She didn’t feel refreshed but that didn’t mean anything, who could feel refreshed bound as she was, no matter how long they’d slept?

A model. The word replayed in her head as if taunting her. Her dream had crumbled. Life's rollercoaster had built her up from the depths only to really hurl her down
this
time.

“My slave will prepare you.” Mistress Raven's voice broke in on Katarina’s thoughts. Her eyes snapped open in time to see the slender woman sashaying away while the tug on her leash told her she was under the command of yet another.

The elfin girl couldn’t be much more than five feet tall and yet, bound as she was, Katarina could do nothing but be led. Up the ramp she stuttered, toward the show of light cast from the door. She knew she should be resisting but what was the point? The bite from her imperious heels was beginning to agonise anyway and it was task enough just to walk.

Reaching the door, without pause they entered. The bright neon lights of the room seared Katarina’s eyes before they adjusted to the harsh, almost surgical, glare. Slowly she took in her new surroundings. Clinical white tiles covered both floor and walls, broken only by a central grate and a single door on the far side. A chain hung in the centre of the room and immediately, Katarina guessed her destination.

The tiles gently sloped to the single grate. They were slippery, or at least it seemed so as she slithered and struggled to stay upright. There was scant patience in the elfin girl though and she dragged Katarina to the centre point of the room with little thought for her difficulties before finally unclipping the leash.

A raised finger silently told her to stand still as the girl crossed to the wall and slid aside a panel. Returning, Katarina felt the girl fumble with her collar but, with her head held erect by the stiff leather, she could only guess at her work as the chain suspended from the ceiling danced before her eyes.

Back to the wall panel. Katarina’s eyes followed the girl as she busied herself then turned to check her handiwork. In her peripheral vision, Katarina could see the cute girl bathed in the brilliant white light of the room but try as she might, her neck refused to turn in the collar’s firm grasp. She seemed to
look
like the average attractive girl you'd pass in the street. Tidily made up, yet not stunning in the way of Mistress Raven. She could be your friend, your sister, the flirty office girl that everyone loved. And yet there was something else. Something different, something deeper. The thick buckled collar around her neck named her as Mela and told knowing eyes enough.

A hint of something was dancing in Mela’s eyes. Malice perhaps? That at least would fit the bill but Katarina couldn’t be sure. Still effectively deafened, Katarina didn't hear the whir of a motor. It was only when it started to reel in the chain that she knew of it with a pull on her neck. This was different to being led. Mechanical, the winch had no consideration for its effect and Katarina's eyes widened as her tired body was stretched upward. Straightening her legs, then back and straining as best she could, she made a desperate attempt to ease the pressure on her neck.

Pleadingly, Katarina looked at the girl, who returned the look with a devilish smile. Higher. Higher. The motor wound in the chain until Katarina could stretch no more and even her hellish heels barely brushed the floor. She could barely touch the ground to ease the pressure. Katarina would soon choke.

Satisfied and with perfect judgement, the cute devil abruptly stopped the motor. Katarina was left barely supported, able to stretch one leg, but not both, to the floor to temporarily lessen the pressure on her neck

The strain eased as the motor reversed and feelings of relief washed over Katarina who relaxed into a less stringent stance. The relief was short-lived. The girl punched the button and Katarina was drawn once more precisely to her fully stretched height. Her eyes pleaded an acknowledgement - she was held there at the whim of the girl.

A third time. A fourth. The girl repeated the process, revelling in the control of another she was seldom allowed. Finally, she settled the chain length at a midpoint. Not immediately uncomfortable, both Katarina and the girl knew she would not hold the position so firmly upright for long. The discomfort would build. Slowly at first, Katarina knew in time even this would be as harsh as the stretched position. The anticipation of that discomfort would make it all the more severe, mercilessly playing on both body and mind.

Apparently satisfied now, the girl returned and brandished a small brass key into Katarina’s field of vision, smiling impishly before disappearing again below her line of sight.

Katarina started as she felt the girl fumbling between her legs. ‘Oh God, no, not again,’ her head screamed in protest as she felt fingers active in areas already tenderised and inflamed. A shock came in feeling the taught latex peel back as the zip was drawn upwards, exposing her to the tormentor. She thought her humiliation could not increase but she was wrong. Very wrong.

A white piece of paper was held up before her eyes. It said just one word, 'PEE'.

She couldn't do it. She wouldn't. This was too much. Too far. The sign was withdrawn and a moment later held before her afresh. 'PEE - LAST CHANCE'. There was little choice. Who knew when she would get the chance again. Face flushing scarlet with embarrassment, Katarina forced her bladder to relax before the stranger and with the flushing away of any last vestige of pride, she peed on command.