A few months later, Drew Thrasher awoke one morning to find the sun streaming through the curtains of her luxurious townhouse flat in the tony Morningside district of Edinburgh.
She stretched and yawned. She could hear the hiss of a steam iron being used not far away. She smiled and turned over in the bed to watch her slavegirl dutifully ironing her clothes of the day. Even her panties.
"Don't dare scorch my panties!" Drew warned playfully.
"No, Mistress!" Tai Anne Roper said with a earnest seriousness. She knew Mistress Drew was joking, but she also knew that she could be arse up over her lap in a New York second.
Tai Anne was naked, as she always was before Mistress Drew awakened. She was tanned and curvy as always, but the months of enforced corset and posture training had given her a true wasp waist and a delicate gracefulness that she had lacked while living in America.
"I'll be taking my bath now." Drew got out of bed and shrugged off her nightgown. Naked, Drew went to Tai and allowed herself an indulgent deep kiss and a gentle palming of Tai's already wet cunt that caused the slavegirl to shiver with desire.
Tai followed her Mistress to the bathroom and helped her shower. This included kneeling on the shower tiles between the hissing jets of steaming water and giving Drew her first orgasm of the day.
After they dried off, Tai assisted her Mistress with her clothes. It was to be a casual day at home. That meant a satin BaliSong bra and panty set, tailored, gray wool slacks and a white silk blouse with an open neck.
Tai knealt at her Mistress' feet to gently place her socks and flat-soled leather boots on her feet. She then kissed each boot with reverence.
Drew patted her slavegirl's head affectionately and then went to get the leather straps. It was now time for Tai to get dressed for the day.
A few minutes later, Tai was suspended by a pulley by her bound wrists, her body stretched and her toes a bare inch from the ground.
She gritted her teeth and expelled her breath as Drew tightened her shiny, corset of deep brown saddle leather around her belly. After the final cinch was knotted off, she was lowered to the floor.
Tai stood there with arms at her side and legs akimbo while Drew finished her off with wide leather shoulder straps and finally the thick leather cuntstrap that went between her legs and lifted and separated her bottomcheeks.
Unable to bend at the waist, Tai took short, little breaths as she carefully lay on the bed. Now it was her Mistress who kneeled before her and rolled up her black silk stockings which were tightly gartered to her corset, followed by locking, brown leather ankle boots with impossible heels. They were also connected with a ten-inch chain.
Drew finished by combing out her slavegirl's long mane of shiny, raven black hair, adding a little cherry red lipgloss and putting some rouge on her cheeks and nipples.
While Tai was making breakfast, Drew sat at the kitchen table reading the Edinburgh Echo and thinking about how her life had changed since she had taken Tai as her slave for life.
Certainly it had changed her perspective on her career. After winning the Pulitzer Prize for her BBC reports on the Saudi Royals and the McClintock incident, the world had been her oyster. She had fielded offers from almost every hallowed journalistic institution - both print and electronic media - on the planet.
But instead, she had decided to leave London and settle back in her hometown of Edinburgh, were she was writing a book on her adventures.
The phone rang, and Tai answered it, speaking softly and then walking carefully to Drew in her heels.
"Mistress, it's Ms. Rowlings. She wants to know if you would like to be the keynote speaker at the Highlands Literary Club Tea a week from Thurday?"
Drew smiled. "Tell J.K. I'll be happy to attend, but only if she'll give me a peek at the galley proofs of Harry Potter and the Enchanted Chamberpot."
Tai nodded and walked back to the phone. Drew put the paper down and watched the sway of her perfect bottom. Between the effects of the corset, the cuntstrap and the heels, it was a wonder to behold.
Tai hung up the phone. "She said she'd have a courier drop it by today, Mistress."
"Tai..." Drew put her paper down and walked to her slavegirl, wrapping her arms around her. "I do love you. More than anything... or anyone."
Tai smiled and kissed her. "Then I guess it's a shame that this is all just another lousy dream sequence, huh?"
"Arrrrrrrrrrgh..." Drew Thrasher woke up. She was in bed next to a sleeping - snoring actually - Dani Hall. She was still in Fanni's cabin in the wilds of New Jersey. It was still night too. Drew looked at the luminious hands of her Rolex and saw it was just after 3 in the am. Bloody fucking hell.
Wait, Jeb should've made it here by now!
Drew rolled out of bed, finding her leather short-shorts and leotard where she had left them. She shrugged her clothes on and shivering slightly from the chill of the night, silently went out to the cabin's large living room, where the remains of a large fire still crackled in the fireplace.
She found Jeb Stuart on the couch, using his Sony Powerbook to scroll through the CNN website.
"Howdy, partner," Drew said.
"Drew!" Jeb grinned and got up, giving her a warn hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Glad to see you're safe and sound!"
"Thanks to you."
He laughed. "And Fanni and Dani."
"Indeed." They sat down on the couch together. Drew nodded at the laptop. "Anything new?"
"The press is having a goddamned field day." Jeb turned the laptop about so that Drew could see the screen.
There was a picture of the late Matt McClintock, and a pretty good pic of Tai Anne Roper that looked like it was cropped from her bondage website. Drew scrolled down to read the article
Bondage Model Sought in Murder of Matthew McClintock
by Fielding Melish
San Francisco Police today confirmed that a Los Angeles woman named Tai Anne Roper is their prime suspect in the murder of Matthew McClintock, founder and CEO of McClintock Industries, one of the biggest biotech firms in North America. He also ran the lucrative Ororo line of cosmetics. His net worth was estimated at over 500 million dollars.
McClintock was found dead Wednesday afternoon aboard his yacht, which was anchored in San Francisco Bay. Eyewitness accounts allege that he was fatally shot by Tai Anne Roper, who also severely wounded a member of McClintock's private security detail before escaping on a speedboat to a marina in nearby Tiburon.
McClintock, who was 59, was well known as a genetic researcher interested in extending human life. He was married for 20 years to well-known actress Fiona Jacklin before their divorce in 1983. They had one child, daughter Jessica, who is 19 and lives with her mother.
The prime suspect in McClintock's murder, Tai Anne Roper, was reportedly a romantic acquaintance of his. She is the 19 year-old daughter of well-known gay rights activists Glenna Jane Roper and Dr. Yoshiko Katsuhara Roper of Santa Cruz, California. She also has her own pornographic 'bondage' website on the internet.
"Blah blah bullshit." There was more, but Drew turned off the laptop with disgust. "Never underestimate the ability of the fourth estate from sinking to the lowest common denominator!"
"To be fair, we don't know how much of this is being generated by Weskler's people," Jeb said.
"True." Drew sighed. "So what do you make of what we got out of Weskler's operative?"
"It's a gold mine," Jeb said simply. "We know now that he's as hyped on creating a fountain of youth as McClintock was. Even if it is to create a race of Amazonian uber-women."
"Another rich man intent on having Jessica as his new lab rat," Drew said. "He obviously intends to steal her away from Fiona Jacklin."
"Yes, but mounting an attack on this Clark Reznik estate where Jessica is being kept is no small potatoes," Jeb replied. "Still if Will Tanner-Hyde is his field operative... it can be done."
"So, we just steal Jessica away first!" Drew said.
"Yeah." Jeb nodded. "But first - with your help - I want to muddy the waters a bit."
"What can I do?"
"Tomorrow I'll take you into New York. Tell your bosses at the BBC that you have the story of the year." He held up the sheath of papers they had purloined from Callista Horlicks. "Then show them these."
"They'll never see the light of day," Drew warned. "Not with Weskler's juice."
"I know that," Jeb replied. "But he'll have to expend considerable 'juice' - not to mention time and capital - to sweep this mess under the rug. And that's when I'll move in to snatch Jessica away from her momma."
Jeb shrugged. "James Bond's got nuthin' on the Jebmiester!"
Drew suddenly gasped and stood up, a look of concern on her face. Jeb was instantly standing by her with his Hk-23 pistol already in hand.
"I thought I..." she shook her head. "Nothing... I thought I saw a face at that window."
Jeb walked to the window and drew back the curtains a bit more. It was still pitch dark outside, without even the first hint of the new day. Jeb saw nothing.
"I 'spose I was mistaken."
"I wouldn't worry about it," Jeb said. "When you're stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, everybody gets jumpy. Besides, Fanni has the surrounding woods well boobytrapped. Nothing gets in or out without her knowing about it."
"Where is Fanni anyway?" Drew asked.
"In one of the guest rooms keeping an eye on Ms. Horlicks." Jeb holstered his pistol. "I hear I'm going to have to come up with a false identity for this bitch."
"It's only fair, she did come clean with us."
"After Fanni tortured her," Jeb reminded her. "But a promise is a promise."
Outside the cabin, Ana Puma peered back through the window, carefully reading the lips of the man and the woman. She didn't know who this 'Jeb' was, but that definitely was one of the targets, Drew Thrasher, that he was chatting up.
Catlike, she creeped along the side of the cabin to where Una Puma waited by another window. Through a gap in the curtains, Ana saw a woman asleep in a bed, while a blonde woman dozed fitfully while being roped to a chair next to the bed.
The blonde was gagged and well-tied. Ana always admired a pro job. Tight cinches at wrists, elbows and shoulders married her to the chair, while more rope kept her knees and ankles together.
She also looked like target 2, Callista Horlicks.
Ana and Una crept away from the cabin, avoiding the tripwires and cute traps that someone had set. They hunkered down under a tree.
"So what now?" Una asked.
"Wait til just before dawn, then we take 'em," Ana replied. "Kill the old lady and the man. Give Weskler the two he wants... and keep the girl for ourselves."
Una licked her lips. "You've seen her?"
"Yeah, she's asleep in the far bedroom. She's ripe as a cherry!" Ana giggled. "She'll make a perfect fucktoy for us!"
Sue Kaminsky had stayed naked except for her leather armbinder, leg shackles, latex eye blinders and ballgag for her whole plane trip from New York to God-knows-where.
After a flight that felt three or four hours long, she was led out of the plane and right into the trunk of a car, where the loop at the end of her leather armbinder was padlocked to her shackle chain, effectively hogtying her.
An hour's or so bumpy ride passed. She spent it trying to imagine what her fate could be, and if she would ever get her life back.
Finally the car came to a stop and she was pulled out by invisible hands on to what felt a soft, marshy ground.
It was warm, where ever she was. Hot and muggy as hell. She could hear a multitude of wildlife around her. Birds, crickets... things that chirped and caawed and howled.
A male hand took Sue gently by the shoulder and led her from the soft ground to a floor of wooden planks. She could hear water lapping a shore. Things moving about in the water around her. Big things. Things that were hissing and growling. Where the fuck am I?
"Okay, girl," a male voice with a southern drawl commanded. "Jus' stay still an' don't do nuthin' too stoopid."
The armbinder and shackles were removed. Sue kept her arms by her side as the blinder and ballgag were peeled away as well.
Sue opened her eyes. It was still night, but a few, very bright klieg lights illuminated the area well, revealing to Sue that she was on a small island in the middle of a large, swampy pond full of live alligators.
She screamed. There had to be hundreds of them, shifting and swimming about. Around the pond was a high cyclone fence with some old wooden buildings just beyond that. The island itself was very small, with the only structure being a small, ramshackle wooden shack.
"Don't worry none, girl!" Sue saw that the man who had escorted her here was a middle-aged 'Good Ole Boy' who needed a bath, a shave and a trip to a good dentist. "Y'don't bother 'em none, 'n dey don't bother you! I'll be back fer ya in awhile... try to get some sleep, and don't lissen none to thet crazy girl who's in thet shack... she tain't nuthin' but trouble!"
Sue watched as he walked back the way they had come, across a rickity wooden plank that extended from the shore to the island, which was then pulled back to leave her trapped.
The alligators seemed interested in her, but couldn't get through the rusty stakes of sharpened rebar that had been set into concrete around the island.
Backing up, Sue Kaminsky made it into the shack and slammed the door behind her.
"Well, hi there, roomie!"
Sue yelped and turned. A dangling 40 watt bulb revealed that there was another naked woman in the shack, lounging on a small cot with one ankle shackled to the iron frame and her hands behind her back.
Sue thought she was quite beautiful. Late teens to early twenties. An olive skinned Asian mix, with long, greasy black hair and a superb body. With her arms tight behind herself, her large, round breasts seemed to be thrusting right at Sue.
"Who are you and where the hell are we?' Sue demanded.
"Well, my name is Tai Anne Roper... and I don't know where the hell we are either," she replied. "Jiminy Crickets, I just got here myself!"
Sue sighed. "Great." She looked outside through the wooden planks that made up the shack. The gators seemed to have settled down.
"If you're thirsty there's a spigot in the corner," Tai Anne offered. "Water is clean and good and cold. That hole in the other corner is what passes for a toilet here... Motel 6 this ain't!"
"Thanks." Sue turned the spigot and drank deep. The water was good and cold. She then filled her hands and scrubbed at her face and body. Tai Anne thought she had a nice ass and boobies.
"So who are you?" Tai asked.
"Sue Kaminsky." She looked at Tai, her long red hair streaming in her face. "Detective 2nd Grade, New York City Police Department."
"Wooohooo! Color me impressed."
Sue sat down next to her. There was something about this girl that she liked. "So how did you end up in this garden spot?"
"Long story short," Tai said. "I'm a private eye working out of San Francisco. That's where I was framed for the murder of a man named Matt McClintock by an asshole named Will Tanner-Hyde, who's working for a really rich asshole named Joseph Weskler. I was then abducted, put on a private jet and ended up here in Hotel Hell. How 'bout you, copper?"
"That's interesting," Sue muttered. "In New York, I think I was framed for the murders of some cops and a mob informant named Vincent Cundalini. Then I was abducted and molested by a couple of crazed lezbos, put on a private jet... and ended up here as well."
"MMmmm... sounds like Weskler wants all his patsies in one basket."
Sue's eyes narrowed. "This Weskler... You tawkin' 'bout the guy who owns all those health spas and mall vitamin stores? Thats the guy who kidnapped us?"
"Well, he kidnapped moi," Tai said.
"Great." Sue looked behind Tai's back and saw that her wrists were joined by a pair of hinged handcuffs. "So how come they hooked you up and left me free?"
"Ummmm... I guess cuz I tried to escape a little while ago. Almost made it too!"
Sue looked at her with new respect. "Really? And how the hell did you do that?"
"Well, this whole 'trapped on a tiny island surrounded by alligators' scenario reminded me of a scene in this James Bond movie where Roger Moore was in a similar predicament. I think it was in Live and Let Die..."
"Waitasec... you tawkin' 'bout the scene where he makes it from the island to the shore by jumping on the backs of the alligators?"
"Yeah. But it didn't work for me," Tai said. "I did get about halfway there, but then this gator shifted and I fell in. Earl and some of the others extended that plank and drove the gators off with sticks and cattleprods. Earl said I was lucky I didn't lose an arm or a leg."
"Jeeeeezus!" Sue's look of respect shifted to wariness. That guy was right, she was crazy.
"Anywhooo... Earl put me back here and cuffed me up. He's not a bad sort. I think he was more worried than pissed off."
"Is Earl the good old boy who brought me out here?"
"That's him. He owns this gator farm. It's prolly a transit point for Weskler's white slaver operations."
"Slaver operations?" Sue's eyes went wide. "Listen, do you know anything about a woman named Valerie Corder?"
"Nope, never heard of her."
Sue sighed again. So far they had nothing in common except that they were both prisoners here.
She looked around at her surroundings. "Keeeeerist... we could be anywhere from Mexico to the Carolinas..."
"I vote for south Florida," Tai said. "Prolly the Everglades. I saw some palm trees and sawgrass outside. Also, Earl is wearing a Miami Dolphins ballcap."
"Well I guess you are a private eye," Sue said. She leaned back on her side of the cot and shut her eyes.
"Here, let's get comfy." Tai scooted over and laid down. Sue looked at her, taking in her long, lean form and curves.
"Tai... Look, I want you to know I'm no dyke."
"That's okay, I am."
"Oh." Sue's face flamed red. "Sorry about the lezbo crack."
"I've heard worse," Tai shrugged. "Actually I consider myself bi... but everytime I meet a nice guy he's either married, gay or about to be murdered."
Sue shuddered and swung her feet into the small cot, lying down next to Tai. She was hopelessly wet. And it was all the fault of those fucking Puma bitches who had trained her to drool at girls like one of Pavlov's doggies.
"Damn you are fine lookin'," Sue whispered. She was amazing herself with her own actions. Here I am about to be sold into slavery or maybe turned into gator bait, and all I can think about is doing the nasty with this crazy girl!
Sue arched forward, their lips almost touching.
"If you want to kiss me, then kiss me," Tai husked. "I'm the one in chains... you're the one who going to have to do all the grunt work."
Sue Kaminsky groaned and grabbed double handfuls of Tai's breasts, kissing her long and deep. Tai moaned in pleasure, moving on to her back and spreading her legs while Sue climbed on top and rubbed one leg across Tai's hot, shaved cunt.
Sue broke from the kiss with Tai frantically sucking on her tongue.
"My Gaaaaawd." Sue looked down at the panting, wild-eyed girl under her. "What am I doing?"
"I dunno," Tai wheezed. "But do it faster."
Tai Anne Roper had been right about one thing, Earl's Gatorland was indeed in south Florida, just off Highway 41 - otherwise known as the Tomiami Trail - and only about thirty miles west of Miami, deep in the Everglades.
At 3:30 in the morning, an exhausted Samarkand pulled into the gravel parking lot in his Hertz rental, where a blinking neon sign welcomed him to EARL'S GATORLAND! MORE FUN! MORE THRILLS! MORE GATORS!
"Oy gevalt!" Samarkand got out of the car and stretched, scratching his ass as he walked towards the ramshackle collection of buildings that surrounded the gator pond. His ice cream suit was beginning to look a bit wilted, but his red fez looked as good as ever.
"Hey, Sam the man!" Earl greeted him at the door eating from a skewer of roasted meat. "Wanna taste?"
He frowned. "What is it?"
"Lil Sammy," Earl replied. "A young gator we hadda skin early. He's good 'n tender too! Like bitin' into a baby's bottom!"
"Thanks for the visual," Sam replied. "Pass."
Samarkand moved past the closed souveneir counters where you could buy everything from tiny, stuffed baby alligators to a pair of $500 dollar alligator-skin boots.
Samarkand reached the air-conditioned control center and was surprised to find Will Tanner-Hyde himself lounging about with a glass of iced tea in hand, watching a monitor where two girls were busy doing the horizontal mambo.
Samarkand squinted at the small screen. "You get the Spice Channel on that thing?"
"No, idiot," Tanner-Hyde replied. "This is happening real time. Out in the holding shack."
As the bodies shifted, Samarkand finally recognized Tai Anne Roper from when they had met in San Francisco last weekend at Matt McClintock's hotel suite. He also recognized the New York cop he had purchased from the Puma Sisters.
"I heard that Tai Anne was going to take the fall for McClintock," Samarkand said. "I'm glad to see she's still alive."
"That wasn't my call." Tanner-Hyde lit a Cuban cigar with his gold Dunhill lighter. "If I'd had my way, she'd be fish food by now."
Samarkand looked at Tanner-Hyde with disgust. What's the goddamn point of being a white slaver if you can't appreciate fine girlflesh? Philistine!
"By the by," Tanner-Hyde asked. "I thought you were supposed to stay in New York. What happened?"
"Change of plans," Samarkand replied. "After I dropped off the ladycop at JFK, I went to pick up a package for Valerie Corder - just like Weskler wanted me to - But when I got there, Michelle of the Mounties showed up with a Fed in tow."
"Qwan..." The way Tanner-Hyde growled her name let Samarkand know that he had allowed her to get under his skin on another occasion. "What happened?"
"She and this Fed burned through Corder's sizable security contingent with ease. They got the 'package', and I barely got out with my life."
"Valerie Corder will be pissed," Tanner-Hyde chuckled.
"So I caught the next flight south via Air Weskler, landed at Naples and took a rental car here." Sam looked down at Tanner-Hyde. "What about you? I thought you were staying in SF?"
"Another change of plan, Sam," Tanner-Hyde said. "After I see what - if anything - these two bimbettes know, Weskler wants me to go to New York, to start the re-acquistion of one Jessica McClintock."
"You want me to join you?" Sam asked.
"No, New York will be too hot for you." Tanner-Hyde paused, like a chess player considering where to move a strategic piece. "I want you to stay in Miami for now. Just in case any of Ms. Roper's myriad of friends try to rescue the damsel fair."
"Sure!" Samarkand grinned. A long weekend cruising the nightspots in South Beach for nubile young hardbodies sounded just fine with him. He just hoped he had brought along enough handcuffs and ballgags.
Kunta Kintare woke up with a splitting headache and a sour taste in her mouth. She licked her lips as she looked around at her new surroundings.
She was in a small room of stainless steel panels, with no windows or obvious exit. The corners were rounded off and a light source seemed to be coming from between the panels themselves.
Kunta stood up. She was naked, her long dreadlocks wild about her face. She felt her body. No sign or feeling of being probed or assaulted. She wasn't even sore from her previous assault on the assholes who ran this place.
This place, Kunta thought. What exactly is this place? She remembered being kidnapped from Marina Green by that little Jap bitch while waiting for Tai... and that was it. Who the hell would want to kidnap her?
Kunta Kintare had not always been Paige Torne's musclegrrl. She was African. Born and raised in Mogadishu as the ruthless daughter of a badass Somali warlord. After her father's empire had crumbled, she had escaped to America to start a new life.
Paige Torne had given her that new life... after first enslaving her and breaking her of her old ways that her father had taught her. For that, she would always be grateful.
In a control pod not far away, Nurse Juliette Odie, aka Toadie, studied the new subject on one of the Wildfire Clinic's many vid monitors. She was alone in the pod, since Dr. Katrina Karimzakov had long since collapsed back in her bed in a Vodka induced slumber.
Toadie bit her lip and squeezed her latexed thighs together as she watched the muscular black woman move about. What a body! Deep mahogany skin. Huge, natural breasts topped with ripe cherry nipples. A washboard tummy, a big round ass and mile-long legs. A true Amazon bitch.
She watched the subject try a few kicks at the walls. Not even a dent.
Toadie used to feel guilty about enjoying the torture of humans... afterall, they did have higher brain functions than the dogs and cats she had practised on in her youth.
But Dr. K had finally convinced her that getting sexual stimulation from sadistic acts were merely another perk of the job. In other words, sit back and enjoy it.
Toadie smiled and spoke carefully into the microphone that would let Kunta Kintare hear her voice.
"Subject will now obey all commands, or face punishment," she said primly.
Kunta stopped her kicking and looked around, trying to figure out where that female voice was coming from.
"Fuck you," she replied to the walls.
Toadie pressed a button and a jagged blue streak of electricity jumped out of nowhere and struck Kunta, knocking her on her ass. Kunta rolled into a ball, weeping from the intense pain, as a burning fire raced through every muscle in her body and finally faded.
"Subject will obey all commands, or be punished," Toadie said again. She licked her lips and hiked up her white latex skirt to scrub at her rubbery cunt with her fingers.
Kunta got to her feet, her hands still shaking. She was strong and stubborn to a fault, but she also knew when to fight and when to hold back.
"Okay," she growled. "What do you want?"
"Subject will advance to the two steel posts and place her hands on them."
Before Kunta could ask, What posts?, two shiny steel posts silently rose out of the stainless steel
floor and stopped at about four feet. They were spaced about three feet apart.
I got a bad feeling about this, Chewie! Kunta thought. But she advanced to the posts and placed her hands on them anyway, palms down.
"Subject will place her feet on the indicators on the floor."
Kunta looked down and saw two foot shaped pads. One beside each post. If she put her feet there, her legs would be pretty far apart.
She complied. Aware that her verdant bush and ripe cunt were on display.
"Subject will now close her eyes... or risk permanant blindness."
Kunta closed here eyes tightly. She then heard a metallic humming and a brief sensation of thousands of little bugs crawling over every inch of her body. it lasted about three seconds.
"Subject can open her eyes now and step to the cleansing area."
Kunta opened her eyes and screamed as she saw her reflection in the stainless steel walls. She was white from head to toe. Not caucasion, but a chalky, fishbelly white. Even her hair. All of her hair.
She looked down and brushed at her large breasts. The white was like a fine ash that covered her body. Under that ash her skin was still it's usual, dark cocoa color.
"Subject will not be alarmed," the voice said. "Part of the cleansing proscess is the painless removal of the first epidermal layer of skin... and all hair follicles."
"What?" Kunta cried.
Wide-eyed, she touched her dreadlocks and found that they too had been turned to ash, crumbling in her fingers to reveal her terribly bald head.
Oh yeah... better get used to that look, bitch, Toadie thought as she rubbed herself to a wet and rubbery orgasm. Cuz it's forever!
Kunta's fingers went to her bush. That hair also crumbled to reveal her bare cunt.
"Nooooooooo..." She wiped tears from her eyes and promptly lost her eyebrows and eyelashes.
"Subject will step to the final cleansing area or be punished."
Sobbing, Kunta stepped dejectedly over to another set of stainless steel poles that rose out of the floor. She noticed two sets of steel bands on each pole. One at the floor, the other much higher.
"Subject will place her wrists and ankles within the bands, or face punishment."
Kunta wailed as the last of her fried hair fell off her head and on to her shoulders.
"Do you want to be punished?" Toadie asked.
"Then do as I tell you."
"Yes, Ma'am." Kunta stepped up to the poles and reached up to place her wrists through each of the wide steel bands, followed by her ankles. She wasn't too surprised when they tightened up on her.
She gasped as the poles were raised another six inches so that her feet now dangled from the floor. She now hung helplessly from her wrists and ankles.
Clear glass panels came down from the ceiling, surrounding her on all sides. A drain opened up on the floor. She noticed small shower heads running down each corner of the glass.
Toadie activated them and Kunta screamed as her body was mercilessly pelted from head to foot by high pressure, needle fine jets of water. When the water ceased, she was gasping, her body now tingling and raw.
Toadie enjoyed the show. Subject was now clean, with her dark skin positively shining. Even her permanantly bald head. But she was only clean on the ]outside, wasn't she?
Kunta heard another humming sound. What now?! She looked up and saw a steel hose topped with a wide rubber plug being guided snakelike towards her mouth. Before she could think it was shoved past her lips and teeth and inflated.
In the control pod, Toadie guided two more sets of hoses. One plunged into the subject's ripe cunt, the other between her big asscheeks and up into her anus.
Kunta squawled into the rubber plug that also gagged her. The rubber in her mouth had inflated over her teeth and promptly sealed tight. She felt the other hoses wiggling up her ass and slipping deep into her cunt. They too had inflating rubber plugs that sealed them into her orifices.
Kunta shook her head and yanked and pulled at the steel bands that held her wrists, but she was stretched too tightly and had no leverage to snap them.
Toadie licked her lips and giggled. She started the flow for the internal cleansing.
Kunta froze and her eyes went as wide as pieplates as various solutions flooded her body. Hot water laced with anti-bacterial soap filled her guts. A cold, oily goo was shot up her cunt to fill her insides and more soapy water was forced down her throat to fill her belly.
Toadie panted and rode herself to another orgasm as she watched the proud amazon's body inflate to ridicilous extremes. She now looked nine months pregnant, her shiny bald head swinging about in panic.
Toadie took her right to the edge, stopping only when there was a real chance she would explode all over the glass enclosure. She quickly retracted the three probes and watched expectantly to see how long she could hold the fluids in.
It wasn't long. Despite her body being stretched tight by the steel bands, Kunta convulsed and shook as the various fluids cascaded out of her body. Simultaniously, Kunta expelled the enema, the oily douche and vomited up her bellyful of soapy water.
Ten minutes later, Kunta hung from the steel bands with no strength. Her body was totally purged, and her head hung low, soapy drool stringing from her open lips.
The drain below her had taken away all her waste. Now Toadie activated the shower heads again. First a cascade of liquid soap was sprayed over her from head to foot, covering her in shiny green goop. Toadie let it set for a few minutes and followed it with a long hard rinse of scalding hot water. All that was missing was a spin cycle.
The steel bands holding her wrists and ankles loosened and she fell to the floor in a heap. Sobbing, Kunta crawled to one curved corner of her her steel prison and curled up into a tight ball.
Toadie thought the subject was more beautiful than ever, her muscular body now hairless and shiny as well polished leather. It was like she was now her own creation.
Almost regretfully, Toadie activated the Stunner and fired. Kunta screamed as the jagged blue bolt of electricity hit her long enough to send her into a blessed unconsciousness.
Kunta Kintare drifted.
Memories so real that they seemed to be happening all over again in real time.
The hot sun over Mogadishu on her face. The plantive wails of the tribal clan songs mixing with the sound of AK-47s being fired into the air. Women crying for their lost children. Men shouting their fierce battlecries. A city at war. Hell on earth with no salvation.
Kunta opened her eyes to find herself now drifting in a glass tank of water. There were no breathing element around her mouth either. She was actually breathing this fluid into her lungs and not drowning.
She tried to move about but her arms and legs were now restrained by rubber straps so that she wouldn't pull out the IVs and PICC lines that now ran into both her arms, along with the central lines that had been implanted in her neck and in the femoral artery of her leg.
Kunta could see movement past the glass, a fuzzy figure in white looking at her. Kunta tried reaching for her, gurgling words to no avail.
Toadie smiled, watching the new subject now safely tucked away in her glass prison. The oxygenated anabolic fluid she breathed would also give her body enough nutrition to exist for quite some time. Ten to fifteen years, although her corded muscles and proud body would fade after six months or so, turning her into skin and bones.
"Enjoy your new home, babe," Toadie said, waving to her and then turning the lights out before locking the door behind her.