"Prisoner X" (FF, bd, sm, torture,) "Prisoner X" She did not know where she was. All she could sense was the damp odor of her surroundings. And those surroundings were completely concealed in utter darkness. She could not remember how she came to be here, wherever "here" might be, and most distressing, she could not remember anything about herself. Her memory had been vanquished and despite her efforts now to recapture her name and her personality, only shadows of memory remained. Her naked figure stumbled around the darkness, cautiously, running her slender fingers along the rough surface of the floor, and along the one wall she could find. The texture wsa coarse and jagged, like old stone slabs that have cracked and grown gapping holes in the midst of their edges. Every now and then, she would try making a noise with her voice or hands, searching for someone else to comfort her loneliness. She tapped on her own thighs to ignite a rhythm, just a way of making the time pass and stave off insanity, when she heard an echo. A matching sound in the distance tapped in concert with her hands. She stopped to test the echo. Then, she started and the echo returned. Finally, the sounds seemed to take flight in the air and she could sense that the "echo" was making circles around her. Suddenly the sound became near, in fact, it was over her head. Then whack. She felt the sensation of cold leather hitting her neck. A leather collar was wrapping itself around her thin neck. She heard the steel buckles automatically lock, and she felt the tightness almost cut off her air supply. Following the neck strap, more noises were heard flying around the darkness, and she felt leather smack across her wrists and ankles. She listened helplessly as the buckles connected on these new straps. She was more lost and confused than before. A bright light, which began as a sliver, emanated from a far wall. The crack grew larger as the wall lifted upward. She had to shun her eyes as the bright light was blinding.As her eyes began to adjust slightly, she saw a figure in black moving closer. It appeared to be a tall female. Once the wall closed to just a crack again, allowing a little light, she could make a the definition of a tall, well-proportioned woman. "You will submit to me," the strange woman announced, "if you know what is good for you. Now raise your eyes to mine, Vic. That's an order." The girl reluctantly obeyed. And as she strained against the light and the weariness of her own neck, she was stunned by the attire of this strong-voiced woman. She was adorned with long black boots, the bottoms of which were defined by steel-tips and five-inch stiletto heels. Around her ankles and thighs, the boots were sanctioned by small silver straps, which were effectively used to keep the boots up and keep them tight upon her legs. Covering (barely) the woman's pussy was a narrow leather strap that slid up and behind into an immaculate corset. The corset was black leather, dotted with several spikes protruding from the waist and breast fringes, and tied to such an extreme measure that it granted the woman a waistline of no more than nineteen inches. In one hand, her dark glove carried a coiled whip and in the other, a dog leash. "Lift your chin, Vic." And without contempating much resistance, Vic (as she was being called) complied with the order. "I am your Mistress now, and you are my slave." The mistress began affixing the leash about the girl's collar. "Why do you call me Vic?" Is that my name?" The young girl asked as innocently as she could so as not to distress her mistress. Still, asking questions out of turn was an offense that drew the wrath of the lady with the whip. The powerful gloved hands of the mistress grabbed Vic's face and brandished the whip inches in front of her. "Do not speak unless told to do so,Vic!" A few adjustments were made to the collar. "If you must know...I call you Vic because it's short for Victim. And you are my victim. Any more smart questions?" The naked girl submissively shook her head as the mistress finished with the collar. "There. Perfect. I imagine you must be thirsty by now. Come," the mistress commanded. Following instinct, Vic began to stand up when the mistress quickly shoved her back to the floor. "On all fours!" Vic followed her enslaver with both dread and intrigue. There was something familiar about th woman's features, especially in the eyes and mouth, and that signalled a possible memory. Whether it was a pleasant or an unpleasant memory, Vic had to unlock it, thus she felt compelled to play out this strange scenario at least until she recovered that nearest available memory. On the flipside. she had to wonder about the severity of this game, if it was indeed only a game, and to what ultimate desire she herself was destined to be a part. The passageways through the cell were better illiuminated now with the opened door, and with the assistance of the mistress' palm light. After several minutes of walking, the mistress stopped at what appeared to be a water well built up out of the earth. "How do I draw the water, mistress?" 'Did you speak to me again, without permission?" She asked rhetorically. "I was originally going to allow you the use of your hands. Now---for this disobedience--I think we'll just lower you in. ROPE!" As this single word bounced off the crusty walls, hundreds of lengths of rope came streaming down from the blackness of the ceiling. Each one had a metal hook on it, and like little piranha, they snapped at the ankles and heels of Vic. Eventually, the hooks caught on around her wrist straps, holding them behind her back. The ropes tied themselves firmly across her chest and pinned Vic's arms against her backside. And as the hooks connected to her ankle straps, the ropes hoisted Vic into the air and flung her over the well. Vic stared into what seemed like an empty pit. She could not see a drop of water. In that one moment of suspension, she turned to her mistress with a universal expression of "No, Please, I beg you." The mistress smiled and pointed her index finger down. After plunging several feet ( she could not be sure how many ) Vic hit the water headfirst, and was powerless to change her course. The water was cold and murky, and Vic dared not open her mouth to taste any part of the smelly liquid. Each time she was thrust into the water, the ropes took a little longer to rescue her, and since the ropes were tightly embracing her chest, Vic's lungs began to ache. Following six or seven dunks, the ropes pulled Vic clear of the well and settled her down at the feet of her mistress, who was enjoying the whole show. Without giving her slave time to reorient herself, the mistress ordered the ropes back into the unseen sky and thrust her boot toward Vic's tired, dripping face. "Lick my boot," she started, "Thank your mistress for sparing your life." The boots of her mistress were not perfect and spotless, they showed signs of much usage, which made Vic's task that much more unappealing. Strangely though, Vic felt a compulsion of gratitude that would not stop at licking her mistress' boots. She did not understand this undefined emotion, but she decided to pursue it and see where it led her. Vic complied as ordered. She slowly bent down to the mistress' steel-tipped boot and caressed it with her tongue. Her tongue did not reach out at first, but as she became more comfortable in role, her tongue gave way to her general emotions. Then Vic raised the boot and slid her tongue along the base of the boot, whose sole was marked by chips of concrete and dirt. Vic maintained a lust-driven smile the whole time. When she arrived at the five-inch heel, Vic repositioned her body so that her breasts were sandwiching the silver heel. Sensuously, she squeezed her breasts compactly and rubbed the heel between them, prompting the mistress to moan with pleasure. Wanting to dare her mistress a little, Vic took a chance. As the mistress closed her eyes to react to the sensations she was obviously feeling, Vic lifted her boot up and threw her off balance, causing her to fall awkwardly on her ass. Vic scurried to her feet and ran toward the faint light of the cracked door. Not looking behind her, she heard what sounded like the crack of thunder. In the next instant, that crack took the form of a whip around her waist. When her mistress had wrestled control over her slave again, she stood her up against the wall. Vic wondered if the mistress could sense the anticipation she was feeling. It was clear to Vic now that the mistress was not here to harm her; quite the contrary, she was allowing Vic a form of release that might go unmatched. Now, if Vic could only remember what it was that rang so familiar about her mistress. "This disobedience must be reprimanded, my pretty. I'm going to give you the whipping of a lifetime, Vic." The mistress stood back for better aim, and before Vic could think about escape, the wall behind her began to buckle and shift. Vic was stunned and remained motionless. The all melted into a porous substance and reached out its liquid "hands" to grab the shaken girl. Two additional "hands" wrapped around Vic's ankles and secured her against the wall. When the girl was in position, the wall resolidified and Vic found her body spread-eagle along the wall and her wrists and ankles were encased by the impenetrable concrete. Only her head tossed and her breasts shimmied under the strain of this new bondage. This spread-eagle position opened her chest and stomach to the bite of the lash. The mistress uncoiled her menacing tool and smacked it across the breasts of her slave. Vic shuddered, but tried to mask the pain. A second lash, more powerful than the first, caused Vic's face to contort with obvious discomfort. A third lash, and Vic could not distinguish pain from pleasure; she cried out with double emotions. The mistress alternated from the girl's bare breasts and stomach muscles, each being marked by several minutes of lashes and several beads of fresh sweat. Finally, Vic was being worked into a frenzy, and her mistress could tell. She halted the whipping and watched Vic's disappointed and surprised eyes bulge. "No, don't stop! Please whip me. Please, I beg you, mistress! I'll do anything you ask---" "Anything?" "Yes, anything. Only, keep this excitement alive inside of me." Slowly, menacingly, a smile full of ideas came to the mistress. "i'll give you something to keep the excitement inside of you...and you'll not soon forget it. WALL!" Vic could feel the wall against her back start to quake and rumble as before. Then the sound ofthe concrete slabs became more localized around her thighs. Vic looked down to her pussy and saw the concrete liquidity jutting from the wall. A liquid penis of immense size was forming. Vic could feel the cold concrete changing shape, rubbing against her inner thighs, filling her mind with anticipation. Finally, the wall's penis turned slightly upward, searching for Vic's receptive pussy, and when it scratched against her modest pussy lips, the concrete regained its solid form and thrust into Vic. She felt a whallop that was beyond description. Vic's eyes wanted to shut, but she wanted to communicate to her mistress how wonderful this torment was. When the mistress noted the favor in her victim's eyes, she knew only too well how to add to the excitement of the action. The mistress uncoiled her whip from its hold and proceeded to strike against Vic's sweating thighs and her shaking breasts, making certain tocrack the hard, erect nipples, which represented the emotions of the wearer. The skin on Vic's back was chafing on the wall, and she wondered now of she had a breaking point; if everything here was real. The thrusts being driven by the animal inside that inexplicable concrete cock weren't letting he breath normally, she feared. She couldnt stop the room from tilting just a little. Vic tried to focus on the mistress' smile, and the extraordinary effect the whipping added to her intercourse with the wall. She knew she was dripping all over the concrete now, and if she could bend down to see it, she would see that a puddle of her sweet juices was swimming under her. "How is my slave now?" The mistress inquired between lashes. Vic could only for the words with her mouth, and the sounds only came out in long, amorphous moans of pleasure. "And now, slave, the best part is saved for last----COME!" The mistress commanded. And as she gave the order, Vic sensed a bulging with the cock; it suddenly withdrew from between her thighs and met her face, shooting warm jets of sporadic liquid inside and around the mouth. Those drops that fell outside her mouth were quickly scooped up by the mistress and smoothed across her own lips, and the lips of her slave. "Do you still seek to escape now, my dear slave, " the mistress leaned in close to the girl. "You have passed the test for orientation. If you want to leave, my computers will restore your past, erase this place from your term memory, and my people will return you to where you live on Earth. But hear this. You have so much potential. I know. I was planted as your older sister at your home. For the last year, I have seen your submissive nature blossom. Here, you have only tasted a small fraction of the pleasure that we can create for you." Gradually, Vic's breathing returned to normal, but she remained speechless. "I will let you think on this---RELEASE!" And as the mistress turned, walking toward the light, the wall loosened its grip and lowered Vic gently to the floor. "Wait,...mistress. Can we go further? Can I go further than this pleasure?" "Only if you decide to leave Earth behind, whatever the consequences," she added. "Then, I want to stay. I need to stay. I don't want to remember who I was or even if I was ever happy on Earth. This feeling, these emotions are incredible. Please, let me stay with you and---" "Slave, I don't seem to recall giving you permission to talk freely." The mistress barked. And her new slave bowed her head submissively, while bearing a secret smile across face.