Laura Murphy is closer to thirty than twenty. As she is being led down one and then a second dimly lighted stairwell. The man who kidnapped Laura six days ago has opted to dress his disciplinary problem in little more than a taupe brassiere that barely contains Laura’s full breasts. That garment…and one of his own flannel shirts that is criminally unbuttoned to an extent that both the bra and the cleavage of his plaything are on full display.
As Laura Murphy is being led down a pair of narrow, high walled stairwells.
Laura’s owner has already bound up his victim’s arms behind her back. At the wrists. And it is interesting for him to witness how such a simple form of restraint delightfully impacts how the whore’s legs negotiate the steps down into the punishment chambers. Laura’s long brown hair is free, she is crying and her lips mutely search for the right words that might appease the man who controls the levels of physical pain she may be subjected to shortly.
The man - who has barely spoken four sentences to Laura during her imprisonment - now deigns to mock her helplessness by mentioning that ‘for a slut’ she possesses a very nice body. This simple statement of fact causes the prisoner to sob even more noticeably. As her bare feet and exquisite legs stumble towards what could end up being torture.
Laura is at this point much closer in proximity to the pit of this man’s dungeon than she will ever again be to the street above. The man ushering this lovely creature to her fate is ill pleased with his recent decision to NOT traffic Laura into sex slavery. Mainly due to the fact that Laura is a discipline case. In need of an attitude adjustment. Perhaps permanent in nature.
Laura begins to tremble violently as the stairwells of this evil place are left behind. She and her admirer are now in what could be termed an ordinary entry foyer…were it not for the severe restraint devices arrayed upon the three facing walls that contain the main door to the torture chamber further in. Another equally unfortunate girl is seen plaintively begging for mercy as the newly arrived pair march without hesitation past her naked body. A body marred by an identification brand painfully emblazoned upon it’s left hip…and a series of deliberately placed (and almost sensually landscaped) welts filing across the contours of its tanned breasts.
Laura is told to ignore the pleas of the abused female in the foyer. It appears the man is in an unusually talkative mood today.
If she were the sadistic sort who paid attention to such things Laura might describe the torture chamber itself as more a rape gallery rather than a locale for pain to be administered to female bodies. After all for every instrument of chrome in the chamber there are two or three thin mattresses. Laid out upon the stone floor. It is to the nearest of these mattresses that the man forces Laura to walk towards. Her sobs grow to a point where they begin to drown out the plaintive wailings of the doomed girl with the already bruised breasts.
Without untying Laura’s arms the man finds a way to shred the few remaining buttons off the top she’s been forced to wear. Then the flannel is pushed roughly down off Laura’s shoulders until the garment gets bunched up at the wrist bindings behind her back. The taupe bra is left in place. It seems the man desires to rape Laura like this. With her breasts heaving inside the brassiere cups and the wrist bindings left to dig into Laura’s back. Once his weight is atop her and his cock is hammering away at her vagina again.
Then - in a torrent of abuse - the tight lipped sadist informs Laura of what awaits her. These few but especially brutal rapes on the mattresses being just a prelude. Then the short jaunt back to the wall of the foyer. With a quick insertion of Laura’s now nude body being placed in restraint in such a manner that both girls in the pit won’t help but witness the mutual shrieks of agony planned for their feet, nipples, pussy lips and buttocks.
The man is having a grand time raping Laura’s prostrate form atop a second mattress. With his victim on her belly and his lance of a cock probing Laura’s anus to a severe degree. There are screams filling the chamber. Screams…and a palpable sense of dread in Laura’s heart as to what’s to follow. What is inevitable. What the man has been carefully planning since the moment he initially happened across ‘that whore from Tempe’ who has been, is now and will forever be under his strict sexual control.
“Please! Oh, God…not like this! NOT AGAIN! Oh, please…uugghhhhhh!! I’ll…I’ll be better than the other girl! PLEASE! EE - aarrgghhhh! Naaaarrrrgggggghhhhhh! Please not again. Anything but that. Please sir. Please! PLEASE! Oh…God, please…uuuugggghhhhhh!! EE - aarrgghh!!”
The man is having the time of his life.
Laura is now splayed across a third mattress and is being raped in such a way that she feels she’ll be split in two. Both along her length as well as laterally across her straining hips. The man is going over for the last time the precise order in which torture is to be applied to Laura’s body once she is - in his words - ‘suitably marinated’. No longer is she wearing the bra. And somewhere along the way the flannel has been knifed away from her body so that Laura will be stark naked once punishment begins.
Once the stern man’s discipline is allowed to take form and envelop Laura’s writhing body.
Once Laura is in unspeakable agony.
“Please…pl-please s-sir…just keep me on the mattress. PLEASE! I’ll be good. I’ll do b-better. Please sir…please. I know I’m a whore now. I admit it sir. Please! Fuck me all you like sir. Please…please…just rape me whenever you like. PLEASE! Noooooo…PLEASE! EE - aagghh!!”
Laura is sobbing. Raped three times…each occasion more punishing than the rape prior…she’s now being dragged in the direction of the door from which she was ushered in hours ago. Laura is being dragged naked - by her long brown hair - to torture. She is exhausted from the trial atop the mattresses. She is pleading with the man to spare her nipples. Begging him to ‘please, please, oh please’ not play games with her clitoris. Laura is humiliating herself by offering up any and all portions of her battered body for sexual pleasure if only the man who selected her for slavery might show mercy and NOT brand an ID number on her lower back. Not because the man has changed his mind and decided to traffic Laura after all. But simply because he has the opportunity and the lust to place a scorching brand upon such a fine helpless body as Laura’s.
“Keeping the bra as a trophy whore. Got Sandra’s panties likewise. You two gonna’ spend some quality time on the wall kid. Sandra’s had a day or two head start…so you gotta’ catch up Laura slut. Titties like yours are made for catching up. Yes indeed. SHUT UP! It’s your fault you ain’t suitable for Caracas. It’s Sandra’s fault the men from Istanbul reneged. I’m so fuckin’ pissed off right now whore! SHUT UP! You’re only making it worse for yourself……”
Laura Murphy and Sandra Banes-Higgins are being processed as Failed Projects.
Looking back it was a lose-lose proposition for the pair right from the get go. The man who recruited them is not a penny richer. But he has plenty to play with to ease his disappointment.
