Kelle awoke at her dentist’s office. Her mouth felt numb. The dentist chair was in the reclined position and she relaxed into it. She was watching the TV conveniently mounted to the ceiling over her. The dentist office was fine by her. She had a great dentist she’d been seeing since college. She even had her hygienist’s number on her phone. They texted sometimes and talked about TV shows.

Wait.

She didn’t have her phone. She’d dropped it in the sex club and it was still there… and so was she.

Kelle groaned and tried to sit up. Her arms and legs were held down with black straps with shiny silver buckles. She turned her head and saw Hatcher and the terrifying Colonel woman on either side of her. They were fiddling with things outside her field of vision.

“My lawyer will have the police here before the sun goes down,” Kelle croaked, trying to wake up her groggy voice.

Hatcher glanced down at her and smiled, “I’m afraid not. And the sun has been down for a while. We brought you up earlier, just enough to let you think you were calling them. We got the secret phrase you had set up and then Adriana called in as you and gave it to them.”

Kelle was shaking her head, and pulling at the straps.

“Given your income level, it seemed likely they don’t hear from you enough to know your voice over the phone. Anyway, that’s all sorted out and, since then, you’ve been settling in just splendidly. You’re already farther along than I would’ve imagined. But, Colonel Müller is the very best. She’ll have you eating out of her pants before morning.”

“Let us restrain her head.” the Colonel suggested.

“Yes,” Hatcher agreed turning to look at someone behind Kelle. “Adriana, would you please buckle that down?”

Kelle’s head strained to look as far up as she was able. Adriana, upside down, loomed into view and took hold of a strange thin piece of metal. It looked like someone had crafted a masquerade mask out of steel and then cut out the middle, leaving only a half inch or so of the outer edge intact. There were several raised holes around the circumference, machined out for tiny screws. Two wide leather bands were attached to either side of the mask.

Adriana pressed it to Kelle’s face and it fit snuggly over her forehead, cheeks and chin. Kelle felt a clicking sensation as Adriana fed the leather bands into something she couldn’t see and they held her firmly in place, with her face pointed into the TV.

“It’s always interesting…” Hatcher said, it took Kelle a moment to realize it was directed at her,“…the reasons people tell themselves they need to come back here. Some feel they’re having fun. Others get hooked on the secrecy and exclusivity. A few think they’ve found the only safe space to explore some sexually problematic kink of theirs.”

She handed something to Colonel Müller and looked down at Kelle. “In time, they’re all just addicted to what we do to them. And, addiction is such a powerful tool in the right hands. Adriana lasted about a day and half before she came back through those doors and begged me to put her back in the room and finish what we’d started.”

Kelle shook her head but with the device clamped to her face it just seemed like she was trembling. She was doing that too.

“I think she’s a very honest addict. Maybe she’s had prior experience? Anyway, after a day of sitting at home with nothing to do but remember the most intense, complete pleasure she’d ever felt, she realized that it was worth giving up her life to have it again. Didn’t you, dear?”

“Yes Miss Hatcher,” Adriana answered reverently.

“It took you much longer to give in. But…”Hatcher smiled down at Kelle, “…here you are. All the same.”

“I didn’t give in.”

“My dear, that’s just the lie you told yourself to get you back through the door and into our clutches.”

“Bullshit!”

“You see,” Hatcher said holding up a hand. “There’s two parts of you.” She held her finger and thumb a tiny distance from each other. “One part is afraid of what you experienced here. But, it’s small.” She drew her finger and thumb apart. “There’s another part you that’s much bigger. And, it’s very, very horny for what you experienced here. You’re going to break so quickly and so completely once we give that part of you what it wants. Colonel?”

“Ya?”

“She’s all yours.”

“Danke Frau.” Müller breathed

Hatcher stepped away from the table. “Come Adriana, lets’ go fuck.”

“Yes Miss Hatcher!”

Kelle heard the sound of a door open and shut.

Müller leaned down to look at Kelle. She held another strange metal device in her hand. It seemed like it was part of the hollow mask. “Now,” she said in her deep German accent, “I want you to relax. You have to stop fighting. Once you stop resisting… I can make you cum. Better than anything. Better than everything.”

“No,” Kelle hissed.

The Colonel laid the device across her face. There were two more thin strips of metal joined at the middle like a very tall, thin letter H. It was turned sideways so the two long strips sat above and below Kelle’s eyes. There were small wires attached and they were bent a odd angles. Like someone’s paper clip art project except the wire was a bit thicker. They had been rolled and bent such that there were no sharp corners anywhere.

Colonel Müller started turning thumb screws off to the sides and the wires turned and rolled down until they gently grabbed Kelle’s eyelids, pulled them apart and held them open. She sobbed but even that was through clenched teeth, the mask held her face completely immobile.

Müller moved two swing arms into place on either side of Kelle’s head. Small nozzles at the end of the arms begin spraying a fine mist into her eyes. “We must keep you nice and lubricated,” the Colonel intoned said, moving down the chair and grabbing a pump bottle of thick, clear fluid. “Everywhere.”

Kelle hadn’t even noticed she was naked before that moment. Colonel Müller pumped out several dollops of lube and rubbed it into Kelle’s sex, probing her with a finger for good measure. Then the Colonel held up two chrome eggs attached to black chords.

Kelle had assumed one per hole but they both wound up inside her pussy. The feeling of fullness was quite a thing.

“We have a friend in London. She’s looking for a matched set of bondage sluts. I am going to get you and your friend trained up for her.”

“I won’t give in,” Kelle promised.

“I already told you little dove. Breaking your resistance comes later. For now? You must relaaaax.” Then, she pushed wireless earbuds into Kelle’s ears. There was a low, droning sound. It reminded her of the meditation music Adriana had played for her before… before Adriana lied to her and came back here to become a thrall of Miss Hatcher.

The TV came to life. It was playing porn. Not the glitzy, silicone-filled variety that Kelle had been recently subjecting herself to however. The models here were more real. Normal women with healthy bodies and self applied make up. They were being restrained and sexually tortured in types of bondage Kelle didn’t know existed.

Women handcuffed to beds with vibrators belted into them. Women strung up between posts, being flogged across their breasts by one latex-clad dominatrix while another relentlessly pumped them with a strap on from behind. Women suspend by metal bands screwed right into the wall, being fucked by tireless machines.

Superimposed over that, was a spiral tunnel stretching into infinity. At the very center, there was a tiny bright dot that was flickering and throbbing like a loose light bulb. There was a shooting star spiraling towards Kelle, streaking out from the center of the faint tunnel, on a collision course with her.

Kelle tracked it the full length of the tunnel. It spun in a lazy slow arc that kept her eyes moving in a circle until it finally struck her right in the middle of her forehead. The eggs inside her surged to life and buzzed the walls of her sex like nothing ever had.

Her whole body tensed in her bonds until the sensation finally passed. Her muscles went limp as one, as she sank into the chair. She mewled quietly. The pleasure had been… incredible. Not an orgasm. But really good.

A woman on screen in Victorian clothes wrestled with her bonds on an antique sofa. Her arms were bound behind her back in some sort of leather sleeve. Thick white ropes covered her body and encircled her impressive breasts. They were getting soaked with sweat and turning her white button up shirt transparent.

“Wasn’t that wunderbar?” the Colonel whispered in her ear. “This is like a game. If you play… it plays with you. Makes you feel good. Easy to play. All you must do is repeat the words it shows you. So easy. So relaxing. If you play good… it will give you what you want. Make you cum your brains out.”

“I’ll check on you later. Have fun.” Müller made a kissing sound and then she left the room. Kelle was still trying to gather her thoughts from the scramble they’d gotten when the eggs went off. She saw another point of light racing towards her. This one was dragging a block of text:

I CAME BACK TO SUBMIT

Kelle squealed and wracked her body even though she knew it would do no good. The star was tumbling down the tunnel towards her and nothing could stop it. Her eyes crossed as it struck her forehead. They stayed crossed as the vibrating eggs blended her thoughts into a slurry.

A woman kneeling on a bed with her arms held by cuffs and chains to the ceiling above her. An older woman in a corset and stockings approached the bed carrying a bullwhip and a strap on.

It took two more cycles for Kelle to realize that the eggs were meant to blast her with immense pleasure, but not let her cum. Not until she gave in and played the game.

Kelle couldn’t help but wonder what the Colonel had meant about how if she played, the game would give her what she wanted. That seemed intended to be especially tempting. What the hell, there was little that could happen to make the situation worse.

The mask held her jaw securely so she just sort of growled through clenched teeth: “I came back to submit.”

The video on screen changed. Along with the music. Kelle moaned desperately as pure orgasmic bliss pounded through her entire body. The oiled pornstars with the micro bikinis and enormous breasts smiled down to her like they were greeting an old friend.

Kelle fought to close her eyes but there was no looking away from them. She howled and bucked in the restraints as her body surged over and over in a long, creating and falling orgasm. There were spots in her vision and she was pretty sure they weren’t on the TV.

Kelle didn’t know how long it lasted but, at some point, the wickedly tempting porn faded away and was replaced by:

A woman walked down a crowded sidewalk and bit her lip. Her hands were in her pockets. No one could see that holes had been cut in her clothes and that her hands were bound to her thighs with an elaborate leather harness under her pants. They couldn’t see the dildos buried in both her passages that fucked her with ever step.

Kelle knew the game then. It was showing her things it knew she wasn’t into to tempt her into saying their words. Conditioning herself, to earn something she was very into: a porn prize. they were going to teach her to love being a bondage slut.

It wasn’t going to work. She steeled herself and clamped her mouth shut. All she had to do was endure some fetish porn and not play their sadistic game.

By the tenth star-strike Kelle’s pussy was drooling like a dog hearing the dinner bell. Each time a star came sailing down the tunnel towards her, she could feel her pelvis lifting off the table as if stretching to meet a lover’s probing fingers.

But. She hadn’t recited the phrase. She was very pleased with herself for that. They’d underestimated her. Thinking the vibrators and the bondage would turn her mind to mush. Kelle was proving stronger than they realized. She could endure this. She was not going to let them break her and indoctrinate her like poor Adriana.

A woman rode in the backseat of an expensive car. She was handcuffed behind her back and held in place by the seatbelt. Her eyes were half closed as she rode the vibrator inside her soaked panties. The car slowed and stopped at an empty intersection. The prostitutes from the corner went to the car and opened up the door. They pulled the new recruit from the back seat and took her to start her job at the glory holes.

The words in the spiral tunnel changed occasionally. Mostly it was phrases designed to weaken her resolve. It wasn’t working. Kelle’s resolve had never been stronger. She had learned to just relax in her bonds and let the mind-melting pleasure take her as she watched the kinky video stream run its course.

Kelle’s eyes were open but she must’ve fallen asleep anyway. She woke up to Colonel Müller and Miss Hatcher looking down at her. “How are you feeling Kelle?” Hatcher asked.

“It’s not working,” Kelle’s tired voice whispered. “I didn’t say the words. Any of them.”

Hatcher looked at Colonel Müller. “So you didn’t earn a reward at all?”

“Once,” Kelle said proudly, “just to see what the reward was. That’s it. You’re not going to break me.”

“I see,” Hatcher said and tapped at something on a tablet she was holding. “Tell me what you think about this.” The TV snapped on.

Adriana dangled from heavy chains attached to the ceiling. She wore a leather harness that was like a bikini that framed, rather than covered, her pussy and breasts.

Kelle screamed as her body almost broke itself in half at the power of her orgasm.

There were chains dangling from Adrian’s leather harness, they rattled as she convulsed in them. She had a ball gag strapped onto her face pulling her mouth open almost as wide as her eyes. She stared into a TV screen that filled an entire wall.

Kelle’s every muscle clenched as she came again, it felt like there was a vibrator inside her brain and it had found her mind clit.

Adriana had no vibrator, no delicious nipple clamps, no horse tail butt plug. She gasped and cried as her body writhed in constant pleasure. The wall-screen flashed the words “Cum you bitch,” and Adriana obeyed, her eyes rolling up in her head. She no longer needed toys to cum. Only commands.

Kelle gasped in an irregular, desperate rhythm. Her sex was sizzling. She felt as if steam were pouring off her body.

“You see Frau,” Colonel Müller said with a wicked grin, “she’s ours if she plays… ours if she doesn’t.”

“It’s a very wicked game isn’t it Kelle?” Miss Hatcher smiled. “Alright Colonel, let’s run the next course and then we’ll turn them loose on each other. They should reinforce themselves nicely.”

“Ya, it will be done!”

Hatcher left the room and Colonel Müller leaned over the table staring down at Kelle with a hungry smile. Her nipples were huge and poking out from her tight shirt. “I hope you enjoyed your time relaxing little dove,” she purred. “Now, I will break you.”

The screen came to life again. Behind the spiral tunnel were images of Miss Hatcher. Glamour shots in expensive gowns, designer lingerie and myriad dominatrix costumes.

NO!!! Not her! I can’t let them condition me to fall in lust with her!

Kelle had to say the words this time. Every one of them. Whatever it took to keep her from being trained to cum at the sight of Miss Hatcher the way they’d trained to her cum from the just the thought of bondage sex.

If they got her throbbing, quivering clit tied to Miss Hatcher… Kelle would obey her. Would obey anything. Miss Hatcher could use Kelle’s face as a seat, her tongue as an ash tray and her eat food off her body and it would only make Kelle love her more.

You have to do it. Just play the game this time.

The words appeared in the spiral tunnel as the first shooting star came rocketing towards her. “I’m an obedient slut!” Kelle cried out, hating how true it already felt. With as much of a smile as she could manage, she watched the Miss Hatcher montage fade from the screen.

It was replaced a moment later by a steady stream of videos. Starring Colonel Müller.

NOOoooOOoOOOoOOOoo!

The Colonel held a tiny woman in a headlock with one hand while pressing a vibrating wand between her legs with the other. The woman’s eyes rolled up in her head as she rode the line between orgasm and unconsciousness.

Kelle’s body convulsed in her bonds, her eyes held open as the images poured into her mind.

Müller pumped a thick strap on in and out of a woman bound to an exam chair. Her feet were parted in steel stirrups and held down by black leather cuffs. She wore a visor and earbuds as her head thrashed from side to side in what seemed a continuous orgasm. It was Adriana.

Kelle gasped and grunted in a language she’d never heard before, her thoughts turning into wanton nonsense as they streamed from her mouth.

Colonel Müller was in a room with the man and woman from the hallway last night. They were married. He was naked and tied down to a chair with his cock stretched out and held in place by a wicked looking clamp. There was a candle mounted on a stand above it. It dripped searing hot wax onto his bound member every few seconds. He pleaded with his wife to blow it out. She was kneeling between the Colonel’s chiseled thighs, eating her pussy and groaning at the pleasure she got from doing it. Müller laughed as the slave wife ignored her husband and worshipped her Dominatrix instead.

Kelle wasn’t sure if she was cumming again or if she’d never stopped. The reward cycle finished and the Colonel Müller videos faded out and were replaced by the endless montage of Miss Hatcher being gorgeous and commanding and so, so sexy.

Kelle’s mind felt like a muscle that had been taxed far beyond its limits. She could’t win. Either she’d be programmed to love Hatcher or Colonel Müller. And, no matter which she chose, they’d probably make her do this again and switch the sequence. They wanted her obedient to both of them and Kelle knew that she would learn to want that too. Maybe much faster than she’d like to admit.

Tears streaked down her face. They had her. She wasn’t getting off this chair until she belonged to them. They were… brainwashing her. Into a slave. And it was working! Kelle could already feel their commands inside her head. They didn’t feel like her own thoughts. They were different… but only for now. Once she got used to them, she wouldn’t know the difference.

By then, there wouldn’t be a difference.

But Kelle could at least choose one thing. She could choose to belong to Colonel Müller before Miss Hatcher. Her last act of defiance. Her Alamo. Her Thermopile. She spat the next words the screen showed her: “This little slut loves to be trained!”

The reward sequence kicked in. The photos of Hatcher faded. Kelle smiled, enjoying every bit of the small victory she could. The video footage faded in. It was a blond woman with elaborate tattoos covering her back. Her hair was tied into a pony tail that bounced excitedly as she worshipped Miss Hatcher’s creamy sex.

Kelle howled in anguish, screaming and grunting and cursing. The eggs inside of her waited until she’d stopped to get her breath before they obliterated her mind.

When the white spots faded from her vision, Miss Hatcher was still on screen.

She was humping the blonde’s obedient face. She cracked a riding crop across the woman’s ass and the slave thanked her without ever removing her tongue from the slick pink folds. Hatcher looked at Kelle and winked. She was even more gorgeous with her clothes off.

Kelle didn’t fight after that. She lay slack in her bonds drifting in an out of awareness as her mind was reprogrammed to love, worship and obey, especially obey, Miss Hatcher and Colonel Müller.

When Kelle was finally taken out of the dentist chair her new slave mind had taken firm root. She shivered in arousal at every look Miss Hatcher cast upon her. Her nipples strained towards Colonel Müller’s voice with every command she gave.

She was taken to a lavish bathroom where she bathed and rubbed the soreness out of her limbs. Then, she was presented with clothes. A black leather bra-harness with cut outs for her tits. Black leather panties with sheer lace to expose her slave cunt. Tall black whore heels to keep her legs and ass on display at all times.

Micro orgasms popped in Kelle’s body with each garment she put on. Reinforcing the relentless indoctrination she’d already received. When she looked at herself in the mirror she fell in love with the slave she had become.

Colonel Müller took her down the hall to a room she hadn’t visited before. But she recognized it all the same. It was the room where the walls were screens. She’d seen video of Adriana trussed up here and receiving her own slave conditioning.

Now, Adriana stalked over in her own pair of come-fuck-me heels. A luscious silicone cock swayed back and forth from where it sat snug in a black harness. Kelle almost fell to her knees at the spike of arousal she felt seeing her friend in her own slave wear.

But she had not been commanded to kneel and so she stayed standing and rode the wave of arousal as it threatened to drown her. “You will make a fine pair,” the Colonel mused. “You’re for an old friend of mine. You’re going to be hers. She’s in London. You’ll love it there, no matter what she does to you.”

Colonel Müller unhooked the leash from Kelle’s collar and motioned her to go to Adriana. “Take turns with each other. I want to see you both making me proud and being the most submissive sluts I’ve ever trained.”

“Yes Colonel!” the pair cried in unison.

“If you do a good job, I’ll turn on the screens. Let you cum your brains out, Ya?”

“Thank you Colonel!,” they whimpered.

Then Colonel Müller left the room and the door clicked shut.

Kelle turned to Adriana. There was so much to say. Adriana had lied to her on the phone. Had injected her, helped Mistress Hatcher capture her. If Adriana had never made a pass at her she’d have never booked a massage and wound up a brainwashed slave who could orgasm simply if she was told to.

“I love you,” Kelle cried out, tweaking her nipples as they throbbed on her breasts.

Adriana nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “I know. I love you. That’s why I did it. I had to help you be their slave too. It’s better than…”

“I know!” Kelle squealed, “everything. It’s better than everything.”

“Ever been to London?”

“No.”

“We’re going to be together. We’re going to be slaves together.” Adriana leaned close and pushed her tongue into Kelle’s mouth, their soft lips dancing over each other.

“Forever,” Kelle murmured between kisses, “We’re going to be slaves together forever.”

“If we’re going to be good slaves, then we need to start obeying.” Adriana pulled Kelle over to a chain hanging from the ceiling with a pair of cuffs attached at the end. She put the cuffs on and locked them shut.

Kelle’s pussy clenched behind her thong as she was bound. It felt perfect.

Adriana grabbed a tiny padded stool from the corner and brought it over, setting it Kelle’s feet.

“Should I get up on-whooooaaa!” She cried out as Adriana yanked the other end of the chain and the ratchet in the ceiling pulled Kelle’s hands high over her head and held them taught. She leaped onto the stool to keep her arms from getting yanked off. The soft material gave her nothing to really stand on in the heels and she tottered dangerously until Adriana pulled the chain and took out even more slack until Kelle was stretched to her limit.

“Now you can’t fall,” Adriana said with a wink.

“It’s too high, I can’t-“

Adriana swatted her ass hard, then gave the strapon a shake. “Actually, you’re at the perfect height.”

Kelle grinned and bit her lip as Adrianna pulled her thong aside and bent down to press her lips into Kelle’s sex. Soon, Kelle was barking and begging to cum. Then, Adriana took her by the hips and slowly pressed the glorious cock into her steaming pussy.

Kelle came in an instant. And she kept cumming. She came on every deep stroke in as Adriana gave Kelle her very first fucking as a slave. Kelle wept with how good it felt. The orgasms were different from when she’d been free in the same way lakes are different than oceans.

Adriana dug her nails into her back, spanked her ass, thumbed her rosebud and pinched her nipples as she fucked her relentlessly. Muttering all the while the stream of ‘thoughts’ worming through her mind: “We’re slaves, oh fucking god, we’re slaves. I love it. Love you. Love the Colonel, fucking love slavery, love fucking your slave cunt, ooooooOOOOooOOHHHHH GoDDDDDDD!!!!”

And once she’d recovered from the orgasm, it would all start again.

Kelle submitted to it gleefully. Not caring if her turn ever came. If it did, she’d help Adriana be the most submissive, subjugated slut she could be. And they would both cum their brains out.

As if on queue, the wall screens switched on and both women squealed in glee as they eagerly turned to watch. Cumming was almost as good as being brainwashed. Almost.

“The reinforcement training is working well,” Hatcher mused, leaning forward in the arm chair and grabbing her phone from the coffee table.

“Ya,” Müller agreed, stretching out on the sofa.

The pair was watching the wall mounted TV in the sitting area of Hatcher’s office. On screen, Kelle submitted to Adriana’s ferocious thrusting.

Müller chuckled. “They want to be together and they only do that if they are both good slaves. This is the first time I’ve tried this tactic on a couple that wasn’t already in a long standing relationship. They must’ve been quite smitten.”

“Another job well done Colonel.”

“Danke Frau,” Müller said with a gracious nod.

Hatcher tapped her phone and spoke into it: “Amber after you’ve finished what you’re doing could you please come in here. I need your help with something.”

Müller raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing.

“We’ll keep them here until the end of the month and then send them to Chicago,” Hatcher typed something on her phone.

Müller turned her head sharply. “But… we already… my friend in London is expecting them. She knows that I’ve been training them for her.”

“And she also knows she’s supposed to be running interference on our behalf. With her secret society friends. I don’t need anymore trouble from them.”

“That’s not what we agreed on.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Hatcher said flatly, staring at her phone.

“Have you?” Müller hissed. She stood up and began pacing around the room.

“Yes, and that’s the last I want to hear about it.”

She crept up behind Hatcher and lunged forward, clapping her strong hands onto the other woman’s shoulders.

Hatcher gasped and dropped her phone.

“Perhaps,” Müller purred as her hands began to knead the flesh of Hatcher’s neck and shoulders, “you need a reminder of who your mind belongs to.”

Hatcher shivered, her whole body trembling at the electric touch of the German’s hands. “That doesn’t work anymore. I’m not under your thumb anymore.”

“Then I suppose,” Müller reached forward and ripped open Hatcher’s shirt. Buttons ricocheted off the wall and disappeared into the plush carpet, “I’ll have to get you back under my thumb, my obedient Frau.”

“No!” Hatcher hissed, twisting in the other woman’s grip.

Müller leaned forward and snapped her bra open, the creamy breasts and hard pink nipples spilling free. She wrapped her hands around them, massaging them firmly as Hatcher’s head rolled back and a breathy moan escaped her lips.

“You want me to keep enslaving minds for you, ya?”

“Yes,” Hatcher breathed.

“And you want to keep me happy?”

“Yessssss.”

“Then we send the girls to my friend,” Müller wet the fingers of one hand and slipped them down, past Hatcher’s clenching stomach, and into her waistband. Hatcher moaned helplessly and thrust her hips forward into the probing fingers.

“We send the girls to my friend, say it!”

Hatcher’s head weakly thrashed from side to side as she gripped the arms of the chair and rode the Colonel’s hand. “Yessssss,” she hissed quietly.

“Say it!”

“I’ll send them to your friend!”

“Ya! Anything to keep me happy!”

“I’ll do… anything… to keep you happy,” Hatcher’s eyes rolled up as she grunted in pleasure.

“That’s the game you like to play, isn’t it Frau?”

“Yes!!!” Hatcher wailed.

There was a knock at the door. Hatcher’s eyes popped open and locked on the door in terror.

“In that case, it’s time to PLAY!” Müller shoved Hatcher out of the chair. She fell to the carpet on hands and knees, her ruined clothes dangling beside her heaving breasts as she looked up.

Colonel Müller stepped to the door and opened it. Amber stood outside wearing a thick black collar and a sheer pair of panties that showed off the dark patch of hair between her legs. Her eyes were empty and staring forward. She extended her arms out, offering Colonel Müller the items that she carried.

Müller took the thick riding crop and the massive strap on cock and looked down at Hatcher with sneer. “Frau, your sekretärin has arrived to help you.”

Hatcher nodded her head weakly and began to crawl forward on hands and knees. Müller stepped out of the way and dropped her toys on the coffee table. Then, she peeled her shirt off, her nipples were the size of grapes and standing at full attention. She yanked her pants down and kicked them away.

Hatcher knelt before Amber and offered up her hands, with pleading, desperate eyes. Amber leaned down and clicked handcuffs around Hatcher’s wrists. Hatcher’s body convulsed as they closed shut.

Müller stroked her sex under her black lace thong and then pulled the strap on up her legs. “Take this bitch and put her across the desk.”

“Yes, Colonel,” Amber said dully. She took hold of the chain and dragged Hatcher towards her desk.

“NO!” Hatcher cried out, walking and stumbling on her knees as Amber pulled her along. “Not my office!”

“You need to be reminded of your place,” Müller scolded as she tightened the buckles of the strap on and picked up the riding crop.

Amber dragged Hatcher to the desk and held handcuff chain tight in her hands, stretching the other woman across it. Hatcher’s breasts dragged across the oak top as she tried to look over her shoulder at Colonel Müller slowly advancing on her squirming ass and legs. She shook her head frantically. “The play room… please I beg you! Not my desk!”

Müller kicked her feet wide and Hatcher’s skirt rode up, revealing the tops of her stockings. The Colonel swatted her ass and then dug a hand in to squeeze the delicious flesh. “The last time we used the play room, I’m pretty sure they heard you cumming next door at the spa.”

Then, the Colonel yanked the skirt up revealing Hatcher’s black thong. There was an evident damp spot. “OooooOOoooohMYyyyyyyYYYyyyyGoddddddd,” she moaned as her head weakly sunk into the desk.

When Colonel Müller yanked her panties out of the way, there was already a river running from Miss Hatcher’s steaming sex to the high heeled sandals she stood trembling in.

END