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This story may be freely distributed, so long as the following
warning remains attached.


WARNING:  This story is not to some tastes.  Actually, it's
not to most tastes.  It involves bondage, golden showers,
humiliation, kidnapping, murder, rape, scat, slavery, terror,
and torture, all of them nonconsensual.  There's also doubtless
some grammatical errors; for those, my apologies.

This is not by any means a normal bondage story, it does not
represent the practices of the BDSM community, where consent is
required and the safety of all players a key concern.  People
into B&D will find bondage here, but not the safe and loving
sort they crave; people into D&S will find no power exchanges,
nor any loving submission or concern; people into S&M are the
ones most likely to enjoy this story, but it is not an S&M story,
in which people with complementary needs, to give and to receive
pain, come together to consensually satisfy their needs.  This is
a story about sadism w/o masochism, and as such is an evil story,
as much a horror story as it is an erotic story. Please do not read
it unless the most extreme examples of human evil interest you.

                                                SD



DIANE, Part 7
by SD


10. Slave Training: Sitting it out

"You really should be getting your training in how to move in high
heels - real high heels, not those 3" jokes you used to wear before
your lifestyle change", Mistress Electra told Diane, her irritation
very obvious.  "Slaves never wear anything under 5".  But if you
insist on dogging it because your feet are a little sore, well,
there are lots of things a slave needs to become acquainted with for
which you don't need to stand".

Diane was presently becoming very well acquainted with a variety of
punishment chair.  It was metal, and it's seat, back, and arms were
densely studded with steel spikes which were sharp enough to be
extremely uncomfortable but not sharp enough to puncture the skin.
Straps were stretched tightly across Diane's wrists, calves, thighs,
waist, and around her arms and abdomen just below the breasts,
holding her firmly in the chair and pressing the spikes into her
naked body.  Her hands were forced between two metal plates which
were pressed together so she couldn't lift a finger.  Usually the
subject's bare feet would be resting on either the sharpest spikes
or an electrified metal plate, but today a tub of ice had been
substituted, which was more therapeutic but only slightly less
uncomfortable.
 "Cold, slave ?  I guess keeping your feet in that bucket of ice
does make you uncomfortable.  I know just how to warm you up".  With
that the trainer shoveled coals from a brazier kept constantly
stoked into a tray and slid the tray under the seat of the chair.
Diane reflexively tried to bolt but the straps held her firmly in
place and her squirming against the spikes only increased her pain.
She quickly realized that remaining still was the best option she
had and restrained the overpowering urge to try to escape the heat.  

 "Very good restraint, slave", the trainer said as she removed the
tray of coals.  "And I do so appreciate restraint.  But we still
need some way to compensate for the ice so that, on average, you'll
have a comfortable body temperature".  With that she raised a
headrest and locked it into place, then grabbed Diane's hair and
pulled the blonde head back against the  headrest so she could
fasten a wide padded collar around Diane's neck.  She then dropped
a leather harness over Diane's face, forced a plug into Diane's 
mouth, and began turning several screws, tightening the harness so
that the slave's head was held securely in place.  The trainer would
periodically stop turning the screws to slap Diane's face; when
Diane's head didn't move in response to the blow she knew the head
was securely in place.  Clamps were then attached to Diane's eyelids,
preventing her eyes from closing.  Attached to the clamps were thin
plastic tubes from which a saline solution dripped onto Diane's
eyeballs at automated intervals.  
  "I'm so glad you realized that as painful as it was to be still
it would hurt more to move, and very pleased that you had the 
discipline to hold still.  It seems that at last you've begun to
see the light", the trainer said as she rolled a new piece of
equipment behind the chair.  A semicircle of five lights was
lowered into place directly in front of Diane, and then the world
became a sea of blinding white light as the bright, hot lamps were
activated.  Diane tried to turn her head and close her eyes, but
neither the harness nor the clamps had any give in them and there
was no escape from the burning light.
  "This should keep your head very nearly as hot as your feet are
cold.  Of course, it may not help your vision much, but a slave 
doesn't need her eyes for much; if you should be blinded it will 
save us the trouble of blindfolding you."  With that the mistress
left the room, or so it seemed to Diane from the receding click
of her spiked heels; though the punishment chair faced the doors,
Diane could see nothing but a wall of white light.  The light had
hurt from the first and the pain got steadily worse.  Though Diane
had been reasonably confident that they weren't going to let her
burn ( today ), she had no confidence that they wouldn't blind her,
the fear making the pain unbearable, and found herself madly
stuggling with her bonds despite the knowledge that it was futile
and would only increase her pain.

How long this went on was impossible to say, the world of light
and pain she now occupied was one where time and space seemed to
be suspended, one empty of everything but Diane and endless agony.
With the flood of bright light and her own sweat pouring into her
eyes she had no way of knowing if her eyes were damaged, but it
seemed incredible that anything could hurt so much without
suffering damage.  Had the mouthpiece allowed any sound to pass her
lips, she would have been screaming.

She must have passed out, for the next thing she was aware of was an
acrid stench from some object pressed against her nose.  Though she
was still staring into the lights and could see nothing, she guessed
correctly that someone was holding a vial to her nose to revive her.
"Seen enough ?", her trainer inquired as she removed the harness and
clamps. "I hope you're not afraid of the dark", she said as she fit
a black leather hood over Diane's glistening head.  Diane's eyes
still ached even in the complete darkness of the hood.  She was 
already drenched in perspiration and it was even hotter inside the 
hood, hotter and closer and the tight hood kept all her perspiration 
in and Diane soon found it hard to breath and the pain in her eyes
and the pain from the metal spikes pressing into her were forgotten
in a desperate effort to draw breaths, each of which was shorter
than the previous, her mouth wide as she sucked for air, the walls
of the hood filling her mouth and her perspiration clogging her
nostrils until she joined the darkness.

She was awakened by a bucket of cold water to the face.  While she
gasped for air the mistress easily shoved the plug back in her mouth
reapplied the harness.  She knew what the settings were to hold
Diane's head motionless, but slapped Diane a couple times anyway.
 "I just can't seem to keep you awake, slave", the trainer said. 
"I'll have to try harder to keep from boring you.  Since it seems
I'm not a sufficiently electrifying instructor to keep your
attention, I'll need some assistance."  She glanced at Diane's 
flushed face.  
  "You know, I think purple's a good color for you", she said, and
seized Diane's nose and held it closed.  Had Diane not been
immobilized her panic would have caused her to resist despite the 
dire consequences, but as she couldn't move all the trainer observed
was her blue ( though currently somewhat reddened ) eyes bulging
and her face darkening.
  "That's not quite the shade", the trainer said, laughing, as she
continued to hold Diane's nose shut, "but we're getting there". 
She took a clamp and placed in on Diane's nose as she went for a 
camera, tossing a comment over her shoulder as she went: "Don't go
away".  She returned with the camera and took several shots of the
asphyxiating slave, removing the clamp just before Diane would have
passed out and continuing to photograph the many shades of her face
as she slowly returned to her normal pale coloration, the process
protracted by the gag which the mistress elected to leave in place.

When Diane had nearly returned to normal, the mistress resumed her
previous subject. "Since you find the training so boring that you
keep falling asleep on me, I'll have to put a charge into the 
lesson", she said as she took a remote and pressed a switch, sending
a painful electric shock through the metal plates within which
Diane's hands were pressed, keeping the switch pressed down as 
gurgling sounds escaped from Diane's throat while she squirmed in
the punishment chair, one small bit of mercy being the way she
began to sweat all over, slightly, but just slightly, lubricating.
the spikes across which Diane's soft flesh was squirming.
  "Wasn't that thrilling ?", the mistress inquired, when at last
she released the switch.  Diane was dazed and barely heard her.
 "Oh, my, I still don't have your attention.  We need something more
entertaining for you.  That's the problem with slaves today, such
short attention spans".  Diane was coming around while the mistress
attached two long flexible arms to the back of the chair and bent
the arms so their ends were just in front of Diane's nipples.
  "Anybody home ?", the mistress said as she tapped Diane's face.  
"I don't want you to sleep through this".  She pressed on the end
of one of the arms, causing it to open wider, then put it over 
Diane's left nipple and released her grip, causing it to close with
surprising force on the slave's nipple.  The process was repeated
with the right nipple.  The mistress waited a bit, letting Diane
feel the pain of the tight clamps on her sensitive nipples before
moving to the next lesson.
  "You may think the clamps above and below your nips hurt, but the 
twin electrodes on either side of them should make you forget all
about the pressure.  With a configuration like this, the current
runs back and forth between the electrodes and over the nipple
between them, so there's little chance of you dying, much less than
there would be if I just taped a wire to your tit.  As for how much
it's going to hurt, well, I don't think words can describe it, it's
something you've got to experience for yourself. And you will", she
said as should pressed another button, sending a charge through the
arms that made Diane's breasts bounce and made her whole body 
tremble in the rigid bonds as she tried to scream through the gag. 
Now the salty fluid causing Diane's body to glisten was creating
a better conductor and causing more pain than it was alleviating.
Though Diane had never moved, it definitely seemed that she slumped
back into the chair when the current was switched off.
 "Wasn't that fun ?  I certainly enjoyed it.  But I'd like to get
your opinion.  Since the whole session is being taped I don't need
to get a recorder, we'll just remove this gag and record your candid
impressions", the trainer said as she removed the gag. "There you go.
Are you awake, slave ?  Don't tell even that bored you ! We'll have 
to turn the current up a notch".
  "Please...no... please...AAARRGHH...EEEIII...OOWWWW...AAAAA...."

By carefully modulating the current to the level of Diane's agonized
howls, Electra was able to keep the dungeon echoing with her screams
for many minutes.  Copies of the tape became one of the association's
best selling items.

11.  A Dance Lesson

It took considerable effort to awaken Diane after the start of her
recording career, but they finally brought her around.  She woke to
find herself suspended upright in a leather harness shaped like an
inverted "A" that passed over her shoulders, at which there were
hooks used to suspend her, had a vertical strap just below her 
breasts so she wouldn't slip out the sides, and came to the point of
the "A" in front and back at waist level, with a very narrow strap
running between the points on which the weight of Diane's slender
form rested.  Her wrists were fastened to her thighs, and her legs
were held apart by chains running from rings in the floor to cuffs
on her ankles.  There was some slack in the chains, but not quite
enough for her to close her legs, which would have allowed her to
reach the floor with the tips of her toes.  She was allowed to
discover for herself the futility of her efforts to reduce the 
pressure on her pussy.

"Slave, I've got a schedule to meet, and you're going to take a
dance lesson today no matter what shape your extremities are in.
So what if you can't stand ?  We'll have you dancing on air".  With
that the trainer smeared some glue on the insides of Diane's thighs,
on her ribs on each side, on her labia, and her shoulder blades.  
 "We don't want to burn you again, not today anyway".  Diane had
been sufficiently distracted by the crotch strap not to have
noticed that the greasy salve over her nipples covered electrical
burns; she shuddered at the thought of what uses would be made of
her tender tits in days to come.  The mistress then placed wires 
on the glue spots and secured them in place with tape.
 "In case you thought your tits had been used plenty today and 
would get a break now, you're right, they have been, but the only
way they'll get a break is if they split under the pressure", the
mistress smirked at the helpless captive as she extracted two long
thin needles.  Diane stared at the needles in utter terror, but she
knew that to ask for either mercy or information would bring
additional punishment, and besides, no mercy would be given and she
would learn the purpose of the needles only too soon.  The trainer
was please with Diane's restraint and nearly ecstatic over her
obvious horror.  When a bunsen burner was lit and the needles heated
over it Diane was visibly trembling and even paler than usual.
The mistress stood, adjusted the chains holding Diane's legs to pull
her legs taut, then stood before Diane holding the hot needles in
gloved hands.

  "Don't worry, slave, I won't keep you in suspense - about the 
needles - much longer.  They're going through your tits.  And you
know what ?  You're not going to scream; you're not going to 
speak; you're not going to make a sound.  Do you understand ?  This
is an order.  NOT A SINGLE SOUND COMES OUT OF THAT MOUTH". 
 
The trainer squeezed Diane's left breat in her left hand and pulled
it forwards, then began slowly inserting the needle through the 
breast near it's base.  Diane's head jerk back, her teeth gritted,
eyes closed, her face twisted in pain, but she didn't make any 
sound.  As the needle made its slow progress through the breast 
Diane jerked in the harness, which made the pain worse while she
beat her head in the air and clenched her fists till her hands
discolored as the sweat poured down her contorted and discolored
face.  At last the point exitted the other side.
  "That's one, slave. Very excellent self-control.  Do you think 
you can do it again ?"
 No, I don't, Diane thought. But I'll have to.
   "For what it's worth, the betting was 2-1 against your holding
out this long, 5-1 against you enduring the second.  Some people are
going to be very mad at you if you don't scream before the second
goes through, people who are going to have a lot of chances to make
you suffer.  Just thought you'd like to know".
  Diane's right breast was squeezed, and the second needle was 
inserted into it and pushed through.  As she had kept her eyes,
mouth, hands, and everything else she could clench tightly clenched
the whole time, she gave little external sign when it penetrated,
except perhaps her face twisted even more, though it was already so
barely recognizable that it was hard to tell.  As the needle made
it's way through the tears began to force their way under her
tightly closed eyelids and mingle with the sweat rolling through the
bizarre crevices of her barely human visage.
  "Oh, slave, you're in a lot of trouble", the mistress said as the
needle exitted Diane's breast.  "Some people just lost a lot of
money, and you can be sure they'll take it out of your hide some
day.  But it is your hide that's in jeopardy, no one else's - for
now".  With this Diane's face loosened slightly and the tears began
to pour out.
  "What the hell, go ahead and cry, I guess you've earned a good
cry".
Diane didn't need to be told twice, as the fear and pain and relief
combined and she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

The mistress let Diane cry herself out and loved every second of
it.  At last when the sobs abated, she got back to the task at
hand.
  "You know, of course, that we haven't even begun the lesson yet",
the mistress said as she attached wires to the end of the needles
through Diane's breasts.  She took a rag and cleaned up Diane's
face a little.  "Since you did such a good job so far, it would be
a shame if you said something you shouldn't before the session 
ends, so let's gag you good.  Open wide".  For once Diane didn't
mind having a too-large rubber ball pushed into her mouth.
 "Now for the dance lesson", the mistress said as she began 
flicking switches on a console.  "Each of these wires it attached
to a different spot.  As I push a key current will surge to that
spot, and I assure you it will hurt - a lot.  But why tell you when
I can show you", she said as she pushed a button and Diane's right
shoulder jerked.  "See ?"  She then proceeded to play a number on
the console, and Diane danced to the silent music, her body jerking
and spasming in response to each keystroke.  The trainer made
certain that the piece made frequent use of all the available keys
so the shocks hit Diane's shoulders, thighs, ribs, crotch, and most
frequently her breasts, the current passing through the needle in
each breasts and making the whole breast jump.  Diane had thought
she had no tears left, but as the dance went on that was disproved,
and her tears ran freely as her body bounced to the beat, till the
mistress decided, a bit belatedly, that the slave had had enough.
Tomorrow every part of her body would be so incredibly stiff and 
sore as to make training impossible.  All they would be able
to do with her would be to place her in a barrel of warm salt warm
and shock her for a while, then place her in a pool of human waste.

12. Punishment becomes Electra

The rack creaked another notch tighter, stretching the woman as
far as she would stretch before something snapped or tore.  At a
signal from the master, the redhead, mistress Sadie, began laying
into the victim with a short thick whip.  She worked without
haste, occasionally cracking the whip near the blindfolded
woman's head just to see her flinch, savoring the way her
subject repeatedly and vainly tested restraints no human being
could break.  She covered her subject's back and buttocks and
thighs with wide bright welts and Sadie herself was becoming as
hot as those welts seemed as her victim grimaced, biting back
the screams, her blonde head beating on the headrest, which was
padded but still not soft and was now lubricated with the tears
and drool of the subject, whose strength and pride at last failed
her and she screamed: "MERCY MASTER, PLEASE, I'M SO SORRY, I
WON'T FAIL YOU AGAIN !".  At this he raised a hand and Sadie
reluctantly halted her assault.  "Remove her blindfold, and then
you can leave us now", he said. "Are you sure, Master ?", Sadie
asked, the disappointment as obvious in her voice as was the
frustration in her face, and as was her lust was on her burning
bosom and the rigid nipples bare above her leather corset.  "Yes,
I'm sure. You can take one of the victims and finish up on them;
Miss Knapp, perhaps".  "But, sir, she's pretty far gone, couldn't
I take a fresher one ?"  "Don't be greedy, Sadie.  If Knapp's so
far gone it won't matter what you do with her, will it ?".  "No,
sir", Sadie said, her face brightening.  She turned sharply and
strode rapidly out of the room.  The master repressed a smile as
he heard her break into a trot as she reached the hall and headed
for her next victim.

"I'm very glad, Electra, that none of our captives see these
scenes.  We demand such discipline and obedience from them
and display so little ourselves".  Mistress Electra lifted her
weary head from the slick headrest and smiled weakly.
  "But Master, that's the joy of taking slaves, you can submit them
to disciplines no one would ever consent to".
  "True.  But YOU, mistress, had better start adhering to some
discipline.  The next gathering of the association, at which I
planned to show Mrs. Scott, is fast approaching, and I find that
she is too badly damaged to train today, which is not so terrible,
but I also learn that she not been trained to dance in 6" heels, 
and her feet are so badly battered she can barely stand and we have
no idea when we will be able to train her in high heels.  And why is
this ?  Because you indulged your foot fetish.  WHY ?  If you needed
to punish her an audio line of her kids crying would have been
sufficient.  That's why we're feeding the little brats".
  "I'm sorry, Master, I've never liked hurting the children".
  "A silly weakness, mistress, but one we've accommodated.
As you know very well, there are edited tapes of the brats screaming
when they heard their mother was dead, with overlaid voices and
some ominous metallic sounds, that would convince her they were
being torn apart.  We go to the trouble to make these tapes to
accommodate you soft mistresses, and you don't use them.  That
excuse won't work". The master pushed a button and the rack
tightened a notch.  "Try another".
  "AHH - She needed to develop her pain tolerance - OWW".
 "True, she did, and you've done quite well with her in that regard.
But there's lots of ways you could have done that; if you'd beat her
flat little ass till it swelled it might have been an improvement.
And even if that explained one bastinado session, it doesn't explain
a second when her feet were already damaged.  Lasting damage is an
acceptable result of play, but not of training".  He tapped the
button again.
  "ARRGH AHH AHH - yes Master, I'm sorry, she - AHHH - has such
pretty feet, I wanted to play with them - OH - I'm sorry Master".
  He tapped another button three times and the rack loosened.
"We must be honest here, Mistress.  Our association is based on
honesty, on a recognition that the world is split into predators and
prey, and that what makes humans unique among animals is that we can
choose which we will be, and we have chosen to be predators.  We
seize the weak and solitary when and where we wish, we cooperatively
stalk the strong, we lure the social from their herds and pull
them down.  We do whatever our minds can conceive of doing,
unrestrained by the rules others would impose upon us. This
freedom, this power, and the joy it brings, all derives from one
thing - a willingness to look honestly at the world and recognize
the truth.  For this association dishonesty is the only sin".
  "Yes, master, I'm very sorry, forgive me please", Mistress
Electra begged.
  The master thought a moment, then smiled warmly at her. 
 "No", he said.
He pushed a switch and the rack's engine revved up and the wheels
began to turn at full power.
  "OH GOD NO MASTER, PLEASE NO - AAHHH - OOHH - EEEEIIIYY", Mistress
Electra screamed as all her ligaments stretched and tore and the tall
woman started to grow, "AAAAAAA - ". As her joints broke, Electra
passed out, so she was spared the awareness of having her arms
ripped from her shoulders.  How disappointing, the master
thought; she never was tough enough.  The world was full of
people who wanted to work full time training slaves and torturing
victims, but it was still so hard to find good help.

Mistress Electra awoke the next day to find herself on a hook
that passed through her left side and came up thru her right; her
shoulders had been cauterized, her arms hung in a dungeon to
terrify a new acquisition. She had made previous mistakes, so when
the staff saw the hook hanging in the soundproof, glass walled
room off the staff lounge no one was surprised.  The staff played
with her for a couple days; she kicked some, so they broke her
legs.  She became lethargic and boring, so they ignored her. In
a few days some visiting guests had a bet concerning how long it
would take a hungry rat to strip the skin from someone's face.  Some
of the Association's physician members were able to recommend a
combination of drugs that would bring the still living Electra
briefly to full consciousness.  The bet was settled and cheerfully
paid.  Mistress Electra did not survive the test.

END, Part 7
