Kara Gets Payback

Isabel’s world had become a torrent of pleasure, humiliation and pain. Her body burned for release. The first step of her punishment had seen Kara recalibrating the ****-machine, using her gifts to tailor it exactly to Isabel’s body. It was a fiendish **** which held her forever on the cusp of climax. She’d shiver and moan and writhe, feeling the rhythmic pumping of the dildo, the thrusting of the toy in her ass. She’d rock back and forth, squeaking and moaning even as she tried to resist.

She would hold onto her hate, anchoring herself around it. It would guide her in the dark, as the goggles obscured her view of the world. She’d hold onto it, swearing vengeance, lashing out in silent rage like a wounded animal as the pleasure within her spiked and spiked. The wetness between her legs standing in contrast to her fury. By now, her clit would be aching, burning. Screaming to be touched.

But Kara never let that happen. She’d left it bare, knowing that any stimulation there could push her over the edge. And that wasn’t allowed. The very first lesson of her new life was that her orgasms belonged to her masters. She would cum when given permission and not one second earlier.

She hated it! She hated it and raged against it, thrashing and fighting against the machine. It was relentless, constant, pounding at her nerves, sparking and dancing across her skin. Soon, she’d be spasming and twitching, her nipples would be so hard! She would shake her head, trying to deny the truth, but how long could she fight for?

She wanted to cum!

She wanted to cum so much!

And the goggles… the machine… she felt them inside of her mind, twisting her and turning her into something else. Or at least, that was how she chose to see it. Truthfully, Kara had not set such a thing in motion. Kara had not changed her, had not given her new memories or even **** her to feel anything that wasn’t already there.

She’d simply set the machine to burrow down into her mind, churning and breaking the sedimentary layers of coldness and detachment that she’d built up over the years. You didn’t become like Isabel unless you could control your own emotions. Over time, you learned to dull your feelings. You learned to take pleasure in the pain you inflicted and enjoy the mastery it gave you over others.

Call it corruption, wisdom, experience or evolution, but in every case, it meant the same thing. You scabbed over your emotions, blocking out the ones that didn’t sit well. Muting the little voice telling you how horrible you were until one day you simply didn’t hear it at all.

But now the machine was ripping aside those scabs. The little voice wasn’t just back, it was screaming.

Why had she done those things?

How could she have inflicted that pain?

Every moment of dominance, every instant of self-satisfied sadism cracked across her mind, wreathed in a halo of regret and pain. The machine drove it into her like a hammer, smashing aside any pretensions or self-deception. Like a branding iron into flesh, it seared a truth she could not deny.

Pleasure and pain. Guilt, recrimination, regret and fury. Isabel boiled in them, her body writhed and kicked, aching, primal need screamed through her. She was held on the very cusp, on the very instant before a climax. Yet again and again it was denied to her. Again and again, she was shown what she had become. Memories once triumphant now replayed with stabbing guilt, and things that she had been proud of now inspired only regret.

But Isabel fought. That was her nature. She fought with bared teeth, refusing to submit even as the machine twisted and distorted her mind. She fought and snarled and struggled, swearing **** on Kara, on Richard, on any family they ever had.

On their whole damn bloodline!

But eventually, the aching, screaming need was just too much. She was trembling, she’d lost track of how long she had been in the machine. A week? A month? A year? She didn’t know.

She just wanted to cum…

After an eternity, the machine paused, the rhythm which had become the singular focus of her existence came to a halt. The goggles still enclosing her eyes, she could only sit and wait. Blind and helpless.

She felt hands on against the side of her head, the goggles loosened and for the first time since she had been put here, Isabel could see.

She saw Kara before her, clad in a white, silken dress. Her copper hair hung long, curling slightly near the tips where it refused to give up its natural shape. Her emerald eyes were wide, unblinking. Taking in every aspect of Isabel’s shame.

Isabel closed her eyes; the look on Kara’s face inspired long-lost memories. The ghostly phantoms of carnal pleasure, long fumbling nights and the lustful discoveries they had made in one another’s arms.

“Isabel,” Kara spoke. Her voice was soft but firm. “Has the training taken? Do you regret what you did? Don’t lie. I’ll know.”

Isabel tried to glare; her body shook, she tried to look away. She tried to have any control at all. But Kara's eyes were the only things in the whole world. Tiny, cold stars which drew her in and refused any possibility of escape.

She wanted to curse. She wanted to snarl. She wanted to barrage Kara with insults, comments and hatred.

But she didn’t have the strength anymore. The power she took from her sadistic history had been denied, the memories tainted with guilt and sorrow. What once had made her feel strong now made her feel weak and small. The screaming haunted her dreams during the rare times she was allowed to sleep.

“I…” She licked her lips. Her black hair hung loosely around her face, her arms ached. “I regret…”

The word ‘’regret’’ came painfully. Her mind spun. Did she really mean it? Even she didn’t know.

“Do you regret what you did? Do you regret your methods? Or do you regret simply that you got caught?”

Kara didn’t give her time to answer. She hit a button and Isabel’s restraints snapped open! Isabel stumbled, her body wasn’t ready to support her and she tumbled forward onto the cold, hard floor.

“From now on,” Kara said, “you’re going to serve Richard and me directly. You’re going to be our ****, Isabel. You’re going to be our slut.”

A smile touched her features, by Kara’s standards, it was a cruel one.

“It’s the same fate you had planned for me, so don’t expect us to make it easy on you. If you serve us well, if you prove that you really are sorry, then maybe you’ll get out of here. If not, well, the machine always has room and we have all the time in the world. Let’s start with your new uniform.”

Her new uniform turned out to be a maid outfit, though not the sort you’d catch any actual maid ever wearing. The part of Isabel which could still wonder about such things questioned how Kara had gotten it so far out here. Had she imported it? Had a runner bring it? Or maybe it was something from before…

In any case, its purpose was obvious. It was leather, far too tight. It compressed and pushed out her chest, forcing her breasts to stand prominent. It included long stockings, and a very short skirt, which didn’t even really have the length to conceal her pussy.

Why was it that wearing this was more humiliating than not wearing anything at all? It didn’t make sense! At least this stupid, degrading getup covered her chest and upper body to some extent! Yet as she donned it - piece by piece - she felt her face growing redder and redder. It was as if she were surrendering, making herself part of the fantasy.

Admitting that Kara had beaten her.

The uniform was uncomfortable, the stockings held up by a garter built which coiled about her hips. The look was made complete by high-heel stilettos that looked sexy but made walking a nightmare. In these, she could barely teeter!

But Kara wasn’t about to let it end just like that. As she paced and circled, forcing Isabel to stand still like a mannequin, she decided that the look wasn’t quite right.

“It’s not humiliating enough,” she said. “Do you remember when you had my prisoner? There’s no way you’d let me get away with something quite so dignified, is there? Undo the top. I want to see your tits.”

That word, ‘’tits’’ degrading, humiliating, blunt and uncivil. It smashed into Isabel like a hammer, and her fingers fumbled with the buttons, **** to bare her chest but carried forward by the momentum of the moment and the power that Kara had over her.

Kara produced a pair of weighted clamps. The feel of their metal teeth biting down against her sensitive skin thrashed through her. She hissed, the sound long and low, but even though her hands bunched into fists, she did not fight back.

At the touch of a button, the clamps began to vibrate. The heavy balls connected to her nipples pulled and tugged, mesmerising pulses of pain and pleasure flowed through her body.

The second addition was a small metal rod, shaped like a cock, which Kara placed between her legs. Isabel whimpered, the cold, metal intrusion felt alien between the soaking lips of her labia. Kara’s fingers skittered across her vulva, stroking her as the toy sank deeper and deeper.

Sitting on her knees, gasping on the workshop floor, Isabel had at least dared to hope that the vibrator would get her off. Allow her to orgasm. The nipple clamps pushed her so close already! If the toy buzzed as well, then surely she would finally be allowed to cum?

But that, as it turned out, was not the case. The dildo was not a vibrator, but a modified conductor and upon the touch of another button, Isabel would feel a crackling shock between her legs. The first time this happened, she squealed like a pig, crashing to the ground, her body convulsing in shock and pain. Her eyes were wide and unbelieving as she looked up at Kara.

“Make sure to keep that inside you at all times,” Kara said. “If we ever catch you without it, you’ll be punished.”

The throbbing rod loosed a static buzz as if to underline her words. Isabel could guess exactly what sort of punishment she would probably be given.

Kara put her to work, teetering back and forth across the villa, her body exposed. Her face flushing, humiliated beyond belief. She’d encourage her with the vibrating clamps, providing short, sharp bursts of pleasure whenever she felt that Isabel had done anything worth rewarding. When she was to be punished - which was often - it was with the other toy. The pain was sharp, crackling, spreading across her lower body in a coruscating wave of snarling red. It broke through her thoughts, and no matter how she braced, it never failed to bring her crashing to her knees.

She would never forget the first time that she had to beg for mercy. Kara had turned it on for some minor barb, an insult that Isabel had thrown her way. The feeling seared through her suddenly, and the world spun. Isabel fell to one knee, bracing herself against the far wall. Rising, spiking barbs tore through her with mechanical precision. Isabel had been ready to endure punishment, but not like this! She whimpered, her hips moved back and forth, grinding in pain and shameful pleasure against empty air.

“Please!” The words burned, but the feeling was so intense! “Oh god, please!”

“Now that’s a side of you I haven’t seen in a long while,” Kara grinned. “It takes me back, you know? Do you remember when you were like this all the time? Are you sorry yet, Isabel?”

The feeling was hot and tight, a tiny ball of crackling agony between her legs. She heaved, but even then she could feel the pleasure following the pain. The degradation, shame and humiliation. After all, didn’t she deserve this for what she had done? Wasn’t it only fair that she suffer in this way?

Her back arched.

“Please! I’m sorry! I-I-I’m sorry for everything!”

She kicked out weakly, Kara loomed over her. She extended a foot, grinding her heel between Isabel’s legs. Her clit sparked. The sensation of contact - direct contact - made her shiver with want.

“Oh god…”

“Tell me what you are,” Kara whispered softly. “Make it degrading. Make me sure you regret all you did.”

She shifted her foot back and forth, pressing down against Isabel’s clit. The other woman writhed, each touch rocked through her like the bolts of a distant god. Her throat felt dry, she was shuddering, whining, gasping pathetically.

“I’m a slut,” she whispered. “I-I-I’m a horrible person. I’m a monster! A whore who deserves to be punished in exactly this way!”

“Do you regret it?”

That same question again! As if Kara was trying to catch her up! Like she was trying to be sure that Isabel wasn’t just telling her what she wanted to hear.

Another touch of pressure against her bud. Another shocking wave lanced through her body. The rod inside her buzzed and stung, her inner walls closed about it, hugging it tight.

“Yes!” Isabel squealed. “Oh god, yes. I’m so sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m a pathetic whore who’s getting off to the feeling of being shocked! Please, please, please!”

“Please what, Isabel? You’ll need to be more specific than that. What do you want?”

“I want to cum,” Isabel whispered. “I want to cum so much…”

“You want to cum like a whore? At the heel of a woman you called your ****? You want to prove to us all just what you’ve always been?”

“Yes…” the word stabbed at her pride like a blade, shredding it with every passing moment. She whimpered, shivering and writhing. The toy had reduced itself now to avoid permanent damage, but it still surged between her legs. Crackling, prickling, reminding her just what it could do.

“Say it.”

“I don’t…I don’t want to…”

“Do you want to cum? Then say it.”

“Please!”

“Say. It.”

Isabel closed her eyes, feeling any last shard of the woman she’d once been slipping away.

“Please let me cum like a whore, Kara. Please let me cum like a slut. I’m begging you, I want it so much. I want it more than anything else I’ve ever wanted in the world! **** me, own me, humiliate me, just let me cum!”

Kara’s response was to move her foot, gently sliding her heel back and forth across Isabel’s clit. Isabel’s body spasmed, chains of heat and want lashed through her. Her hips rocked, grinding her clitoris against Kara’s boot as she begged pathetically for the red-haired woman not to stop. The knowledge of what she was doing filled her with shame, but not enough to make her stop.

She just wanted to cum!

She was so close now! So very close! Her muscles coiled and tensed, heat dotted her spine. A building, growing pressure pressed against her pussy. Her moans and squeaks and squeals filled the small room.

She was going to cum!

She was going to-

Suddenly, Kara pulled away. The feeling stopped, cutting off too late to prevent her orgasm but too soon to allow her to enjoy it fully. Instead of the explosion of pleasure, of screaming desire and satisfaction that she had wanted, Isabel felt an icy, aching ruin of a climax grip her and refuse to let her go.

When it was done - when she could think again - she lay shuddering, shivering, naked and ashamed under Kara’s boot·

“Well done, Isabel,” Kara said. “I think we can say that you’ve convinced me. Let’s move on to the next stage.”