Part 10: Some Time at the Spa

Face down on the landing pad and arms locked behind her back, Jane squirmed. Her erect nipples rewarded her with nibbles of pleasure each time they found a bump in the pavement beneath her. She was bound, suffering, and helpless to the whims of these SOBs. Enticed by her predicament, carnal passion slithered through her body.

While Jane was trying to wrest control of her conscious thought from her loins, another band was locked around each ankle. Incidentally, the hint at further bondage did not help in the battle against her wanton inclinations.

After latching the set of cuffs on her, the slavers counted down from three, alternating between themselves. The one to her right finished with a strong "lift!" and she felt her ankles being raised and pulled above her head. Her crotch and stomach left the coarse concrete, indents of the gravel lingering upon them, while her face and breasts were further pancaked against the asphalt. Looking out of her corner of her eye, Jane saw her steel anklets snap into a mechanisms on the walker's legs.

Having her legs bent behind her back in such a position was uncomfortable. Her whole body felt like it was being bent like Dr. Ocelot's cane when she tested it's strength before using it, but Jane's attention was mostly on her pussy. The fetters spread her legs and raised up the soft flesh of her womanhood for easy access; the air felt cool on her moist lips. Jane's eyes fixated on the extra large cod pieces the slavers wore. What if those metal canisters weren't an exaggeration? What if they had massive tree trunk cocks that they were about to cram into her cunt? Jane didn't think the hypothetical dicks would even fit, but a significant part of her welcomed the attempt.

Jane closed her eyes and reminded herself she was on a mission. There would probably be time to diddle herself after. Hopefully. But for now she'd better keep a lid on those thoughts. Her mind tried to focus on unsexy things like weapon manuals, or cold showers. "This water is a bit chilly."

Wait, had she imagined the thug saying that? Or...

A barrage of ice water smashed into Jane's pussy, answering the question. Her whole body gyrated madly under the frigid blast and she screamed her shock into the landing platform. Thug 2 concluded his partner's earlier statement with "but we need to get you cleaned up."

"So tough cock-ies."

It felt like a snowball-firing gatling cannon was bombarding her pussy, but after the initial shock, the helpless woman felt perverse pleasure at her own predicament. They hosed down her cunt; the burning cold was painful, and yet it felt so good. Her overwhelmed nerves were communicating both extremes simultaneously. The crashing geyser was loud enough to drown out Jane's wanton whimpers as she twisted and thrust her pussy into the pounding waterfall, trying to best expose her eager cunt to the torrential torment.

And then in an instant, it was gone. The perpetual blast of pleasure moved to less sensitive parts of her body. The air on her cunny felt hot and empty compared to the maelstrom that had been ripped away too soon. It might have been bearable if the liquid **** on her pussy had completely dissipated, but instead, it blasted up her thigh, leaving her pussy to only be teased by the tiny rivers that trickled down.

The thugs continued to spray less sensitive parts of Jane's body. The sub writhed in frustration as the sweat and grime was washed from her body in cool rivets. A sheen of water soon coated her naked body and clumped her hair into thick strands. She gleefully shifted to expose her breasts to the hose despite the discomfort propping herself up on her head caused. They ordered her to drink the freezing water as well; it wouldn't do for their new **** to dehydrate afterall. Jane did so, not only because she was indeed thirsty but also hoping her obedience would grant her more water masturbation, but she was nevertheless left wanting.

The drip-drip-drip of water signaled no such release was coming. Listening to the last bit of water slip out of the hose when it had been shut off was bordering on agony for Jane. As she groaned at the denial, the horny **** thought about begging. The crew liked hearing her try to speak around the gag, but it felt rude to speak when not spoken too. Maybe she should just be patient and try to lick their boots if the got close. That would earn her favor. Get a grip, you perverted slut! she internally railed against herself. She once again tried to reminder herself that she was on a mission and had no back up. Meanwhile, the thugs were discussing something. "Hey Princess, we were supposed to have you blindfolded by now, You won't tell on us, right?" he asked.

Jane thought the question might be rhetorical, but tried to shake her head anyway. The other interchangeable thug chimed in, "that's a good Ponygirl. We'll try and sneak you a nice big carrot later. Now get your face off the ground so we can activate the thing." Being bent into the concrete really made that tricky. Jane shifted, but couldn't find a way to stop doing a headstand. It was a moot point though because the walker started to lift her up. Actually, it seemed to be just spreading her legs wider, but the effect was the same; her head was lifted off the ground, and her thighs screamed in agony.

It became increasingly painful especially as Jane was lifted off the ground. The ever widening angle caused the walker's servos to pull harder because an increasing portion of their strength was being wasted as they worked against each other with Jane's joints caught in the middle. The **** squealed as her crotch, aching and ****, was further exposed. Thankfully, before the strain on her hips became impossible to bear, the slavers buckled chrome bands around her thighs that locked into ports on the walker and supported most of her weight. After only a few minutes Jane hung inverted; her spread legs cuffed at the ankles and thighs to a horizontal bar built into the walker for no doubt this very purpose. The collar's mechanical appendage that had created the gag extended and sprouted a leather blindfold studded with chrome robotics. The thick strap slid in front of Jane's eyes and **** her to endure the discomfort of her position in darkness.

Thugs 1 and 2 wasted little time. Jane felt the tingle of a disinfectant being swabbed over her vulva. Fear made her breath quicken as Jane imagined what they had planned for her exposed pussy. A sharp pain near her clit was her only clue. The prick was persistent and made the helpless **** squeal pathetically.

They were giving her a piercing she eventually realized as the pain drilled on even after the tool was removed. There had been a third hoop beside the earrings in the case, but surely that was too large to hang from her pussy; it was nearly as big as her earrings. Nonetheless, suspended Jane soon felt the slender ring flopping against her mons pubis. Each time the delicate metal bounced off her smooth skin, it gently tugged against her soft bits and teasingly rubbed her clit. The horny **** shivered. Were she upright, the jewellery would probably look like a bullseye around her pussy. Which made sense in a perverted way because she really wanted to slip a finger through the hoop and fiddle her clit like it she was a telegraph operator sending messages in Morse code.

Would it be impossible for her to keep a clear head in this mission? Jane knew she needed to focus on escaping, but the persistent grip of the collar around her neck, the cruelty of her bondage, and the helplessness of her exposure caused submissive thoughts to seep into her mind. Hoping the key to her escape would present itself she focused on the thugs.

"Okay, we'll go over the list again. Pre-operation disinfectant?"

"Check, and good thing too; it's a little late to put that on now. Piercing?"

An intense mixture of pain and pleasure radiated from Jane's loins when the slaver tugged the ring. "Check. Liquid bandage?"

The metal fingers felt like ice against Jane's burning cooch as an oily ointment was spread over her sweetened flesh folds. "Check. Is that it?" There was a sarcastic note lingering with that question.

"Of course not! Now we make sure it works!"

That was all the warning Jane got before her poor, wet, and so very eager cunt was **** to endure cold caresses from armored fingers. The fresh piercing was raw and inflamed. Each time it was brushed by the hard metal, waves of pain accompanied the pleasure like salt with sweetness; the depraved submissive debaucherously licked up the flavorful mixture. And how thick the sweet pleasure was; each caress felt glorious enough to deserve its own trumpeting fanfare, which was provided by her tortured, gagged cries.

As the suspended **** twisted in her bindings, she became aware how deeply the unyielding bands had her trapped. Not only had the leather and chrome imprisoned her body, but her mind as well. The constant pressure on her body, the grasp of the collar that grew tighter each time she moaned. The talented fingers moved expertly over her genitals rubbing on each sensitive area until the nerves were addicted to their touch than moving on to the next. They reached places Jane herself didn't know about. The sensations were more intense than anything she'd done for herself. Those naughty moments during her career when she'd snuck away to rub out a quickie with her panties hanging off one leg or the all too few times she indulged herself as captain between her sweaty sheets might as well have been in another universe. The satisfaction those petty moments held were but a candle to the bonfire that was currently burning between her legs.

However, the skilled hands never let Jane orgasm. She suffered tease and denial until a puddle of her arousal spread over her spread thighs and dripped down her belly. Quickly, the ****'s thoughts turned to depraved and degrading acts she could do for her tormentors, yet not to earn her an orgasm. No, as she slipped into her abyss of submission, she knew there was nothing she could do that would entitle her to such a luxury. Rather, it just seemed natural for her to obey without question or hesitation. Through her gag, the suffering submissive demanded to be commanded, to be used like a toy and then punished like the naughty slut she was. Her captors didn't seem to notice and began denying her pussy with a vibrator.