Lisa's Interrogation

"Are you absolutely sure that you don't know anything?"

Lisa lay on the ground with her legs spread. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and the chain was still connected to her breasts and her pussy. Her legs were spread as widely as she could, even though she currently wanted nothing more than to slam them closed, and perhaps to cry for help. But there would be no help, and the very fact that she expected some would prove to David that he was right. She had to play the willing ****, she had to pretend that she accepted his authority over her. Even though right now he was using that authority to torment her. Lisa's skin was beaded with sweat, and she was trying not to squeal. Behind her back, her hands trembled.

Her naked skin felt hot. Very hot. Burning hot, in some places, in fact. That was because Lillian was currently standing above her with a lit candle, the burning wax of which she cheerfully let dribble onto Lisa's body. Each time it happened, Lisa would try not to squeal, biting her lower lip as her skin screamed at her to stop them, and her nerves blazed in alarm. There were tears in the corner of her eyes, and she was breathing heavily, trying to focus, trying to keep herself together. Splashes of hardened wax clung to her thighs, arms and belly.

She was gasping, breathing quickly as her body tried to process the pain, as well as the glee with which Lillian inflicted it.

"You know, Lisa, you really are a weakling. Why, I did this with Stacy all the time, and she didn't break for several days! And here you are, looking like you're about to pass out, and we haven't even gotten any on your cunt yet. Are you looking forward to that? You have to know it's coming, the feeling of hot wax between your little legs, that's what will make a **** feel alive!"

Lisa tried not to panic. she tried to control herself, she tried to think. But there was no move she could make, there was no out that she could take but to betray her sister, and she would not do that, even in the face of all of this. But even knowing this, the idea of the hot wax splashing between her legs elicited a sort of deep fear in her, made her twist and want to beg. Her heart was hammering, but she didn't let it undo her.

"I don't know anything," she said, "Please, I swear! David, I don't know what you're talking about!"

Another splash of wax took her in the chest, the leftmost part of it gently curled around her breast. Lisa hissed, her hands curling, fingernails biting into her palms. Heat bathed her body, the wax clung to her even as it cooled, making her shudder. She tried not to show just how powerless she felt, and how much she wished she were anywhere else.

"Shall I see if I can get the full splash on the breast next time?" Lillian said, turning to David. Lisa looked at him, saying nothing. Privately, she was at war with herself, part of her wanted to beg him for mercy, to ask him not to do this. Surely, he would listen? He didn't seem to be enjoying her pain exactly, but...but if she did, that would mean she was accepting him as her master. If she begged him, then she really would be lost, wouldn't she?

Yet, if she didn't, she knew full well that Lillian would enjoy tormenting her for as long as she was allowed to do.

A tiny dribble of hot wax started to dot her breast, Lisa squirmed, her body trying to edge away, but Lilian followed her movements. The wax felt red hot, searing her skin, and making her cry out, but Lillian was being sadistic with it, and let it dribble down slowly, in drips and drops. Lisa's toes curled, she threw her head back, but she couldn't escape the feeling. Gradually, Lillian turned the candle sideways, letting more and more spill out faster and faster, so that what had once been a slow stream suddenly became a rain of hot wax which made Lisa gasp and cry. She shuddered, her body screaming, her skin crying out for relief she knew wouldn't come.

Lisa's eyes snapped open as Lillian's next **** dripped right onto her nipple, the feeling was more intense, maybe because of the recent piercing. It made her want to cry and beg, her body was slick with sweat as she desperately tried to hold herself together in the face of the punishment. Her throat and mouth felt dry. All she could do was silently pray that Diana would find some way to help her, but her sister didn't even know what was happening. It was just David and Lillian and Lisa, alone together until they finally had had enough of her suffering.

The candle ran out of wax, and Lillian was **** to set it down beside the heater as she reached for another. Lisa was pathetically grateful for the break, she gulped and tried to gather her wits.

"Do you want to tell us yet?" David asked her.

Yes! Screamed some part of Lisa, some part of her that just wanted all of this to be over. I'll tell you! I'll tell you whatever you want, just stop!

She didn't say that. Even now, she refused to say that. Refused to break, refused to let David win. Her body was screaming for her to give in, but she refused.

"I don't know..." She said, "David, please..."

"Begging are you now? That's lovely to hear coming from you, but not as lovely as your screams."

He turned to Lillian.

"Decorate her pussy next, would you?"

Lillian's eyes gleamed.

"With pleasure."

Diana's heart was beating fast. She was sitting at her desk in a class, which one she didn't really remember at the moment. The teacher was talking about something or other, but she wasn't paying the least attention. She was waiting, every muscle taut and strained. The clit ring she had been **** to wear was brushing against her womanhood, making it hard for her to focus, but she did so anyway, for once able to brush past it. Sitting a few desks in front of her, there was the woman called Samantha. A pretty blond with tanned skin and deep green eyes. This was the first class that the two of them shared together, and the second of the prospects that Diana had looked into today. The first one, Tracy, had been easy enough to rule out. Diana had written that she would wear a specific set of clothing, and she had, even though Diana had learned that she hated said clothes. This meant that she would normally never wear them together like that and so, Diana was sure of her power over her. So Tracy wasn't her enemy. Samantha however, might yet be...

Diana was waiting, watching her every move. She tried to be careful about it, tried not to be seen, but it was hard. She felt like she was standing on the very edge, she had come so far, but if she wasn't cautious she could still ruin it all. She had to control herself, and she would. She would use every inch of her iron willpower, holding her body in place, pretending not to pay attention even though Samantha was currently the only thing in the whole of the class that she cared to listen to or look at.

She didn't know when Samantha would react to her order - or if she even would! Samantha didn't have the same sort of dislikes as Tracy, so it wasn't as simple as having her wear a set of clothes she normally wouldn't. Diana didn't know enough about her to guess how she would usually dress, or speak, so it had come down to something a bit more crude.

At some point during the class, Samantha would say her line, and Diana could scratch her name off the list, or she would not, and Diana would know that she was the one who had caused all of this. There was no other ending for this now, and Diana felt her heart beating fast. Anticipation and dread mixed together in her mind, but she made sure not to let it show Focusing, drawing herself out of herself, letting her body sit naturally even as her mind worked furiously. Planning, plotting, thinking.

The class progressed. Diana waited with baited breath. Samantha did everything you would expect from a student, but not what Diana had told her to do. Diana felt her tension rising as the hour drew to a close, the class would end soon, and if Samantha hadn't done it yet, then...

Samantha stood up, drawing the attention of the teacher. Diana edged forwards, watching intently. But she didn't say what she was supposed to say, instead, she asked a question about the subject of the lesson. The teacher responded, and the two spoke for a few minutes before the teacher suggested that Samantha come to the front of the class and draw on the blackboard. Another few minutes passed, the two of them conversed, and then the teacher spoke to the rest of the class about what Samantha had asked.

Diana was becoming more and more sure that Samantha was the one with the rulebook, but then, just a moment before the class ended, she turned to the teacher and spoke.

"I don't understand any of this, it all seems so complicated. I should have just been a college sex **** instead."

Almost immediately, she realised what she had said, her face went red, and her eyes went wide. Horrified and blushing, she rushed from the room, trailed by rumours and muttering from the rest of the class. Diana watched her go. She would have a reputation after this, and probably not one she wanted, but Diana had not been feeling very merciful for someone who had taken part in her sister's torments.

She sat back in her chair, feeling the tension drain out of her body. Suddenly, she felt absolutely exhausted, wrung out like a sponge.

Samantha wasn't the one with the rulebook. Neither was Tracy.

That left only one.

Gordon.