Part 17: Bound to Run

Anticipation trembled throughout Jane. Binding herself for another's pleasure already felt unnatural and naughty, like masturbating in public, but being **** to do it with her mouth was all the more objectifying. In these slayers' cruel eyes she wasn't a human with arms, just a thing with holes to fuck. A dampness collected in the slut's loins as she fantasized about just how many degrading tasks she could be **** to do with only her mouth.

Jane sank to the floor and brought her ankle to her mouth, a position that painfully tugged at the flexible officer's joints. The task seemed simple enough, close the cuff and flick the lock, but try as she might, Jane couldn't bring her ankle to her mouth. Sitting on the floor and knees pointed outward, the naked **** waved her ankle in front of her face for a couple minutes, watching the open cuffs jingle while making no headway.

A mocking chuckle caused the flustered woman to look up at Fisk who stared down at her with a broad smile of pure delight. With a surge of humiliation and arousal, Jane realized her position lewdly displayed her wet pussy and tight asshole for his viewing pleasure.

Wetness continued to accumulate between her spread legs, as the exposed woman tried again. She placed her left ankle above her right knee then leaned forward. Sharp pains tugged at her hip joint and crept up her lower back, but the contorted **** pushed on, drawn to the chrome cuff almost encircling her ankle. Her left elbow wove behind her left thigh for just a little more leverage. Her soft tongue wagged in the air, stretching as far as it could, making it mere millimeters from the latch. Her hot breath fogged the chrome surface; her tongue grazed the mechanism, leaving behind tiny beads of her silva. A jolt of pain up her hamstring caused her ankle to quiver. Jane watched in fear as her would-be fetter threatened to fall off, but ultimately didn't. Afraid it would next time, Jane eked every last bit of bend out of her aching joints, moving her tongue forward the final quarter inch to lock the cuff. It snapped shut with a satisfying click that caused an excited rush to blossom from Jane's cunt.

She repeated the process for her right ankle as quickly as possible, waving her feet in the air like an eager whore. Jane tried to tell herself she was just avoiding another shock from the collar, but the throbbing need in her loins told a different story. It demanded that she hear the lock click shut again, that she feel the shackle hugging her ankle, and that she willingly give up even more control.

After the task was done, a quick tug of the leash pulled Jane up and balancing awkwardly on her feet. "The other goal of this exercise is to reward you for all the work you put into maintaining your body." Fisk's explanation continued. "That's why I brought this lil' buddy," he added, producing a crotch harness. Jane's eyes went wide with shock as she focused on the monster dildo intended for her tight pussy. "Impressive ain't it; I was going to lube it so it'd slide in easier, but we both know you're plenty slippery already."

If Jane's love tunnel hadn't been begging to be penetrated again since the Turnk pulled out, it would have instantly started at the sight of the girthy shaft. But even with all the lady lube threatening to trickle down her thighs, Fisk had to provide a sizable amount of **** to cram the oversized phallus up the moaning woman's pussy; Jane was briefly lifted to her tiptoes before sliding back down the shaft with a squelch. The surrounding harness was buckled tight around Jane, dimpling into her supple skin. The front strap passed through her oversized clit piercing, putting a teasing amount of pressure on her overly sensitive nub. Spurred on, her vaginal muscles reflexively twitched and subtly milked the unmoving shaft within her.

While the aroused woman struggled to get used to her new hard-wear, a second harness was put over her head. It was a bridal with metal plates that blocked her peripheral vision and a bit, which was placed between her teeth just as her other gag retracted into her collar. Jane moaned quietly at the animalistic nature of her new headgear became apparent. A firm tug on her leash immediately had the submissive woman walking. The erect shaft within her remained rigid, yet with every step, its unyielding nature made it feel like it thrusting cock or a large tongue writhing within her. Knowing full well how teasing each step would be with the dido inside her, Jane whimpered for mercy when she was led to the treadmill.

It was surprising (and if Jane was honest, disappointing) that her asshole had remained empty for this long, but she saw this would soon be rectified. As she approached the treadmill, a long chain descended from the ceiling until it reached waist height, ending in a hook with a ball tip. With a mixture of hunger and anxiety, Jane eyed the obvious anal violator while stepping onto the inactive exercise machine, keeping it in her vision as long as the rigid collar and pony-blinders would allow. The dangling chain clicked against her skin like a cool waterfall as she walked past it. Fisk securely connected her leash to the treadmill's controls before stepping behind her. Jane listened intently to the slaver as he moved and raised her ass, presenting her lube-dripping pussy when he was behind her; she still didn't relish the idea of a dry insertion and hoped to feel the hook's blunted tip on her eager cunt before it touched her anus. But Fisk saw no need to waste time on such mercies and jammed the cold steel hard into her ass. With only traces of pleasure to mix with the grating pain, Jane cried out pathetically and desperately willed her rosebud to bloom for the intrusion. It worked, but the **** didn't stop once the large bead passed her tight sphincter. Immediately after the insertion, the cruel ex-commander tugged hard on the chain, lifting Jane off her feet for several seconds while she screamed and kicked helplessly.

"Not a painslut, huh?" asked the sadistic slaver after he lowered Jane back down, "more of a humiliation-happy submissive?" He gave her a loud slap on the ass. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it; plenty of scum will actually pay extra for a **** that doesn't like having electrodes clamped on her nipples." He laughed again, reveling in the twitch of fear that slithered up Jane's spine. "See, I'm one of the nice masters; not only did I set the coochy harness to give you a bonus every half-mile, but I'm also let you listen to music." With a metallic tinkling, Fisk pulled a handful of mini wind-chimes out of his vest pocket. There were five of them, triangles with silver bars dangling from their bases. Each was applied to one of Jane's hoop piercings, providing a teasing tug to her earlobes, nipples and clit. He flicked the treadmill on, and walked off adding, "don't let your ass get too far back; I've turned on the encouragement."

With the high-heeled shoes and hobble chain, Jane couldn't run on the treadmill. It was a struggle to even walk as fast as the cycling band beneath her, and she felt like a bimbo awkwardly clambering forward in her heels. With each step her breasts jiggled and the chimes attached to her nipples danced musically. It was nothing compared to her clitoral piercing however, which wiggled against her sensitive spot with a maddening gentleness. All too often, Jane caught herself thrusting her harnessed crotch subconsciously hoping the leather strap would press the large silver ring into her clit or that the swaying jewelry would treat her love-nub to more than just a fleeting caress. It made it damn difficult to walk sometimes; fortunately there was a hook in her ass to painfully keep her upright.

There wasn't much Jane could look at to distract herself from constant teasing; the head harness only allowed her to look forward. Her treadmill's display simply said "slaves don't need to know their exercise data." The only other thing worth looking at was a mural painted on the wall in front of her. Several voluptuous women, probably modeled by the Luxvan, were across its surface. One was kneeling at the feet of what was probably supposed to be Fisk and looking longingly at his crotch. Another part of the mural depicted a woman on all-fours taking two tentacles from behind with an open-mouthed expression that was equal parts shock and ecstasy. The not so subtle message was printed in bold letters below, "you belong on your knees." Bound as Jane was, she was still able to roll her eyes.

The scuttling **** settled her vision on one of these pictures. It showed a petgirl crawling forward with an eager gait. The blissful image reminded Jane of when she had crawled out of Dr. Ocelot's chamber. It was so much simpler then, just her and the beautiful doctor. Cooing softly to herself, Jane thought back to that steamy afternoon, when the dominatrix had stretched her limits so expertly. Did she know what she was in for when she walked pridefully into that woman's den? Obviously not, but a part of her must have expected; Jane still vividly remembered the pulsing anticipation each time she locked one of those steel bands around her wrists. It had been subtle but ran deeper than the powerful mix of shame and lust she'd felt binding herself under Fisk's hungry gaze. As the **** continued to put one foot in front of the other, she wondered if these slavers would use any of the other techniques that Dr. Ocelot had.

She didn't have much time to dwell, however, as soon the treadmill's view screen flashed with "half mile reached: reward earned." Immediately, this reward became shatteringly apparent; both the long shaft within Jane and the section of harness pressed tight to her nethers began vibrating like the butt of an off balance gatling laser. A thunder storm of pleasure surged through her loins. Jane gasped and would have stopped walking if it weren't for the short leash connected to the front of the exercise machine. Expectedly, she only managed half steps, slipping slowly back on the treadmill as her waters of pleasure rose to form a climactic wave.

Jane knew her posture was collapsing, but with an orgasm so close, the slut didn't care. In fact with this much pleasure it felt only natural to bend forward and present her fuckholes. And present she did; her feet were being slowly dragged back by the treadmill's belt, but the firm hook in her anal tunnel forcefully kept her ass up even as the leash pulled her neck forward and her upper-half approached horizontal. In this position, looking quite like the sex **** she knew herself to be, Jane's breaths became rapid and whimper-like. Her body shook, the chimed piercings jingling with her jiggling curves. The orgasm sent gentle heat, akin to slipping into an already warm bed, swimming through her body, making Jane cry out with delight around her bit. Her vibrators calmed to a soft buzz milking the last of Jane's climax from her. Still barely managing to stumble forward in her awkward position, Jane only got three blissful pants out before she heard the swish of the encouragement device getting ready.