Your indecision Ruins Either Plan

The demoness sighs. "How sad..." She squeezes your chin and cheeks harder as she peers into your eyes. Despite wanting to do nothing more than run, you can't seem to escape her gaze. You finger the pistol in the folds of your breasts nervously, yet can't summon the will to draw it and kill your captor. She seems to pick up on your nervousness, and glances down inquisitively. "Hmm?~" She coos. Her voice takes on a sharp edge as she states, more than asks. "What's this!" She releases your chin, and plunges her hand into your corset. You blush as she fishes around beneath your breasts, and withdraws her prize. "A gun?" She quips. "You weren't going to use this on me were you?" She sighs, releases you from her gaze, and stands upright. "Dear Arvilla... You've fallen farther than I realized." She runs her fingers through your silky black hair. "Perhaps I was wrong to humor you... To allow you to keep your original body."

The pistol erupts into a brilliant blue flame in her hand, leaving nothing behind, then she sighs and looks at you sorrowfully. "I had such high hopes for you... But it was clearly not meant to be."

Turning her back to you, she snaps her fingers, and again the tinsel erupts from your collar and snakes to her outstretched hand. She doesn't control your body this time, rather she yanks cruelly on the cord, and this time it does knock you off your feet. You contort your body and plant your feet to resist her as best as you can, but she's either much stronger than you or some magic in the collar aids her, as with the lightest tug she flips you over so that you land flat on your face.

She's begun walking now, and doesn't seem to care whether you're able to rise to your feet or not. You slide and scrape across the ground, being **** by the collar, before finally, you're able to find the leverage to struggle to your feet... However as soon as you do, she yanks on the cord again, causing you to stumble once again. You **** as you fall at the wrong angle, but thankfully, swiftly find your footing and begin to trot behind her.

Other girls, and a few men in butler attire, begin to appear at the doors as you pass through the hallways, watching the spectacle of your humiliation. However, none seem very emotive, rather they watch on stoically, and silently. Down the hall, and down multiple flights of stairs, the mistress leads on and on. The surroundings slowly fade from the posh and luxurious furnishings you woke up in, to more utilitarian service corridors, to ugly stone and mold, until at last you reach your destination. An cold stone room, maybe twice the size of your bedroom, and much taller. The room is dark, save one corner lit with flaming wall sconces. It illuminates a podium with a large open book upon it. Despite the low light, you can see the silhouettes of a dozen different devices of ****, and bondage. The Mistress doesn't take you to any devices however, instead she stands you in the center of the room, and says.

"Spread your legs."

You hesitate, and her look of annoyance grows. Again she peers at you, and with an ethereal light glowing in the deep emptiness of her pupils, she states.

"Spread your legs..."

You still refuse to comply, whatever she has planned, you want nothing to do... You look down and realize your legs are spread. YOU spread your legs just like mistress... The demon... told you to.

Mistress turns to Nealie, and commands, "This is the last hour you will have arms, put them to good use." She gestures to something on a wall wrack, and Nealie promptly complies.

As she nears, you see a spreader bar, and as the woman kneels to fixate the straps around your ankles you turn your attention to the demoness, and demand, "What do you mean? What are you going to do her?"

"Even now you still care about this thing? She steps close enough for her breasts to be pressing into your face, and looks down at you. Her fingers run through your hair as she coos. "You should be worrying about yourself right now, my lovely."

You're distracted as you feel Nealie grab both of your wrists, and begin tugging them into some sort of sleeve behind your back. You grunt as it's suddenly pulled tight, keeping your arms straight at the elbow, and clasped together behind your back. Your hands have a little freedom, but there's nothing within your reach. Nealie then positions some leather cross section that makes an X over your chest, and attaches these straps to the sleeve binding your arms, to prevent it form slipping free. She again disappears from view, and the next thing you hear is the clicking of a chain being pulled up a one way ratchet. Your arms are slowly lifted, setting you off balance, and causing your face to plunge further into the mistresses breasts. The ratcheting sound continues until your hands are tugged painfully high, contorting your shoulders, forcing you to bend over, and perching you on the very tips of your toes.

The Mistress grasps your hair cruelly, and cranes your neck back so she can stare into your eyes. "Are you ready for your punishment?" She titters. "I must confess, I had hoped you would rebel... I've been preparing something special just in case." She releases your head, and you cast your gaze down again. You can hear her heels click as she goes to position herself behind the podium. You then hear the flipping of pages... And at last the beginning of her chanting.