Thứ Hai, 27 tháng 1, 2014

breaking batgirl 4

Besides their catsuits, they wore white latex opera gloves, but these had fingers, unlike the ones she had been forced to wear during her second capture. On their heads, they wore a latex helmet that covered their entire head, including their faces, leaving only two brass gromets where their noses would be underneath, as well as mirrored lenses covering eyeholes over their eyes.

The women came towards Selina and reached up to the bar she was suspended from. With a soft click, the bar separated from the chain suspending it, allowing the slave to drop her arms. But she could not bring her wrists together, of course, as they were still secured on opposite ends of the bar. Then, one of the women kicked the back of her knees in, forcing her to fall on all fours. The other woman bent down and smacked her hard on her right buttock.

“Ouch!” Selina complained.

“Silence! Or the gag goes back in, understood?” the man admonished.

Selina nodded her head. She followed the two women as they walked towards the tub. She could not help but look up at the twisting butts of the two women marching ahead of her. She suddenly found herself feeling horny again. She was surprised at this. She was bisexual, of course, and had done both men and women, both in her days as a prostitute, and subsequently as a socialite and as Catwoman. Being aroused by good looking women did not surprise her. What did surprise her was how the intense, almost nympho, triggering of her libido seemed to cross over from being abused by the men to being kept in her place by other women.

By other slaves, Selina corrected herself. Looking up between the legs of the two women, she realized that there were two vague circles pressing against the tight crotch of the catsuit of each of the women. She knew all too well these were. They were butt plugs and dildos as well. Obviously, these women were just as stuffed as she was.  

Selina was led to the tub and she climbed in carefully. The two women climbed in after her, and one of them picked up a shower head attached via a metal tube to a tap at the head of the tub. She turned it on and began to spray water onto the slave’s sore body. She used a gloved latex hand to rub her body as she sprayed the water. She worked the spray back towards her pussy, washing away the grime on her cunt.

Selina moaned as she felt the woman insert her fingers into her slack sphincter, and twirl it around, before pulling them out, then penetrating her vagina to repeat the process. She lifted her head up and turned back with half closed eyes to look at the woman molesting her. Her eyes rested on the firm breasts that were poking provocatively at the thin rubber covering them, their nipples obviously engorged from arousal.

The woman now worked the spray under Selina’s body. Her fingers now lingered over her firm breasts. As water was sprayed up at the gourds, she kneaded them, twirling their nipples. Selina could only moan at this treatment.

The woman lifted the shower head up now and sprayed Selina’s head, wetting down her hair and face, flushing away the collection of perspiration and dirt that had accumulated under her cowl.

The other woman now stepped in. She took a sponge from the side of the tub, and a bottle of soap. She squeezed a generous amount of soap gel into the sponge, and lathered it until it was soapy. She then began to rub the sponge all over Selina. Once again, she moaned as she felt the roughness of the sponge play over her body, especially when it was rubbed into her asshole and cunt. She felt her body become more and more horny at this treatment. When the second woman finished sponging all over her body, including a vigorous scrub of her head, the first woman sprayed the soap off of her body until she was clean.

The two women now led Selina out of the tub. As she remained on all fours, the two women took towels from racks on the side of the wall nearest to the tub, and rubbed her dry. Once again, they paid special attention to her breasts and her cunt, causing the nympho slave to become still more aroused.

The two women now stood to one side, leaving Selina to brew in her sexual desire. The man now came up to her, and looked down at the softly panting slave.

“Her hair is in a mess.” the man said, “Shave it all off.”

Selina’s eyes opened wide at this command, as if she was horrified, but she said nothing. The man smiled again in triumph. He knew that he had touched something in her, but she had kept silent, like a proper slave should.

The two women disappeared from view. When they returned, one of them was carrying a battery powered shaver. While the other woman now held Selina’s head firmly, the first one switched it on. Its malicious buzz filled the room as the woman set to work, shaving the raven black locks off of the slave’s head, leaving a short fuzz on her scalp. When they were done, one of the women took a handheld mirror and held it before her face to see her new haircut. She had to admit it was not too bad, actually. In fact, it reminded her of her androgynous haircut when she was a professional dominatrix.

The man came around again, and seemed please with Selina’s new look as the other two women brushed any remaining hair off her nude body.

“Not bad. On your feet now, Selina.” the man ordered.

Selina obeyed, climbing back onto her feet and holding her body erect before him, her breasts pointing proudly out as she tilted her buttocks back, feeling a strange pride at displaying her body before the man. She could not understand the sensation, but it was almost as if she appreciated being appreciated by the man as he looked up and down her body.

The man seemed to make up his mind about something, then snap another command.

“Dress her up. I’m bringing her out for dinner tonight.” the man ordered.

The two women immediately grabbed Selina’s arms and led her through the door that they had come in from. She was surprised to find herself now in a walk-in wardrobe that would have been the envy of any socialite in Gotham, filled with a variety of dresses and clothing, both fetishistic and normal street clothes.

“Bend over, slave, and spread your legs.” the man ordered. Selina did she was told, bending over and placing her manacled hands on her knees, pointing her cunt back at him. The man reached forward and took the clitoris ring off her clit hood, before disappearing. Glancing back, she saw that the man had retrieved the dildo and butt plug that had been placed on her from the other room. They had been cleaned up, and were freshly lubricated. As they were inserted back into her, she found that they were no longer as uncomfortable as the first time they had been imposed on her.

As the man had not given her permission to straighten up, Selina remained bent over. The man went over to a chest of wooden drawers and withdrew something. It took a while for Selina to recognize it. It was made out of pliable transparent plastic, but it was shaped in the classical ‘Y’ shape of a chastity belt. It was secured by means of a small lock, the tiny flat box of which was bolted to one end, with steel tongues on the other two ends to complete the other half of the lock. He came over to where Selina was, and quickly fitted the belt in place around her waist, and over her crotch.

“Straighten up. But keep your legs apart.” the man ordered.

The women now came forward. One of them held something in black lace, with black ribbons emerging from its four corners. She slipped it between Selina’s legs, and picked up two of the ribbons while her colleague picked up the other two. The pairs were mated together separately, one set each over one of her hips, to leave her wearing a black lace thong over the transparent chastity belt.

The women retreated back to the wardrobe again, only to return with a corset stretched open between them. Unlike the rubber one she had just recently one, this one was made out of black satin and steel boning, and closed by hook and loops, which the women secured up her back once they’ve enslaved her torso with the garment. They came around to the front, and lovingly molded her breasts into the black lacy cups of the corset, leaving her breasts pressed together and upwards into a deep cleavage.

The women went over to another corner of the wardrobe, and came back with a pair of shoes. These were high-heeled sling-backs, whose body was made from black PVC. The heels, although high for most people, were a mere five inches compared to the horrid boots she had been forced to run in. Selina lifted back first her right foot, then her left foot for the women to put the high heels on her, boosting her height up once again, and putting her torso into that enticing arch, with her butt tilted back and her chest tilted forward.

“Put some make-up on her.” the man ordered. The women now escorted Selina over to a vanity top. They seated her down on a cushioned bench. She sucked in her breath as the dildo and buttplug inserted into her was pressed up. She involuntarily clinched her buttocks. The women worked quickly on her, applying a base of pale foundation, followed by flashy red rogue, and purple eyeshadows. Her eyes were then lined with thick eye-lining, before thick mascara was applied to her eyelashes. Finally, her hips were painted a deep burgundy red to set off their pouty shape. When Selina looked at herself in the mirror again, she must admit that the women had done a very professional job, and all her best features, from her thick lips, to her high cheekbones, to her large green eyes, were beautifully highlighted.

Then, the women brought her up to her feet again, and Selina was brought back to the center of the room for the man’s inspection.

“Very nice.” the man breathed. He walked around Selina, admiring her beautiful body, clad now in lingerie. She lowered her eyes demurely.

“But if we are to go out in the open, you will have to be suitably restrained to prevent any escape attempts.” the man added.

Before Selina could comprehend what he meant, the two women seized her arms again. While one of them held her elbows against her sides, the other took a long black satin ribbon, and wrapped it around her upper arms and torso, crossing under her breasts. She crossed the ends of the ribbon behind her back and brought them over her chest again, this time above her breasts, before pulling the ends behind her again. She knotted the two ends together behind her back, pinning her arms to her sides. There were still some lengths remaining free at the ends, which she now slipped under the arms of Selina. She pulled the free ends out from under her arms, before looping them down over the satin lines running around her breasts, and back under her arms again, before pulling them round behind her back. She knotted the ends together a second time, adding the touch of a neat little bow, as if Selina was being gift-wrapped, which in a sense she was.

“Put your legs together.” the man ordered, and Selina obeyed.

The woman retrieved a second black ribbon, and this time doubled it and tied the loop end around Selina’s clinched waist as a satin belt. She pulled the running ends through the loop, and pulled them down, as if she was going to tie a crotch rope. But instead of inserting them back between her legs, she turned the lines perpendicularly, and loop the free lines around her upper thighs, just underneath her buttocks, round to the front again, where she tucked the running ends through the bent formed when she first turned the lines. She looped the lines back the way they came, around her legs again, under her buttocks, back to the front again, where she now tied the running ends to the vertical lines coming down from the belt portion of the bondage. This left Selina’s legs now trapped together. She knew she could still walk, but she would not be able to make any larger movement, such as kicking or running.

“Her mouth.” the man demanded.

One of the women now grabbed Selina’s lower jaw and the top of her head, and forced the former open. The other woman went over to the wardrobe and returned with a black lacy satin panties. It was a large pair that would have covered the whole of Selina’s lower hips, but they were not meant for her crotch. The woman folded it into a square, then inserted the panties into her mouth. The black satin garment almost disappeared between her lips. The woman then took a black ribbon. She forced it in between Selina’s jaws and between the fold of the square of satin in her mouth, before pulling it around her head to tie it behind the back of her head. When the first woman released Selina’s jaws, her mouth closed over the panty, and there was almost no hint that she was gagged, with the exception of the black ribbon emerging from the corners of her mouth. This was soon solved when the women took a black wig, cut in a bob style, and placed it over her head. The sides of the wig came down the sides of her cheeks and neatly covered the corners of her mouth, making it seems as if there was nothing more untoward than a rather forced smile on her lips.  

The women went back to the wardrobe and retrieved a black pencil skirt of satin. It was zipped back on the back, which they opened for Selina to step into. When they brought the skirt up to her hips and zipped it in place, she realized that the dress forced her legs together, like the hobble skirt she had been forced to wear on her training.

The women retrieved another piece of clothing and came back to Selina. It was a black satin shawl, which was closed in the front by a hidden heavy duty zip. They opened it up, and draped it over her arms, leaving her shoulders bare, but when they wrapped it tightly around her and zipped up the hidden zip, Selina found that the tough satin squeezed her arms in, adding its own restriction to the binding of black ribbon around her arms.

The women next took a pair of black satin gloves of unique arrangement from a drawer. Selina saw to her surprise that they were linked together at the fingers by a small clutch bag of black patent leather. The arrangement soon revealed itself when the women unhooked the clutch bag from the gloves, and put these on Selina. She found that although they appeared to be regular opera gloves on the outside, the fingers had in fact been stitched together, and she could not separate her fingers from each other. She could only use her thumbs. There was also a loop of satin under her wrists. These were actually the exposed portion of black satin ribbons that went around her wrists in the glove, twice. When the loops were pulled out, the ribbons constricted around her wrists, gripping them tightly like bindings, which in fact they are.

The small clutch bag was actually a critical component of the bondage. Behind the bag, two snap-hooks had been fitted. They brought it up to Selina, and placed the hooks through the satin loops of her gloves. These now linked her wrists together like handcuffs, with the stiff bag preventing her from bringing her hands together to liberate herself. Her thumbs were now folded over the top of the bag, and captured by tiny ratcheted cuffs, which prevent her from relinquishing control of the bag, and thus ruining the illusion.

Selina was now led before a tall mirror. She must admit, if she had not known, she would not have guessed that the figure looking out at her was, in fact, in bondage, with her arms bound to her torso, her wrists secured together, and her thighs very effectively hobbled. Of her gag, there was no sign at all, except her fixed smile, which looked a little grotesque, but not noticeably so.

“Very good.” the man said. He grabbed Selina by the left arm, and now led her out of the room via a different door she had been brought in by. They went down a posh looking corridor, which reminded Selina of a posh hotel. She would never have guessed that behind her was a place where sex slaves were being kept in bondage and torment.

The man turned a corner and Selina found herself looking at a crowded lobby of a hotel. The man’s grip tightened, in case she made any attempt to escape, but she was too well bound to try anything of that sort. Her eyes darted from side to side to see if anyone noticed that she was actually bound, but apart from admiring glances from men and women in the lobby, she was marched uneventfully through the lobby and out the door, where a long black stretched limousine was already waiting. The doorman held the door open as she was marched up to the car.

“Get in, sweety,” the man said ironically, as he bent her firmly over. Selina contemplated for a brief moment making a move to try to draw attention to her predicament, but the dildo and buttplug inside of her suddenly roared to life. Her legs suddenly turned wobbly again, and she half fell into the back of the limousine.

“Careful now.” The man said, giving her raised butt a tight slap, turning to smile at the astonished doorman, and gave him a fat tip before climbing into the limousine. The doorman thanked the man, took one last lustful look at the shapely woman now on her hands and knees in the roomy back compartment of the limousine, and closed the door firmly.

Now safely shielded by the dark-tinted windows of the car, the man hooked a finger through the ribbon gagging Selina, and turned her to face him.

“You were naughty just now. I think you should be punished.” the man said. He reached up and unzipped the back of Selina’s skirt and slipped it back and down, uncovering her rump. He raised his right hand, and brought it down in a powerful slap.

“MMMMPH!” Selina cried into her panty gag. She bucked from the blow, surprised at how painful it was.

The man delivered another slap, eliciting another cry from Selina. He delivered a third slap, and this time, she bucked her head back, throwing back the black strands of her wig, exposing the ribbon of her gag. The man continued slapping her buttocks until they were both glowing red.

“Will you be obedient now?” the man demanded. Selina nodded her head vigorously.

“Good.” the man said, “Now turn around to face the front.”

Selina did as she was told, shuffling around to face the front as her hands rested on the clutch bag she was cuffed to. She felt the man untie the right set of ribbons of her thong, and the tiny garment slip down her left leg. Then, the back of her chastity belt was undone, and the crotch strap pulled back from her crotch. Soon, the dildo was slid out of her and placed on the seat next to the man. The man then undid his pants, and before long, he was fucking her in her cunt.

The limousine took another half an hour to arrive at a posh restaurant, by which time the man had gave Selina a good fucking, and had restored her chastity belt, thong and skirt back into place. He forced her to kneel on the floor of the limousine until they were at the restaurant, when he pulled her back onto the seat, for appearance’s sake. When they reached the restaurant, he got out first, and reached in to take her right hand, ostensibly a gentlemanly gesture to help her get out, but actually imposing a painful and firm grip to pull her out. She meekly climbed out of the car, as gracefully as she could. The doorman hardly glanced down at her as she got out, and straightened up.

Outside the door of the restaurant, a row of potential patrons were in-line, waiting to get in. The man, of course, did not have to wait, but was ushered straight into the crowded restaurant. Selina’s entrance drew much attention from the other patrons, but they too seemed not to notice that she was actually bound under her clothes. She and the man was efficiently ushered to a small room, where they could dine privately.

Selina was rather impressed by the room. It was on a small balcony jutting out into a bay, filled with luxurious yachts. On the opposite shore of the bay, she saw the lights of a strange city, including commercial skyscrapers rising high above the bay, shining brightly in the gathering darkness of the evening.

“Sit.” the man ordered, pointing to a chair set next to a candle-lit table opposite another empty chair. Selina marched over to the chair, and lowered her butt onto the cushion. She winced as her buttocks were still raw from the punishment she had received, not to mention the way the dildo and butt-plug were pushed deep into her. The man now took the other seat and picked up a bell, and rung it.

Immediately, the door opened and waiters came in with covered dishes, which they set before the man and Selina.

“I hope you will forgive me darling, but I ordered beforehand. I’m sure you will find the dishes to your liking.” the man said ironically. The waiters raised the covers to uncover delicious smelling tomato soup.

The waiters turned and left, closing the door behind them. The man now stood up and went around to where Selina was seated. He picked up the bowl of soup and placed it on the floor, next to her.

“We may be at a fancy restaurant, but slaves still eat from the floor.” the man said, “Get on your hands and knees.”

Selina hesitated for a moment, then she recalled her punishment, and she slid down out of the chair onto her hands and legs. Her skirt and shawl, as well as the ribbons binding her, restricted her movements into sinuous twists and turns until she was just before the soup. The man now pulled out the ribbon from between her jaws and pulled out the panty from inside her mouth.

Selina was about to dip her head in when the man stopped her.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, slave?” the man asked, unzipping his pants, and pulling out his member. He grabbed Selina’s lower jaw and pulled her face to his crotch as he stood astride the bowl of soup. She knew what was expected of her, and she slipped her lips around his hot swollen penis. She worked her mouth expertly on his manhood, working her head back and forth as she wrapped her tongue against the blunt tip. She worked until the man moaned and was about to ejaculate. He pushed her head off his manhood, and shot his sperm out from his manhood into the soup below him. He sighed, then zipped himself up, and stood back.

“Now drink your soup, slave, and clean up every drop.”

Selina said nothing, but bent down, and began to drink the soup with her tongue. It had cooled somewhat, allowing her to lap it up like a cat from a feeding bowl. The taste of the spices and tomato was so strong that she did not detect any hint of the sperm mixed into the soup. Soon, she managed to finish the soup.

“Good. Now back onto your seat.” the man ordered, picking up the dish and placing it on the table. He wiped her mouth with the napkin, then placed the satin panties back in the orifice, before placing the ribbon across her jaws again, arranging the hair of the wig once more to hide the fact that she was gagged.

The man rang the bell again, and the waiters now returned. If they thought it was funny Selina did not use her soup spoon, they did not say anything as they cleared the dishes. The main course was next, and the man had ordered beef steak for Selina, cooked rare. They looked almost like raw meat to the clandestinely bound woman, but, of course, she could not protest. The man had ordered fish for himself.

Once the waiters were gone, the man had once more placed the dish on the floor. Selina was once more ordered onto the floor, and the panty gag removed from her mouth. Then, the skirt was stripped from her waist and her thong panties removed. The crotch strap of her chastity belt was unlocked and pulled out, and her dildo taken out.

“You may eat now.” the man said as he unzipped his pants once more.

The man has the stamina of a bull, Selina thought as she raised her naked butt and planted her face down on the stake. She bit into it, and swung the meat in her mouth in an effort to bite a bit off. It tasted bloody in her mouth, but the sauce was actually exquisite. Then, as she chewed on the meat, she felt the man enter her cunt. She moaned and lifted her head up, sauce dripping from the sides of her mouth.

“Eat!” the man ordered as he began to pump her. Selina obeyed, and bit down on her steak again. As he continued to fuck her, she took bite after bite until the steak was all gone. Then, he ejaculated a third time that night. He moaned and sat back in his chair, exhausted but happy.

“My, my, you’re a very good fuck, slut.” the man said, looking down at the kneeling woman before him, “Give me a moment to recover. Go and stand against the railing of the balcony, and bend over to display your pussy.”

Selina did as she was told, climbing up to her feet in difficulty with the black ribbon still binding her upper thighs together. She walked over to the railing, and bent over it. Below her, the black waters of the bay rippled as she looked over. Glancing to either side, she saw that there was no one that would be able to look into the balcony to see the sexual humiliation she was being subject to.

Then a thought struck Selina. Would she dare? The drop seemed almost fatal, and yet, the thought of being subject for the rest of her life to sexual slavery appalled her. She would rather die than be subject to such an existence. If she die, she would rather die from trying to escape, then when she was no longer of use to her slavers.

Selina leaned over, swung her legs over the railings, and allowed herself to drop over the railing, feet first. Behind her, she heard the scrape of the legs of a chair on the floor as the man got up. He was too late as she disappeared over the railing and she plunged towards the water below. The water came up with amazing speed, and her feet pierced through the surface, to be followed by the rest of her body. Her wig was torn off as water enveloped her head. She continued plunging into the wet darkness, until her momentum stopped, and she began to float upwards. She kicked her legs as best as she could. Although they were still hobbled, she managed to get some momentum going, and she drove herself out of the surface.

Bound as she was, Selina could not swim normally, but she leaned her body forward, as if she was snorkeling, and used the limited freedom of her legs to propel her forward, towards the yachts, and away from the shoreline behind her, over which the restaurant had hung. She tried to swim as fast as she could.

Then, Selina heard the sound of a motor behind her. Twisting her head around, she saw that it was a boat, speeding towards her. Some kind soul had probably seen her drop into the water, and was coming to rescue her. As the boat came up to her, a light shone onto her wet head bobbing in the water. Then the boat was next to her, and to her shock, a noose was dropped over her head, and then tightened. The noose was connected to a pole, and she was fished into the boat by strong arms. As she landed like a fish on the inside of the boat, more strong arms grabbed her. A pair of hands tore off her wig and took out the ribbon and the panty gag in her mouth, but these were immediately replaced by a proper ball-gag which propped her mouth wide open. Her wrists were released from the clutch bag, but immediately pulled behind her back and bound together with rope. Her ankles were placed against each other next, and bound with rope as well. Then the boat was turned around, and sped away from the lights. With a sinking heart, she realized that she had been very swiftly recaptured and her attempt at escape had been all too brief.

+++++

The boat had brought Selina back to shore at a secluded spot far away from the bay. The man was already waiting as she was carried onto the wooden pier by the strong arms of her captors. As she stood dripping wet on the wood, the man growled down at her.

“It was fortunate that I have put in place contingencies against such an attempt. I see that I have made a mistake. I should not have reduced your bondage. You’re not as submissive as you seem. I will not make that mistake again.

Selina had been carried by her arms by two sailors to the limousine that was waiting, but instead of the passenger seat, she had been dumped into the boot of the limousine. Another piece of rope was now used to tie her ankles to her wrists. The length was mercilessly short, tucking her bound hands almost directly under her feet, forcing her torso into a painful arch. Then the boot of the car was slammed shut, and the limousine was driven off. Suddenly, as she struggled with her bonds, the dildo and the butt-plug still inserted into her sprung to life, sending powerful vibrations up her lower regions, causing her to scream into her gag.

When the limousine finally stopped, Selina had orgased twice, adding her own juice to the moisture of the water of the bay. She was pulled out of the boot, still hog-tied, and placed upright on her knees, supported by two pairs of strong arms. She saw that she had not been brought back to the warehouse. Instead, she was in garage behind a dilapidated one-storied building surrounded by a forest.

Selina was dragged into the building through an open door. She saw discarded and dusty machinery all over the floor of a large room, and guessed that it was some sort of abandoned factory. The man continued forward, leading her captors and their reluctant cargo deeper into the building, until they came to a spot where there were no machineries. Instead, there were about a dozen round iron covers on the floor. Above them, an ancient crane hung from an railing mounted along an iron beam, with a chain dangling down with a stout snap-hook at one end.

The man made a hand signal, and the strong hands holding Selina released her, dropping her back onto the floor. She glanced up with hatred at the man as he walked over to her ruthlessly hogtied form.

“We have our own way of dealing with recalcitrant, of course,” the man said, “As with the best prisons, we have a system of solitary confinement. But, of course, we have our own unique twist to it.”

As the man spoke, two of his men stepped forward and bent down over an iron cover. They unlocked a huge padlock closing it, and swung it open by its hinges to reveal a dark cavity beneath it. The strong smell of rubber entered her nose. There was a whine above them as a motor was started, and then the crane began to swing over to a spot above the cavity. The hook began to lower towards the cavity until it passed the brim. The men reached in and moved the hook, sliding it until there was soft click. Then one of them pointed his thumb up, at which point, the chain suspending the hook began to retract up.

Selina’s eyes widened as she saw a black bundle being extracted out from the hole in the ground. It was humanoid in form. Indeed, it was feminine in form, as two bulges on its front indicated the sex of the form. Otherwise, there was no distinguishing features on the black rubbery surface of what can only be described as a body bag, albeit one that adhered very tightly to the form of its occupant. The bag had beefy steel D-rings bolted to its shoulders, on either side of the shrouded head of its occupant, and a short chain linked these two rings. The hook had been fitted through the center link of this chain to extract the body until its bottom was clear of the hold.

The crane’s arm was now turned, and the body bag swung around to where the man and Selina were. She looked up and saw the bound form pressing against the latex covering it. She was obviously a very shapely woman, with large breasts and buttocks, but slender waist and limbs. Her arms had been pulled cruelly together behind her back, forcing her body into a forward arch which pressed forward her chest, and pushed back her butt.

The man reached up now over the head of the bound form, and grasped a heavy zipper. As the zipper came down the front of the bag around its occupants head, it parted. The man pulled it down until the zipper was at the throat, then pulled back the body-bag to reveal a head underneath.

Selina saw that the captive had long blonde hair, but it was difficult to tell much beyond that. Her eyes had been covered by a set of large plastic goggles with rubber padding. It had large plastic cups where the lenses should be, with wires emerging from the front of the cups. It reminded Selina more of night vision goggles. And like NVGs, the goggles were kept in place around her head with a thick leather strap over the top of her head, and another strap around the sides and back of her head. Her ears were covered with ear-muffs, from which more wires emerged. Her nostrils had thin air hoses inserted into them, held in place by rubber plugs, while the tubes twisted around her neck to the back of her head. Finally, her mouth was entirely concealed by a thick rubber panel, held in place by rubber straps that were secured round her head to behind her neck. A rubber hose emerged from the front of the panel and disappeared down into the body-bag. Looking down, Selina saw that the hose would emerge beneath the bag, together with the wires. The hose and wires led back to the hole and disappeared into it.

The man reached up and pulled up the goggles from the blonde’s eyes. Selina looked up into a pair of beautiful cobalt blue eyes, but there was something wrong with them. They looked completely lifeless, as if their owner was dead already, and yet, she clearly was not. No, what they lacked was the independent spark of free-will. Selina shuddered involuntarily.

The man pulled the goggles back over the blonde’s eyes, and zipped up the bag again. The bag was now swung back over the opening and lowered into the hole. As it disappeared into the hole, the other men reached in and unhooked the bag, and closed the lid over the poor woman.

Selina looked up at the man, fear in her eyes now. The man smiled with contempt and made a signal. She was grabbed by her arms once more and pulled onto her knees. The rope lashing her wrists to her ankles were cut, and she was allowed to stand on her feet.

“Cut those fancy clothes off her. She doesn’t deserve them.” the man ordered. One of his men stepped forward and opened a folding knife. He cut through the black satin ribbons binding her arms and legs first, before setting to work, attacking the corset and the thong. Soon, their shredded remnants fell to the floor, leaving Selina in only her transparent chastity belt and her slingback high heels. These were soon stripped from her as well, with her dildo and butt-plug being pulled out unceremoniously after she was bent over. Then, totally naked accept for her ball-gag and rope binding her wrists and ankles, she was dragged over to an iron pillar rising high upwards near to where the hatches were. Here, she saw that an old iron framed bed had been turned up to rest on its head. The springs had been removed, leaving only the frame. She was dragged up to the bed. Steel manacles had already been fitted to the corners of the bed. Her right ankle was immediately secured to one corner of the bed-frame, before the rope was cut, and her left ankle pulled across to the corner opposite the first. Then the rope binding her wrists were cut, and her struggling arms wrestled up to the two upper corners, each of her wrists being secured to one of the corner such that her naked body was now spread-eagled defenselessly. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle, tugging at the manacles binding her.

Selina’s slaver now came up to her, looking up at her bound form, her juggling breasts as she writhed and struggled, and her pert buttocks behind her.

“It’ll really be a pity to put you in that hole for years. I really would like to fuck you a lot more, but you’re too much of a firecracker at the moment. At the end of your confinement, you will become a lot more compliable. Believe me.”

Selina opened her eyes wide in horror at the man’s speech. Years! They were going to put her in a dark hole for years! The thought struck her with dread.

“Of course, there’s no guarantee that your mind will survive,” the man said, “You’ll be deprived of any sound, sight, smell, or taste. Your skin will be totally covered, and you will be surrounded by water. Total sensory deprivation.”

Selina screamed her defiance into her ball-gag, but all she managed was to propel some of her drool his way.

“Oh yes, it would have been a lot more enjoyable to break you the usual way,” the man said, smiling, “But at least I will have all the hours of videos I have of you taken over the past few weeks.”

One of the other men pushed a cart into view. Selina’s slaver turned at the sound, and smiled. A pile of latex garment had been placed on it, and he picked up the topmost piece. Selina looked down to see a helmet of black molded rubber. It resembled the latex cowl that she wore when she was captured the first time, but this one had larger eyeholes, and had an opening for the lower part of her face, from her nose down to her chin.

“I had wanted you to put this on when we got back. You see, you could have become Catwoman again … all right, maybe not Catwoman, but perhaps Catwhore. You would have been my little kitty cat slave pet. I had thought that stripping you of your identity as Catwoman, reducing you to the whore Selina again, and then allowing you to take back part by part of your identity as Catwoman, under my permission and control, of course, will make you the perfect sex slave slash thief, to be used as I see fit, to steal my competitors’ secret. But, alas, I see that that is no longer possible. Selina and Catwoman are indistinguishable. To break Selina, it is Catwoman that must be utterly controlled, totally bound, and completely brainwashed.”

The man took the cowl and stepped up to where Selina was bound. Her head was seized by two sets of powerful hands, preventing her from moving her head away as the man slipped the thick rubber cowl over her head through the opening at its bottom, and pulled it down her head. It was a difficult fit, but the man was relentless as he pulled the stiff rubber over her head. As it slipped down her head, her chin emerged from the top of the lower opening on its front and the eyeholes came to rest around her eyes. The neck of the helmet snapped into place around her throat, holding the cowl in place. The visage of Catwoman once more stared down with hatred at the man, struggling with her manacles.

“It is Catwoman who must be reduced to the status of being a sex slave, a total nympho that is dependent on me to fulfill her addiction. This will be a control more powerful, and less debilitating than, a heroin habit.” The man explained as he picked up the second garment.

Catwoman looked down and saw that he was holding a rubber corset, rather liked the one that had been placed on her before, but closed in the rear by a heavy metal zipper, rather than the fasteners. It also had actual boning, which actually looked severe in the way the bones bowed inwards. His men took either end of the corset, and now placed them around her waist. She found that unlike the previous rubber corset, the front of this one rose up all the way to cover her breasts. As it was wrapped around her flank, they crushed her heavy breasts together to form a deep cleavage. She felt the ends mated up behind her, and then she felt the open ends of zip being mated up, and the zipper being pulled up her back. The bones of the corset dug into her waist, clinching it in.

The man turned and picked up a third piece of garment. It was like the chastity belt that had been placed on Catwoman earlier in the evening, but made of heavy duty black rubber. It also had three holes fitted to it, stacked one above the other along the crotch strap. The first hole was actually quite tiny, and she could not fathom its use. The next two, however, were obviously meant to be fitted with a dildo and an anal-plug. The chastity belt was now placed around her waist, and the crotch strap pulled up over her vulva, with the three ends being locked in place behind her back, imprisoning her loins.

Next, the man did something curious. He picked up a hooked needle, with a thick white thread placed through its hole. He stepped up to Catwoman, and pierced the hem of the corset with the needle. Then, to her surprised, he began to sew the hem of the corset and the top of the chastity belt together. He worked around her until the belt was attached to the corset by a series of crude white stitches around her waist.

The man now stepped back to the cart, and picked up two long pieces of rubber. Two of his men took one of the pieces and wrapped it around Catwoman’s stretched right leg. They then pressed the long sides of the pieces together over the outside of her thighs. The man took his needle and thread again, and set to work. Soon, the latex piece was sewn together over her leg, cladding it like a legging, with white stitches down the outside. This was repeated with her left leg with the other piece. Then the man sewed the top of the leggings to the hem of the chastity belt, down the front from her hips down to her crotch, then up between the cheeks of her buttocks, back to her hips again, joining the leggings to her chastity belt.

It occurred to Catwoman then that a thick rubber costume was being sewn to her body as she was bound spread-eagled to the bed frame. The next item was a long piece that was stretched across her chest. Three panels rose from the long piece up. The center panel had a semi-circular scoop in front, while the two end panels had shallower quarter scoops. The hem of this piece was sewn to the top of her corset. Then the center panel was pulled up to the neck of her cowl, and sewn into place. The back of the piece of rubber were now mated up behind her and sewn together, before the top was sewn to the back of the neck of her helmet.

Only Catwoman’s arms were now uncovered. This situation was soon remedied by additional rubber strips being applied around her arms, and sewn in place to form sleeves. Then the man sewed the ends of the sleeves to the top of the rest of the costume around her arm sockets, completing a catsuit around her bound body.

The man now gave another command. Catwoman’s right knee was now raised and forced against the side of the bed frame, and a rope used to bind it in place. Then, the manacle around her right ankle was released. Her right lower leg was now pulled back. Another man now took a boot off the top of the cart and went around her back. Glancing down, she saw that it was a black PVC boot, but it lacked any toes. Instead, it pointed straight down. She realized that it was a ballet boot, which would force her foot into a permanent ballet en pointe posture. She could not resist as the boot was placed around her foot, forcing her to point her toes back as it was being laced up her shin until the top of the boot closed around her knees. When the man behind her released her foot, she found that she could not manipulate it at all, as the top of the boots were fitted with shanks around her ankles, making any movement impossible. The men set to work on her right leg now, and soon, her left foot was similarly booted and forced into a torturous point. As her knees were released and her ankles once again secured, her calve muscles immediately complained at the load imposed on them, but there was nothing she could do.

The men now set to work on Catwoman’s hands. First her right hand was released and her arm pulled back to render any attempt as resistance futile. The men took a fingerless rubber glove, and placed it around her right arm. Her hand was pressed into the bulb at the end of the glove, her fingers being forced into a useless clenched fist by the internal contour of the bulb as the glove was pulled up her arm. Then, the long opening along the glove was sewn shut, and for added security, the top of the glove was also sewn directly to the sleeve of the costume. Her right wrist was then manacled again. When this was done, her left arm was similarly gloved.

Catwoman now looked like some sort of rag door someone had crudely sewn together, with white stitches criss-crossing her shapely body. The glossy black rubber stretched over her every curve, hugging them closely and adding luster to their rounded shape. She made an enticing figure, spread-eagled as she was.

Catwoman’s slaver now reached up with a knife. He cut off the leather strap still holding her rubber ball-gag in her mouth, and pulled the instrument of silence out from under the rubber of her cowl.

“Fuck you!” Catwoman cursed vehemently.

“Curse all you like, Catwoman,” the man said airily, “Soon you will not be able to speak for years.”

One of his men had pushed away the first cart, and he returned with another cart. The man picked up one of the items and showed it to Catwoman. It consisted of a thick rubber panel of the sort that she had seen placed on the other woman. Its inside had a thick rubber penis secured to it. It had a realistic slit on its front, just like a real penis. On the other side of the panel, a long rubber hose emerged and dropped down to the floor. The man took the ends of the rubber straps secured to the sides of the panel, and stepped up to Catwoman with it. One of his men grabbed her jaws and pried it open, allowing the man to slip the rubber penis between her resisting jaws. Then, he pulled the straps behind the back of her neck, and with a click, he locked the ends together behind her. This left the hose dangling down the front of the captive’s body to the floor.

The man now picked up two instruments that were intimately familiar to Catwoman. The dildo was unremarkable, except for its girth and length. After it was lubricated, it was soon installed in Catwoman’s cunt. As it was slid and screwed into place, she threw her head back at the sensation, and moaned. Then, the man picked up the anal plug.

She saw that there was something different. The tip of the cone had been removed. Instead, there was a small recess at the tip, forming a cavity like an egg-cup. In the center of this cavity, there was a large hole. At the bottom of the flanged base of this plug, a long black rubber tube came out and dangled on the floor. The plug had been lubricated too, and it entered her slack sphincter with little difficulty, in spite of its truncated tip. It slid into place, and like the dildo, its base was screwed into the corresponding thread on the inside of the rear hole on the crotch piece of her chastity belt, eliciting gagged moans from Catwoman.

The man now took up a piece of equipment Catwoman had never seen before. It looked almost like a hypodermic needle, except that it did not have a sharp end, and was thicker. It too had a screwed base, but had a thin rubber tube running out from its bottom. The man walked up to her, and bent down.

To Catwoman’s horror, she realized that she had one more lower orifice left that had not been plugged. It was her urethra. The sensation as it was pushed up her narrow tube was almost excruciating, and she could only shake her head in protest, flinging the rubber tube attached to her mouth from side to side.

“Stop that!” the man ordered, slapping her head across her right cheek, knocking Catwoman’s head to one side. Then he stepped back, and picked up a rubber nose clip of the same sort that had been placed on the other unfortunate woman. The two thin hoses had already been connected to the plugs on the clip, and the man now shoved these into Catwoman’s nostrils, plugging them. She was now forced to breathe through the long tubes dangling down from her nose. The tension of the clip itself was like a clothes peg, pressing in her nose to keep the plugs in place.

When this was done, Catwoman was finally released from the bedframe. She fell onto her hands and knees. Although she was now unsecured, there was no way she could fight back. Her hands were encased uselessly in rubber bulbs, while her feet were stringently forced into points, preventing her from rising to her feet. Rubber hoses emerged from every orifices in her body, with the exception of her ears, dangling about her as she crawled futilely, trying to get away from her captors, and the cruel fate awaiting her. She was easily caught, and forced into a kneeling position. Her arms were now pulled back behind her. She felt a long piece of rope being pulled over her neck, and pulled down under her arms, only to be twisted back up around her upper-arms. The men whipped the ends of the rope over and over again over her arms, working their way down from her arm pits down to her elbows, forcing them cruelly together, before working their way down, stopping only when her wrists had been bound together. She could now no longer separate her arms, and her torso had been forced into the cruel arch she had seen in the other woman, her chest pushed forward, and her butt tilted back.

Catwoman was now pushed onto her side. Another rope was applied to her, this time doubled. The looped end was belted around her corseted waist, and the lines pulled down to her crotch. But these lines were not pulled back to form a crotch rope, but instead, separated before being pulled around her hips down and back to behind her buttocks. The lines were then whipped together, again and again, down her long thighs, until her knees were forced together. The men continued to work their way down until her lower legs, like her long thighs, had disappeared under a dense matrix of rope. The men stopped only when her ankles had been tied together.

Catwoman could now only wriggle helplessly at the feet of the men. She had been very thoroughly bound indeed. Her hands and feet had already been rendered useless to her in the bulbs and ballet boots. Now her arms and her legs had been lashed tightly together.

As if this was not enough, the men now picked up an arm sheath and slipped it over her bound arms. The conical rubber garment slipped up her entire arm until the top reached her armpits. Then the shoulder straps attached to its top was thrown over her shoulders, and crossed over her chest, and pulled down under her arms, back to the arm sheath, where they were secured by locks to the sides. The laces on the back of the sheath were then tightened to constrict the sheath around her rope bound arms. A rubber hobble skirt was next, belted around her waist and pulled down her rope-bound legs. The skirt was pulled around her legs, and then laced up, adding its own imposition to her bound legs. Her latex covered butt was left uncovered by the skirt, and the hoses plugged into her nether regions emerged here to spread out on the floor next to the writhing Catwoman.

The men now took one last piece of rubber item, and came up to Catwoman. With a chill, she saw that it was the body-bag, of the same design that had been used to contain the other woman. It looked like a shroud to her as its front was unzipped. One of the men now scooped her up, and placed her helplessly in its confines. The tubes emerging from her head were now pulled down her back, and placed together, before being pulled down to her butt. Here, they joined the tubes emerging from her crotch. These were then coiled around her legs, and pulled out through a rubber seal at the bottom of the bag. Then the bag was zipped up. As the zip was pulled up her bound and hobbled leg, it added its own grip to her lower limbs, as the tough rubber constricted around them. The body bag continued to grip more and more of her body as the zip moved up, and soon her arms were pressed tightly against her back as the zip came up to her neck.

Only Catwoman’s head remained uncovered. She writhed helplessly in her layers of bondage, completely helpless and dreading her fate. A short length of chain was now attached to the D-rings on the shoulders of the body-bag. Then the crane was swung into place above her, and the hook lowered. When she was hooked up, the chain retracted, and she was raised bodily up into an upright position, swinging lightly from her suspension. One of the men now reached into an open hole near her, and pulled out a series of hoses. He then proceeded to mate up the hoses plugged into Catwoman with the corresponding hose, using the markings on the hoses to make sure he connected the right ones up.

“Take a good look at the world, Catwoman. You will not see it for the next few years.” The man said.

Catwoman’s eyes opened wide in terror. She shook her head in protest.

“MMMMMMPHHHH! MMMMMPPHHHH!” Catwoman screamed, but there was no sign of sympathy from any of her captors. One of them now placed the goggles over her eyes, plunging her into darkness. As she struggled, she felt the earmuffs placed on her head, and then, the body-bag was zip shut over her head, encasing it with rubber.

The silence and darkness was awful. Catwoman felt something inside of her snap, and she started to scream and scream in terror. But this was not to be the end of her ordeal. She felt herself being swung aside now, and then slowly, she was lowered. Her sideway swinging was arrested now as she bumped into the walls of the hole she had been lowered into. After a brief pause, she began to feel pressure increasing on her feet, then her lower legs, up towards her torso. She realized the hole is now being flooded with water. When the water reached up over her head, she felt herself floating. Then, the hook was removed from the top of her head, and she slipped deeper into the hole. Finally, with a damning clang, the cover was closed over her watery prison.

At this point, Catwoman screamed and screamed and screamed.

+++++

Catwoman did not know how long she was kept in the total sensory deprivation. It felt like an eternity. She was in her own dark, silent hell. Then, light began to flicker before her eyes. She realized that the goggles strapped to her eyes contained small screens. The light flickered, and then became coherent pictures.

At first, Catwoman could not comprehend what she was seeing. Then she realized that she was looking at a square of latex covered body. The image zoomed back now, and she realized with a start that it was her! She was in her original black latex catsuit, and she was back in the study of the man, bound helplessly. Then, as she walked she saw the crotch of her catsuit being cut open, and her panties cut off. Then, the man raped her. Over her ears, tiny speakers in her ears played back the sounds of her rape, with every gagged moan that had been recorded played back to her in high definition audio. In addition, almost inaudibly, a voice whispered, “You are being fucked by your Master, whom you must obey. You are being fucked by your Master, whom you must obey.”

At this point, the dildo and butt-plug inserted into her came alive, vibrating in pulses. Catwoman felt herself being shaken to the core by the power of the pulses. She writhed in her body-bag, moaning into her gag. She felt her body building powerfully towards an orgasm, then suddenly, she moan and shook as she cummed. Then, the scream went blank again, plunging her once more into darkness.

Catwoman endured the sensory deprivation for another eternity, before she realized that something was trickling into her mouth. A fluid was coming out through the slit in the penis gag in her mouth. Eagerly, she began to suck on the penis, as if she was giving the rubber member a blow job. The harder she worked, the more juice would come out, which she swallowed eagerly. She fed and fed, engorging herself on the fluid which tasted very closely like semen. She felt until her stomach was extended, pushing against the confines of the corset and the body-bag. Then, her goggles and earmuffs came to life again, this time playing a scene from inside her own apartment, when she had been captured the second time. She was forced to watch herself forced to put on her purple costume and then being put into bondage. Once again, the dildo and butt-plug came to life, rocking her nether regions, and forcing her into an orgasm. Then, there was silence and darkness once more.

This was repeated several times. Catwoman would be fed. Then she would be forced to watch an episode from her captivity and sexual slavery, while being compelled into an orgasm. Otherwise, she had only total sensory deprivation to accompany her imprisonment.

Catwoman soon realized that her stomach was becoming bloated and her bladder was full. She suddenly understood why her urethra had been plugged. When she released her bladder, she felt her warm urine drain out of her through the urethral plug, and out through the tube attached to it. When she needed to shit, the butt-plug performed a similar function. Her shit would emerge into her rectum, to be immediately dropped into the cavity at the tip of the plug. There was the sound of vacuum sucking next, and she guessed that the shit was sucked out from inside of her.

It was all very efficient. Catwoman was being fed, and the refuse removed from inside her body, all while she was tightly bound up in her rubber prison. This understanding only added to her despair at the totality of incarceration she had been placed in, where even such basic bodily functions were taken away from her. She was to all intents and purpose, nothing more than an object, part of a machine.

As her imprisonment stretched, such coherent thoughts became more and more rare in Catwoman’s mind. Her grip on reality began to slip as her starving mind, deprived of all other senses, and permitted only the images of her own debasement and ravishment, came to be wrapped around those visuals and sounds. Her orgasms began to dominate her life, such as it was, these being the only intense emotions and sensations permitted to her in her private rubber hell.

Catwoman watched her ordeals, from being marked like a lifestock, to her ordeals in the cage, to her treadmill training, to her gang-rapes by the guards, were all shown to her, to be accompanied invariably by enforced orgasms. With her mind now completely enthralled by these images, she soon craved for them, to see her own sufferings, to see herself being used as a sex slave. To her mind, they were becoming the core of her existence.

With time, Catwoman did not even need the powerful ministrations of the dildo and buttplug. Once the images flickered on, she began to get horny. When the dildo and plug came on, she achieved orgasm quickly. Her mind now looked forward constantly to the next time. She was like an addict, craving her next hit. Yet with each hit, she craved even more desperately for the next one.

All thoughts of the world outside Catwoman’s prison receded from her mind. She had an awareness of her identity as Catwoman still, but now it was being twisted and perverted inside her own mind. Her costume now became a fetishistic symbol of her enslavement. She was no longer the infamous thief. She was a sex slave, and her Catwoman identity was at the core of that slavery. Catwoman was nothing more than a sex toy for her Master. It was only right that she was to be abused and used as he saw fit.

Catwoman no longer cared about how long she had spent in the prison. She was almost unconscious of the fact that she was being hoisted up when her Master finally returned. When her body bag was opened and her goggle ripped off, she almost cried in despair, so integrated had her psyche been to the rubbery prison. Then her eyes fell on the man standing before her, and her eyes lit up with licentious pleasure. It was her Master.

Catwoman had become no more than a sex slave.

+++++


This story will continue in Breaking Batgirl.

breaking batgirl 3

The African athlete was the last one, and she at least tried to put up a show of resistance, but all too futile as she was held firmly by two burly guards, and put through the same humiliating procedure. Then, to punish her insolence, she was led next to Catwoman. A crotch rope was tied around her waist and groin, and she too was suspended from the ceiling, and whipped by the riding crop until she was sobbing.

“Now for this one.” Catwoman’s slaver said, looking at her. Guards lifted her off the hook, and it was fished out from under the lines binding her breasts. She was now led to the middle of the hall. The handcuffs binding her wrists were released and her wrists now pulled forward. Like the other women, her wrists were now crossed with her palms facing forward under the fingerless gloves encasing them, and they were bound together with a broad leather strap. When they were secured, the ropes that had been binding her for so long were now untied, and allowed to drop to the floor around her.

Even without the lines that had been binding her, Catwoman was in no position to resist, with her wrists bound together before her, her fingers trapped inside the gloves, and her feet still imprisoned in the cruel high-heels. Yet she tried. She pulled and bucked at the men holding her, until a cattle prod was applied to her. When that did not stop her from resisting, the prod was applied again and again, eliciting gagged cries of pain until her legs gave way, and she slumped down in the arms of her captors. Then she resisted no more as her wrists were pulled behind her back and hooked into place.

“You really are a wild one.” Catwoman’s slaver said, leering at her, glancing down at her naked breasts, which still had the red imprints of the lines that had bound them. He pulled up on her leash, forcing her to rise unsteadily to her feet.

“By right, you should be stripped completely naked.” her slaver said, coming up to her, “But I want to break you as the infamous Catwoman, not as an ordinary woman. I’ll keep that cowl on you for the time being, but the rest of your costume will have to go.”

Saying that, the man took out a knife with a concave blade. He fed the blade under the fabric that remained between her breasts, and slashed sideways, severely the remnant of the purple lycra. The strap fell forward onto her stomach, barely her chest. Then he turned the blade and cut upwards until he reached her collar bones, parting the costume like curtains to either side of her chest. Pulling on the costume here and there to steady the fabric, he cut side ways around the right side of her neck, slicing through the lycra until he had reached the zipper of the costume, which he severed. He walked around to the other side, and continued cutting the fabric until he had cut clean around her throat, separating the cowl from the rest of the costume.

The man now pull on the fabric under Catwoman’s right armpit, and cut upwards with his blade. The purple lycra parted ways up her right arm towards the elbow. When he reached the hem of the glove cladding her right arm, he pulled down the fabric as he continued to cut until the entire sleeve had been cut through. The purple fabric fell away from her right shoulder and across her back. When the man repeated the process with the left sleeve, the fabric fell back away from her naked torso to gather around her waist.

The man now cut down the right side of Catwoman’s hip, cutting the fabric over the hip down to her thigh. He fished the fabric out of the top of her right boot until he had cut all the way through the legging, and the lycra gathered around her left leg, revealing her naked crotch, still criss-crossed with the red welts from her recent whipping and where the crotch rope had bitten into her soft flesh. When he cut away the left legging as well, Catwoman stood naked in the arms of her captors, with only her cowl still remaining, cladding her head.

Catwoman was then unceremoniously put through the same procedures as the other women. She was obviously a very shapely woman, and the measurements only proved that. She had to be wrestled into a bent over position for her probe. As the cool acrylic rod penetrated her cunt, and then her ass, she could only dip her head in humiliation at being measured in her lower tracts.

“My, you are a deep one,” Catwoman’s slaver mocked as he saw the measurement on the rod, “You should be able to take our largest dildos in your vagina and anus.”

Then, still struggling, Catwoman was dragged to the last station. One of the guards took the disk that had been prepared for her, and stepped forward towards her collar.

“No, I have something else in mind.” Catwoman’s slaver said, “Bring me the hole puncher.”

The command brought a chill to Catwoman’s spine. She turned to see a tray being carried by a guard up to her. As she struggled, a guard held her torso steady while another two knelt down and pulled her long legs apart, so that her crotch was uncovered. Her slaver took a gauze soaked in alcohol, and knelt down between her legs. She felt a cold sting as the alcohol was rubbed against her clitoris hood, then a numbess.

“MMMMMMMMMPH!” Catwoman protested, as she tried to wriggle her hips.

“You better be still, if you don’t want me to accidentally punch a hole in your clitoris.” the man admonished as he picked up the hole-puncher on the tray and bent down again. Catwoman instantly stilled her struggles. There was a sharp snap, and the man stood up and placed the puncher on the tray, and took out a ring. The ring was about two inches in diameter, hinged at one end, and could be opened at the opposite end. He opened it, and bent down. She could feel nothing, but knew that he was now threading the ring through the holes he had punched in her clitoris hood. She heard the ring being snapped shut underneath her. Then the man reached up for the black plastic disk containing the barcode and RFID chip, and attached it to clitoris ring he had newly installed on her. When her legs were released and she was allowed to bring them together, she felt the disk dangle between her legs as she was led to the row of captive women.

With the Amazon still being punished, Catwoman was now head of the line. A guard came up to her and attached a double-ended leash to her collar. One end was hooked to the collar while the other was pulled to the captive next to her. The guard worked his way down the line until all the women were linked together. Then, picking up the original leash still attached to Catwoman’s collar, he pulled her towards the door near where she stood. She reluctantly followed him, feeling the drag on the other leash as the women behind her began to turn and walk out.

Catwoman saw that the door led to a large warehouse space. It had bare concrete floor, and walls and ceilings made from zinc sheets. Here, she was shocked again, as her eyes laid on rows of cages, constructed out of chicken wire and wooden frames. These were placed in rows on the floor. Many of them were occupied by women, bound as she and her fellow captives were, with their arms on either side of their heads. They were all severely ball-gagged. The size of the cages were such that they could not stand up, so they had to kneel or sit on the floor, looking in despair out at the new arrivals.

Catwoman was led towards a cage, placed aside from the others. It was placed at a spot where all the other captives in their cages could see. Not only that, as she was led up to the cage, she saw that cameras had been mounted on tripods around the cages, peering in. Several old television sets had also been placed next to the cages, showing what the cameras were capturing.

The door of the cage – a wooden frame hinged on the frame of the cage, with chicken wire stapled over it – was open. The top of the cage reached her hips. She was unhooked from the others, and the guards pushed her towards the open door. She thought of resisting yet again, but the sharp bite of the cattle prod was again used to dissuade her. She knelt down on the concrete floor and crawled on her chins into the cage, her breasts swinging beneath her as she crawled. She found that the floor of the cage was made from rough wooden planks. The door was swung shut behind her, and she heard a lock snap into place.

Catwoman looked around her new prison. There was nothing much to see. It was just tall enough for her to sit up straight on her knees, and about six feet long, and four feet across. Towards the other end of the cage, she saw that the chicken wire didn’t quite come down all the way to the floor, but left a low gap, through which a large plastic tray had been slid in. This tray was covered with kitty litter. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out that this was her toilet.

Worse, it was clear that every moment of Catwoman’s captivity in the cage would be caught on camera. As she peered out of the chicken wire walls of her cages, on both sides, she could see herself in the cage, being displayed on the TV sets next to the cages.

Catwoman almost could not recognize herself. She saw a pitiful visage on displays, her body mostly naked except for the boots, gloves and cowl. Even her cowl now, once a proud symbol of her identity as the fiercely independent and unconquerable Catwoman, now only served to mark her out as a unique catch, a special conquest, for her slaver. For the other women, at least, they would soon sink into the anonymity of being another sex slave. For her, as long as she wore her cowl, she would be have a distinctive identity, that of being a powerful feline female being reduced to nothing more than a caged pussy. 

The way Catwoman saw herself being put on display filled her with even more humiliation. Her breasts were thrust wantonly forward, given the way she was bound, with her arms raised. The red welts on them, as well as the red marks of the ropes that had bound her body so tightly over the past days, reminded her of her abused status as a hapless captive of the man, to be tormented whenever he saw fit.

Catwoman turned around to witness the other women captives being led to their respective cages and locked up. Finally, the Amazon was led into the warehouse. She was led to a cage at the end of the row, near to where Catwoman was imprisoned. Instead of being placed in the cage, she was bent over it, with her legs spread wide open and her ankles tied to the frame of the cage. Her collar was then tied to the far end of the top of the cage, leaving her in the bent over position.

“Punishment for disobedience.” Catwoman’s slaver said. He was standing next to her, obviously enjoying the spectacle. He looked through the chicken wire at her bound form, a look of triumph at her captivity and humiliation. Then, as Catwoman watched helplessly, the guards began to line up behind the Amazon woman, who was weeping audibly now, waiting to be raped.

+++++

For the next few days, Catwoman, like the other captives, were kept in her cage. There was nothing for her to do, except to peer out at her fellow captives, and witness the various atrocities inflicted upon them. The African woman was horribly used by the guards, being kept in her bent over position for almost a day before she was finally released and placed in the cage that she had been raped repeatedly on.

The captives, were fed from feeding bowls slid underneath the door of their cages. Food for them consisted of some unknown stew that was foul-smelling, but at least satiated the hunger. They had to drink from water bowls as well, bending forward with their butts raised into the air as they dipped their jaws into the bowls to lap up the water with their tongues. They could not feed or drink with the ball-gags in their mouths, of course, so they had to wait for the guards to reach in through the gap over the door to pull the rubber balls out of their mouths. The balls were then allowed to dangle from their straps around their necks, like embarrassing necklaces around their throats.

However, Catwoman was not to enjoy the privileged treatment of simple slavery such as those accorded to the other women. Apparently, her slaver had something special reserved for her.

Catwoman had not been fed or watered since her second capture in her own home. It must have been almost two days now. Given the ordeal that she had endured, she was now both hungry and thirsty. Yet, even as the other captives were fed, she was very conspicuously not given any food or water, not even in the degrading way the others were given. She could only watch helplessly as her own hunger and thirst were not satiated.

Then, hours later, her slaver had finally made an appearance, proffering a bowl of milk.

“Would you like some milk, slave?” the man had asked, putting especial emphasis on the last word. Catwoman had recoiled at this word, and defiance flared in her heart. She had looked out with hatred and contempt.

“I guess not.” the man had said, completely unmoved by the evil stare he received from the purple cowled figure in the cage. He turned the bowl and emptied the milk onto the head of the woman. Almost reflexively, she started to move her lips around the ball-gag in her mouth, trying to suck in the milk as it flowed past her mouth. The man laughed at this, and realizing what a humiliating spectacle she was making of herself, Catwoman stopped and hung her head in shame. Glancing aside at her own images in the TV sets around her, she saw only a desperate and forlorn figure staring back at her.

The man had waited until the end of the day to return. By then, Catwoman had been further weakened by hunger and thirst. She was laying on her side by then, and as he approached, she weakly lifted up her torso to look at him.

“Milk, slave?” the slaver asked. Catwoman had stared at him. Part of her wanted to resist, but her hunger and thirst was almost overwhelming at this point. Almost subconsciously, she had nodded in defeat, then hung her head as she understood that.

The man knelt down and unlocked the cage. He reached in and grabbed Catwoman’s leash, and pulled hard. She choked and crawled weakly with her legs to relieve the pressure around her throat, until she was part way out of the cage. The man grabbed the strap holding the rubber ball in her mouth and pulled the ball out of her dry mouth.

“Slaves can only feed after they’ve worked.” the man said, “This will apply to you too.”

As the man spoke, still holding onto Catwoman’s leash, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and lowered his trousers, and then his briefs. His penis was already erecting, pointing towards the captive’s face.

“You will only eat after you’re serviced your Master with your mouth.” the man had said.

Catwoman had once again recoiled at this. To be make a helpless fuck toy, bound and gagged such that she could not resist being raped was one thing. To be forced to serve the man, give him a blow job ‘willingly’ was another.

“N…never!” Catwoman had replied hoarsely but reluctantly. The man had smiled. He had known that time was on his side. He had then replaced the ball-gag in Catwoman’s mouth, and shoved her back into her cage, shutting the door. Then, cruelly, he had left the bowl of milk just outside the door, near enough for her to see and smell, but just out of reach.

Finally, on the third time, Catwoman’s resistance had completely crumbled. Her bodily needs had been too great by this. The man had returned, once again with a bowl of milk, and once again, he had dragged her by her leash out of her crude cage. She could not even summon the strength to fix him with a stare of hatred. Her eyes, peering out through the eyeholes of her purple Catwoman cowl, were unfocused, but she had understood what was demanded of her. She had almost automatically assumed a kneeling position, sitting on her heels, with her arms bound in the upraised position. The man hooked a finger under the strap of her ball-gag and pulled it out of her mouth. The man pulled down his jeans and she had reached forward to encompass the growing fleshy member in her mouth. The man had grabbed her by her jaws, holding her cheeks in a vice-like grip, forcing her mouth into a pout, as he forced his penis into her mouth. This both formed her mouth into a good shape to give him a blow-job and prevented her from making any foolish move to bite his manhood off.

Catwoman had worked her head back and forth over the man’s penis. She had done this before in her days as a prostitute, and she called on her old skills to give the man a good fellatio. Then, as the man ejaculated into her mouth, she had reflexively swallowed the man’s juice. Finally, the man placed the bowl on the floor, and she was allowed to lower herself to feed from the bowl.

The entire episode was, of course, captured on camera. The man took great pleasure later in playing back Catwoman’s humiliation for her on the TV sets. She could not avoid seeing herself sucking the man’s cock, her purple-cowled head bobbing back and forth on the fleshy shaft, as the TV sets on both sides of her cage showed it. She could only watch helplessly as she saw what a spectacle her bound form made.

After forcing her submission that time, this became part of the routine. Unlike the other women, Catwoman was required to perform some service every time she was fed. And she had to do it in public, witnessed by her fellow captives and the cameras surrounding her cage.

Catwoman must either give whoever was feeding her a blow-job, or, if so required, she would have to turn herself around, lift her buttock high into the air, place her shoulders onto the ground with her face down such that her cunt was available for fucking. Then, she must cooperate in her own rape by working her hips back and forth, giving whoever was feeding her a good fuck. Only then, was she allowed to feed.

Other than milk, her slaver had taken especial pleasure in feeding her cat food rather than human food. The first time he did it, he had opened up the cans of cat food right in front of her, in view of the other captives, and dumping the greasy contents into the feeding bowl.

After a while, like the other women, Catwoman had to defecate and urinate.  There was no privacy as they do their business. But for Catwoman, there was the added humiliation of having her own act caught on camera. She was reluctant at first to do it so openly. But, eventually, she could no longer hold the urine and shit inside of her. She crawled to the tray of kitty litter and squat over it. Even as her cheeks burnt with humiliation, she urinated and shitted onto the dry litter. To make matters worse, when the guards came round to clear the kitty litter, they had ordered her to raise her buttocks up into the air, and they had sprayed a powerful jet of cold water into the cage, onto her cunt, blasting any debris off. She had no choice but to cooperate for otherwise, she would not be cleaned at all.

After almost a week of this treatment in the cage, Catwoman had been reduced from a captive resisting her enslavement to one who was resigned to a reluctant cooperation in her own captivity. Her existence was reduced to a humdrum one, consisting of eating, sleeping, relieving herself, and getting fucked for food.

Catwoman began to lose count of the number of days she had been captured and kept in captivity. She had tried initially to count off, but by the fifth day, her mind was becoming too exhausted by a combination of tedium, poor diet, and mental abuse, to perform even this simple task of noting the passage of time. It was all she could do to keep shreds of clear thought together in her mind. In the increasingly rare moments when she could string two thoughts together, she did wonder if the food they were feeding her was somehow drugged, which would explain her difficulties in focusing, and - to her surprise and embarrassment - an increased horniness.

Indeed, Catwoman found that she was starting to juice every time her captors started to bring food around. She could not understand this. She was horrified in fact by how her body was responding each time her slaver, or one of his minions, came around with milk or cat food. Her nipples and clitoris began to engorge even without the men pawing her, which they did anyway for their own amusement. In fact, she found herself becoming an increasingly willing participant in her own debasement, fucking the men's cocks with almost nymphomaniac enthusiasm during her feeding session.

Catwoman was beginning to accumulate quite a bit of grime from her captivity, of course, so she needed a good wash now and then. This was done in as humiliating a manner as possible. The first time she was washed, her slaver had come and opened the cage. Then, with a hook mounted on the tip of a wooden pole, he had reached in and caught her clitoris ring. Then, without mercy, he had withdrawn the pole out of the cage, causing her much distress in her nether region. She had to crawl outwards on her knees, an awkward proposition with her arms raised high above her head, which caused her breasts to swing from side to side at the same time. Every moment of this mortifying scene was captured for her viewing later on the cameras.

"Stand up, slave!" the man had commanded, and Catwoman had no choice to obey when he pulled the pole upwards, manipulating her from the other end of the six foot pole. She rose unsteadily onto her feet, her prolonged stay in the cage having rendered her alien to standing on the killer heels.

Backing away, the man had led Catwoman, step by painful step, stumbling and tottering, pass the other caged women towards the other end of the warehouse of torment. Here, a crude washing arrangement had been set up. A short pipe had been planted crudely in the cement of the floor, with a tap fitted to its tip. In turn, a long coil of rubber hose, with a spray nozzle had been fitted to it. A long, thin and rusty chain had been secured around the base of the pipe, with a snap-hook shackled to the other end. As her slaver led her to the pipe, he picked up the snap-hook, and secured it to the ring fitted to her clitoris hood, before releasing the hook of his pole from her clit ring. Then he picked up the spray nozzle from the floor, and still standing a distance from her.

The cold and powerful jet of water hit Catwoman like a punch. She squirmed and screamed into her gag involuntarily as the water was played up and down her stained body. He concentrated especially on her breasts and crotch, taking pleasure in assaulting it with the power stream of water. She tried to back away from the assault. She could do so for a few feet, twisting her body and tottering back to defend her vulnerable regions from the water. But as she did so, the chain she was secured to began to play out and straighten. Then, it rose off the floor and brought her up short with a tug of her clitoris ring. This caused her to scream into her gag again, and stop. At this point, she had no defense against the jet of water, and could only turn this way and that to give some parts of her body at least some moments of respite.

Catwoman's torn purple lycra cowl had become completely soaked against her head, deepening in colour as it became soggy wet. Water flowed down her body and entered the tall tops of her boots, flooding the insides. As she stumbled around, water kept being pumped out of the top of the boots as her long legs moved within them.

"That should do." her slaver had said, "Now to get you dry."

Using the hooked pole, the slaver gained control of Catwoman's clitoris ring again. Then he reached forward and unhooked the chain from the ring. Having done that, he led her by the pole again towards the nearest wall. Here, an iron bar had been suspended by its middle by chain from a hoist in the ceiling. The bar had been lowered almost to the floor, suspending just a few inches from the floor, resting on the pair of manacles fitted to its two ends.

"Sit!" Catwoman's slaver had ordered, pointing to the bar. She did not need to be told more. She sat down on her wet rump and spread her legs, placing one ankle next to each of the manacle. As she did so, water flowed out of her boots onto the cement floor. Her slaver walked around her, still holding the pole. He gave it a light tug, which caused her to wince in pain.

"Move your ankles closer!" the slaver roared. Catwoman moved hastily to obey. Then, within a few moments, he had secured her ankles with the steel bands, ratcheting them shut with their internal locks. He then stepped back and unhooked his pole before he reached for a set of controls mounted on the wall. He pressed a button, and the hoist high above her began to whine. The chain suspending the bar began to retract, raising the bar up into the air.

Catwoman's rump had been first raised into the air, before she was flipped onto her back. Then as the chain continued to retract, her back was lifted clear off. Finally, she was lifted completely off the ground. The man stopped the hoist only when her head was lifted several feet off the ground. When he stepped up to her, she found herself looking directly at his crotch. Water continued to flow out of her boots, trickling down her body, past her heavy breasts, which now hung inverted as well from her chests, exposing their undersides, which, up to now, remained relatively unmarked by abuse.

Catwoman had been left hanging by her ankles, with her legs spread wide open by the bar for a while, but her slaver did not leave her alone for long. When he returned, he was holding a familiar object that sent a chill down his slave's spine. It was a cat-o-nine-tails. It was made out of braided leather, with its nine tentacles ending in sharp leather points. He had flicked it experimentally in the air for effect as he approached the feline burglar.

Then Catwoman's slaver had struck. He swung the braided leather tails heavily onto her crotch. Instantly, she bucked, twisting her torso around from the pain. She had screamed into her gag.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Catwoman's slaver, of course, did not let this deter him at all. Far from it. It only encouraged his lustful sadism as he had next aimed for her inverted breasts. He had struck with unrelenting force on her right breast.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPHHHHHHHHHH!" Catwoman screamed into her ball-gag again, her body arching back such that she looked onto the floor as she recoiled from the pain. Her spittle, drooling out of the corners of her mouth from her ball-gagged mouth, which had been flowing down her cheeks, flew into the air, splattering onto the floor.

Catwoman's slaver had waited until she returned to a vertical position, before delivering his next blow, punishing her left breast this time, aiming again for the pristine area unmarked by previous punishments. Again, Catwoman screamed and bucked from the pain of the blow.

Catwoman's slaver had stood up and walked around her. She had felt utterly helpless as she awaited the next blow. This one landed on her right buttock, causing her to arch her body forward this time. As she recoiled back to vertical, her wet breasts bounced against her body, juggling like jello before coming to a stop.

Catwoman's slaver had worked her over that time, alternating his attention on her crotch, her breasts and her buttocks until she was once again covered with fresh red welts. When he was exhausted, he had simply draped the instrument of her torment over her vulva, inserting its handle through her clitoris ring to prevent it from slipping off, before leaving her to dry out.

Catwoman had been released from her suspension only after several hours, by which time she was dry, with the exception of the deepest reaches of her boots. She was too weak to resist as the guards marched her back to her cage, once again using the hooked pole to control her through her clitoris ring. Once back in the cage, she had been forced to give one of the guards a blow-job while she was fucked in her cunt by another, before she was fed cat food once more, and then prodded back into her cage. As the cage door was locked behind her, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Catwoman's washing was now added to the regular ordeals she had to endure in her captivity. She would be washed daily, ostensibly to remove all the stench and dirt from her feeding and shitting, as well as the use of her mouth and cunt. But, it was obvious that these were also occasions for her to be punished by her slaver in full view of the other slaves and the guards, who would gather to watch the spectacle, adding to her humiliation at being reduced from a haughty cat burglar to nothing more than sexual entertainment for licentious men around her.

Aside from suspending Catwoman upside down, her slaver would sometimes alternate by suspending her from her elbows, so that she hung vertically, which allowed him to balance his whipping to the upper surfaces of her body, particularly her breasts, so that the gourds were filled evenly with red welts from her punishment. This was repeated on her buttocks, as well as her crotch and inner thighs. Each night, she could only fall into an exhausted sleep, weeping tears of futile anger and utter shame at her slavery.

+++++

"Get up, slave!"

Catwoman awoke with a start. She opened her eyes to look up from her fetal position on the floor of the cage at the owner of the voice. It was her slaver. He was holding the usual bowl of milk.

"Get up you lazy slut!" her slaver scolded. Catwoman quickly scrambled onto her knees. She did not want to anger the man. Helplessly bound and gagged as she was, she knew that she had no choice but to obey every command promptly. She knew what was expected of her, and when the cage door opened, she waddled out on her knees up to where the bowl had been placed. Then she looked up at him.

"Cunt." The man said curtly.

Catwoman understood, and bent down until her shoulders torched the floor. She spread her long legs behind her, putting her vulva on full display to the man, who was already pulling down his pants.

Catwoman was given a good fuck before the man pulled up his pants again. He reached forward and took the rubber ball out of her mouth, allowing her to feed hungrily from the bowl. Her ass waved in the air, while her breasts swung wildly beneath her as she attacked the bowl with gusto. When she was done, she raised herself back to a seated position on her knees, licking her milk stained lips with her tongue, which did not prevent milk from trickling down the sides of her jaws and neck, down her chest to her breasts. The man replaced her ball-gag at this point, imposing silence on her once more.

"Get up on your feet." the man ordered now. Catwoman did as she was told, getting unsteadily onto her feet. The man took up the hooked pole once more and fished the ring between her legs. Then he led her away from her cage.

To Catwoman's surprise, he did not lead her to the usual area where she was washed. Instead, he turned and led her by her clitoris hood out of the warehouse through a door to an adjoining room.

Catwoman had never been brought to this room before, and she looked at it with some curiosity. The design of the room reminded her of a garage. A closed garage door dominated one end of the room, but looked as if it had not been used for some time. In the centre of the room was a large pit, where car mechanics could crawl down to look at the undercarriages of cars. But instead of the jacks normally used to lift up cars, she saw two sets of long rubber treadmills had been set up, running across the pit. There was no usual handles or controls found on gym treadmills. These only had the rubber treads, supported on rollers arranged one next to the other. The rollers were secured, in turn to iron frames running on either side of the treads.

Catwoman was now led up to the nearer treadmill.

"Get on, slave." the man ordered. Catwoman had no choice but to obey as the man began to pull at the pole, adding tension to her clitoris ring. She hesitated for a brief moment, before walking onto the tread. The rubber was surprisingly firm under her boots. She guessed that in addition to the rubber, there must have been tracks of some sort underneath to add rigidity to the surface. She walked awkwardly on her super high heels to the centre of the treads. Here, to her concern, she saw that a bundle of grey wires with grey plastic pads at their ends were suspended from the ceiling above her. Looking up, she saw that they disappeared into a hole in the ceiling.

Catwoman's slaver now unhooked his pole before walking to the front of the treadmill. He picked up a brass snap-hook attached to the end of a chain there, and came up to his captive, where he attached the hook to her clitoris ring. Then he picked up a roll of duct tape that had been left conveniently on the floor next to the treadmill at this point.

The purpose of the tape was soon clear. Catwoman's slaver tore off a short length of the tape. He stood up and grabbed one of the wires, and picked up the pad at its end. He examined it for a moment, then placed the pad on her right nipple, covering it neatly. He then pasted the length of tape he had torn out across the pad and the skin of her breast next to it to hold it in place. The man tore off another piece of tape, and repeated the process with her left nipple.

The man tore off a third piece, and picked up yet another pad. This time, he moved around her to her rear, and pasted the pad against the rear of her pert right rump. He then came forward, grabbed another pad, and applied this one to her left rump.

The man was not done yet. He knelt down, and took the remaining pad. This one, he placed between her legs, just behind her clitoris ring, to cover her clitoris and the front tip of her vagina lips. He used a long strip to hold this one in place, pasting across from her clitoris hood, back to her anus.

The man now stood up and looked at his handiwork. Catwoman, standing rigidly erect on the treadmill, was connected up like some sort of experimental subject. Her eyes looked concerned at this arrangement, which prompted a small smile to appear on his lips.

"You must be wondering what all this is for," the man said, "All that feeding and sleeping is going to make you fat, so you will need to be exercised regularly to make sure that your lovely figure is maintained."

As the man spoke, all Catwoman could do was to stare ahead. A large mirror had been set up against the wall there, and she could see herself standing on the treadmill through the mirror. She thought she looked pathetic, with red welts all over her breasts, and with her purple cowl looking rugged and worn on her head.

"You, of course, can guess the consequences of falling behind the speed of the treadmill." the man said, pointing down at the chain connecting Catwoman's clitoris ring to the front of the treadmill, "But the purpose of these pads will be revealed only after your exercise session starts."

The man now walked to the front of the room, with Catwoman following him with her eyes. She knew that he would not be merciful, and it was with some apprehension as she watch him walk up to a set of controls mounted on a corner of the room. He threw a large electric switch with a flourish, and soon, the rubber treadmill began to move underneath her.

The speed was slow enough initially, such that Catwoman did not have much trouble keeping up with it, taking one difficult step after another in her impractical footwear. The six-inch high heels and her tip-toe position soon imposed great strain on her calf muscles, however, and they soon began to ache. Still, she did not dare to fall behind, as the snap-hook secured to her clitoris ring began to drag on it. She continued to take step after step.

Looking ahead, Catwoman could see that the heels were imposing a particular gait on her. Her hips were swaying from side to side, in an exaggerated slut walk. She realized that this must have been part of the intent of the man, forcing her to walk in this way, to add to her humiliation, but there was nothing she could do.

"Keep up!" Catwoman's slaver shouted.

Then, before Catwoman knew what happened, she felt a sharp bite on her right rump, almost as if a whip had hit her. She looked around, confused, but the man was still standing next to the controls. Then, she felt herself whipped on the left rump again, and gave an involuntary cry.

"MMMMPH!" Catwoman complained into her gag. Then, she felt a bite on her right nipple, and realization dawned on her. She was being 'whipped' by electricity through the pads attached to her body. The next bite was on her left nipple. The next one, she knew would be on her clitoris.

When it came, it seemed to be much worse than the other four. Perhaps that region was simply more sensitive. However, it felt as bad as if she had actually been whipped there, an experience the man had imposed on her so many times since her capture. Catwoman could only throw her head back and let out yet another gagged scream.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMPHHHHHHHHH!"

Catwoman hurried to speed up her steps. But the man had increased the speed, forcing her to speed up even more. Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that her hips were swaying in a more and more exaggerated fashion. Her breasts were now bouncing lightly before her chest. Beads of perspiration began to appear on her body.

"Faster!" the man ordered, cranking up the treadmill up a notch.

Catwoman groaned inwardly as she felt the rubber tracks beneath her moved faster. She fell momentarily behind, and immediately, she was shocked in her nipples, bums and cunt. She let out another gagged scream, and increased her steps, trying to catch up. She slipped back again, and was once more punished in her sensitive regions.

Catwoman had no choice but to break out into a jog. It was almost impossible in the high-heels imposed on her. She was almost stomping her booted feet forward. Her breasts juggled violently before her as perspiration was not pouring out of her body, trickling down her body, covering her breasts and buttocks enticingly with glistening beads. Her buttocks swayed from side to side as her wide hips rocked with each of her movement. Her calf muscles were aflamed now, and she was beginning to tire out. Her captivity had taken a toll on her previously phenomenal stamina.

The inevitable happened. Catwoman lost her balance, and with a gagged scream of despair, she fell forward onto the mill. She thought for sure that the clitoris ring would now tear through her clitoris hood, but the front of the chain gave way instead as she landed on her front, as the pads were ripped from her body. Nonetheless, the hook imparted a vicious tug on her clit ring as a final torment as the treadmill came to a sudden halt with Catwoman slumped, exhausted, at the end, having been transported there by the slowing rubber tracks.

"Lazy whore!" the man swore at her, but quietly, he was smiling. She had endured far longer than any woman he had placed on the treadmill. This even after a week of mistreatment. He knew that he had captured a very good specimen indeed. He could not wait until he finally broke her and made her his slave. In the meantime, he knew that he was going to enjoy the process.

Catwoman could not retort, but could only glance up tiredly at her slaver as he came around to her. She just felt so drained of energy, and her feet were killing her.

"You will be punished for your laziness." the man said solemnly. He picked up a pile of coiled rope and came over to where Catwoman lay. He dropped the ropes next to her sinuous supine form, with her buttocks rising proudly up from the valley of her svelte back and hips. He picked up one of the ropes and uncoiled it, before doubling it. He knelt down and folded up Catwoman's long left leg until her heel was pressed against her upper thigh. He then lashed the rope around her ankle and thigh, pressing them tightly together, before cross-lashing the rope around the first horizontal lines and tying a knot to secure the rope in place. This left her left leg tied up in the folded position. He took another rope and repeated this with her right leg.

The man now pulled Catwoman, unresisting in her stupor, up onto her knees. He took one of the rope, and used it to lash her left wrist down to her left upper arm. This secured her arm in a folded position in the same way her legs were already bound. He took the fourth coil of rope and did the same with her right arm. All four of her limbs were now bound in a folded position.

Once Catwoman's arms were secured in this way, the man bent down and unhooked her bound wrists from her collar, then unbuckled the strap that had bound them together. For the first time in a while, Catwoman could lower her arms forward, although, of course, she could not straighten them, given the way she was bound.

The man now took a fifth rope and hitched it to the D-ring on Catwoman's collar. He pulled on it, and forced her to drop her body forward again until she came to rest on her elbows. Then, pulling again, she was forced to mount her knee-caps such that she was standing on her elbows and knees, her body arched forward, her butt pointing upwards, with her breasts swaying freely beneath her.

The man gave Catwoman's rope leash another tug, and she was forced to follow him as he walked back into the warehouse, crawling on her elbows and knees. It was a difficult task, particularly for her already exhausted body. Soon, her elbows and knees were in pain, but she whimpered into her ball-gag. The man ignored her, and continued to lead her through the warehouse, past the other women and the guards, before turning and walking through another door.

Catwoman could only glance up to see what was in the room that she had been led into. She found herself in a small cafeteria, where the guards ate. There were several long tables, with benches on either sides of the tables, for them to sit. There were several guards there, seated around, taking their own breakfast. They very quickly noticed the naked Catwoman being led amongst their midst, her buttock swaying behind her, her breasts bouncing from her awkward crawl on the floor.

The man led Catwoman to the centre of the room, and then dropped the leash rope on the floor.

"This is your punishment, slave." the man sentenced, "You will amuse my men here, to be used as they see fit."

Glancing up, Catwoman saw the predatory looks in the faces of the men, and she could only hang her head back in shame. There was nothing she could do as the men came up to her, flipped her flat onto her back, and began to unbuckle their pants. Soon, the first man entered her defenseless cunt.

"MMMMMMMMMPPHHHHHH!" was all Catwoman could say to protest.

+++++

Catwoman had been raped repeatedly for hours, as guard after guard took her. After those in the cafeteria when she first went in tire out, new ones coming off duty took their turn and used her. They made use of her not only in her cunt, but also by squeezing her big breasts together to knead their own penis, or by forcing her to give them a blowjob, even as she was being fucked in the cunt. By the time the man returned, she was covered with dried semen and cum. She was almost happy to see him.

"So, will you be an obedient slave from now on?" the man asked mockingly as he looked down at Catwoman, pinned to the floor by two guards. She nodded enthusiastically in her desperation.

"Good. Get on all fours!" the man ordered as the guards released her arms. Catwoman twisted her body around as quickly as she could until she was once more standing on her elbows and knees. The man then stooped to pick up the rope leash. He gave it firm tug, and led her back into the warehouse again. She was led up to where the tap was. He connected up the hooked chain to her clitoris ring once more, and used the water spray to clean the dried juices off of her. She had no choice but to stand on her elbows and knees to allow the man to play the jet all over her body, from her swinging breasts to her exposed cunt behind her. When she was clean, he led her straight back to her cage without bothering to hang her out to dry. He did not untie her either, but led her crawling back to her cage. After crawling into the cage and circling it a bit, she settled down as best as she could in her new bound position, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning, her training session was repeated. Catwoman was once more led out of her cage into the garage. Her legs were untied so that she could unfold them, but the man left her arms bound in their folded position. As she mounted the treadmill, she looked at herself, with her bound arms now allowed to be lowered against her sides, pressing her heavy breasts together before her. Her elbows and knees were still blackened from the dirt on the floor that she had to crawl around on.

Once more, the man connected Catwoman up to the hooked chain and the electric pads, except that there was more this morning. Aside from the pads taped to her nipples, the apex of her buttocks, and her clitoris, the man pasted two more to each breasts, on the top and bottom. The buttocks also earned more pads, with two more attached to each rounded muscle, on top and below of the first. Then, more pads were pasted to the inside and outside of her thighs.

Catwoman did slightly better on that second day. She managed to keep up with even the higher speed, which allowed her to jog awkwardly on her high heels. Of course, she was encouraged on her endeavors by the sharp bites of electricity tormenting her all over her breasts, her buttocks, her clitoris and her thighs. She felt as if she was being whipped all over her body. All she could do was grunt and bear it.

As on the day before, Catwoman's body was soon soaked with her own perspiration. She lasted a little longer, but her body would inevitably tire out. Again, she fell ignominiously flat onto her stomach.

Catwoman's slaver came over to her, and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"What am I to do with you, you lazy slut." the man asked rhetorically. Catwoman could only sob as her legs were once again frog-tied, and she was led into the cafeteria to be used by the guards. Then, she was washed, fed and watered, and returned to the cage again.

This training regime lasted for the next few days. As time passed, Catwoman became better and better at walking and running on the ridiculous high-heels imposed on her, until she could actually balance quite well and move at quite a good speed in the boots.

One day, when the man came to fetch Catwoman again, he added a new wrinkle to her training. He led her to a corner of the warehouse where a set of long black rubber objects hung by hooks along the wall. As she was led close to them, she realized that they were dildos and anal plugs, all arranged by their sizes, from the shortest and thinnest to really engorged ones that had no realistic correspondence to actual human male anatomy. She realized what the man was going to do, and she cringed inwardly. He must have sensed her reluctance, for he gave her rope leash a firm tug to force her to crawl faster forward.

The man stepped up to the two rows of rubber objects. He looked at the top row first, which were the rubber dildos, sleek and long, glistening from repeated use. They were held in place in a row by circular steel brackets supporting their flanged bases. He selected one near the end, lifting it out of its bracket, hefting it to sense its weight. He turned to look down at Catwoman.

"This one?" The man asked.

Catwoman's eyes opened wide. It looked too large for any woman to handle. She shook her head vigorously, and shuddered to think how wide it would stretch her insides.

"Ah." the man pondered, returning the dildo to its hook, "Too small. Maybe this one."

"MMMMMMMPPHHHH!" Catwoman complained in alarm as he took the one that was one step up in size from the one he had held earlier. He smiled evily down at her as he took the dildo and picked up a squeeze tube of lubricant from a rack mounted on the wall next to the dildos. He popped the tube open and squeezed a generous amount of the transparent goo onto the rubber surface of the dildo. Replacing the tube in the rack,  he rubbed the goo all over the rubber surface of the dildo. He walked around Catwoman on her elbows and knees. She shook her purple cowled head, pleading silently with him not to do it, but he ignored her. He squatted down behind her upraised butt, and aimed the blunt tip of the dildo at her vagina lips.

Catwoman felt the slippery tip of the dildo touch her vagina entrance, and shuddered involuntarily. Then, she moaned into her gag as the blunt tip entered her tunnel. It began to stretch the inner wall, causing her to throw back her head in despair at the sensation. As the monster continued to advance into her, she dropped her head back onto her chin and shook it, in a futile attempt to divert herself from the relentless advance of the monster.

"MMMMMMPH! MMMMMPH!" Catwoman pleaded. The man ignored her, and continued to push the dildo in.

"Hold your butt steady, slut!" The man ordered as Catwoman shook her hips. He slapped her right buttock savagely, causing her to buck.

"If you don't cooperate, I'll use a bigger one." the man threatened. Catwoman stopped her wriggling at once, and only moan into her gag as the man completed the insertion of the dildo in her, leaving only the knurled cap at the end of the shank outside the lips of her vulva.

The man now stood up and went over to the row of anal plugs, lined up underneath the dildos. They seemed to have been arranged in sizes corresponding to the dildos above them. He took the one under the gap left vacant by the dildo now residing within Catwoman's vagina. He applied a big helping of lubricant on the pointed rubber tip of the cone of the butt. He let it stand in his hand to let the goo slid down the cone to the flanged base of the plug. Replacing the tube on its rack, he rubbed the goo all over the cone and came around to Catwoman's rear.

Catwoman looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. Her propped open mouth continued to drool, dripping saliva onto the floor below her. Her slaver, of course, ignored her and knelt down behind her. Soon, she felt the tip of the cone being applied to the puckered mouth of her anus. She screwed her eyes shut at what she knew was coming next, as the point parted her sphincter and entered her.

As the cone advanced into her, its girth grew steadily. A shock shot up Catwoman's spine as the sphincter reached its elastic limit. She threw back her head once more at the pain. Her slaver eased off a little bit for a while, then renewed the advance of the cone, stretching her sphincter still further.

"MMMMMMMMPHHHHH!" Catwoman moaned into her ball-gag, as another bout of pain shot up from her ass.

The man eased off again, and let Catwoman rest for a couple of moments, then, with one firm shove, he pressed the plug in all the way until the sphincter closed over the flanged base, eliciting one final gagged moan from the enslaved feline bandit. She could only shake her head at the pain, panting and perspiring.

“Don’t drop those now,” the man warned, “Otherwise, I would just have to put in something bigger.”

The man now took a piece of rope, already doubled, and belted the loop end around Catwoman’s trim waist, just above her rounded hips. He fed the running ends through the loop under her stomach, drawing the lines tight to constrict it mercilessly around her torso, before pulling it forcefully back towards her crotch. He inserted the running ends through her clitoris ring, then made a knot in the lines just above her clitoris, before pulling the lines over the bases of the dildo and anal plug inserted in her lower orifices, before pulling the line sup between the cheeks of her buttocks, up the small of her back, to finally insert the running ends under the belt of rope around her waist. He pulled the lines back hard to tighten the lines over her crotch, before tying the lines in place. As the lines constricted over her crotch, the dildo and anal plug were pushed deeper into Catwoman, eliciting yet another gagged moan from the hapless captive. He still had several feet of free lines left, which he then knotted at one end, and allowed the lines to drop back down her crotch to dangle between her legs, forming a crude facsimile of a tail.

The man bent down to retrieve the rope leash again, and led Catwoman crawling out of the warehouse, back into the garage once more. He bent down and untied her legs, allowing her to unfold them.

“Stand up, slave.” The man ordered. Catwoman got up unsteadily. The rubber dildo and plug felt large and heavy inside of her. She felt as if she wanted to go to the toilet, and her vagina wall was aching faintly from being stretched to such an unrealistic degree.

“Onto the treadmill, you lazy bitch.” the man scolded. Catwoman turned and walked up onto the treadmill, up to the usual position, and waited while the man hooked her up in the usual manner. All the while, she could feel the dildo and plug pushing down against the crotch rope holding them in place. Their own weights alone would have sufficed to pull them out of her lubricated tracts if the lines had not held them in place. These attempted escape of the rubber monsters inside of her only added to her discomfort as their movements rubbed her vagina wall or stretched her sphincter uncomfortably.

The man threw the switch on the treadmill, and Catwoman began to pace on the mill. She found another difficulty created by the presence of the rubber toys inside of her. Their girths were so great that she had to spread her thighs somewhat so as not to jostle them. This made walking as she had become accustomed to in her high heels, placing one foot in front of the other, at an angle pointing diagonally out, was difficult. She had to use a more inelegant and manly walk, with her legs apart.

The discomfort only increased when the speed of the treadmill was increased. Try as Catwoman might, she could not keep from jostling the dildo and plug inside of her as she walked faster and faster. As she did so, the dildo and plug shoved in and out of her tracts. Adding to these irritations, the knot on the crotch rope over her clitoris was beginning to rub against her soft fleshy knob. As her training continued, she realized to her horror that she was becoming horny, as her clit was manipulated by the rope, and as the dildo and plug were shoved up and down her cunt and asshole.

“No!” Catwoman cursed in her heart, as she became more and more aroused. She began to pant, both from the exertion of the exercise regime, and from her increasing arousal. She knew she was beginning to juice when the dildo began to move even more freely in her love tunnel, which only increased her libido. Soon, she could feel the trickle of juice coming out of the wide opened mouth of her dildo to flow down the insides of her thighs.

“Faster!” Catwoman’s slaver cried. She felt the first of the electric bites flare on her nipples. Under the electric pads, they were already engorged from her arousal. The shocks only seemed to make them even more sensitive, causing Catwoman to moan into her ball-gag.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmphhhh…”

The electric bites increased in number and intensity, shooting all over Catwoman’s abused body, forcing her to walk faster and faster until she broke into a job. Of course, this only made things worse down below for her, as the dildo, the plug, and the crotch rope all assaulted her sensitive zones even more violently. She could feel an orgasm building inside of her even as she struggled to keep up with the speed of the machine.

The inevitable happened. Catwoman felt herself cum down below, as she threw her head back in the throes of an orgasm. The momentary loss of focus proved her undoing. She tripped and fell heavily onto her side, slipping off the treadmill into the pit. Thankfully, the chain hooked to her clitoris ring disconnected as she fell. The pit itself was lined with more rubber mats, which cushioned her fall. She landed on her back, her legs spread open, her vulva completely wet from her orgasm. She laid panting, with her eyes half closed.

The man stood over the pit for a moment, admiring the bound and gagged beauty in the pit. He was secretly delighted at the sight, particularly the horniness she had displayed when being placed in such a harsh bondage regime. She was giving him the most fun he had in years.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the man scolded after a while, “Sleeping on the job? You will have to be punished!”

Catwoman could only shake her head weakly in protest, but it was no use. The man picked up the two pieces of rope that he had used to bind her legs previously, before climbing into the pit, grabbing her rope leash, and pulling her out of the pit. He led her, still wobbly from the exercise, from her orgasm and from the fall, back towards her cage. But instead of putting her back inside, he pulled her stomach against one of the edges across the top of the cage, and pulled her neck down towards the other edge. He tied her leash rope to the frame of the cage, leaving her bent over her cage. He then used the ropes that he had used to frog-tie her to bind her ankles to the two vertical posts of the frame on the side she was leaning against, binding her legs in a spread-open position. This, of course, left her crotch exposed for use.

The man pulled aside the lines of the crotch rope crossing over the base of the dildo and plug. He pulled the plug out unceremoniously, causing Catwoman to suck in a breath at the sensation. He placed the soiled plug on top of the cage, next to her bound body. Then he pulled out the long dildo, before letting the crotch lines nestle back over her vulva.

Catwoman twisted her head back in an effort to see what the man was doing. When she heard him unzip his pants, she guessed that she was about to be raped again. Then, she felt the hotness of the tip of his penis press against her anus, and her eyes widened.

Catwoman had been a prostitute before, and she certainly had been paid to be taken in her ass before. She never really liked it, because it hurt if the client did not do it gently. She knew that this man would not be gentle. On top of that, she was already used to being used as a fuck toy in her cunt, but this was the first time she was to be raped in her ass as well. This drove home cruelly the fact that she was nothing more than a sex slave now, to be used as the man saw fit, with no limits as to what they could do to her.

Catwoman looked ahead of her as she felt the man begin to penetrate her ass. She saw the TV display the scene from the cameras’ point of view, of her bound body bent over the cage, and the man penetrating her from behind. Her head was still covered by her Catwoman purple cowl, but that mask had long lost its former significance as a symbol of her independence and skill. She realized that by letting her continue to wear her cowl, the man was merely driving home the point that she had been captured, bound, raped, and abused as the mighty Catwoman, not as the lowly human former prostitute Selina Kyle. Even her powerful alter ego had been defeated and brought low, just like any other women would, by the man. As the man’s hot penis drove deep into her rectum, Catwoman felt the crushing weight of defeat and humiliation weigh on her heart, and tears trickled out of the corner of her eyes.

+++++

Catwoman had been left on the top of the cage for the rest of the day. Of course, the guards were allowed to make of her in her vulnerable state, in both her ass and her cunt. If there was any mercy shown to her, it was that her mouth continued to be gagged, sparing that orifice from abuse. Nonetheless, by evening, her cunt and asshole were heavily stained with semen and cum. Her asshole, especially, was a slack oval band, with white sludge flowing out of it.

Catwoman’s slaver had returned.

“Have we learnt our lesson, slut?” the man demanded sternly. Catwoman could only nod, lowering her eyes automatically in capitulation. The man smiled at this. He walked around behind her, and shoved the dildo and anal plug back into her cunt and ass, securing them in place with the crotch rope. Then he released her from her bondage position over the cage, allowing her to slide down onto the floor. He flipped her onto her back, and proceeded to bound her legs in a frog-tied position, restoring her to her usual position. Then he put her back into her cage and fed her.

The man continued Catwoman’s training for the next few days. Each time produced the same results, in terms of how horny she got, and how she orgased during her training. But prepared for this eventuality now, she was able to continue jogging even as she felt the throes of orgasm. She would merely moan and pant, but she continued.

The man now added more elements to her training.

“You are walking like a man, Catslut.” the man scolded her, “You will have to learn to walk with your legs together.”

Catwoman’s slaver then imposed a hobble skirt on her. It was constructed out of thick rubber. It resembled a keystone in its shape, with a square top, and a wide base. This wide base was wrapped around her long thighs, covering them. When the series of buckled straps lining their sides were done up, from behind her knees up to her rump, they forced her knees together, forming her thighs into the shape of an inverted A. The top panel is then pulled over her groin, and the belt threaded through its top tightened around her narrow waist.

Catwoman found that the elegant posture of her legs imposed by the skirt forced the dildo and the plug further inside of her. It upped the level of discomfort just when she got used to walking with their presence inside of her lower orifices. She found that the skirt also imposed a particular way of walking on her, forcing her to place one arched foot directly in front of the other, landing almost on the outer side of her feet, in an elegant walk. This would force her hips to sway from side to side in an even more exaggerated manner, making her look very sexy indeed.

Catwoman again had some initial difficulty with the hobble skirt. Of course, she was punished again. This time, she was brought to the toilet used by the guards. She was placed in one of the stalls, on the toilet bowl, with her legs still frog-tied. They were then kept spread open by two ropes, one each being tied around her upper thighs under the crook formed by her folded legs. The other ends of the ropes were then tied to eyebolts screwed into the top of the walls of the stall, on either side of her, forcing her to not only spread her legs, but also raise her butt, exposing her cunt for use. Which the guards made liberal use of again. Catwoman could only endure her abuse as much as she could.

As always, Catwoman got better after a few days. She could now walked most elegantly with the hobble skirt imposed on her. That was when the man introduced the corset to her.

Catwoman had worn corsets before, of course. She did like to wear them, as they shaped her already beautiful body to an even more sexy hour-glass. She liked to use them especially in her dominatrix routines, wearing a strapless PVC version, together with PVC leggings.

The one the man produced was almost like this version, but was of black rubber, like the hobble skirt. Instead of lacings, the corset had sturdy steel snap-fasteners, which was absolutely necessary given the powerful elastic pull the rubber imposed. This corset was molded to resemble the shape of a classic corset with vertical bonings, but it did not contain actual bonings. This did not mean, however, that it was any easier to wear. The heavy was heavy and not very elastic, although it would stretch if sufficient force was applied to stretch it.

Human arms were not sufficient to do so, so the corset was initially spread open across a curved iron frame. The ends of the corsets had D-rings mounted on their tops and hems. These were hooked over studs on the four corners of the iron frame. The iron frame itself was hinged in the center, and could be closed, bringing its sides together, almost like a book. The curved nature of the frame formed a space between its curved arms to accommodate a person.

The frame was set up in a corner of the warehouse, and Catwoman had been brought up to the corseting machine. She was marched up against the stretched rubber corset, the top of which came up to the undersides of her breasts. Two semi-circular scoops on the top of the corset allowed her breasts to flow over the top of the corsets to rest against its rubbery surface. Then, with her arms raised, the arms were closed by a motor, bringing the ends of the corsets together behind her. Almost immediately, she felt the almost crushing squeeze of the rubber corset. She felt as if a giant hand had grabbed her by her waist, and applied a powerful constriction to it, rearranging her organs underneath, pushing up her breasts and pushing down her hips. The man had applied the powerful snap fasteners behind her, imprisoning her in the rubber prison, and preventing the corset from opening on its own. When she was released, she found that she could only breathe in small and quick breaths, which she had to do carefully, for otherwise she might hyperventilate.

Catwoman had been led to a standing mirror to examine herself. She must admit that the corset had imposed a formidable hour-glass figure on her. Her already trim waist seemed to have been reduced drastically, which only served to exaggerate the expanse of her breasts and the flare of her hips. The rubber of the corset had been rubbed with silicon to a glossy shine, which added only to its sexy glamour.

Catwoman had been placed back onto the treadmill. Again, she found it difficult at first, given how it was impossible for her to take in enough air to keep up the pace. She felt faint after a short while, and almost stumbled off the treadmill, but she gritted her teeth over her ball-gag, and somehow managed to continue.

The man, of course, was pleased. He had doubted the wisdom of this latest imposition. No other human woman would have been able to endure it. Catwoman, somehow, had managed to overcome the corset the first time she tried it. She was truly an exceptional specimen. It was definitely worth his while to break her to his will.

“Very good, Catslave.” the man said, stopping the machine, bringing the rubber tracks to a slow halt. Catwoman came to a stop, panting, beads of perspirations covering her exposed flesh. Her purple cowl was dark with moisture as usual, and the man wrinkled his nose. It was beginning to smell, and much as he wanted to keep it on her, it clearly was time for it to go.

“Kneel.” the man ordered. Catwoman climbed off the treadmill and slowly got onto her knees. It wasn’t easy as she was still wearing the hobble-skirt that was part of her training. He now removed this garment and put it aside. Underneath, beads of perspiration covered her long shapely thighs.

“Forward onto your elbows, slut.” the man ordered. Catwoman did as she was told, and bent forward until her elbows touched the floor. He knelt down and folded up her left leg, binding it in place, then did the same to her right leg, forcing her once again to stand on her elbows and knees. He grabbed her rope leash, and gave it a tug. He did not have to pull her along nowadays. She put up no resistance as he walked out of the garage, following him as best as she could, crawling on her elbows and knees.

The man led her out of the garage, then the warehouse, turning into a staircase Catwoman had never seen before. He led her up the steps of the staircase, being surprisingly patient with her as she had trouble negotiating the stairs, bound as she was. Somehow, she managed to negotiate the steps on her elbows and knees, finally emerging on the second floor. She found herself looking down a corridor with a row of doors down each side. To her, it looked rather like the cheap whorehouse that she had first started out in when she was a prostitute.

The man led Catwoman down the corridor to a door at the end. He opened it and led her into a room. For a moment, she blinked at the bright lights in the room, but when her eyes adjusted, she was surprised to find herself in a room that was white-tiled on all its walls and floor. The ceiling was also neatly painted, and fitted with white lights. Everything about the room was clean and sterile looking, in sharp contrast to the filth that she had been kept in since she was brought to this place.

And where was this place, precisely? Catwoman did not know. In fact, she was surprised she had not actually thought about this question. Her mind had been occupied almost exclusively by the torment that she had suffered at the hands of the man. She knew that she was in some sort of Third World country, and the guards as well as the people she had glimpsed during her road trip from the airfield seemed to indicate she was somewhere in South America. But beyond that, there was nothing to hint at where she had been brought to.

Catwoman glanced around the room, and saw that it was equipped with a white tub sunk into the floor, enough for two persons to lay in. In the center of the room, there was a metallic bar suspended from a hoist in the ceiling, which resembled the one she been suspended from to dry in the dirty warehouse prison, except that this one was of shiny chrome steel. The room had air-conditioning, which felt cool and wonderful against the sweaty body of the slave as she crawled on the tiles, being led by her slaver towards the bar. 

The man stopped her just under the steel bar. It had been lowered to about the height of his chest as Catwoman was brought to a stop under it.

“Sit back on your heels.” the man ordered. Catwoman obeyed almost instantly, raising her torso off the floor, with her bound arms lowered down by her sides. The man reached down and untied her right arm, and allowed her to unfold it, but then immediately pulled it back behind her, preventing her from making any attempt to strike at him. He pulled the opera glove off her right arm, before rotating her arm forward and up towards one end of the bar. There were metal manacles fitted to either end, and he opened the swing arm of the one on the right end, swung it around to encircle it around the right wrist of Catwoman, ratcheting it shut on its internal locks. Then, he untied her left arm, and repeated the process, stripping the fingerless glove that had clad it for so long, before securing the other manacle around her left wrist.

The man now untied Catwoman’s legs. He took her left leg, and pulled it back, leaving her balanced on her right knee. She had to grab the steel bar she was manacled to for balance as he did so. She heard the zip of the boot being undone. The boot was then pulled off her foot, and dropped onto the floor. Replacing the leg on the floor, the man now turned to her right leg and took off the boot cladding it too, leaving her long legs uncovered for the first time in a long while. Once the boots were off, the man disappeared for a moment, and she heard a drawer being slid softly open. When the man returned, he was carrying chromed steel leg irons, a pair of large cuffs connected by a short chain. He squatted down behind the kneeling Catwoman and cuffed her ankles together.

When the man was done, he stood up and disappeared from view again. Catwoman heard the click of a switch being turned on, and the steel bar she was bound to begun to rise quietly towards the ceiling, as the chain suspending it disappeared link by link through a hole in the ceiling, until she was standing on tip-toes on her bare feet, her chest thrust forward and juggling lightly. The man went around behind her and untied her crotch rope. When the tension from the lines was released, the heavy dildo slid out of her lubricated vagina, falling with a soft plop between her manacle feet. Then, she felt her rectum retract, and the anal plug suddenly shot out from her ass, bounced on the tiled floor to land behind her.

The rope belt was still tied around her waist, under Catwoman’s corset. The man now went behind her. He unfastened the clamps holding the ends together, and the garment almost sprung away from her body to flop onto the floor. With a sigh of relief, the chained captive glanced down at her torso to see the red imprints left by the inside of the corset on her soft flesh. With the rope belt now uncovered, the man completed the removal of the crotch rope and threw it aside.

The man next reached up and unbuckled the collar around Catwoman’s throat. He let it fall to the ground as well. Then he unbuckled Catwoman’s ball-gag. This too was allowed to fall to the floor. Catwoman closed her aching jaws and swallowed reflexively, tasting the rubber tainted saliva.

The man came around to the front of Catwoman. For a moment, he looked up at her, as if contemplating something. Then, with a flash, he pulled the purple cowl off of Catwoman’s head, revealing the face of Selina Kyle for the first time since her second capture. Her hair was in a mess, and her make-up had long since been completely destroyed. Unlike the proud Catwoman, she looked tired and beaten subjugated. Her eyes popped open in shock at this move. The cowl was the only thing that had covered this fact. Now that it was suddenly ripped from her head, she felt all the more that she had been reduced to nothing more than a sex slave, in spite of the fact that had already been bound, gagged and sexually abused. This seemed the final nail in her identity as Catwoman, reducing her back to her former status as a cheap whore, an identity she had worked so hard over the years to distance herself from, remaking herself into a wealthy socialite as Selina Kyle, and as the dangerous Catwoman. Both have now been destroyed at the hands of the man. 

“You are now no longer Catwoman, slut. In fact, you’re not even Selina Kyle, the socialite.” the man said, twirling the purple lycra cowl in his hand, “You’re what you are really, that whore who call herself simply Selina as she does tricks by the roadside.”

Selina thought of replying, but screwed her lips shut. She knew that it would only earn her some horrible punishment. Instead, she merely nodded submissively as the man threw the cowl aside.

“You are in a mess. We must clean you up.” the man said. Suddenly, he raised his hands and clapped once. A white door in the corner of the room immediately opened and a pair of figure stepped in.

Selina gaped at the figures. They were obviously feminine, but they were clad entirely from head to toe in white latex. Both of them wore a latex catsuit with a high neck that reached their chin. It extended down their sleek bodies, adhering to every curve of their firm breasts and wide hips as it plunged down. The crotch of the catsuit was jammed up tight against their pussy, forming uncomfortable looking camel toes on their crotches. The leggings that flowed down from there clad their long thin legs, before ending up in white PVC ankle boots.