Chapter 10

 

Cold. So cold.

Gabrielle shivered as she reached for the duvet. Wait, where was her duvet?

Wait, where were her pyjamas?

She sat up in bed, straight as a board, and a cold sweat broke across her brow. This wasn’t her bedroom. This wasn’t her bed. This wasn’t a dream, though she desperately wished it were.

Bereft of tears, she turned to gaze out the window. What time was it? Midnight? The sky was a starless purple sheet and the moon nowhere to be seen, yet its bluish glow reflected in the stark white complexions of the statues in the garden down below. Who were those figures, she wondered? Had this place always been a so-called rehabilitation centre, or did it have a brighter history? Hard to imagine a darker one.

She heard a clicking noise and by the time she’d spun around the door was swinging open. The beast! Had to be.

But it wasn’t.

“Madame?” Cover her naked body with the sheet, Gabrielle took in the strange sight in the threshold: Mme de Villeneuve wearing a shiny latex bodysuit, incredibly high-heeled boots, and a mind-melting blue strap-on dildo. Gabrielle didn’t know whether to laugh or gasp. Madame made the decision for her by raising a riding crop in the air and bringing it down swiftly enough to shock the breath out of her lungs.

“You!” Pointing the crop at Gabrielle, Madame stepped closer to the bed. “You tried to unmask my beast.”

Gabrielle’s heart pounded. She didn’t know whether to keep an eye on that big blue cock or the stern black crop. “How did you know about that?”

“You truly believe that anything you do in my manor is private, child? How wrong you are! Mme de Villeneuve knows all, sees all.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabrielle said, though she wasn’t really. “I just wanted to see what he looked like. Is that so wrong?”

Bringing the crop’s leather tongue down on the mattress, Madame cried, “You have upset the great balance, Suzanne. You have upset it tremendously.”

“What great balance?” Gabrielle asked, feeling her legs tremble with fear.

“The beast is not a man, to you. The beast represents your desire. He should not be an individual. He should only act as lightning rod for your uncontrollable arousal.”

Gabrielle pressed her palms against her eyes to alleviate the sharp pain behind them. “If you’re so all-knowing, how could you possibly think I’m the one with the uncontrollable arousal? Don’t you know what your beast did? I said no and he attacked. He forced himself on me. Is this what you call therapy? Because if it is, you’ve got a screw loose, lady.”

“Hush!” Mme de Villeneuve brought her riding crop down just inches away from Gabrielle’s toes. “You will take your punishment in silence, child.”

“No,” Gabrielle said, though she was shaking, terrified. “I don’t deserve to be punished. This isn’t some make-believe planet where it’s okay to reprimand women against their will. This is the real world, and in the real world I have every right to unmask my aggressor. I have every right to go to the police and bring him up on charges. But first I need to know who he is.”

“Silence!” Madame cried, showing Gabrielle the item she’d been holding behind her back. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t need to use this on you, Suzanne, but you are simply incorrigible this evening. I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

Gabrielle didn’t know what she was looking at, but as Madame lunged forward she knew she didn’t want it anywhere near her. “What are you doing? Stop it! Get that thing off me!”

Tossing the crop on the bed, Mme de Villeneuve fitted some sort of leather harness over Gabrielle’s head. She tried to push the woman off or cast the leather thing away, but her muscles wouldn’t cooperate. She raised her foot and, though it was buried beneath the crisp white sheets, managed to kick Madame in the belly.

Mme de Villeneuve staggered across the room, looking down as if to ask what had happened. When it sank in the she’d been kicked, her eyes blazed. “How daaare you?”

“I’m sorry!” Gabrielle squealed, because she was really in trouble now. She tried to roll off the bed, but her legs were tangled in the sheet like a mermaid stuck in seaweed. “Oh crap.”

She pushed at the linens, but that was a bad move. Mme de Villeneuve grabbed her wrists with almost as much strength as the beast had exerted over her.

“I’m sorry,” Gabrielle said, like a broken record. “I’ll be good. I swear.”

“You will not be good,” Madame growled. “Not without training.”

Madame pinned her to the bed, pressing that huge dildo down on her ass. Thank goodness for the sheet, though it didn’t do much good when the witch grabbed the leather reins clipped to the crop’s handle. With mercenary precision, Mme de Villeneuve wrapped Gabrielle’s wrists together. She couldn’t hope to escape.

“What are you doing?” Gabrielle moaned, feeling suddenly lost in exhaustion. “What are you putting on my head?”

“What does it feel like I’m putting on your head?” Madame fitted something rubberized between her teeth. It reminded her of the kind of bit you’d put in a horse’s mouth, not that she was any kind of expert. Why on earth would Madame put one in hers?

When she tried to ask, she got her answer: with the bit between her teeth, she couldn’t speak—not clearly.

“Ahh ah-eu eu-eee eu-ee?”

What are you doing to me?

Madame didn’t answer. Instead, she hooked the harness strap under Gabrielle’s chin, around the back of her neck, and then criss-crossed it over the top of her head. She shook, but it wouldn’t come loose.

“Ahh ee!”

Help me! Gabrielle shook like a wet dog.

“There’s no use trying,” Madame advised. “You would not shut your mouth. Now you cannot shut your mouth. You cannot speak, which suits me rightly. You have become quite an irritating young woman in the time you’ve been here, Suzanne. I should wonder if my therapy will have any positive effect at all.”

“Ahh ee! Uh-uh!”

Help me! Someone!

Clicking her teeth, Mme de Villeneuve hooked the leather straps to the metal O-rings on either side of Gabrielle’s face. The O-rings connected the rubber bit to the head harness, and now her tied-up hands were also attached. Wonderful. Nowhere to go but wherever Madame led her.

“Come now, filthy child.” Madame tugged the reins, drawing Gabrielle backwards off the bed. “Goodness gracious, you stink of cheese!”

“Ahh eee!”

My feet! They remained tangled in the sheet as Gabrielle tumbled to the floor, smacking her knees and then her breasts against the old wood.

“Get up!” Madame commanded. “Up on your hind legs, silly creature.”

“Ah aaaeee.”

I can’t!

“You can and you will.” Pulling the reins until they cut into Gabrielle’s arms, Madame persuaded her roughly to her feet. “There you are. What did I tell you? Don’t give up without trying first, Suzanne.”

“Ah ahhee.”

I’m sorry.

Leading Gabrielle across the room, Madame opened the large wooden door and pushed her through the threshold. The antechamber sat in darkness, but by the light of the moon she could see that the table had been cleared and the broken glass cleaned up. Thank goodness, because her feet were bare and the last thing she needed was bleeding toes.

Gabrielle hesitated in front of the secret passage from which the beast had earlier emerged. Their “date” streamed to mind, overwhelming her every sense. All she could smell was the cheese coating her skin. All she could feel was a beast’s cock pounding her cunt as she begged him to stop. All she could hear was the band she’d once loved. Now they would always remind her of that horrid night with a man she thought she could trust.

“Ehh ah oo aaee eee?”

Where are you taking me?

“Walk on,” Madame commanded, pressing Gabrielle toward the smoky passageway.

Was the beast down that corridor? Would he take her while Madame watched… or while Madame participated? After all, the woman wore a strap-on that could easily compete with the beast for girth.

“I said walk on. Do I need to whip you, child?”

Mme de Villeneuve didn’t wait for an answer. She slapped Gabrielle’s ass with the cruel tongue of her riding crop.

The moment Gabrielle felt that sting, she bore her teeth into the rubber bit, simultaneously shrieking and hopping in the air. She had no idea where she was headed, but she raced down a corridor fitted with institutional fluorescent lights. The checkerboard vinyl tiles felt soft and warm against her bare feet, and the minty green paint bubbled along the wall. Everything about this hallway screamed hospital from the sixties. Gabrielle wondered where on earth she was heading, but she didn’t stop running until Madame pulled the reins.

“Whoa, Nelly.” Madame clicked her teeth and tugged until the bit spread Gabrielle’s mouth wider. “That’s a good girl. Rest for a moment while I unlatch the gate.”

Gate? What gate? All that stood before her was another heavy wooden door, like so many that had trapped her in this monstrous manor house.

Gabrielle struggled to contain the spit welling under her tongue. Swallowing was almost impossible, and she felt truly ashamed of herself as dribble ran down the side of her chin. Hopefully Madame wouldn’t notice. Anyway, Madame was busy unbolting the numerous antiquated locks on the door. Maybe if Gabrielle shook her head like a pony the spittle would dislodge.

She gave it a try just as Madame turned around. A slick stream of spit flew between them, settling on the woman’s shiny latex cat suit.

“Suzanne!” Madame shouted.

“Ahh ahheee!”

I’m sorry!

“I try to domesticate your desire and this is the thanks I get? First you attempt to unmask my beast and now you spit on me?”

“Ahh ahheee!”

“You are a very ungrateful girl, Suzanne. I give you every opportunity for redemption and this is how you repay me?”

“Ahh ahheee!”

But sorry obviously didn’t cut it, because Mme de Villeneuve raised her crop and brought it down in one callous motion. “There! What do you think of that, Suzanne?”

The leather tongue struck her exposed nipple so intensely Gabrielle’s vision blurred. Crickets. She heard crickets. She hadn’t noticed them before, but now they were everywhere, by the sounds of it.

“And again,” Madame said, striking the other breast. Her aim was off this time and she caught Gabrielle’s flesh rather than the nipple, but she went again and hit the mark. “That’s better.”

Gabrielle screamed, producing a guttural noise that left her throat without her tongue’s interference. Sheets of pain streaked through her body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Did Madame realize how much this hurt?

“Come!” Madame instructed, hooking her finger through the left O-ring.

When Madame nudged the door open with the sole of her boot, Gabrielle dug her bare heels into the vinyl.

“Goodness child, what now?”

“Aww ahhiiii.”

Not outside!

“When I say come, I mean it.” Madame brought the crop up instead of down, this time striking Gabrielle’s naked pussy.

Gabrielle thanked her lucky stars for her pubic hair and the fact that she was standing with her legs more closed than open. If Madame had struck her full on the clit with that amount of force, she couldn’t fathom the pain.

“Stop fussing,” Madame said, and pulled Gabrielle beyond another threshold.

She should have expected cruel and unusual punishment, but at least everything else she’d been subjected to had taken place indoors. Now that Mme de Villeneuve had pulled her outside, anyone might spot her naked and harnessed like a horse. She couldn’t even cover her bare breasts with her hands. Madame had tied both wrists behind her back.

The moment Gabrielle’s bare feet met the cool wet grass of the mansion’s side yard, she looked around desperately. Sure it was the middle of the night and they were surrounding by trees, but anyone might be watching: bums taking shelter in the ravine, boy scouts camping out for the night, Google satellites capturing midnight shots of North American neighbourhoods—anything was possible.

“I told you to stop fussing.” Madame smacked her again, catching her inner thigh this time. She should have been relieved, but it actually hurt more than the smack to her pussy. Madame must have realized how tortured Gabrielle felt, because she dealt another blow quickly thereafter, striking the other thigh.

“Ahhh!”

Ahhh!

The crop’s cruel bite couldn’t compare to any sensation Gabrielle had experienced. It wasn’t like a bee sting or a mosquito bite. It was worse than poison ivy and stinging nettle combined. It brought an immediate blinding pain she could feel not only in her skin, but throughout her entire body. Worse yet, it made her scream. It made her scream while she stood naked outdoors, hoping not to draw attention to herself.

Madame’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Tucking the crop under her arm, Madame took up the reins with both hands. Madame stood so close behind Gabrielle that the terrifying strap-on dildo nudged her fingers. She almost considered wrapping her hands around its generous girth just to see what it would feel like, but when Madame slapped the outside of her thigh with that horrible crop, she jumped and let go of the dildo. She didn’t know where she was headed, but that vicious slap put a bounce in her step.

Madame followed along in surprisingly steady bounds, especially considering the shoes she had on. “Take a right. Good girl. Then straight ahead.”

Gabrielle’s breasts bounced with every step. They stuck out in front because her tied-up hands forced her shoulders back. Midnight air kissed every inch of her skin and the cool grass felt surprisingly lovely against her tender feet. The more she ran, the more freeing running felt—even if she was harnessed to a cruel mistress parading as some kind of rehab therapist.

“Straight ahead, Suzanne. Stop at the barn doors and I will let you in.”

They must have been far to the side of the property, because Gabrielle hadn’t seen this structure from the main gates, or indeed from her window. The wood slat stables had obviously been built in the days when townsfolk rode horse-drawn carriages around town. Older houses had them, though most had been converted into garages. Far more people had cars than horses, these days.

The barn door shrieked like a banshee as Madame heaved it open. The stables had three pens—no they weren’t called pens. What were they called? Well, there were three of them, anyway. Each was gated at the front and walled with wooden slats all around. Madame opened one and Gabrielle naturally stepped inside, like she knew what she was doing.

She wished she could tell Mme de Villeneuve how beautiful she found the place, though it wouldn’t fit most people’s ideas of beauty. The dusty scent of hay made her sneeze, but she liked it. Reminded her of something she’d forgotten—a lost memory of petting zoos and class trips to the farm.

Madame wheeled the barn door closed. Locked. Gabrielle glanced around for some alternate means of escape, but would she really run off in this state? Naked, covered in cheese and kitted up like a horse with a fondness for bondage?

When Madame returned, it was only to say, “Come.”

She then ducked out of the stall—is that what it’s called? Not a pen, but a stall?—and followed the sound of Madame’s husky voice to a concrete strip with a drain in the middle.

“You stink,” said Mme de Villeneuve, pointing the nozzle of a garden hose at her. “Child, you absolutely reek of cheese.”

“Ayeo.”

I know.

Gabrielle bowed her head in resignation. What was she supposed to do? Fight it? Anyway, she hadn’t washed since the sponge bath Madame gave her, and that was days ago.

“Are you ready?”

Gabrielle nodded.

“Good.”

The hose blasted her feet with surprisingly warm water, but it cooled considerably as it attacked her filthy knees. She braced herself, expecting Madame to strike her pussy, but Madame skipped that region completely, instead making her way up to Gabrielle’s belly. Her breasts were slick with brie, and Madame spent a long while blasting her nipples with frigid water. It hurt like hell, but every time Madame switched breasts she felt a pulse in her clit. Her pussy hadn’t felt so itchy for a fuck since she’d been drugged. Now it pounded. Her pussy lips felt huge. Her clit was like a cock. This must be what it felt like to have an erection. God, she just wanted to fuck something with it.

How could she communicate with this bit between her teeth?

She couldn’t speak, so she opened her legs in hopes that Mme de Villeneuve would take the hint. Nope. Madame blasted the hose against her chest. The closer she stepped, the more Gabrielle felt like she was being shot at. She opened her legs so wide she could hardly stand as Madame released the trigger. “Turn around. Let me do your back.”

Reluctantly, Gabrielle spun around. She tried to bend forward to show off her swollen pussy, but bending with her hands tied behind her back made her feel tipsy.

“Ehh eee.”

Help me.

Ignoring her pleas, Madame shot a cold stream of water between Gabrielle’s shoulders. Gabrielle screamed. Her nipples peaked so hard they hurt. Was it the cold or the arousal? She couldn’t be sure, but they were more erect than she’d ever seen them, and they just kept growing like Pinocchio’s nose. It was almost a scary sight.

Gabrielle leaned forward, trying to direct Madame’s gaze to the throbbing gash between her legs. This time, Madame grabbed the reins with one hand and shot Gabrielle’s asshole with the hose. As Madame held her steady, she leaned forward, exulting in the strange pressure the water exerted on her hole. She’d never been fucked there. In truth she’d often wondered why anybody would participate in such a heinous act. But as cold water numbed her backside, she felt somewhat open to the experience.

“Good girl,” Madame said. “Very good.”

Gabrielle’s breasts hung like weights. As Madame struck her pussy with the hose, they swayed violently. She couldn’t keep herself from bucking against the water. It felt so good, all that water pummeling her pucker, getting right up in her pussy and cleaning her out. It was a psychic cleansing as much as a physical one.

Maybe Mme de Villeneuve knew what she was doing after all.

The strain on Gabrielle’s shoulders made her shriek as she fucked the hose. Madame moved the nozzle around, perhaps to tease her, perhaps to clean traces of cheese from her butt cheeks. Every time that hard-hitting stream fucked her pussy or flicked her clit, she clamped her teeth around the bit and produced an odd open-mouthed scream.

“I’d say you were clean enough.” Madame tossed the hose to the ground. “Back in your stall, Suzanne.”

Madame held her counterbalanced by the reins as she stepped slowly toward the stall. The hay pricked her feet while the muscles in her legs snapped. Without the focus of impending orgasm, she couldn’t rely on her arousal to keep her standing. She let her knees meet one hay bale. Her cheek found another. She splayed herself so Madame could take her from behind. She was no longer naïve Gabrielle. Over the course of the past week, she’d become Suzanne. She could no longer deny her desires. She could no longer control them.

“Uhh eee!”

Fuck me!

She extended her ass, parting her legs.

“Uhh eee!”

Mme de Villeneuve traced her crop across Gabrielle’s wet skin. Was it her imagination, or had Madame drawn a heart on her ass? When she arrived at the base of that heart, she slid the leather tongue the length of Gabrielle’s swollen pussy lips. Up, and then all the way down to her throbbing clit. If she thought her lips were engorged, they had nothing on that fat little nub. It pounded and pulsed. It felt huge.

Where was the beast? He could put her to rest. So what if she couldn’t trust him with her fragile emotions? She could certainly trust him to get her off. Really, what else did she need in life? She was a different person now. They’d broken her spirit, Madame and her minion. Now there was nothing but giving and getting.

Resting the side of the bit on a bale of hay, Gabrielle turned her head until her back twisted awkwardly. Her spine would not thank her for this, but what did she care of her body? She was covered in bruises—bruises on top of bruises, and cuts and scrapes on top of those—and she knew things would get worse before they got better.

So have at it, Mme de Villeneuve. Take me with that plastic cock. Fuck me hard. Make me scream. What do I care?

Her pussy felt so swollen she was surprised Madame could find the slit. When the latex woman entered her, she felt like she was being split in two. Maybe she’d underestimated the beating her pussy had taken over the past few days. Maybe that fake cock was too much for Gabrielle’s cunt. She tried not to wince. Her belly swirled with want. How else could it be fulfilled? But when Madame thrust that dangerous dick inside her, she bit down on the strip of rubber and she screamed.

Madame pulled out slowly. “You are in pain, my child.”

How could she deny it? She was crying into her hay bale.

“You have been overexposed to vaginal intercourse.”

“Ahhhh.”

Yeahhh.

“But you crave cock.”

Gabrielle whimpered and moaned.

“I can still satisfy you without filling your pussy.”

Thank goodness!

“I only need a bit of this slick stuff.”

Christ, was that veterinary lubricant? Whatever it was, Madame slathered it the length of her strap-on dildo before spreading it up and down Gabrielle’s ass crack.

Just when she was starting to feel clean for the first time all week, Mme de Villeneuve pressed the pad of a thumb against her asshole. “Have you ever been fucked here, my dear?”

The only sound she could produce was a whimper.

Madame shoved that thumb fully into her ass. “Does this hurt you, my dear?”

Gabrielle shook her head without raising it from the hay bale.

“Does it feel strange?”

Gabrielle nodded.

“You feel self-conscious?” Madame asked. “You feel as though you might lose control of your bowels and humiliate yourself in front of me?”

Or all over you…

Gabrielle nodded demurely, feeling strangely outside herself. Feeling like Suzanne, who probably got fucked up the ass every night and wasn’t ashamed in the least. What had become of that girl? Maybe Mme de Villeneuve was right and Suzanne didn’t exist outside Gabrielle’s split psyche. Maybe she’d been two people all her life and never realized it until now. Was that possible?

Anything’s possible…

“Shall I continue?” Madame asked.

Closing her eyes, Gabrielle nodded.

She expected Madame to insert something bigger into her ass, but the opposite happened. Madame extracted her thumb and spent an unconscionable amount of time rubbing circles around Gabrielle’s puckered rim. She wished beyond reason her hands were untied. That way she could stroke her clit. Maybe Madame would do it, but she had no way of asking.

Turning her head until her neck howled with the strain, Gabrielle watched dull light bouncing off Madame’s shiny black outfit. Everything she’d seen the woman wearing up until now had been so old-fashioned. Where would she have gotten such a fitted piece of fetish attire?

“How do you like that, my pet?”

Gabrielle gurgled while Madame circled a thumb round and round her ass.

“Are you ready to be fingered?”

Gabrielle made a sound she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t a word, just the sound of worry, the sound of insecurity, the sound of willing fear.

“Very well.”

Gabrielle couldn’t tell whether that meant, “Very well, then I won’t proceed,” or, “Very well, then I will.”

When Madame plunged two fingers into her ass, she clenched around them and Madame laughed. She could feel the power that woman exerted over her in the way Madame held the reins with force and security. In a sense, she wished she could be more like her captor. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to exude such confidence? Wouldn’t it be wild to strike fear into every heart simply by walking into the room?

Madame launched her fingers deeper inside Gabrielle’s ass. What was she doing in there? Opening her fingers and stretching Gabrielle’s ass ring in the process. That felt so weird, like she might accidentally shit herself. Oh god, make it stop!

Then Madame added a third finger and Gabrielle didn’t know what to do. She kicked and bucked wildly.

“Calm yourself!” Madame brought down punishment in the lick of her riding crop. “Behave.”

Gabrielle screamed at the unexpected strike. She chewed on the bit for relief, the way soldiers in the olden days chewed on rags while field surgeons amputated their legs. She could take comfort in knowing Madame probably wouldn’t remove any of her limbs. By comparison, being struck by a riding crop wasn’t such a big deal.

That’s what she thought… until Madame dealt a fiercer blow.

The pain defied belief. She felt like a bolt of lightning had fallen from the sky to slap her ass. Shrieking, Gabrielle wiggled and writhed. Her swinging breasts whacked a hay bale, and when her nipples got jabbed she could have gnawed the bit in half. As much as it hurt, she wanted more. She couldn’t convince herself to stop heaving her breasts against the hay or kicking to incur Mme de Villeneuve’s wrath.

All at once, peace descended. Madame’s fingers slipped from her ass. Lubricant dripped down her crack. When she felt a new sensation, she paused to take it in. She didn’t realize what it was, at first, though it should have been perfectly obvious. The dull bigness pried her cheeks apart and prodded her hole. She tensed. It scared her.

Stroking her rump, Madame said, “Relax for me, Suzanne. Let me in.”

Leaning forward, Mme de Villeneuve grabbed Gabrielle’s breast. When Madame flicked her nipple, her ass opened like magic. She groaned to express discomfort, but also want and fear and desire. That groan went on and on as Mme de Villeneuve pushed the fake cock into Gabrielle’s rear.

When she stretched her fingers, she could almost feel the slick latex of Madame’s cat suit. She tried to touch it as the weird woman asked, “How do you like that, my child? Does Madame do your ass justice? Does she treat you as you ought to be treated?”

Thank goodness Gabrielle couldn’t answer those questions, because she’d only get herself in trouble.

“If only I could fill you with my own skin.” The intensity of Madame’s thrusts increased with the violence of her voice. “If I could grow a cock by snapping my fingers, I’d fuck you until you wept.”

When Madame’s voice cracked, the spell was broken. Fear replaced desire. She didn’t seem in control of her senses anymore, and that scared Gabrielle so much she started formulating an escape plan.

“What’s wrong, Suzanne? You’ve tightened your ass so much I can hardly move.”

Gabrielle’s throat made a whimpering noise that must have given away her mental state, because Madame cracked the crop across her ass.

“You were told to relax, Suzanne. Relax your ass or I will punish you again!”

“Aye ah uuhahh!”

I’m not Suzanne!

“Very well, my child.” The leather tongue licked Gabrielle’s ass cheek like a demon, sending a cruel blaze across her skin, making her scream. “You girls, you girls!”

Gabrielle whimpered and cried, choking on the tears trapped at the back of her throat.

“You pretty little girls have no idea the attention you attract.” Madame filled her, fucked her, pummelled her ass and smacked it simultaneously. “The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you flirt without seeming to notice, without seeming to care the desire you arouse. Enfant terrible. You bring out the beast in me, Suzanne.”

“Aye ah uuhahh!”

I’m not Suzanne! If only Madame could hear her. If only Madame understood.

Her ass blaze. The harder she clenched, the fuller she felt. Who would willingly subject themselves to a torture like this? To think, only moments ago Gabrielle had tasted the sweet anticipation of a sordid new experience. To think she’d identified with her captor! The thought made her so sick she nearly retched.

Madame dealt her another blow that burned her flesh. “You beg to be fucked and you don’t even notice.” The riding crop slid down the side of her ass and Gabrielle nearly breathed a sigh of relief… but then the cruel crop rose up between her legs. It caught her clit like a bolt of lightning, and for a brief moment Gabrielle truly believed she was about to die.

“It’s your fault, Suzanne. It’s your fault I cannot function. It’s your fault I cannot control my impulses. I must have you. I must make you mine.”

Gabrielle shook her head wildly. She had no idea what was coming next, but it scared her to tears. Her heart jumped erratically, like it was trying to escape her chest. Her ribs ached from sobbing. Her jaw ached from the bit. Her body burned, her skin blazed, and she cursed Mme de Villeneuve with every fibre of her being.

“Tell me you are mine.”

Dropping the crop, Madame struggled with the buckles that kept the harness on Gabrielle’s head. She pulled it off, releasing Gabrielle from the bit, and then pulled out of her ass so swiftly Gabrielle was left with nothing but pain.

“Tell me, Suzanne.”

Madame gripped her tight, and her sweating skin stuck strangely to the latex body suit. The big blue dildo wedged between her pussy lips. She somehow ended up straddling it the way a witch would straddle a broomstick.

“Stay with me. Tell me you are mine. I reject my role as your therapist. My heart holds your heart inside it and I know you feel the same way about me.”

Gabrielle’s entire body began to shake. Her muscles had a mind of their own, and all they could do was rattle inside her skin. She couldn’t close her mouth. It hung open as she shook her head wildly. Her neck seemed to be the only part of her body that would function the way she wanted it to.

No! No! No! No! No!

As her body trembled, it rode Mme de Villeneuve’s dildo, smashing wildly against the latex cat suit. Her whole body went into spasm. An orgasm shot through her like a star, leaving nothing behind but a blazing burnt-out scar.

Madame grasped Gabrielle’s bound-up arms, pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her lips. Gabrielle would carry that kiss on her tongue for the rest of her life, like an aftertaste of shame and repulsion. She tried to wriggle away, but her body was too lost in its insidious climax. God help her, she returned Madame’s terrible kiss. She surrendered her tongue to her captor and participated to the fullest extent. Why was she doing it? Why didn’t she back away? She hated herself for that kiss. She hated herself for everything.

When Madame broke away, it was to say, “I knew you loved me, Suzanne. I knew you would be mine.”

Gabrielle couldn’t speak. She couldn’t stop shaking. But her eyes could cry, and they wept a flurry of tears. She couldn’t bear the weight of existence much longer. When she collapsed to her knees and her swollen pussy met the prickle of straw, she bowed her head and hoped for death.