Spending her time staring at herself thinking about her future, Mina looked across the ceiling towards the door as it opened, and watched the reflection of Atlas enter the room and walk towards her.
Dressed in a white robe, he immediately cast the garment off, revealing himself naked before her, only his ring of nobility remaining. Without delay he climbed onto the bed, his penis rigid with lust, the indentations in the mattress made by his approach rocking Mina’s torso back and forth gently. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, exciting himself all the more. Moving upward, he propped himself up on his hands and looked down into her gagged face, smiling with pleasure at seeing her bound thus. Then he lowered himself slightly, flexing his powerful biceps to begin raining kisses down on her throat, letting the soft pecks descend between her breasts as she shuddered and moaned in rapture.
‘You are an exceptional specimen, slave,’ he said. ‘Pity it is too dangerous for me to keep you around. Perhaps once the furore about you has died down, I’ll buy you back off of Hephaestus.’ He reached down between her legs, and his fingers and thumb began massaging her sex, making the satin glide against her.
Mina locked her thighs together against his grip, her arms tensing as she arched against her bondage, moaning softly around her gag.
‘I’m sure Hephaestus will conjure something truly wicked for a body as luscious as this,’ he commented, reaching beneath her so his hand could roughly handle her bruised bottom. Rather than punish her again, he merely exploited the remnants of her last chastisement.
Mina gurgled and gasped beneath his touch, her bruises rising along with the pleasure in her pussy as he stroked the most tender and receptive areas of her body.
‘The sponsor for your abduction wanted you to suffer, but I think they seriously misjudged you. I think they thought you resentful of slavery and believed you hated the vices we enjoy here, but I can see now that you are as enamoured with them as any slave girl I have ever seen. Having you tormented rigorously would not be a punishment for you, it would be a blessing,’ he concluded as Mina continued to ride her buttocks against his hand, her fingers pawing at the metal pole keeping her pinned down and defenceless before him.
‘The only way to make you suffer would be to deprive you of punishment,’ Atlas went on pensively, ‘and even that frustration would probably be a delight to you. You are a rare prize indeed, Mina, possessed of stamina, beauty, intelligence, and hidden secrets to tantalise. Whatever you were before coming here, it has made you wonderfully appreciative of every new sensation we care to subject you to.’ His other hand rose from her bottom and slipped beneath her bra, leaving the material stretched across the back of his hand as he cupped her breasts, his fingers delicately playing with her nipples.
She sighed contentedly, her chest rising and falling with her deepening breaths, the pull of the bra drawing him tighter to her as she inhaled the room’s scented air.
‘You are like a bottomless pit of debauchery, Mina. No matter what we might do to you, no matter how we train you, abuse you, pleasure you and confine you, you would still leap back hungry for more... no, more like ravenous for more.’ He squeezed her nipples to make her jaws stretch wider against the gag. Moans poured from her throat as she sank back into the sheets, her legs sliding against the sensuous material, the soft rustle of the fabric underlying his words.
Closing his hand to the front of her thong, a stern yank caused the flimsy fabric to tear and part between her bottom cheeks, tugging her into the air a little as he pulled it off her, the sharp sensation making her release a soft squeak of pleasure at being so roughly handled. Staring at him with a burning lust, she watched as his hands took the bra cups and ripped them aside, making her chew on the gag in anticipation. For a brief moment he handled her exposed bosom, caressing it before lifting himself up and guiding himself into her sex. The tip of his penis slipped through the valley of her labia, kissing her clitoris and making her shake. But he did not penetrate her fully, merely loitered, teasing her, stroking her and promising something he was not granting. The motive was painted plainly on his wicked smile as Mina whimpered and tried to force herself lower so she could sheath herself on him. But with her arms bound she could not move and could only squirm and wriggle beneath him.
Finally, with a swift thrust, she was impaled, his length riding fully into her, opening her up and making her bite into the gag from the strain of enduring the initial rapture of being completely filled. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he rested himself against her, his weight pushing her against the metal pole. With steady rocking motions he withdrew almost to the point of exit before diving back into her, repeating his drives again and again while Mina moaned with ecstasy, lines of saliva escaping from the corners of her mouth as the Titan made love to her. Losing herself to the sensations of their coitus, she closed her eyes and rode her pleasure, feeling orgasm beckoning and blossoming inside her, inexorably fed by every stab of the noble man’s organ.
Her moans began to increase in speed, her breaths rising to gasps as he started accelerating his pace, eager to feel climax. His length swelled and became a more distinct presence within her, causing her legs to shudder as he broke into tight spasms. The feel of his ejaculation, and the sight of him flexed and growling with lust and bliss, brought Mina over the final edge, plunging her into her own devastating release. Choking her screams on the gag she made the leather straps groan at having to contain her as she pushed them to the very limits in the throes of her ecstasy. Her body arched up, lifting the Titan with her as his chaotic drives continued dragging out the event for both of them. Then the zenith of their pleasure began to ebb, and as though leeched of vitality by their responses, both of them sagged against the sheets and went limp, breathing raggedly, their eyes closing as the heat of their exertion drifted from their bodies.
The Titan stayed with her a while, resting his weight upon her and holding her in his arms. She groaned as he withdrew, and exhausted by her oral tuition, her sessions of correction, and this recent lovemaking, she closed her eyes against the soft bank of slumber rising through the back of her mind and let herself drift into it, the leather straps soothing her passage rather than hampering it.
The tinkling chime of buckles being manipulated roused Mina from her sleep, her mind lazy from an overlong period of rest. The straps had been on her so long now that she did not even feel them any more, until they were removed one by one, her skin almost shocked by the loss of such a long companion.
Opening her eyes a little, she accustomed them to the light and let her blurred vision gather some sense of clarity. She found Celaeno and Sterope removing her bonds, the tallest and the smallest of Atlas’s Pleiades working under his supervision. Dressed in billowing leather trousers that dropped from a silver sash into his tall boots, the Titan watched with his hands on his hips, from which dangled a leash ready to be snapped on her collar. Studded leather bracers covered his forearms, entering fingerless leather gloves, the backs of which were marked with the globe symbol of his mythological identity.
When the belt across her head and body was removed, Mina slid down onto the sheets, scowling with discomfort, the duration of her confinement having left her physique highly displeased with any other position. Soft crunching sounds emerged from her neck and back as she moved them, her arms were weak, and she was barely able to slide her body against the soft sheet. Rubbing her biceps as best she could, she rotated her head, exercising the stiff flesh. The muscles she had pulled during her long period of fellatio seemed to have petrified during her sleep and it hurt to use them now. The gag was unbuckled and pulled out from between her lips, letting her sore jaw finally close, joining the rest of her upper body in trying to remember how to move and operate without flashes of discomfort.
Atlas moved in and snapped the clip of his leash to the front of her collar, using it as a reign to demand her exit from the bed. Sliding her stockings against the satin sheet, Mina put her feet to the floor and rose onto unsteady legs. Sterope promptly took her arms and brought them behind her back as she was trying to steady herself, locking Mina’s wrists together with silver handcuffs. The clatter of metal teeth from the shackles signalled their implementation, and Atlas immediately began towing her along behind him, her feet shuffling as they gathered strength once more. Mina could not recall a time when she had been this stiff, her body so pushed beyond its ordinary parameters. Keeping quiet as she trailed behind the noble, she watched the flex and play of his muscles as he strode forth, the shimmer of light upon his leather attire drawing her fetishist fascination.
Escorted into the main chamber once more, Mina found herself facing a set of stocks that had been placed in the centre of the room - a stage she was clearly about to be served up on. The pillory was comprised of dense and varnished wood, the midnight timbers designed to hold a slave in a stoop with leather-padded apertures. The support struts reached down to a platform with a second set of slats to capture ankles a short way back, the purpose of the device being to bend a slave over, part her legs and hold her there, her bottom exposed to any mode of usage. Around the shimmering boards brazen banding had been riveted into place, giving the whole ensemble an even more fortified and intimidating air.
Drawing her over to the device, Atlas leant down and threw the bolt on the floor, opening the slat so she might put her feet in. Mina immediately stepped in without being told to do so, ready and willing to surrender herself to his ministrations. There was no need to speak; she was ready to obey and there was no need for something as superfluous as words. When she was with Tethys and Oceanus she was part of their relationship and could contribute with words and comments, but here such things were irrelevant. She was a captive, a prisoner, and she was more than eager to explore such a role to its entirety.
When the thick plank was closed, the soft leather interior pressed against her ankles, grabbing them firmly and spreading her legs wide, as the pillory demanded. Lifting the headboard Atlas offered her the interior slots, and placing her wrists into the soft grooves, Mina then draped her head into place, her collar and joints engulfed by the padding and bending her forward so her breasts hung from her torso.
As she expected, a gag was brought up to her lips, the soft foam ball being pushed between them, filling her mouth before a strip of tape was used to lock her lips together and prevent her spitting out the stifling device.
Atlas pointed to a stool and a chest, causing a shuffle of leather limbs as his slaves brought them over to him and set them before Mina’s naked bottom. The Titan then seated himself, and Mina could do nothing save listen as the lid was opened and the contents searched.
She heard a thrumming whirr of oscillating movement behind her, and a magic wand brushed its rounded head against her sex. Straining her buttocks upwards she snorted and gasped, her thighs trembling as she rode the vibrating toy. The shuddering kisses being hurled into her pudenda had her melting against her bondage, her limbs pulling at the stalwart pillory, the leather squeaking softly against her skin. In Atlas’s hand the implement began moving lower, losing height and forcing Mina to follow it if she wanted to continue feeling its delightful caresses.
‘Come on, you can keep yourself on it if you really want to,’ he said, chuckling.
Mina smiled at his malicious intentions, her neck aching from exertion as she tried to drag herself low enough, her trapped extremities unable to follow the toy. As it came away she was left starved of the pleasure and with her body suddenly fighting the stocks, trying to free herself from the intense frustration.
‘No, too late, you’ll just have to taste something else instead, slave.’
She heard the subtle sound of displaced air behind her, and a leather paddle sounded against her left buttock, the oval covering a large area with a sudden hot flash of discomfort.
‘How is that?’ Atlas enquired as she shouted against her gag. Quivering from the stern impact the welts of her earlier whipping revived a little, adding significantly to the warm sensation spreading through her tender cheek. Lifting her buttocks as high as she could, she used body language to show him her reaction and to petition another blow. ‘Oh, so you want more, do you?’ He sounded amused. ‘Well, we’ll see how much it takes to slake your thirst for the paddle.’ He decided not to resist the temptation of her bottom wriggling enticingly before him, covered with welts he himself had contributed to. The paddle landed on her other cheek and then stung the previous one again, elevating the level of distress in her throbbing skin. ‘That’s it, slave, dance for me, dance for your owner. If you perform well I might reward you again with the wand,’ he promised, and added another stroke to his tally.
Mina jerked against the pillory, torn by pain and pleasure. Then in the startled moment of her endurance, where the effects of the paddle were at their most virulent, Atlas fulfilled his promise and slipped the wand back between her parted legs, lifting her against the engine of restraint.
‘That’s enough,’ he said after a moment, ‘we wouldn’t want to burn you out, would we?’ He gave her a few more paltry moments of pleasure before removing the instrument. ‘Not while we still have so much more to do,’ he muttered, and began afflicting her with a swift barrage of claps. The paddle dropped across her cheeks, striking the sides and the summits, setting the purple lines left by the crop against a deep red background. ‘Come on, slave, you can sing louder than that!’ he demanded, dropping the chastising bat to her again and again, imparting flashes of fulgent sensation, each one adding to the previous store of agony to make her body spasm and her voice wail against the gag.
Finally the stinging impacts ceased and the wand returned, teasing her some more, turning her agony into ecstasy and addicting her to the lambasting hand of her tormentor.
‘There, that’s a good slave. A little reward, and we’ll get back to tanning this delightful ass.’ Atlas chuckled again, rubbing the shaking head of the toy against her labia, spreading its pleasure up into her womb. Then, with a heavy-handed swat, he slammed the paddle’s leather surface against her upper thigh, making Mina cry out against her gag, tears shimmering in her eyes as her sex grew even more moist with consuming desire. She dropped against the stocks, wilting as her legs shook, trying to weather this latest storm of sensations.
‘No, up we get,’ he ordered, the brush of the wand between her thighs lifting her back upright, her knees straightening out, her toes and fingers wiggling as she groaned and panted through her nose, her teeth biting into the foam ball. A squeal seeped through the gag’s barrier as another broad stroke of the paddle swung around and caught her bottom before swinging back to attack from the other side. ‘I think you’re ready for something new, slave,’ Atlas decreed at last.
Mina trembled, lines of salty tears running down her cheeks and over the tape responsible for gagging her, as the wand stopped its mechanical growl and fell silent, leaving her hanging in the air, a trickle of moisture escaping her pussy and slipping down her inner thigh.
The snap of a surgical glove echoed through the room, and she felt cool gel coating rubber-sheathed fingers. The lubricant was worked into her anus, two fingers slipping through her sphincter to ride the chill substance in and out of her, readying her for some method of penetration. The excitement at not being able to see what was coming was coupled with fright at what he intended, the stocks a wonderful means to keep her in giddy suspense.
‘Are we ready, slave?’ he asked, continuing to drift his fingers in and out of her in a mockery of intercourse.
Mina nodded as best she could against the stocks, murmuring her affirmation, the feel of him sliding his digits in and out of her tempting her into accepting anything he cared to give her.
‘As you wish, slave - here it comes,’ he muttered, taking up some new instrument from the small trunk. ‘First, we need to loosen you up a little. I won’t have a tight hole resisting me.’ The bulbous head of a large jelly dildo was applied to her small opening. It was a familiar sensation, and Mina wondered what the new deed would be as the Titan worked the helmet into her, educating her sphincter and reminding it of all its former penetrations.
Shuddering against the feel of the soft trespasser tentatively exploring her anus, Mina suddenly threw herself into a rigid pose, her every muscle and tendon stiffening to attention, her fingers twisting into claws of shock. Convinced she was ready, the intruder had bolted forward, riding into her, revealing that just past the ordinary summit of the toy was a shaft of deep plunging ribs. The round peaks and troughs rode her muscular ring upon them, making her screech against her gag, the sensation not unlike the one imparted by the use of anal balls. He nudged her deepest regions, inflicting a spike of woe before hauling the dildo back out, bouncing her orifice upon its smoothly serrated back, jolting her anus and making her livid with exquisite sensations.
‘That’s it, slave, feel that big rod filling you! Swallow it all the way. You can take it, you know you can.’ He drove it back in, dancing the toy in and out of her with relentless shoves and pulls.
Crying out from the sheer bizarre pleasure of the experience, she swayed and writhed against the pillory, her mind reeling.
‘Come on, you can yell louder than that.’ The Titan thrust his toy inside her, repeating the deed again and again, and ravishment by a ribbed jelly phallus was an ordeal she could hardly stand the pleasure was so intense. Dragging it from side to side he applied the device more forcefully, increasing his rate, turning Mina into a quaking wreck. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her sight blurring from the intensely excruciating joy. ‘You make a luscious sight, slave. This must be quite an experience for you, and there’s still so much more of it left for you to devour.’ The paddle swung up between her legs, applying itself to her inner thigh.
Wailing into the gag, Mina struggled and fought to evade his new assault upon her, the sharp explosions of effulgent heat in her thighs more than she could take. But Atlas used his toy to keep her in place, the shaft possessing just enough rigidity that he could use it as an inserted lever by which to hold her up. When the smacks of the paddle caused her to buck more than he could control, he rammed the rod deep, forcing it to her limits, driving her bottom forward so that she could not sag as he applied the paddle with alacrity.
Eventually the Titan wrenched the dildo out of her sphincter. ‘I think it would do us all good to play to some music, and I think it only fitting that the star of our show provide it for us,’ he said, making Mina worry about what he meant.
A sudden compression locked to each of her teats, the clamps taking hold and hanging lifelessly beneath her, her nipples stretched by the weights upon them. She groaned and shook, her rabid breaths swinging the weights - a collection of small bells that chimed merrily. Her struggle made them pull on her nipples all the more, the clamps hauling at her breasts as more of the accursed devices were installed, the noble clipping them all over the surface of her assets.
‘Not bad,’ he remarked, ‘but it’s a little bland. I think you need much more in the way of backing.’ He chuckled as Mina mewled against her gag, openly soliciting clemency even though she secretly ached for more while simultaneously reviling what had already been done to her.
More bell-armed clamps were attached to her breasts, a starburst of fierce pinches that had her straining to gather enough breath through her nose to protest in heartfelt moans, the applications seeming to swallow up her air, stealing what she required to express her distress as she endured their terrible bites.
‘There, that’s better, but I think a full orchestra would better sing your departure from my domain, slave. What do you think?’ He listened to her cries of angst as he stroked her belly with the padded jaws of more clamps, tracing them threateningly against her skin.
Moaning in abject distress and rapture, Mina felt more clamps grab her hips, hanging from her skin as her miserable shivers were transformed into merry metallic songs, the chimes seeping into her ears even over her hissing breaths and smothered yowls. Then even more jaws grabbed her inner thighs, and the last of them took hold of her vulva, these being the worst to bear, her response to their application making every bell jingle more loudly than before.
‘A nice melody, but we need a master conductor to make them all perform at their finest, don’t we, slave?’
Mina’s eyes bulged with horror when she felt the cold back of a clamp brushing her roused clitoris. She tried to beg him not to do this, not to scorch her with the worst of the clamps, but he merely listened to her garbled distress with a savouring silence, continuing to tease her sex with the last implement. Then the jaws opened and grabbed the morsel of flesh before being released, and she broke into fits of panic, the shock of having to carry so many harrowing holds making her insides churn with woe. She wailed against her gag as the pain was again manipulated by the Titan, his restoring of the ribbed jelly into her anus making her shake and battle the twin storms of utter duress and wonderful bliss. The tune of the bells answered her every buck and spasm, her body controlled by random twitches and wriggles, her mastery over it usurped by the overwhelming presence of the clamps and the driving thrusts of the dildo. Against all reason she could feel a climax beckoning in the distance, gathering like a storm on the horizon. How could she orgasm in such terrible woe? Had she been educated to such an extent that even though she hated this pain it was titillating some hidden recesses of her being, harnessing a licentious need, which only a short time ago had been in its infancy?
The wand broke her indecision as it brushed against her sex. Her tortured clitoris vibrated at a fever pitch, and the drum roll of shuddering attention dissolved her upon it. Torn by so many stark sensations, she was delivered mercilessly up to a peak of pleasure, the bliss swarming with clouds of razor-edged angst. Screeching against her gag, Mina felt herself rising to the summits of ecstasy, and at that very moment Atlas released the clamps on her clit and her vulva, dropping them away and forcing the dildo deep inside her. The shattering flush of feeling back into the squeezed tissues made her mind snap like overextended elastic, her body jerking into a twisted, straining pose that made the pillory bend and creak as it sought to accommodate the wild throes of her response. Her climax was charged with the most terrible and venomous intensity, the suffering magnifying it infinitely and throwing her above any plateau of bliss she had ever experienced. And then the sudden extraction of the jelly as Atlas pulled it out of her flung her still further upwards, her eyes rolling back and her lips breaking free of the tape as they defeated the adhesive strip, the foam ball spilling from her lips as a soul-torn, inhuman howl filled the room. And then a black fog spilled through her senses without warning, consuming them as her body sought to protect itself from the overload of sensation and plunged her into a dead faint.
Floating up through the smothering blanket of her swoon, Mina’s mind conjured up a daydream of rising up through ocean depths. The whirling watery vortex of Charybdis had sucked a vacant, barren shell of a woman down into the abysmal trench of his domain, and now, as a dazzling angel of depravity, she was rising back towards the surface. Erupting out of the sea she flung her arms wide, her body glowing with the incandescent fury of the sun, the water sizzling as lines of steam trailed from her ascending form and fell away to form clouds around her as she continued flying ever higher and higher...
With a sudden spluttering series of coughs, Mina jerked awake and found her apathetic form lying in the arms of Atlas. The Titan cradled her against him where she lay curled up on his lap with his arms about her, soothing her as she slowly came to.
‘There, slave, it’s all right, you’re fine, you just passed out from the shock, that’s all,’ he said softly, his tone caring.
‘I - I’m sorry, master,’ she managed to croak. She felt embarrassed that her body had given out and denied him, and she was even more vexed she had collapsed. Fainting always seemed like some weak feminine act.
‘Sorry for what, sweet slave?’ he asked with a bemused frown.
‘I don’t know what happened, I was, I...’ she began, unsure of what to say to try and repair the damage to her pride.
‘Don’t be foolish, slave. Lack of decent regular sleep and food were responsible for your passing out. I was going to ensure you got a hearty meal after our session, but watching you cavort against the stocks, I just couldn’t help myself. Oversight and overindulgence prompted your collapse, slave, nothing else. Here.’ He indicated a tray before her, the plates upon it offering a variety of meats, vegetables and fruits.
Mina tried to turn her mind towards food, but she was too overwhelmed recalling her ordeal, and the sheer indescribable ecstasy she had been completely enveloped by. It had been an almost spiritual event. She had tasted a decadent god in those moments, felt his power course through her, converting her even more fully to a dark hedonistic faith.
Glancing about the room she found only Celaeno and Merope were recognisable where they stood on either side of a black trunk. Standing behind them were four robed figures, the women adorned with a leather version of the same uniform Mina had first seen them encased in what felt like an eternity ago. Clearly, she was going to be fed and then dressed to join them for her voyage down to Hephaestus.
Her heart leapt and filled with emotion as she thought of Oceanus and Tethys, her memories of them distinct and wonderful. How she ached to go back to them, to escape and flee into their arms and never leave them again. She had tasted deeply of Atlas’s passions, and though they had been a tremendous and enlightening experience, they were no match for the deep love of the couple she adored and who nurtured her so effectively. Her main source of regret about leaving here so soon was that she would be deserting Maia. She would have liked to spend more time with the woman, and she consoled herself with the thought that Maia wielded some sort of authority and might be able to arrange a meeting between them at some future date.
Beset by a plethora of feelings and obligations to her new creed of experience, Mina shuffled forward and began to help herself to some food. Her mind was the most ravenous part of her, desperate to quaff every piece of perverse fare it caught the scent of and sink its fangs into it. This hunger had replaced the more mundane physical variety as her physique craved more and more punishment, sex, and bondage, and could not be bothered with anything as trivial as sustenance. Nevertheless, each mouthful was a delight that melted on her palate, making her moan with pleasure as she helped herself, having forgotten how good food could taste.
‘You see, there are other physical delights for the Epicurean soul, nymph,’ Atlas commented with a smile, and leaned back to watch her find new contentment and satisfaction from the meal he had offered her.
Mina heard the words but was too busy enjoying her feast to really process them. But once she had pushed her stomach to capacity and could find no more room, she was forced to abandon her appetite. If she could have she would have finished all the food, but now she was bloated and even more immobilised. She knew it was probably a bad idea to be such a glutton when faced with new bondage, but she did not know when she would be eating again. Besides, the meal had been splendid, and to her starved palette, as well as to her new crusade to find pleasure everywhere, had been a marvel to her.
Looking towards her awaiting outfitters and the wall of robed Pleiades, she glanced back at Atlas over her shoulder. The Titan patted the cushions beside him in beckoning, and with a spry scamper, she turned and curled up beside him, lying down and letting the laziness of her long sleep lull her into a soft slumber as she digested the feast he had offered her.
‘Celaeno, Merope, perform for me,’ Atlas requested absently.
The two diminutive women stepped forward into the middle of the room and fell into each other’s arms, their bodies entwining, their lips taking up flesh and sucking and kissing, applying small nips to make each other stiffen and groan. Sinking to their knees, their leather-clad digits began caressing and fondling, serving up breasts to their partner’s mouth. They spent little time in idle enjoyment, constantly changing their position to keep their master amused. Mina glanced at them on occasion, the sounds of soft moans and slick bodies writhing against each other attracting her attention. Atlas watched with half-hearted intensity, occupying his mind and eyes as Mina rested. Again and again the girls brought each other to orgasm, their long display of lesbian lust letting Mina digest her meal to a decent and safe degree.
‘That will do,’ Atlas stated. ‘Now proceed with shipping this nymph out of here.’ He interrupted their show and the two girls promptly walked over to grab Mina by the arms and take her with them. They removed her stockings and suspender belts so she stood naked except for her collar, facing Atlas so he might study her countenance as she was entombed in his leather restrictions.
Tight leather opera gloves were placed on her hands, the material lined with a stretchy interior of dense latex to ensure a good grip against her skin and to make the vestments even more uncomfortable. The women drew them up her arms, forcing her hands into the fingerless mittens at the end before using three buckles at the top to tighten them about her upper arms. Then Celaeno supported her while Merope drew a stocking up each of her legs, the three buckled straps of the latex-lined leather hose fastening firmly to her upper thighs. Knee-high patent boots were set over the tight sheathes, the women setting her in the heels and then lacing them to her calves, the top of the boots fitted with a wide strap that accepted two small padlocks which made them utterly immovable.
A corset was her next garment, the stringent hourglass shape formed by steel-boned leather, the dense hide treated on the inside with the same smothering latex shell. Buckles on either side dangled unused, ready to accept some mode of crotch band, while suspenders hung from the lower hem. Both sides were laced, so once she had stepped into it, Mina had Celaeno in front of her with Merope behind her as both women worked in unison to draw the clamping jaws of the garment closed. Once it was in place they began the process of tightening it, drawing the sides ever closer together, stealing away more and more of her waist and compressing her ribs, making her sigh with delectation at the feel of being crushed into servitude.
Being laced into a corset was a wonderful experience for Mina, the continual thinning of her body under its irresistible influence, the impossible tightness upon her chest as her breasts were squeezed into the moulded cups. Her legs became weak experiencing the complete ferocity of the cocoon, making her glad she had been allowed time to digest her full belly of food. The wide suspenders that dropped from the hem of the corset snagged her stockings, further helping support them as the mysterious crotch strap was taken up, the leather strip being first buckled to the back of the corset. Her legs were parted a little and the strap brought between them, revealing by the brush against her naked inner thighs the embellishment of two squat plugs upon it. The slick toys were steered into her and driven up by the tightening of the crotch strap to the front of her corset. Mina moaned and rose to her toes, her heels wiggling in the air like conductor’s batons as she accustomed herself to the renewed presence of intruders. Opened by the toys, she settled down as the front of the strap was buckled into place, pressing the strip and the plugs even more forcefully into her. Her thighs shook a little as she shifted her loins, manoeuvring herself upon the stubby trespassers, her tracts clenching around them. She strained a little to try and see if she could play them, but the tightness of the band prevented her from ejecting them even the slightest degree.
Thick leather trammels were set upon her ankles and wrists. Twin buckles crossed their opening to seal them to her, and a pair of D-rings between them accepted a padlock to impose added security.
A short hobble chain about a foot in length was snapped to her fetters, and her wrists were brought before her and locked together with a stout padlock.
A second set of cuffs were locked just above her elbows, and by pulling away, the women dragged Mina’s wrists against her corseted belly. Hauling back they made sure her hands could not move, and then they tied her elbow restraints together, pulling the rope connection to thrumming tension.
Unable to move her arms in the slightest as they were contorted against her compressed body, Mina was forced down onto her knees, moving with stiff awkwardness. The corset refused to bend, turning her spine into a rigid pole. The use of her body was being eaten away with every passing second, and there was nothing she could, or even wanted to do, about it.
A thick leather faceplate appeared, the slightly padded latex interior pressing so tightly across her mouth that it created a near hermetic seal. The twin oval bulbs on the inside were threaded over her lips and into her mouth, leaving her teeth biting the rubber-padded nozzles that went through the plate and emerged from the other side to be armed with inflator bulbs. The thick chinstrap was tied into place, and the two belts that emerged from the sides traversed her crown and the back of her head and were tightened with firm yanks. The faceplate pressed against her skin, and the two straps that rose on either side of her nostrils were taken up and lifted across her head. The two intersected at the bridge of her nose, travelled her head in a high loop, and connected to the line around the back of her neck. The women ensured that all the straps were squeezing her skull as effectively as they could, and then they closed their small fists around the loitering bulbs.
Mina gave little struggles of protest as the two balloons began to swell between her lips, grinding her tongue into the bottom of her mouth as the orbs continued to grow. Her jaw was spread apart with greater intensity, forcing it against the leather straps as her mouth was continually filled with thick latex. Snorting through her nostrils and keeping calm, she closed her eyes and applied herself to enduring the choking gag, the corners of her jaw already starting to ache from the unusually intense inflation.
A high posture collar was clamped about her throat, the padded interior gripping firmly to her neck as her head was forced up and to attention. Set upon the dense walls of the collar, Mina found she could not nod, shake her head, or move it in any way.
A metal pole was then placed between her legs, the clip at one end snagging the centre of the hobble chain, the other end being locked to the crotch band and totally preventing her from kneeling, wilting, or offering more than a token strain to her chains.
The final and most obvious portion of her attire was taken up and prepared for her. The voluminous folds of leather were slotted over her head, the thick canopy falling into place and adjusted to a more snug fit by the use of concealed straps. The hood hung around her head, the mesh visor concealing her eyes and allowing a dimmed and highly restricted view of the world. After pinching in slightly to meet her collar, the sheets of tanned hide rolled over her shoulders and fell in draping black folds. What appeared to be sleeves existed, but they were an illusion, for her arms were not free to make use of them. Gathering slightly at her waist, the robe fell to her feet, hiding her boots. Other than its creation from leather, the garment made Mina appear almost normal, hiding every part of her bondage from view and leaving not one part of her recognisable, or even identifiable, as a woman.
Her two tailors toyed with the back of the garment for a moment, playing with the robes and making Mina wonder whether they were merely checking the fit or applying something else she could neither see nor feel.
‘She is ready, master,’ Celaeno announced, bowing to him as she stepped back, leaving Mina a bolt upright statue. She was unable to bend her body because of the corset, unable to use her head because of the collar, and unable to fold her legs because of the bar and the hobble chains. Stretched upright, her pussy and anus filled with thick plugs nurturing her submissive relish, she could do nothing save breathe softly through the holes in the hood as the Titan rose and walked around her, examining the final effect.
‘Perfect,’ he decreed, and turned his attention to the other Pleiades. ‘Take her to Hephaestus immediately, and return with the decoy nymph,’ he commanded.
The women moved in with a soft clink of hidden chains, the tempting rustle of leather and the soft groan of latex stretching over their hidden forms.
‘I hope your time here was educational, slave,’ Atlas said, smiling and running his hand down Mina’s hood and over her hidden breasts before turning and leaving the room.
As a wall of black leather spectres, the other Pleiades closed in around her. She felt tugs at her clothing and a sudden yank made the steel pole between her legs move. The manipulation of the pole churned the wide plugs inside her, making them thrash against her sensitive passages. She stiffened and yelled against the gag as through this maltreatment how she could be controlled was graphically explained to her as she was escorted from the room.
Entering the corridors outside Atlas’s quarters, Mina was shown down the passages to an elevator. A latex-gloved hand emerged from the folds of one of the robes around her and summoned it, showing Mina that her companions were not as effectively bound as she was. A merry chime announced the lift’s arrival, and the doors peeled back to reveal an empty interior. As a crowd they shuffled into the waiting car, drawing Mina with them. She was pinned into the corner, two bodies leaning into her, jamming her in place as another one of the Pleiades tugged at her bar. She gurgled with dismay as they spitefully seized this last opportunity to torture her. Her legs kicked against the bar and hobbles, her arms strained against their bonds and the bodies pressing against them, as she let out muffled cries against the smothering gag, unable to do anything to fight the pain.
The doors opened at last and she was led out of the elevator, the interior of her skin-tight prison now hot and sweltering from her battle against the maliciously inflicted discomfort. The Pleiades took her left, drawing her deeper into the labyrinth of passages. Other Titans and nymphs passed them, but paid them scarcely any notice.
Another elevator beckoned, and as the doors opened Mina’s eyes widened with shock to see Oceanus and Tethys lounging against the rear of the conveyance. Dressed in the attire she had first seen them in, they had an arm around each other’s waist. Their black eyes were looking sullenly at the interior walls, and bestowed a brief and uninterested look on the Pleiades before returning to their vacant daydreaming. The couple looked sad and melancholy, and the sight of them looking so depressed made Mina’s heart long to scream and reveal herself.
‘Going up?’ asked Tethys, her voice like spun gold to Mina’s ears.
As the lead Pleiade shook her head silently, Mina launched herself against her bonds, only to have the phalanx of women suddenly converge on her, crushing her to them as they yanked forcefully on her bar. Her traitorous attempts were crippled by pain as they yanked and pulled, the plugs straining against the limits of her tracts, punishing her loins so she howled silently against her gag. The sudden tall presences of what had to be Sterope and Electra effectively hid her from view, and she was punished for her attempted escape as the doors of the elevator slowly closed. She screamed into the gag, her muscles raging to break free as tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the faceplate, a lump in her throat choking her as she tried desperately to gain her owners’ attention.
When the sight of them was lost she was intensely distraught, but the rekindling of her love for them was momentarily forgotten as the Pleiades assailed her with their chastisement, making her cavort and writhe in agony as punishment for her misdemeanour.
When the lift next opened for them, her guardians were supporting Mina, her body wracked with distress from the churning battering of the plugs. Carried into the lift she was again forced against the wall, sobbing softly to herself in dismal apathy. Her heart had leapt like never before to see her masters. Her longing for them had been cloaked by her experiences with Atlas, but now she had seen them again, she knew she had to get back to them, and it was all she could think about.
The doors opened, and she was turned about and led into a region of rough-hewn rock. Metal deck-plates replaced the craggy floor, the artificial path held up and rendered flat and even by small struts, and the heels of the entourage clattered against the steel as they walked across it. The cavernous passages were dimly lit by wall lights, alternating between blue and red bulbs, and the play of shadows cast by the uneven walls and ceiling rendered the rocky corridor a grim and fearful route to traverse. Mina actually felt glad of the reassuring press of bodies around her as she felt her psyche chilling from the malevolent atmosphere deliberately cultivated here.
A junction in the hallway delivered them onto an earthen floor, the ground trodden solid and flat. No sooner had they rounded the corner than Mina jumped with shock as loud barking growls broke the quiet, echoing repeatedly upon themselves to make it seem as though a whole pack of wild dogs was about to pounce on them. To their left was Cerberus, a black human-headed dog, releasing growls and furious barks as she snapped at the Pleiades, straining against her chain leash, the guard dog who constituted the first line of defence in Hades.
The corridor beyond the hound split into three, the subdued lighting revealing that it branched and split up again and again thereafter, forming a confusing maze to befuddle trespassers.
To the right the stone tunnel continued for a way before being sealed by a sheet of fire. The orange and yellow flames roared up to form a dense and impenetrable curtain of energy. Yet one of the Pleiades moved fearlessly over to the wall and grabbed the chain hanging below a large brazen bell. A swift swing rang the clapper against the instrument, sending a deep resonating tone echoing down the corridors. Immediately Cerberus quieted her agitated state and backed into the shadows, watching from within her costume as the Pleiades awaited an emissary from Hephaestus.
The scorching wall of fire started to ebb as it’s fuel was stemmed, causing the flames to descend and finally vanish as a metal bridge slowly emerged from the opposite side, spanning the chasm that was the vent for the firewall. In the impenetrable shadows beyond there was a flicker of movement, and a figure stepping out of the darkness and across the bridge into the dim light. The woman was tall and muscular, her powerful physique emphasising curves and muscles, her ample breasts undiminished by her cultivated brawn and made even more prominent by the leather chest harness running its cross formations over her bosom. There was a slick quality to her skin that was either oil or perspiration caused by proximity to Hephaestus’s furnaces, the sheen catching refractions of light on her tanned skin. Her head was shaved and golden rings hung from her ears and nipples. A band of smooth silver encircled her head, running across her eyes as a visor, the centre marked with a silhouetted eye - the mark of the Cyclops. She wore tight-fitting leather shorts, heavy boots, and a thick, studded waistband bearing several clips and sheaths in which rested various tools and instruments for metal and leather working. At her side hung a fierce bullwhip, the black leather coils gathered into hoops and withering to a red tip.
‘Lord Hephaestus is expecting you,’ the female Cyclops announced in a stern and uncompromising voice. ‘Follow me.’ She turned and began leading them back over the bridge. Once they had crossed the chasm they started moving deeper into the corridors, where Mina began hearing sounds of distress, cries and moans and whimpers that sifted through the air, wordless complaints previously drowned out by the excellent sound barrier of the firewall. With a roar the towering pyre re-ignited, blocking the passage again on some hidden command, its heat soaking into their backs as they travelled ever deeper into the domain of the god of smiths and fire.
Mina’s attention was distracted by the alluring rear view of the Cyclops, whose iron-hard buttocks were straining against her shorts, the leather stretching across her cleft as her powerful form marched forward with bold defiance. Then she started to see where the sounds of dismay were emanating from. Alcoves had been cut into the stone walls, and within them intricate sculptures of metal held their polished arms around entombed slaves. The women were held aloft and seemingly merged with the metal, becoming part of the artistic sculpture, a living component in the expression of Hephaestus’s unyielding will. Tubes entered their jaws and loins, taking care of their bodily needs, the vital hoses melded into the almost organic flow of the eldritch masterpieces. Their eyes scanned the passers-by with desperation, a valued momentary distraction from their supreme bondage. It excited Mina to bear witness to their terrible fate, which appealed to her extreme sense. To be so confined would be unbearably sweet; to surrender to the relentless arms of contorted bondage, deprived of every sensation save what was prescribed for her. She could see the living statues shivering and squirming, for small wires attached themselves through the steel to their bodies, pouring pain or pleasure of varying strength and duration through to their bodies at random intervals.
Other female Cyclops were spotted tending the nymphs who were Hephaestus’s prisoners. Some of them were being transferred to new sites, while others were being prepared for their first taste of absolute entrapment, their bodies fighting the will of the mighty women. With strong limbs the Cyclops bent the considerably more lithe nymphs to their desires, locking them down with dispassionate glee. Slaves sobbed and begged for mercy as the tubes were inserted into them, the food hose being the one that most effectively terminated their protests. The lifeline turned their moans into gags before they were rendered completely silent by the inclusion of the main mouth plate that spread their jaws open and left them wheezing weakly through their nostrils.
Led through several branches of the corridors, the Pleiades finally delivered Mina into a large hall. The ceiling of the throne room was low, barely above that of a normal room, the roof supported by thick pillars, untouched arteries of natural rock. From vents in the wall columns of flame spilled forth, casting an amber radiance through the entire shadowy interior and making the air hot. Flicking shadows danced throughout the rough hall, making the stone seem to shift and almost seem possessed of animation, although the chains randomly dangling from the walls and ceiling as decorations were perfectly still. The engineers responsible for the hall had placed a raised platform towards the end, the circle of stone bearing a wide pillar reaching from floor to ceiling. Into this column had been carved a recess shaped like a large throne adorned with black cushions, and in the wall behind it, a curtain of brass chains caught the light.
A pair of burly Cyclops women flanked the entrance motionless as sentries clasping massive war hammers in their fists, the two-handed weapons of battle armed with heads of steel. Another pair stood on either side of the throne as personal bodyguards to their emperor. Before the throne were two rings in the floor, each releasing a brass chain that connected to the matching collar of a nubile young nymph. The two women crouched naked on the floor, their heads hidden inside black leather hoods with a zip for the mouth and slits for their eyes. And almost concealed by the shadows was Hephaestus himself as he emerged from behind the pillars and ascended to take his imperious seat.
A small though extremely robust man, Hephaestus’s smooth barrel chest was bare, his muscles defined by a complete lack of body fat and a leather chest harness, the straps of which were fitted with a single row of diamond studs. His muscles rippled down his arms, where bronze bracers contained his forearms, the metal sheaths adorned with gems and elegant curving designs. His brown beard was large and bushy, and his spiky hair was trapped beneath a brass crown, the circlet spiked with diamonds and running over his heavy brow, so his dark eyes were hidden within the shadows of a frown. He was dressed in leather trousers and boots, the knees and shins plated with armour, the sections moulded to flow over his contours and also spiked with diamonds, the gems glimmering as they refracted light through their many-faceted hearts. A curled bullwhip lay nuzzled at his side, the brass handle also fitted with diamonds, the weapon swinging with his limping stride, for one of his legs trailed at the knee as though shattered by mishap and healed defectively.
The taciturn Titan slid a hand over the raised head of a slave girl, and the nymph rode her leather-covered head against his palm in seeming adoration. Seating himself in his throne, he leant back into the deep shadows of its interior, only his hands and legs emerging into the solemn light as the rest of him remained swathed in darkness.
‘The Pleiades from Atlas have arrived, lord,’ announced the woman who had escorted them here.
The Pleiades bowed to the Titan, leaving Mina standing upright, unable to copy them because of the imposing bonds in which she had been sealed.
‘Make the exchange,’ he uttered gruffly, his words deep and almost whispered. Either the man was of seriously glum temperament, or he was playing the role of the dark lord of this underground domain to perfection.
One of his guards jabbed the haft of her weapon to the stone floor, ringing out three harsh knocks that brought two more Cyclops women through the chain curtain. Brushing it apart as the metal links sung choruses of bright clattering sounds, they held a new captive between them. It was the girl Mina had entered Charybdis with, the redhead taken by Atlas when she first saw him.
The girl seemed alarmed, her indoctrination to the pleasures of this place obviously not progressing at as swift a pace as Mina’s. She was resisting, resenting her slavery and her treatment here. Atlas’s initial use of her could not have helped her disposition any, for he had tossed her straight into the deep end, so to speak, whereas at least Mina had been blessed with the more gradual caring involvement of Tethys and Oceanus, who almost gently cultivated her fledgling masochism.
The trio of women converged on the visiting group, and Mina was removed from amongst them. She was handed to the Cyclops, and the massive female warriors began their work. Taking hold of her they removed her uniform, stripping her bare using their own tools to instantly pick the padlocks of her prison. Once naked she was forced down onto her knees, and one of the Cyclops women stood guard over her to ensure she remained compliant. There was no use running; the firewall burned away any hope of escape. Mina knew she needed to be more cunning if she was going to find a way out, a lesson she had learned from her first breakout.
The redheaded nymph whimpered softly as she was forced into Mina’s discarded uniform and engulfed in leather and latex. But where Mina had revelled in the experience, the girl was far less accepting and was clearly not enjoying herself, especially when the plugs were forced into her and buckled tightly in place. Once she was engulfed in the robes, and they had been fastened to her, and the control straps drawn free so her pole might be exploited, the decoy for Mina was handed back to the Pleiades. Taking hold of her they bowed, turned, and were led away by the Cyclops who had shown them in.
Mina was left kneeling, the perspiration evoked by her discarded uniform evaporating in the heat of the room. It was an oppressive heat but a welcome one, almost cosy in its intensity since she was naked, but any significant amount of clothing would make it far less enjoyable.
Silence fell as they awaited the words of Hephaestus, the grim tyrant lurking in the darkness looking upon his servants and making them wait for his commands, forcing them to display their obedience to the full.
‘Prepare her as was ordained,’ he said finally.
Strong hands grabbed Mina’s arms and lifted her up, the two women marching her forward so her feet skipped against the stone as she sought to keep up with their bold and uncompromising strides. She was taken through the chain curtain, and found herself in a wide passage with small vents of fire emerging to fill it with heat and light. Heavy vaulted doors were set deep in the walls of this short tunnel, and Mina wondered if they were rooms or cells even as she was pulled into a small stone chamber lit by two lapping tongues of fire from wall scones, the yellow plumes revealing the rough interior, the low ceiling and the bed-sized slab of stone rising at its heart. Each of the four corners was decorated with iron rings, the anchors spilling chains connected to heavy manacles.
Refusing to resist the Cyclops women, Mina let herself be dragged onto the warm stone surface, where they pulled her roughly down into the desired spread-eagle position on her back, stripped her of her lingerie and collar, and applied the bonds. A ring gag was forced into her mouth, the leather-encased circle spreading her jaws wide before being buckled sternly about her head. Then, without a single word, the women turned and departed, locking the door behind them.
Mina wondered if this was some sort of waiting room where she could dread the imposition of yet another uniform to help hide her identity. Calming her mind, she forced herself to concentrate with more detail on her old ways, dredging up the forgotten creed of spy and assassin, readying herself for her new mission - to break free and return to her beloved owners.
Spread wantonly upon what felt like a sacrificial altar, she tugged occasionally at her bonds just to feel her own helplessness and distract herself with the pleasure it gave her. Looking across the ceiling, she could see rings set in the stone ready to accept the burden of slaves and bonds. When the door finally started to creek open after what seemed like hours, she strained her head up to see who it was.
Of average height and slender build, the man was moving into his late forties, perhaps even his early fifties, because his expensive designer suit cheated the more obvious signs of age. The deep red suit possessed a matching tie and was loosely cut to offset his wiry build. He had a soft, clean-shaven face, and his brown hair was swept straight back from his forehead, the sides receding a little to give him the early stages of a widow’s peak. He carried a large leather-bound trunk, and her eyes widened in astonishment at his expression as he looked across at her, his pupils expanding as he drowned his vision with the image of her.
The door swung closed with a resounding boom, leaving Mina alone with this mysterious individual. She looked at him with veiled intensity, trying to ferret out anything she may have missed about him at first glance. He, too, was devouring her with his stare, his arousal at seeing her thus obviously intense, more intense than she would have thought possible for any jaded Titan.
‘Well, here we are at last, Mina, in the flesh for the first time in our long relationship,’ he said quietly.
She stiffened with surprise. His voice, even without the scramblers and distortion of electronic defences, was recognisable to her. He was Jupiter, her employer, the man who had shaped her career; the man who ran Turan, and who was perhaps even Turan himself, if he truly existed. She tried to say his name through the gag, the ring hindering her speech, but it was such an obvious word he could not help but discern it.
‘Yes, it is I. Your face is a wonderful mask of shock. I think it’s the first emotion I’ve ever seen you show,’ he mused, moving in on her and setting down the case. Then he sat down beside her, his legs hanging from the plinth as he propped himself up on one arm and ran the other hand along her body. ‘I’ve wanted you for so long, Mina, ever since you were caught on camera at one of our sister banks accessing a safe deposit box. You were so beautiful, so elegant and fierce, that I became obsessed with you.’ He let his fingers stroll through her cleavage and down to her navel, savouring every pore of her flesh.
‘Turan and Korin are merging at the behest of our backers,’ he went on wistfully as his hand reached to cup one of her breasts. ‘It’s a move to help them cement their power, but I managed to earn myself a little treat in the meantime. Before news of the merger slipped out I had you commissioned to investigate this place, to see you snared in it, to dream of you being broken and trained by its Titans. It was I who commissioned Atlas to take you. Working through Hephaestus, I had him convince Poseidon to approach Atlas. With a view to owning you himself, Poseidon told Atlas of the danger of holding you. I knew he would accept, and send you here.’ Holding her breast, he gently caressed her smooth skin, marvelling at its feel, his eyes rolling back a moment as he gasped with wonder.
‘So many times I watched tapes of you at those martial arts schools, hidden cameras in the showers, in the halls, outside your home. I studied you. I collected every detail of your life. I have a library of Mina, each frame, each line of data, bringing me to this moment, where I could at last have you all to myself for just a few hours.’
Leaning in, like a connoisseur of some fine wine he inhaled the scent of her body, taking deep draughts of her natural perfume while he continued to bolster his banquet with the feel of her flesh. Jupiter’s hands slowly wandered over her, touching that which he had so often fantasised about, his fingertips running in light meandering paths, just barely skimming her skin, tickling the fine hairs of her body. His mouth was slightly agape, his breaths racing as he hovered over her cleavage, staring at her with eyes sparkling a rabid prurience. His lips began to fawn upon her, his kisses showering her breasts and gradually working their way up towards the summit, where he shuddered with delight as he took a nipple in his mouth and began sucking it.
Mina sighed with pleasure, her teats growing stiff from his attention as he moved from one to the other, and then pressed her breasts together, making the journey between the two even shorter. He paused to shrug off his jacket. Throwing it aside he yanked off his tie, ripped open his shirt and flung himself back into position, devouring her nipples with soft groans of utter rapture.
Grinding her teeth against the gag, Mina lost herself to the feel of being attended to so fervently, to the feel of being worshipped by a zealous devotee. The man who ran the corporation, her paymaster and sponsor, the man who had maintained her previous existence, had fixated upon her, and obsessed about her until he finally had the chance to send her into a scenario where he could possess her. But who were these mysterious backers, the ones who could tell global giants what to do and leave them unable to even question their will?
One hand continuing to work her breasts, Jupiter started running his tongue lower, licking in long lines across the smooth plains of her stomach. Tasting her skin, mulling over the flavour of the female he so adored and revered, he began to work his way lower. For a while he shifted his head between her widely parted legs, lapping at her thighs, kissing them, stroking and fondling as her excitement grew more and more heated, her sex tingling with need. She wanted to petition him to hurrying up and enter her, but she held her tongue knowing it was just a matter of time before he could wait no longer and possessed her. His adoring lips moved up her inner thighs, ricocheting from side to side before taking a taste of her labia with a single, long lick. Kneading the taut muscles of her forcibly spread legs, he sank his face into her vulva, suckling at her lips and clitoris, flitting his tongue across it and then rolling the flat of his tongue against the erect nugget.
Mina gave a gasp of pleasure as she felt a finger worming up through her buttocks, squirming and slithering into her anus coated in her juices and his saliva. Armed with these ample lubrications the digit attacked her deliberately clenched sphincter, fighting her resistance and gaining entry. Smothering his features in her pussy he rode the finger in her bottom back and forth, wriggling it from side to side to churn her ring in small circles while his eager tongue continued to pleasure and taste her, the cunnilingus making her head swim with waves of bliss. Jerking herself against the chains, the links rattled across the stone as her flesh slapped against it, her body cavorting as he poured towering spires of rhapsody through her. Unleashing cries through the aperture in the gag she quivered joyously, striving against the bonds that pinned her down across the altar.
The lapping tongue and assailing fingers came away and the man leapt to his feet, slipping off his trousers and underwear. Then he sank to his knees, grabbed his rampant length, and steered himself into her sodden cleft.
The feel of penetration on top of the recent oral ministrations thrust Mina into a fit of ecstasy, her sensitive sex responding with exquisite joy as he slid deep inside her, filling her, and began a slow dilatory shuffle, relishing every second of his intercourse with her. On occasion, he paused to kiss and suck at her breasts, letting his lust slacken, delaying ejaculation, stretching his pleasure out for as long as he possibly could. Again and again he worked himself up towards climax, and then paused before repeating the cycle, keeping Mina with him, her own withdrawal from orgasm holding them locked together in the heat of passionate lovemaking.
Finally, however, he could tolerate denial no longer, the frustration overwhelming the bliss of ravishing the object of his obsession. His rhythm began to quicken, his hips clapping against hers as he sank from root to tip, sheathing himself in full, his legs tightly clenched together, his hands rigid with tension as his upper lip snarled back across his teeth. His eyelids were fluttering, trying to stay open so as to observe her, every blink resented because it deprived him of yet another instant of viewing her in reality. Then his back arched with a jolt as he started to spasm wildly, his body quaking as he injected warmth deep into her belly, and the feel of him climaxing inside her dragged Mina in his wake as she came too, crying out through her gag from the searing pleasure.
Jupiter continued with a few haphazard thrusts, his length slipping back and forth without any force, his strength corrupted by the intensity of his bliss. He sagged slowly against her, remaining inside her, his arms holding her with reverence, his breathing shallow as he recovered.
Mina twitched beneath him on occasion, her vagina gripping him in fits as she remained restrained, the weight of his body upon her a glorious burden. Then with a choked hiss she acknowledged his flight from her womb, her body straining against the chains as she shook from the sudden flash of new response. Jupiter slid from the slab, kneeling on the floor, where he flipped up the latches of his case and raised the lid.
‘I’ve wanted to do so many things to you, sweet Mina, to see you here, bound to my will,’ he muttered, and with the rattle of metal he stood up and stepped onto the plinth again. In his hands he carried a chain hoist, the dense metal oval spitting out two lengths of chain, one thick and one much thinner, both culminating in a hook. With a grunt of effort he clipped the hoist to a ring in the ceiling, emphasising its weight through his efforts. Then jumping down he skipped back to the case, from which he removed a long iron spreader bar. The solid strut was as long as the box containing it, and ended with two metal hoops. One of them held a line of chain that rose towards the middle to a ring, the two lines of chain rising from the ends of the bar to connect, allowing for more stable suspension.
Next he produced a flared set of leather fetters, the interiors padded to ease the effects of being inverted and held aloft. Without removing her ankle bonds he began to buckle the riveted items into place, his fingers shaking with barely suppressed eagerness. He had clearly dreamed of this moment for so long, he could barely contain his enthusiasm now. Once he had applied padlocks to the buckles so Mina had no hope of removing them, he set loose the manacles at her ankles, treating her with caution, as if he was afraid she would lash out and attack him. He knew more than anyone what she had been, but unlike those who had owned her here, he was oblivious to the fact that, in the hands of a dominant, she was docile and subservient. The Charybdis Project had not broken her but rather seduced her, and its methods constituted a far more intense level of indoctrination than any she had ever known.
Once the cuffs were on her feet, he used heavy clips to connect them to the spare hoops of the spreader bar, leaving her legs spread wide and ready to be drawn up aloft once he started using the hoist. Taking hold of the more slender chain, he began pulling at it with slow, steady drags, rolling it hand over hand, the hoist cranking loudly as its interior cogs whirled and ground against each other. The device was designed to lift immense weight, and so despite the speed of his easy pulls to the hand chain, the lifting chain moved much more slowly. The translation of his hand motions into hoisting strength was easy and languid, and her legs slowly lifted in a gradual ascent, the chain irresistible, the weight of her body as nothing compared to its sheer hauling power. Almost with deliberate sloth, enabling him to savour the sight in all its lurid detail, the spreader chain was lifted by its ring, dragging up the bar and her feet, and carrying her legs slowly into the air. Her bottom shifted against the stone as she was gradually borne upwards, her tendons and muscles stretched and full of sensation as her joints pulsated from the burden of her weight upon them. Her wrists began to throb as the metal cuffs hauled at her arms, stretching her like a hammock of flesh between the spreader bar and the shackles. And the strain continued to increase as the man ever so gradually continued drawing in the slack.
Mina mewled and whimpered for his benefit, noticing how much he enjoyed hearing her complain. He knew how deadly she was, and it made him feel all the more powerful to have her under his control. He wanted to break her himself. He wanted to have her defeated at his hands and made compliant to his pleasures. Jupiter had no idea this had already been effectively accomplished, and he was not to know. She suppressed a smile as she increased her protests of his treatment, struggling against the bonds and murmuring curses and defiance, adopting a role she intended to play for personal pleasure.
‘Mewl all you want, my love, but you can’t resist me,’ he said in a purring voice, ceasing his pull of the chain and wandering back to his case. Mina was left at an ascending angle, her wrists pulling futilely at the straps, her toes wiggling in the air as the pressure of blood running to her head made her swim within a sense of dark relish.
Ferreting in the depths of his case, he produced a set of steel shackles. They were linked together by a short chain, the interiors soft with padded leather, the hinges spreading to reveal the locking teeth of the engineered restraints. Dropping them on the slab, he approached the manacles at her hands and opened them, jumping back as she suddenly clawed at him, pretending to be incensed and hateful of this treatment.
‘Bad girl,’ he said, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her resistance. ‘Now you put those cuffs on behind your back,’ he ordered, backing up to ensure he was well out of her reach, and moved over to his case again.
‘No!’ she gurgled, sneering at him as she chewed on the ring gag. With a sweep of her arm she swatted the cuffs away, sending them bouncing onto the cavernous floor with a clattering rattle.
‘Dear me, I can see I will have to show you the folly of resisting me, Mina. I own you. You are my slave and my employee. I will not tolerate disobedience.’ He rose with a cane in his hands.
Mina faked a squall of fear at sight of the lithe bamboo sceptre. Flinging herself wildly upon the slab she grabbed the ring gag, breaking the buckles and spitting it out. ‘Help me! For God’s sake, someone help me!’ she wailed at the top of her lungs, using her powerful abdominal muscles to lift herself up and grab at the fetters splaying her legs open. Her body swung like a pendulum as she raised herself off the stone and hung in the air, her fingers clawing uselessly against the defiant leather and the dense padlocks. She knew it was futile, but it felt wonderful pretending to fear him, to be panicked and resistant, a hostage and a victim.
‘Escape is impossible, Mina; now do as I say and put the cuffs on,’ he commanded, moving a little closer to her while swinging the weapon, making the strut shimmy and shake and hum softly with threatening tones.
‘No!’ she cried. ‘Let me go! You can’t do this!’ She continued her fight, her stomach aching from the demands of the position. Slowly she let herself sink back down until she was draped across the slab once more, the back of her head lolling against it. ‘This isn’t happening,’ she whimpered, closing her eyes and mulling over the sweet pleasure of feigning emotions as she played the role she knew would titillate her former employer.
‘I can assure you it is, Mina; I mean, does this feel fake to you?’ he asked, and swung the cane so the thin weapon caught her buttock, making her flesh shiver and causing her to yell out in genuine distress.
Clapping a hand to her hot cheek, she comforted her skin and whimpered softly. ‘You bastard!’ she cried, and then the word turned into another howl as he struck her again. Jupiter began a relentless assault, applying the implement with a steady rhythm, corrupting her ability to form words. Her hands flashed around her cavorting body as she tried to protect herself, making his task harder, forcing him to target random regions, exploiting the wide chinks in her defences as she fought to deny him access to her flesh. Again and again he struck, the burning stripes he applied making Mina howl and struggle all the harder as she tried to shield her most tender regions from his assault. But it simply was not possible; her hands could not hope to cover her breasts, her sex, her thighs and her buttocks all at once. She did not have enough hands for such total defence.
Jupiter’s eyes sparkled with the light as he worked. Dressed only in his suit trousers, his eager arm thrashed out again and again. He was completely hypnotised by the sight of Mina inverted and stretched before him, her pale body glistening with perspiration shimmering in the warm orange glow of the fiery lamps, her athletic form bucking and writhing. Each cry and wail seemed to arouse him further, her song of travail resonating through the chamber and echoing against the stone walls as she became a maenad of response to the freely applied cane.
A vicious swipe caught her inner thigh, filling the long bound limb with intense strain, and her fictitious rebellion was finally broken. ‘Stop!’ she screamed. ‘Stop! I’ll do it!’ She held her hands out to him in supplication.
‘Ensure you do.’ Tossing the cuffs back onto the slab, he swatted her open palm. The flesh burned with the arbitrary impact, and with a yelp she cradled it to herself, rubbing the extremity and whimpering pitifully. ‘Well, come on then,’ he advised sternly, throwing his arm back and readying another swipe for delivery.
‘Okay, okay, no, I’ll do it, just stop!’ she begged, her fingers clawing at the stone, swinging around to locate the cuffs. As she gained them she traced their contours, apprising herself blindly of their structure before sliding her wrists into them and closing the perfectly created devices. They locked with a damning click, leaving her hands trapped behind her separated by a slim chain. The loss of even more ability to deny him felt wonderful, increasing her dedication to her helpless role. ‘Are you happy now?’ she hissed, pulling at the bonds, fighting what she herself had just applied.
‘Not yet, sweet Mina, not yet.’ He smiled and began to attack her again with the cane.
‘Ah! Oh! Stop! I did what you asked!’ She jolted beneath each impact even as she admired him for his cruelty. She respected him for beating her into doing something to end the attack, and then beating her again anyway. Writhing and rolling against the stone, her hands unable to reach around and shield her targeted front, she was given half a dozen searing kisses of the weapon before he stopped again, and moved back to the case.
‘Attach this to the chain,’ he ordered, tossing a snap-fastening hook to her, the implement held atop a long line of thick rope.
Mina picked it up and fingered it with feigned indecision. Refusing to acquiesce, she expected more of the cane before she would do as she was told, offering defiance in response to every request he made of her. If she were truly still resentful of her slavery, she would definitely not give in so easily.
‘I told you to do something, slave, and you know the consequences of refusal,’ he threatened, and launched the cane around, catching the back of her thigh.
Mina’s jaw flew open and she gasped and croaked as her fingers quickly snapped the hoop to the chain responsible for connecting her wrists.
‘Good girl.’ He smiled as she sobbed with bogus resentment. Taking the end of the rope, he threaded it through another ring high on the wall and started drawing in the slack, his head turning while he worked so he could study the salacious form he was contorting.
‘No, please, not this!’ she cried as her body was drawn back along the slab, her arms hauled away and bending her around until they were being carried towards the wall. Hanging inverted, the drag that drew her backwards lifted her front off the slab, leaving her fully suspended, her arms resonating with strain as they were used to keep her in an arched position, her legs splayed wide. Her fingers clawed for the snap fastening, and found that the chain connecting her cuffs was now stretched taut, leaving the anchor well beyond her reach. Her nails skidded over and scratched at the cool metal, unable to affect it, dooming her to the suspension. ‘Oh, God it hurts. Please let me down. I’ll do whatever you say,’ she promised, struggling against the trammels for his licentious appetite.
‘I doubt that very much, Mina.’ He smiled with satisfaction.
‘Bastard, let me go!’ she yelled.
‘Such a mouth on you, I think you need the gag again.’ He picked up the forsaken leather ring.
‘No, okay, I’ll be quiet, I promise, just don’t put that thing back in me,’ she whimpered, going slack against her confines.
‘You’re positive? If you’ve lied to me I’ll make sure I use a far sterner gag than this, and deprive you of speech for the rest of this session,’ he warned gravely.
‘I promise,’ she muttered dejectedly, and her hanging head spun to one side as heat filled her cheek. No sooner had his backhand slap struck her than he ducked in and sank his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back and lifting her face up to his.
Her heart melted with desire at his rough and casual treatment, and hiding her reaction as best she could, she scowled as she listened to his stern words.
‘If I’m going to grant you speech, you will call me sir,’ he informed her. ‘Is that understood, slave?’
‘Yes... sir,’ she whispered.
‘That’s better.’ He released her head with a disdainful push, his role as tyrant erasing his former fondness and obsession. His relief at finally using her body had eased his lust, and now both of them were delving deep into their roles, relishing the experience, using each other for psychological thrills of the darkest kind. ‘Now, I want you to solemnly swear to something, and then I want you to sign a document that will essentially give you to me. You see, I’m not content to have you just for this one meagre session. I want you as my personal slave forever. I’ll take you from here to my home, and torture and use you for the rest of our lives, and you’ll go willingly. Won’t you, slave?’
‘The hell I will!’ Mina yelled. ‘This is bullshit! You’re not allowed to take me!’ She could see in his expression that he was lying. He wanted to break her, to make her admit she wanted to be his. With this grand quest laid down he wanted her to sign the confession and certify his skill. But he was not actually allowed to take her; it was only a lie he was using to terrify her. She would play along with him and fight him all the way, but she was still going to be imprisoned by Hephaestus, this was a certainty, and whatever occurred here would make no difference.
‘On the contrary, my little Mina, I have the document right here. Once you have signed it you are mine.’ He removed a rolled piece of paper from the case and smoothed it open, showing her lines of text and a dotted line where she was to place her signature.
Mina glanced at the paper, and then spit on it gleefully. ‘Fuck you, sir.’
Jupiter sighed, but his eyes glinted with gladness that she was going to fight him all the way. Setting the paper aside he danced a slap across her cheek again, and then trekked back to the case from where all her woes had sprung and would continue to spring. ‘Really, slave, you should know better. Such futile acts will not help you. You will be broken to my will. You will sign the document, either now or later. If you comply now, you will save yourself an awful lot of needless pain,’ he offered soothingly, as though he cared.
‘You’ll never get me to sign, and then soon I’ll be taken away and you’ll never have me!’ she exclaimed.
‘The allotted duration of our time in here is more than adequate, slave, and you’ll find that out soon enough, I promise you.’ Leaning down, he reached into his case and produced a black plastic device. The tubular mechanism trailed an insulated cable from its base, where a small dial resided. The middle of the implement had a small button set in it, and curved in at the end, where a round aperture let a glass tube emerge. Filaments within the test tube-shaped bulb suggested it was possibly a device for conducting current. He brought the contraption towards Mina’s splayed buttocks.
‘W-what the hell is that thing?’ she whispered, trying to pull away from it.
‘It’s called a violet wand, slave, and this is why.’ He thumbed the button. Instantly the device began to churn with crackling noise, the bulb filling with a purple hue that shimmered and fluctuated within the glass, and cast an insipid glow across the malevolent smile of the wielder. ‘It’s currently on one of the lowest settings, but unless you confess it’ll not stay there for long, I can assure you of that.’ He brought the glowing violet tip towards her inner thighs, painting a soft mauve colour upon her exposed skin. As it drew close, coming within half-an-inch of her, a spark of cyan lightning leapt from the glass rod and kissed her flesh, making her jerk in surprise. Jagged forks of electrical impulse flung themselves against her skin as the bulb remained in proximity to her thigh, and the energy spikes penetrating her nerve-endings made her quiver and groan. When he held it still, the steady serpentine spit of power onto one spot quickly started to heat that region of her body, the crackling fangs imparting a swelling distress that made her mewl softly. But these periods were rare, for he drifted it around, testing her reactions, treating every part of her thighs to the lapping blue tongues of energy before moving them towards more sensitive regions. The spikes of power leapt out and lapped at her sex, where the effects escalated to less comfortable levels.
Mina soothed herself with her masochism, feeling even more controlled and helpless. The addition of electrical torment in the midst of erotic power play emphasising the interrogation scenario helped her lose herself in absolute submission, enabling her to fully surrender to her role. She imagined herself as a prisoner, as a trapped soul demanding release and fighting for her freedom, struggling to hold out just long enough to defeat her tormentor. Setting loose moans of distress, she made as if she was trying to protect the regions he was attacking, but suspended and confined she could do nothing as he continued brushing the stem through the valley of her vulva, the wand pumping crackling arcs of energy inside her, making her tremble and whimper. The scent of ozone was powerful, descending to clog her nostrils like a heady perfume. ‘Please, stop,’ she wailed. ‘Stop!’
‘Will you sign?’ he asked, taking the wand away for a moment while awaiting her answer.
‘I - I can’t,’ she sobbed, listening to the grinding tune of the generators within the implement as they continued to fill the glass bulb with transient power.
‘Okay,’ he said almost merrily, and turned the dial at the base of the wand. The machine increased the angry growl of its power output, the empurpling glow staining her thighs deepening slightly as it swooped back in.
‘No, please don’t!’ she begged, and turned her words into breathless gasps as she felt the more significant kiss of the wand’s higher setting. The bizarre sensation was a wonderful blend of pleasure and pain, a treat she loved even while pretending to revile it.
‘Why do you resist, slave? You know you’re going to sign eventually. Just give up and surrender now,’ he urged, continuing to hold the bulb to her, the small tendrils of lightning reaching out to pound against her pussy.
Mina did not answer, merely clung to her feeble dignity as she twitched and writhed and accepted the instrument’s gnawing attention.
‘Okay, have it your way, slave, I’ve got all night, and I’m in no hurry,’ he assured her, pressing the cut-off button. The device fell silent and the incandescent force within it vanished. Setting it on the slab in readiness for later use, he then produced a ‘magic wand’ and flicked on the thrumming tool as he returned to his spot beside her. ‘Perhaps another brand of influence might prove more effective on you,’ he said, and pushed the oscillating head between the lips of her sex and up into her cleft.
She gasped and pretended to struggle against the sheer bliss of the wonderful toy thrusting its delights into her belly, filling her with relish and making her ache to be taken all the way on the back of the exceptionally stimulating toy. ‘Oh... oh my! What’s... what’s that?’ she panted, feigning ignorance of the toy she so loved to feel teasing her.
‘It’s good, isn’t it, slave?’ he asked, moving it in small circles, escalating the feeling of joy being poured into her pelvis. ‘You like it?’
‘Oh yes... oh, sir!’ she gasped, her legs tensing as she was goaded towards a swift climax.
‘Well, enough of that,’ he stated, turning it off and setting it aside, depriving her of its delightful vibrating caresses and leaving her twitching with frustration. Taking up the cane, he held it by either end and flexed the bamboo between his fists, warming it up for its imminent work.
‘Oh please, sir, no,’ she implored. ‘No more caning.’
‘Will you sign?’ he asked insipidly, and was answered only with silence and a scowling grimace of refusal. ‘As you wish, Mina.’ He flung the cane around and against her already well-punished thighs, working with slow diligence, enjoying his attack on her nubile suspended form.
Without reservation she tensed and moaned, whimpering in pitiful squeaks as he continued to abuse her, the implement dropping onto her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, her bound hands unable to shield her.
After another dose of the cane he paused and set it beside the gathering arsenal already on display.
She squinted her eyes, recovering from the lambasting, her bottom throbbing terribly, each welt vivid to her scattered senses, her breaths rapid, her heart racing, a fevered perspiration forming an appetising sheen across her suspended figure.
Moving back to her head after another brief visit to his case, Jupiter crouched down before her, looking into her face as she scowled trying to find a more comfortable position in her bonds, her limbs aching, her skin pulsating from the plexus of welts he had set down. ‘I wonder how these will respond to treatment?’ he pondered, brushing the back of a hand against her nipples where they hung before him.
Mina flashed him a look of dismay, shaking her head from side to side, filling her voice with impassioned pleading. ‘Please sir, don’t, please!’
He smiled broadly and taking the wand up again he removed the glass tube, revealing the copper base that allowed the power to pour into it. He slotted in a new version, an attachment shaped like a small glass tube that curled around and bore a mushroom-shaped head. Again he pressed the button, bringing the device alive with fulgent power. The head glowed with a violet effluence, the light staining them both as they stared at one another, infinitely separated as owner and slave, fictitious victim and torturer.
Mina tried to shy away as he lifted the device, attempting to pull her breasts back, but her hanging flesh could do nothing to evade the wand’s ascending head. Tensing in readiness she let out a squawk of ecstatic suffering as the tendrils of energy leapt from the flat surface of the glass bulb and the round head threw a concentrated lightning into her nipple, assailing it from numerous directions. Whimpering and cavorting against her bonds, she continued to vent her false woe, holding on to the powerful seed of delight blooming inside her as he tormented her with the devilish device.
Jupiter used it several times on each of her nipples, plaguing her flesh, leaving her teats hard and erect in its wake. He turned up the power again, and the smell of ozone continued to gather in intensity as he hounded her breasts with the baleful effects of the insidious instrument, the little flashes of discharge resembling a tiny strobe light pulsing frenziedly. ‘Why are you resisting me, Mina? You know you cannot win. Already you are near to breaking. Imagine hours more of this, and it will only get worse, I promise you. Give in now, and it will all end.’ He moved the glowing glass bulb around in the air just above each aureole, harrying the delicate skin with stabs of intense sensation.
‘No!’ she yelled. ‘I won’t do it!’
The wand went silent, and was set back down again. ‘As you wish, slave,’ he replied lightly, straightening up and strolling casually back to his case to fetch more devices with which to try and break her spirit. ‘You’ve never really had time for relationships, have you, Mina? All that time alone, with no human contact.’ He returned to her side holding a large blue jelly dildo in one hand, and the cane in the other. The translucent phallus gleamed in the light, drooping slightly as he crouched before her once more. ‘I doubt you’ve ever had a big dick thrust down that succulent throat of yours, have you, Mina?’ He smiled at her expression. ‘I’ll take that as a no. Well, no sense delaying it, you had best get used to it, as its going to be a large part of your future.’ He pushed the rounded head to her lips.
She kept them tightly closed, clenching her jaw and trying to turn her head from side to side to escape him.
Again he grabbed her by the hair, using it as a means to hold her head steady and serve her jaw up to the device. ‘Swallow it,’ he snapped, tightening his grip and making her roots growl with pain.
Wallowing in her submission, Mina let her jaw open reluctantly, the feeling of defeat causing her to become light-headed with pleasure. The dildo slithered in, roughly coaxing her into spreading her jaws even wider, the corners of her mouth aching as she tried to accommodate it. Jupiter rocked it back and forth, pushing deep until she gagged and gurgled with shock as it neared the back of her throat.
‘Come on, suck on it like a good girl,’ he ordered.
Closing her eyes against the sight, she locked lips to the shaft, her pussy growing moist with the desire to feel it thrust inside her. But she had a part to play and could not cave in just yet, not until she had really been tested.
‘No teeth,’ he snapped. ‘That’s bad, very bad. You have to learn to suck properly, Mina.’
Opening her mouth even wider, she strained to keep her teeth off the dildo, the intruder far bigger than any human length. Images of her oral training under Atlas washed back through her mind’s eye, the suspension that had been part of both these events increasing the similarities.
‘I guess that will do,’ he commented after a while, removing the instrument and setting it aside beneath her hovering form, the jelly glistening in the light with her saliva.
Releasing her hair, he treated her to a few more strokes of the cane, which made her writhe and wail, before he once more delved into his bag. Stepping up onto the plinth behind her he ran a finger through her sex, capturing a coating of the ample moisture there. ‘Such a lust-filled little slut you are. Look at this. You cry and moan, and yet when I shove a nice big penis down your throat you’re all hot for more,’ he accused her approvingly. ‘Well, we’ll get to that soon enough,’ he promised, and stepped before her face holding a set of clover clamps. Presenting them in each hand, he lifted them towards her engorged teats.
‘Oh no, not there, not on my breasts, please!’ she begged with false despair, trying to wiggle her way out of range of the clamps as they closed in on her, and then snapped on to each of her nipples. ‘Ah!’ she shrieked. ‘No! Get them off me, please!’ The silver chains linking the clamps jingled and sung as she writhed in torment, much to Jupiter’s delight.
‘Will you sign yourself over to me now?’ he asked patiently, standing back and folding his arms across his bare chest while awaiting her response.
‘Please, I can’t do that, I just can’t!’ she sobbed.
‘Then you’d best get used to those little contrivances, as they aren’t coming off any time soon, slave.’ He knelt back down and picked up the violet wand. Switching it on, he waved the crackling tip under her gaze.
Mina watched the mesmerising glass disc with wide eyes, wondering what the results would be when the mushroom tip applied its force to her compressed teats.
‘Last chance,’ he offered, and when she refused to react or respond, he assailed her crushed nipples with the crackling device.
The pressure of the clamps escalated the effects of the energy blasts and made her sob and quake wildly against her bonds. ‘Oh God, stop... stop, please sir, stop!’ she begged as he continued subjecting her to the forking energy without mercy, turning up the setting as the numbness being imparted into her sensitive tissues by the clamps began to work contrary to the wand’s influence. He continued torturing her like this for a while, using the device until the clamps made it too difficult to afflict her. He then set it aside again and flicked at the silver implements biting her teats, making her reply with jerks of her whole body as the inflammation of distress in her mammary glands rose unbearably.
‘I think we’ll leave these on for a while,’ he said, lazily admiring the shiny weave of steel hanging between her breasts, the chain slung between them swaying slightly with her gasps. Then his idle study of the devices afflicting her with suffering ended as he reunited the cane with her flesh, his hand applying a handful of strokes across her form as she cried out and begged him to stop. He seemed to use the cane between events as a sort of chapter break, a moment to pause and savour the memory of his last punishment before proceeding with the next one. Her skin, already well versed in the lessons of the cane, was now pulsating with contused intensity, her flesh zebra-striped with lurid welts.
Hanging in a daze of dissolute excess, Mina mulled over her predicament. She was tempted to let herself be broken soon, to surrender herself to his will, but for now she wanted more, she wanted to feel the abuse she so passionately craved, to dwell in the shadow of another’s dominance. He had her bound and helpless before him, and as she falsely strove against his will she yearned to give in, but the longer she held out the more rewarding her final defeat would be.
Taking up the dildo and producing a second identical one, he climbed onto the stone altar with her again and stood before her stretched legs, marvelling at the sight of her spread-eagled before him, her pussy and bottom an open, prurient book to his gaze. He ran a finger down her thigh, no longer able to resist a quick tactile indulgence, and she heard him purr softly with lust as his digit traced her welts, the raised and flushed imprint of the cane attracting his full interest for a few moments. Unable to deny himself the thrill of seeing her penetrated, he rested one of the toys against her sodden pudenda. He started to rock each back and forth in turn, rotating them, gathering a full coating of her natural juices to lubricate the devices. Mina shook with rapture as she felt each example roll against her, teasing her while she clenched her hands into fists, her mouth gaping open.
‘I wonder if this hole is as virginal as the rest of you, my sweet former puppet.’ He aimed the toy between her bottom cheeks.
‘No, sir, please don’t do this to me,’ she wailed, offering him the possibility he was correct.
‘Will you sign?’ he asked, and met silence once more as she shivered and fought against her bonds, trying to get free by way of an answer. Her every limb strained against her splayed suspension as the dildo was pushed into her, and she acknowledged the acute pleasure of the penetration with her moans as he slowly fed the massive interloper into her bottom. The exquisite sensation of its massive trespass was easily mistakable for pain, how much she enjoyed feeling the titanic shaft drilling deep into her causing breathless screams to issue from her throat as it slid all the way inside her.
‘There, that’s a good girl, I knew you’d like it.’ His voice shook with excitement as he watched the blue translucent shaft vanishing into her buttocks right before his eyes. ‘But let’s see the full range we can explore here,’ he muttered, ravenous to see a dual intrusion. He began adding the other length to her moist sex, forcing it in and rocking the dildos back and forth leisurely.
Mina broke into paroxysms of response, her body played like an instrument by the sheer bliss being pumped through her nervous system by the linked dildos. The torture and subjugation had aroused her more than she realised, and now with penetration added to the strain of suspension and clamps, she was barely able to keep track of her sanity. Howling into the air as she was sodomised and ravished, she begged and pleaded for him to stop, and her words sounded truly desperate because the joy of it was almost too much to withstand. The two pliant levers were rolled and steered and dragged from side to side as he continued to thrust them in and out of her orifices, and crying out in utter rhapsody, Mina danced and bounced in her restraints, the feel of the clamps lost, the heinous applied pressure on her nipples unable to compete with such heady bliss.
Then a twisting yank extracted the two lengths with a popping sound, and trickles of moisture ran down her belly, the stimulus having flooded her pussy with lubricating juices.
Stepping off the plinth he set the toys aside, leaving her wheezing in a dazed stupor, her eyes fluttering closed, her mouth hanging open. Then she felt his hands brush her breasts, his fingers tracing meandering paths around the hanging flesh before closing in on her nipples.
‘Oh God,’ she whined as he gathered up the clamps, and then she moaned in rapturous agony as he started to pull and twist them, manoeuvring the entrapped and afflicted nuggets of sensitive tissue in their metal jaws. Then suddenly he opened them, and her droning mewl became a shriek and she thrashed madly as the tips of her breasts erupted with sensation, burning spikes of woe that shot through her whole body. Finally the level of havoc began dwindling, merging with the excruciating background pain she was constantly in, a steady and regular level of distress wrought by the suspension and her cumulative horde of angry welts. Hanging in an apathetic daze, Mina heard Jupiter changing implements yet again, arming himself with a new means to try and vanquish his most deadly and accomplished employee. The crackling grind of the violet wand reached her ears, and she turned her hanging head to see his hands strangely empty. Frowning in confusion, she then saw that a small silver pad lay tucked into his waistband, pressing it to his skin. The panel spilled an insulated cable to the head of the wand where it lay deserted on the floor, grumbling with power all to itself.
Reaching out, his finger spat a tentacle of cyan force onto her flank, his whole body transformed into a bulb by the conductor attachment he was wearing. She gurgled and shook as he reached around her, his fingers letting energy spill from his skin. It was bizarre to see that as the jolt of electrical force left his skin it remained benign to him, whereas when it jumped between them it suddenly became afflictive to her. She shuddered while the crackling blue sparks were drawn across her by his wandering hands hovering just above her flesh, letting strobe pulses flash over her. Then, striding back up onto the plinth, he stood above her loins like some tyrannical sorcerer ready to use his magic against her. Waving his hands he let his digits swoop across her most intimate regions, his palms and fingertips hurling angry lightning flashes of sensation into her, causing her to gasp and wail. It was an amazing experience to watch the man dominating her transform himself into the instrument of punishment, to have his body sending charged bolts of sensation into his targeted submissive. She was giddy with elation at the feeling of being tormented in this way, Jupiter seeming almost more than human now as the very fibres of his being unleashed influences on her, as if his very will could be manifested and used to harass her.
‘Ready to sign yet, slave?’ he asked, letting his little finger run above the entrance to her pussy, his skin spilling copious arcs of energy against her labia and making her legs quiver, the muscles flashing with tension.
‘No, I won’t,’ she gasped, her words shaking with indecision in order to try and goad him on, to offer him the possibility that he was almost there, almost successful in his eventual and complete triumph over her.
Kneeling on the slab, he leaned down and grabbed a pinwheel from his case, and Mina watched as he positioned himself behind her and readied the instrument. She wondered what he intended, for she had succumbed to such a trinket before and the neuro wheel had been a pleasing tease to her skin. But when he rolled it down her inner thigh, it was a far less charming companion this time. The electrical force so readily dissipated upon the bulbs and upon his body was concentrated down the pinned head of the wheel, condensing the flow to a tiny point that made every touch feel like a piercing stab. She tensed to attention and howled as he trailed it gently and lazily over her skin, the tiny spires feeling as though they were lacerating her, so intense was their discharge into her hapless nerves.
The enhanced pinpricks rode all over her legs and then down her back and chest, working their way towards her breasts and making her sob and quiver. Jupiter teased her with the affliction, circling her hanging mounds like a bird of prey, laying down distressing whirls of sensation around them before finally crossing onto the soft inverted tissue. She squawked and battled against her restraints as the pinwheel laid its agonising tracks upon her assets, the absolute worst moments coming when his wandering hand crossed her nipples, casting scorching, stabbing waves into her teats.
‘Ready to confess now, Mina? Ready to sign yourself over to me? If you are, this all ends right now,’ he offered, leaving her shaking her head violently from side to side as she wept with dismay at how savage the wheel had become. ‘As you wish,’ he stated equably, and started to trail the wheel back up her body.
‘Oh no! No sir, please! I’m begging you, show mercy,’ she whimpered as she guessed where he was taking it. She had almost given in when he was attending her assets, the influence of the wheel almost eclipsing her masochistic hunger. But before she gave in she wanted to know what it felt like on her sex, to taste fully of what horrors it could commit. If they were too much, as she guessed they would be, she would give in instantly. Admitting to his ownership was a safe word she could use if his play became too much for her to take, and while it was there, she could allow herself to endure and enjoy all the atrocities he had to offer her ravenous physique.
‘Then sign!’ he commanded, the wheel crossing her flexing belly, her muscles jerking as the warped medical tool continued its prickly voyage up towards her pussy.
‘I can’t! I won’t! But please, not this, I can’t take any more! I can’t take the pain!’ She wailed, telling him she was close to her limits, that he was almost there and this deed could well be the one to finally vanquish her.
‘Then taste these little electric teeth on your pussy, slave.’ He dragged the small wheel between her thighs, letting the metal fangs bite her vulva.
‘Ah! Stop! Stop!’ she screamed, her every muscle straining and alive with duress as she fought her containment.
‘Sign!’ he commanded again, tracing the wheel dangerously close to her roused clit.
‘Nooooo!’ she howled, denying his rule as well as the imminent attack she was yearning to experience. The wheel crossed her tender bud, its spires throwing unbelievable travail into her nerve-endings, making her pelvis and buttocks explode with pain. ‘I’ll sign! I’ll sign, sir! Stop! I’ll do it! I’ll do anything!’
The wheel came away and she felt him pat her sodden pudenda before jumping down off the platform. ‘Good girl, I knew you’d come around in the end.’
Mina hung limp from her bonds, shuddering, her nerves frayed, her system in shock from having experienced so many terrible sensations. But even now the torment was metamorphosing in her mind, wreathing itself in heady bliss and becoming a sweet torture. She was enamoured with the memory of her cries, of her willingness to do, and say, anything to end the affliction, as she was broken to the demands of another’s desires. The cosy warmth spreading through her psyche helped soothe her discomfort as she hung before Jupiter, awaiting the final act in their contracted session.
‘But before I give you the paper,’ he said abruptly, ‘I want you to prove that you’re telling the truth, slave.’ He stepped before her once more, and the wand continuing to crackle in the background told her his anatomy was still charged with the power to torment her.
‘Anything, sir, just please don’t use the wheel on me again.’
‘Then you will service me,’ he stated.
Mina hesitated for a moment to pretend she was considering his offer, delaying her response until he was forced to prompt her.
‘Okay, back to the wheel we go,’ he said enthusiastically, turning and heading back towards his case.
‘No sir, please, I’ll do it... I’ll do it.’
Acting with celerity, spurned by his elation, Jupiter lowered her back to the stone surface, paying out the hoist as quickly as the dense mechanism would permit. Once she was down he exploited her level of enervation to reconfigure her restraints. Mina could move a little, but she continued to feign total apathy, offering a few weak struggles to his will as he worked, eager to sate her own thirst to service him.
A padlock was used to connect her wrist cuffs, sealing them directly together and leaving the chain hanging in a loose loop from the steel bands. The fetters that were still anchored to the stone were used to capture her ankles once more, leaving her able to sink back onto her knees while still tying her to the small granite stage. Secured before him, she watched as he stepped back up onto the plinth. Lowering his zipper, he left the body conductor attachment firmly in place, promising her a variant on her normal task of fellatio.
Mina rose up onto her knees, her bonds keeping her legs apart and in a semi-squat. With timid motions she reached in and drew his rapidly swelling length free, her fingers sustaining nips of shock as she came into contact with his flesh. Jupiter grinned as she moaned and worked, her hands sustaining constant crackling kisses while she drifted a fist back and forth, conjuring more rigidity, making him swell in her hand.
‘Enough of that, get to it, slave.’
Opening her mouth and closing her eyes, she drifted forward, her hands to the stone. She recoiled suddenly with a squeak and nursed her lips, several arcs of cyan force having jumped free as she drew close to him, biting her before she even came into contact with his mordant anatomy.
‘Unless you want to feel that sensation on your clit, you’d best do as I say, slave,’ he threatened.
Trying again, Mina closed in quicker this time, gobbling up his shaft so she spread more of her skin onto his, narrowing the concentration of force. Her tongue still suffered the odd nip, and her lips were tingling from the charge being slipped between them, but it was easier to perform this way. Rocking her head in a piston-like motion she emitted soft moans of dismay as she worked, exciting him all the more, making him grow rigid against her palate as she serviced his lust. Occasionally she removed her mouth from him altogether and let the tip of her tongue flit against the head of his length, enduring the far more concentrated regime of single weaving bolts. It was an entrancing sensation, one that had her teasing his head again and again so she could taste the charge with the tip of her tongue. She let her lips drift back over him, sustaining a variety of pulses through her soft orifice as she continued to work him towards orgasm, punished by his body while she toiled for his pleasure. Finally, she felt his shaft pulsing in her mouth, and a small precursor taste of his seed trickling down her throat.
‘That’s enough,’ he growled, dragging himself from the spell she was weaving, pushing her back and stepping away. Grabbing her shoulders, he shoved her facedown against the plinth, leaving her spread before him, her hands behind her back, her legs parted by their bonds.
Mina smiled into the stone as she felt him move between her splayed legs and aim himself into her sodden sex. After the prolonged torture she was open and willing to accept him, and he glided into her without effort. His length scorched her with a few shocking bolts as he approached, making her jerk and moan before he was fully within her, spreading a tingling electrical stimulation through her womb. The sensation was unidentifiable and intense, spicing his slow casual thrusts, the penetration infinitely more exciting with this new and bizarre addition to the blissful sensation. Moaning in rapture, she felt him picking up speed, keeping himself propped up with his hands, his legs held back so as to keep as little of himself in contact with her as possible. Then, with a bestial bray, he answered his orgasm, driving into her from root to tip, filling her acutely with each thrust. Mina cried aloud with pleasure, this second act of coitus between them accentuated and magnified by his torment of her flesh and her complete submission to him.
He slowed and broke into more chaotic motions before he finally stopped moving. Switching off the wand, he removed the conducting pad and left himself lying on top of her, using her body as a bed while he breathed softly and deeply, recovering from the joy of using her as his possession.
Mina lay dazed against the stone, recovering her senses from the numerous trials of the session, the two of them perspiring and silent as they mulled over the precious memory, reliving their favoured parts.
With a deep metallic tone the door of the room unlocked and was forced back on its heavy hinges. Two Cyclops women entered, one of them holding a collection of chains and iron manacles. ‘She is to be relocated now, sir,’ one of them stated.
‘So soon? Ah, but it was well worth the wait,’ crooned Jupiter as he slowly extracted himself from Mina, the feel of his length riding against her tender membranes making the chains jangle once more as she jerked and gasped beneath his exit. ‘Until we can meet again, my sweet predator,’ he said with a laconic air, but his voice was unsteady with feeling. He had spent so long dreaming of her, and now he had at last tasted the fruit he had hungered after for so many years. She wondered what he was thinking now he’d finally taken what he had wanted for so long. She wondered if she was diminished in his eyes. Gathering his shed articles of clothing, he carelessly crushed them into a ball and staggered from the room, his feet dragging, his eyes clouded with the after-effects of actually living what he had spent so long dreaming of.
The Cyclops women watched him depart and then moved in on Mina, opening her shackles and dragging her up onto her feet. After reinstalling the ring gag, one of the guards stepped before her and laced her arms beneath Mina’s, gripping her around her upper torso and holding her upright. Mina could have attempted to stand, but it felt much more satisfying to simply hang against the stern hold of the woman, her head resting against the firm breasts, her features nuzzled into the soft cleavage. The other guardian then took her limp arms and brought them back to snap thick iron cuffs on her wrists, which were connected by a short chain with a fat ring at the centre, and from there another chain moved up to a dense and heavy collar. The weighty band was set about her throat, the thick locks snapped into place. The ring also dropped two other lines of heavy chain, the strong coils extending to fetters that were clipped to her feet, weighing her down even more with their oppressive and exceedingly stout design. They seemed almost medieval in their appearance, the sort of absurdly weighty bonds modern technology and alloys had made unnecessary. Clearly, Hephaestus was a nostalgic creature, or at least a lover of dark and perilous times.
Two leashes of thick chain were then snapped to the front of her collar, the ring welded into the iron accepting the leads as the two women stepped forward, holding the reigns in their burly fists. Mina wilted for a moment under the weight that was upon her, because the chains and restraints were far from light. Gathering her strength she straightened up, the cold lines of iron swinging and brushing against her naked form.
Having seen that she could bear up under her burden, the two women started leading her out, and accompanied by the clattering melody of her chains, Mina was led back up the short steps and out into the corridor towards her fate.
Jupiter had sent her here, and crafted her downfall for his own designs just to get a few hours with her. Previously she would have been outraged, and sworn to have him bleeding his life out at her feet, but he had unwittingly sentenced her to heaven, and she could not revile him for that, no matter how selfish his motives had been. If she could just get free now, and back to her owners...
Her last lingering shred of loyalty to the world above had been destroyed. She had nothing to go back to. Her employers were aware of her failure to bring Charybdis down, and well they should be, because they had planned it. Served up to this place before the companies were spliced together as part of some grand scheme concocted by the all-powerful forces behind them, she had no other obligation now than to her own pleasure, and that of those who wished to make use of her.
Her escorts brought her to a wall where two sets of chain-link curtains blocked the way. Led through the one on the left, she was guided down a flame-lit passage and shown into a small hall. A chain-link veil presented an exit in each wall, and a squat iron brazier in each corner of the roughly cut, square room roared with smokeless fury, filling it with dancing shadows and rippling light. A row of four stone plinths were set down the centre, the slabs roughly equal in size to tables, with dozens of iron eyelets set along their outer edges. To the left of each table, a couple of yards away, a heavy winch with chains hung from the ceiling, while on the other side of each slab sat a heavy metal trunk.
Marching Mina to the nearest stone slab, the two women grabbed her by the shoulders and feet and hoisted her onto the platform, laying her facedown and then stepping back to wait silently, their faces grim.
A set of curtains opened and Hephaestus limped in, three more Cyclops women walking behind him, each of them carrying a metal box, which they set on the slab next to Mina. Without any word of explanation the reticent Titan began unfastening her restraints, setting her free as his aids produced moulded forms of rubber from within the trunks, the new uniform shimmering in the light and wafting the scent of latex into the air as it was brought over to her.
The Titan removed her ring gag and had the women lean over and press her against the rock as another assistant grabbed her jaws and lifted them up, parting them so Hephaestus could gather up the tubing of one of the deep penetrating gags. The stomach tube was passed into her mouth and fed down her throat, her struggles defeated as the ghastly sensation spilled down her oesophagus, opening her to the control of her oppressors. The mouth plate drew nearer as the wriggling passage of the slick hose continued to drill down her gullet, and the large formed mouthpiece was slotted in.
An inflator bulb was used to expand the already large dimensions of the device still further, stretching Mina’s jaws upon it more acutely and making her fight the women with more conviction. Kept subdued, she could do nothing as the device gave a soft click, its construction such that it actually sealed itself to her, lodging itself behind her teeth so that no matter what she did, she could not expunge the foul thing. Trying to move her latex buried tongue, she sought to test the security of the device, and found it absolute.
Thin hoses were taken up and carefully threaded into her nostrils, so air could be force-fed to her. A cup gathered the tip of her nose and was clipped into place, locking to the mouthpiece to leave both intrusions immobile.
A heavy hood was taken up and forced down over her head. A single fitting, like the breathing port of a gasmask, lay about the lower half of her face. The moulded protrusion snapped its internal arms to the waiting sockets of the hoses, leaving two nozzles protruding from the outward facing sides and a refilling valve at the front. The sheath was tightened to her head with several pulls to its straps, and the dense rubber posture collar was fixed into place, the band incorporated into the hood designed to lift her chin and leave her looking straight up, unable to move from this position.
Staring through a slender silver visor, Mina moaned around her gags as her arms were roughly manoeuvred, the women and the overseeing Titan manipulating her with the indifference shown to any piece of merchandise undergoing processing. There was nothing she could do to hamper them as the two ends of a rubber tube were fed onto her arms, dragging the limbs into its tight folds, locking her hands into tight featureless mittens at the middle, where they could not touch each other. The two ends reached to her biceps and were buckled to her skin before a second strap was lifted up, the suspender-like fitting connecting them to her collar.
Her distress intensified as the central point, where her hands lay, was taken and pulled up, twisting her arms up her back until they could use another buckle attached to the rear of her hood to clip the two together. With such effective trammels in place, Mina’s arms were left contorted and useless to her.
A small canister was removed from a box, the flat, form-fitting storage tank being set under her arms, lifting them up slightly as a cross formation of straps was set around her chest to hold the air reservoir in place. She could see now she was destined to return to the oceans, to hide in anonymity amongst the fish, where no one could find her. The prospect of being lost to such a caste was more than she could stand, for it would almost certainly keep her from ever being discovered by her owners, and she started to fight with genuine effort, throwing her muscles against those of the women, writhing furiously, trying to get free, or at least to stop the rest of the applications. But it was far too late; she had no hope of defeating so many enemies.
A crop sung against the air and applied itself with barbarous force to her bottom as one of the women beat her buttocks to quell her temper. The crop sung dull tunes through the air and met her flesh again and again. She howled against the gag, tears slipping down to collect against the visor as she cavorted against the imprisoning hands and walls of dense rubber. At last she gave up and resigned herself to the inevitable, and the crop ceased its attentions a moment later as her buttocks throbbed terribly from the adornment of at least a dozen more strident welts.
Whipped into submission, Mina nurtured the hope that she could somehow swim up to Oceanus and Tethys and use body language to betray her true identity. In her aftershock stupor, she felt them drawing a cocoon of rubber up her body, and her legs being fed into the tight sack. The body sheath rolled from her toes to her neck, the garment clipping itself to her collar before they began tightening the various straps of the vestments, making it cling to her more forcefully.
Her breasts were sealed in cups that streamlined them against her body, and two hoses were fed through a tight-fitting aperture. The black cables snapped to her facemask and to her tank, giving her access to air, the tank filtering in a sweet-scented oxygen supply.
She bucked as a long plug was pushed up into her sex, the trespasser set fast with the straps as they gripped her legs, a slit leaving her anus accessible by the Titans of the seabed. Dorsal spines ran along the seam of her legs, the long fins of black rubber an alternative to a tail.
Mina could now see her future lot in life. As a long black serpent she was to serve in the lowest regions of the ocean depths as a human eel, accessing the valves she had seen being installed in the coral when she was swimming with her beloved owners.
She was left where she was, able only to writhed against the stone. Breathing steadily of her air supply, she watched as one of the Cyclops women placed a fresh canister before her and snapped its hose to the valve before her face. Were the air tanks on her back so meagre that they required filling so quickly? Mina realised they would have to be in order to keep the eel women to the coral, unable to rise above it because they would constantly need to keep filling their small tanks. Against such demands she had little hope of swimming up to meet Oceanus and Tethys should she spot them. It would be the worst of tortures to see them swimming above her, seeking their lost pet, and be unable to reach them.
Another nymph was brought in and placed on a slab, her body processed by the same relentless rubber bondage that had snared Mina. And after this girl, another nymph was delivered to the chamber, leaving nine of the Cyclops guards either working or idly watching the procedure of entrapment. How many of these gargantuan Amazon warriors did Hephaestus have serving him? How many nymphs did he possess? Was it some sort of punishment for recalcitrant or unruly slaves to be sent down to Hephaestus for a period of tutelage in a bizarre uniform, or as one of his living sculptures?
Once all three of the nymphs were indistinguishable from each other, a pair of guards took them up by tail and head, holding them like some latex hammock between them and ferrying them through the furthest exit.
Against a far wall were six hatches of steel set in the stone. The banks of pipes and controls about them indicated they were torpedo tubes redesigned to launch bound female slaves into the sea. Three powerful assistants opened one tube each, and after their spare air supplies were removed, each of the eel women was fed into the smooth polished interior, the steel chute leading into blackness.
The door clanged shut behind Mina, leaving her in complete oblivion and breathing softly into her tubes wondering what was going to happen to her once she was expelled into the ocean.
With a rushing hiss water began flooding the tube, spilling rapidly around her, churning and full of bubbles that buffeted her form. The flood rose swiftly, riding over her body, rocking her on the severe turbulence. She floated a little upon the waters as the shaft was fully drowned, leaving her studying the empty lightless void. Then upon a pressurised flush of force she was hurled forward, her second skin rippling as the water launched her like a bullet from a rifle. Hurtling with increasing speed she saw a sudden flash of light before her, and she was violently released into the ocean depths. The other two women were on her left and right, wreathed in a column of silver bubbles from their passage. The local fish jerked around and flashed away, the bright tropical breeds and the human variety both startled by the sudden explosive introduction of a new species. The air from their expulsion drifted up towards the surface, and reminded them of their dwindling supply.
Fighting the impetus of their launch, the three nymph eels used their tails to turn around and thrash from side to side, propelling themselves back towards the ocean floor. The disguised chutes within the coral drifted shut and locked, hiding the port that had given them this second birth into the world of Charybdis. Taking individual paths, they slithered amongst the bright living rock formations searching for a valve as the soft beeps warning them that it was necessary to fill their air tanks began ringing in their ears. Each breath started to grow stagnant as their air supply dwindled rapidly, consumed and expelled as a plume of silver orbs.
At last Mina spotted one of the silver vents protruding from the sand beneath an overhang of coral. Ducking under this canopy and entering the shade, she locked her face to the metal vent, the three internal holes fixing to her hoses. She felt something shudder down her throat as she was fed a small quantity of nutrient sustenance, and her tank was quickly refuelled, before a puff of excess pressure forced her off of the valve, clearly revealing now the stifling limitations of her new existence.
What was she to do? She was doomed down here, unable to escape, unable to tell anyone whom she was, unable to reveal her presence and identity herself to those who might be seeking her. She was forced to loiter amongst the valves, her body bound in tight latex, indistinguishable from every other eel. How long would she be kept here? Surely this was not a lifelong sentence? Poseidon, Hephaestus, Atlas, someone had to come for her eventually. But how would they even be able to tell who she was?
Trying not to panic, Mina frantically pondered what her future held now that she and her fate were for the first time completely anonymous.