Daisy Gets the Treatment She Wants - ch 03 by AsDiane

Rating: 89%, Read 29186 times, Posted Sep 08, 2011

Fiction | BDSM, Cruelty, Domination, Extreme, Humiliation, Sado-Masochism, Slavery, Submission


[Day 1-2 (Saturday-Sunday) - late evening/early morning]

Bill stepped forward and raised his glass in a toast. "I think we can start the main event now." He took a drink and motioned to two of his men. They rolled the big wooden X down the hallway and into a bigger room.

... end of Chapter 2 ...

The wheels of the dolly underneath the big cross were small and Daisy's body felt every small bump in the floor like a blow. Every part of her body ached, every muscle was fatigued and screamed for rest, every inch of skin was raw and on fire. Underneath it all, though, she was alert and aroused -- this was what he'd promised her, what she'd hoped for when she got on the plane over twenty-four hours ago. She'd been a pain slut ever since she finished college and decided to turn herself over to her Master instead of her career, a choice she never regretted. Since he set her free, she'd been through a series of Masters and Mistresses, all of them disappointing.

Until Peter.

Even though most of the relationship had been long distance, that week in Las Vegas had convinced her that he was the only one she'd met since her first Master who could keep her interested.

This trip hadn't been a letdown at all. Since she landed, he'd kept at her constantly, driving home his complete ownership of her body, relentlessly working her over with belts and brushes, paddles and probes. And now, the Pear. Evil genius. She felt it deep inside her, jerked again as the two men rolled the big St. Andrew's Cross over the small floor molding between the hallway and room they were entering.

Daisy felt another rush of lust between her legs as she was rolled into the middle of the room. There were just over a dozen men -- and two women -- sitting in high-backed metal chairs. They were dressed identically: orange prison suits with numbers over the left breast pocket. Their heads were all shaved, men and women alike, and each wore a heavy manacle that locked their left ankle to the metal chairs.

She knew from the movies that these were prisoners, and probably hardened prisoners judging by the metal chairs, the shackles, and the presence of an equal number of uniformed guards along the wall, each armed with a sawed-off shotgun. Her cunt gushed. She started looking at them one by one, making and holding eye contact, already feeling raped and helpless, feeling their bodies on top of her, feeling their animal energy penetrating her and ripping her apart.

Bill led the others into the room, walking slowly and being careful to keep a safe distance from any of the orange-suited prisoners. The room was big enough for all of his guests to gather safely in the space behind the prisoners.

"Daisy, one of the services I have the privilege of providing the state is participation in an experimental program called the Open Gate Initiative." Bill paused and waved to one of the guards. He nodded and the guard pointed to two of the other officers. They handed their rifles to the first man then headed toward Daisy. "The Open Gate Initiative is a treatment program for sexual deviants." The men detached the wires from Daisy's Pear and pulled the duct tape and battery packs off of her legs. "A significant amount of research has been done on the effects of anti-libidinal medications and behavior modification..." They collapsed the Pear and slid it gently out of Daisy's vagina then removed the anal probe. Daisy leaned against the wood, completely naked and empty now. "...but those treatments have had less-than-stellar long-term effectiveness. Open Gate takes a different approach..." The officers untied Daisy and lowered her from the cross, holding her steady so she didn't collapse on the floor. When she was able to support herself, they stepped away and took their place back in line.

Bill had the two men roll the cross out of the room. They returned in a few minutes, pushing a single bed, sliding it against the wall. "...the idea with this program is to accept the fact that these perpetrators will never be cured. But, they can learn to manage their deviant obsessions through a system of controlled and predictable experiences. Scheduled periodic indulgence, if you will, of the tendencies that got them in trouble in the first place."

I saw Daisy look around the room, her eyes slowly moving from face to face. She looked like a kid in a candy store. The idea that her body would be given over to a series of sexual deviants excited her. The idea that they would be using her as a kind of flesh and blood methadone excited her even more. They would know there was no chance of going to jail for anything they did, so they would have no reason to even attempt to control their impulses. They could play out their sickest fantasies on her body.

Even in her exhausted state, I could tell she couldn't wait to let them get started. She opened her knees and slid her hand between her legs right there in front of the group. It was probably the most purely obscene thing I'd ever seen. She was challenging them, egging them on, throwing down the gauntlet. She opened her pussy lips and leaned her head forward, spit a gob of saliva into her crotch, rubbed it with two fingers, then pushed them deep insider her, moaning the whole time. The prisoners leered at her, leaning forward, nostrils flaring, eyes burning with lust.

Bill watched as Daisy masturbated herself to a wild orgasm, thrashing on the floor in front of the crowd, ramming her fingers into her cunt, pulling hard at her nipples. When she finished, he told her to get on the bed on her hands and knees. Daisy crawled up and got into position.

"Is that enticing?" he asked them prisoners. They grunted and started yelling what they wanted to do to her. Bill raised his hand and told them to calm down.

"All in good time, all in good time. Now, the first thing I need to tell you is that you are all going to have your time with her. Her body will be yours to do with as you please.

"All of the sessions will be broadcast live and recorded. Now, our little honey here is a schoolteacher over in her native Britain, so it will be interesting to see how she reacts to the cameras."

I watched Daisy's reaction. She was horrified. She hadn't counted on this when she agreed to come over. Honestly, I hadn't either. It wasn't in my original plan because I couldn't afford to ruin her life. But, Bill could. He had the resources to move her in somewhere, keep her as one of his toys forever. He'd done it with other submissives, there was no reason to doubt he could do it with Daisy.

"We will provide a few basic tools, to each of you based on your own conviction history. You will be given a soundproof place to work with Daisy."

There was a murmur of approval through the group.

"You, Rogers, for example. Very simple tools for you. Leather straps, clamps, and sandpaper." The man gave an evil grin and yelled, "I'll give you a show, warden, I'll give you one hell of a fucking show!"

"And Williams," he said to one of the two women in the front row. "I know you don't need anything more than a simple length of wire, do you?"

"This cunt is going to be begging me to finish her off by the time I'm done playing with her," the tall, overweight blond woman growled.

"We're going to sequence you by lottery. Daisy is going to fuck each of you. A nice warm-up fuck, so you can get to know her. As she does, a timer on the wall behind you will be ticking. Your position in the lottery will be based on the location of the second hand on the dial. Not quite random but nothing you can really control either. You won't see the clock, so there'll be no cheating."

Rumbles of complaints but they died down quickly when Bill started talking again. I kept my eyes on one of the men in the second row. He was a huge, hulking man with a completely bald head. He had tattoos up and down his neck and one across his left cheek, just underneath the eye, that said "evil". He turned his head and caught me looking. His glance sent chills through me. I wondered what he'd done then realized it was better not to know.

"Starting Monday, we'll be giving her to two of you per night. You'll each have a full two hour session with her. I'll report back to the doctors on your progress.

"Fuck that, let's get this party started," one of them yelled. The others joined in and soon the room was filled with their demands.

Bill had the guards move the prisoners' chairs until they were in a full circle with Daisy kneeling in the middle. One by one, Bill made her crawl to them, unzip their orange jumpsuits, then either suck them until they came in her mouth or climb into their laps and fuck them face to face if they preferred. The two women, she licked and fingered until they got off. Both the men and women were allowed to slap and pinch her or pull her hair to their heart's content, but they couldn't bite, scratch, or otherwise break the skin. They enjoyed themselves regardless. We watched and listened

as they each told her what they'd been arrested and convicted of, and what they had in mind for her when they got their two hours.

By the middle of the session, she was completely limp and had to be carried from man to man, dropped into his lap and positioned like a rag doll. She gushed cum as she was lifted and carried and by the time she got to the last one, he didn't even want her. By consensus, they promised him first crack at her when their "treatment program" began on Monday evening.

I checked my watch. It was a little after four in the morning. Daisy had been at it almost non-stop for over fourteen hours. They carried her back to the mattress. Daisy just lay there, her breathing shallow, her body completely still. I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, stroked her hair.

"Does anyone else want to use her? I have to get her back home soon."

Two men from the back of the room stepped forward. The rest of them started filing back into the other room. Some of the couples went upstairs, the rest of them slowly drifted out the front door. The two men tried to use Daisy at the same time but she too tired and kept collapsing between them. They ended up taking turns in her ass, then everyone called it a night.


Daisy slept at Bills. I'd planned to take her back to the City, to the nice hotel, but Bill showed me an ingenious little device he had set up and I couldn't resist trying it.

Marco and David carried Daisy into one of the guest rooms and laid her flat on her back on the mattress. Bill opened a console in the wall and pushed a button. I heard a whirring noise and looked up. A thick sheet of plexiglas the size of the mattress was being lowered from the ceiling on four wires. When it was about an inch from Daisy, he stopped it. Another button and metal arms slid out from the bedposts and clamped the edges of plexiglass. The wires retracted.

"Now, the inventive part," Bill said, proud of his invention. He turned a knob and the head of the bed started to slowly rise. There was a pivot in the middle of the mattress, the feet were going into a recess in the floor. After just a few minutes, the mattress was vertical. Daisy slid down a few inches, her body sandwiched between the clear plastic and the mattress. She didn't wake but her body looked horribly contorted, one leg splayed to the left, knees in, the other nearly straight.

"Sweet dreams," Bill said. He led us out of the room and turned out the lights.

"I don't get it," David said. "I mean, it looks uncomfortable and all but..."

"Just wait. You'll find out in the morning." Bill pointed out four more guest rooms, each with its own toilet and shower, and we settled down for the night.


A knock on the door woke me. I got out of bed and walked across the room. There was a beautiful, brown haired woman in a classic French Maid getup standing outside my door. She held a silver tray with a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee.

"Breakfast is in the main dining room in fifteen minutes, Sir," she said. I stood staring, unsure what to do next.

"Shall I put the tray down for you, Sir?" she asked politely.

I nodded and she came in. There was a small table on the other side of the bed. She walked around and set the tray on it. When she bent over, I saw that she was wearing black panties. A nice touch, I'd expected Bill to be a "no panties on my women" type of host, and I was glad to be surprised. She turned and caught me staring. I might have blushed, I'm not sure.

When she let, I slammed down the orange juice then picked up the coffee and walked down the hall to the room we'd left Daisy in. She was still asleep, her body pressed up against the plexiglass, a trail of drool running from her mouth down the inside of the sheet and pooling on the floor underneath. There was another puddle underneath her, my eyes traced the path up the inside of her right leg. Ooze from all the men she'd had last night.

Her body had slid a full foot or more down the inside of the space between the mattress and the glass, her legs twisted at an even more extreme angle, her arms hanging limp at her sides. It didn't look comfortable at all, but she was sound asleep and probably didn't feel it.

Bill and Mark greeted me at breakfast, the others were still asleep. It was nearly nine but we had nowhere to be.

A feast was laid out: eggs, biscuits and gravy, sausage, ham and bacon, pancakes and a tray of assorted fruits. We followed it with coffee on his back porch. We were his in the hills of Marin and he had a great view of the Bay. We watched the boats and gulls, sipping coffee and chatting about last night.

"Well, it's about time to get started," Bill said. I looked at my watch. Ten o'clock. I asked, "do we have something scheduled?" Bill smiled. "It's a surprise."


Bill had two of the French Maids follow him into Daisy's room.

"This is not going to be pretty, you sure you want to watch?" he asked me. I saw the twinkle in his eye and it sent a shiver down my spine. There was an intensity to Bill's depravity that scared me. I nodded my head and he turned to the console again and started pressing buttons. The bed continued forward on its pivot until it was as a forty-five degree angle.

The two women stepped forward, one on either side of Daisy. They reached between the glass and the mattress and each took hold of one of her arms.

"You got her?" Bill asked. The women nodded. He pressed another button and the mattress began to slid slowly backward.

"Pick her up," Bill said. The women pulled her arms out straight and lifted her. Daisy's scream pierced the silence of the room like an explosion. They let go and she slid down the plexiglass into a bundle on the floor, her arms and legs twisted and pointing in seemingly impossible directions. Bill pressed another button and the plexiglass returned to its spot on the ceiling.

"Daisy, stand up," Bill said. She didn't move.

"Daisy!" he yelled. "Stand up."

I watched as Daisy moved her body, sliding an arm here, a leg there, but she couldn't do much more than flop around on the floor.

Bill turned to me. "I worked on that quite a while." I asked him how it worked and he replied, "the key is to give them enough sleep that their body and mind doesn't break down, but not enough to really refresh them. Combine that with an impossible sleeping position and you have ... " he pointed at Daisy, "...this."

"What, stiff muscles?" I asked, a little perplexed.

"No, much worse than that." He turned to Daisy. "Daisy! Up!"

She moved her right leg again but gave a little yelp and jerked it back in.

"Cramps. After last night, her muscles were loose and fatigued. That, combined with the position she slept in, and she's probably got cramps in half her arm and legs muscles."

I leaned closer and shivered. You could almost see the muscles knotted under the skin of her calves, her forearms, her thighs and her upper arms. The pain must have been intense and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. There was no one to beg, her own body was doing this.

"I want to fuck her," Mark grunted. I was a little stunned until I saw him pick her up and plant her on his cock. He sat on the edge of the bed and held her hips tight. She jerked and squirmed trying to find a position that didn't hurt. Mark moaned and pumped, describing for us how her insides were twitching with each move of her legs. After about ten minutes, he had the French Maid women step up and take Daisy's arms.

"On the count of three, I want you to pull them straight out to the sides,"

Mark told them. It was one of the first times I heard Daisy begging them to stop. "One..." She shook her head hard from side to side, crying "stop, no, please, no..." "Two..." She screamed loud now, Mark pushed his hand over her mouth. "Three." The women pulled and I saw Daisy's body stiffen, her back arching high, her legs flailing. Mark screamed something and shot his wad into her cunt, pulling her hard against him.

When he was done, he motioned and the women let Daisy go. She collapsed on his chest, legs still moving against her will. "Leave her here," he said. "I'm going to have another go at her." He reached with his hands and grabbed her knees, pulled her legs upward and she screamed again as the knotted muscles were pulled in yet another different direction. Mark moaned and started pumping hard. She tried to raise her arms to hit him but couldn't control them and they flailed in the air. He took a lot longer to cum this time, moving her legs back and forth, in small and large circles, each change in motion accompanied by a new pitch in her screaming.

"I'm done," Mark announced. He lifted Daisy off his cock and dropped her on the mattress. She rolled back and forth, moaning.

"Have her read in fifteen minute," Bill told the two women. They just nodded.


We spent the rest of that day driving through small towns up around Santa Rosa. Bill seemed to know every deviate from Marin to the Oregon state line and we visited half of them.

The setup was always the same. We would arrive at a bar on the outskirts of a small town. There would be twenty-five or thirty people there, all men and not one you'd want dating your daughter. A variety of drunks, perverts and derelicts, most of them overweight and smelly, their clothes dirty and all drunk.

Daisy would come in dressed in the skankiest little outfit I'd ever seen: fence net stockings, knee high boots, leather hot pants and a cutoff t-shirt top with "Touch These" written across the front. Bill would walk in and everyone raised their bottles in a toast, asking, "what you got for us this time?"

Bill would set up a karaoke machine, then lead Daisy to the front of the room and hand her the microphone. The crowd politely clapped and cheered. The first time, I was a little confused what was going on but it became very clear once she got started. The first song was "Let's Get Physical". About thirty seconds into the song, Bill stepped onstage and whispered something in her ear then restarted the machine. This time, Daisy played it to the hilt, grinding her hips and touching herself all through the song. Bill went around the room handing out numbers to the men.

When the first song was done, everyone cheered and hollered. Bill got onstage and held up his hand. The room quieted down. "Numbers one through five," he said into the microphone. "Raise your hands, one through five." Five men raised hands and he motioned for them to follow him and Daisy down the hall to the stockroom. The juke box started up and blasted out a rock and roll tune and everyone went back to their drinking.

The first men returned and started spreading the word about the twisted little skank in the stockroom who would do them anyway they wanted, one at a time or in pairs and threes, any hole, anyway.

When Daisy finally came back out, she was wearing one of the men's t-shirts and her boots. I nodded as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled at the crowd. Very evocative move. Bill started the second song, "Do You Think I'm Sexy." She fucked numbers six through ten and this time came back in the boots and a pair of yellowed men's underwear. She looked nervous this time. Bill stayed on stage with her and pressed the buttons on the karaoke machine.

"Hit Me Baby, One More Time" started up. As Daisy purred her way through the first verse, Bill walked offstage. He walked past me and asked "how do you like it?" I just smiled. He went to the booth where David and the others were sitting and returned just before the chorus with a paddle in his hand. When she got to the line "Hit me", he did. The men went wild. Daisy bent over next time, pushing her ass high for Bill, ad-libbing "again, harder" between the lines.

After numbers eleven through fifteen fucked her, she came back naked and dripping cum and sweat. Sixteen through twenty fucked her after "More, More, More" and the last five fucked her after the Stones' "Satisfaction".

This went on at town after town up and down Highway 101 from noon till midnight when we pulled back into Bill's place in Marin. When we stopped for lunch and dinner, Daisy got a break from singing. At lunchtime, we tied her face-front around a tree out back of the restaurant and let the staff have at her while we ate. Dinnertime was different. We were back in town so we had to be more inventive. We dressed Daisy in a nice silvery outfit, a short skirt and heels, and had her put on a little masturbation show in the bar. The manager stationed her on a stool at the end of the hallway past the restrooms. Bill gave her a vibrator and told her to keep playing with herself through the meal. Anyone who went down the hall was free to watch her but they couldn't touch her. I thought that was a nice touch, Bill being subtle.

We took our time and she spent forty-five minutes back there. When we went to get her, she was drained and exhausted, shaking and muttering. It must have hurt after that long and her body showed it. She was quivering like a leaf in a high wind but didn't take the thing away from her crotch.

Daisy is an incredibly obedient little thing.

-- end of Chapter 3

Rating: 89%, Read 29186 times, Posted Sep 08, 2011

Fiction | BDSM, Cruelty, Domination, Extreme, Humiliation, Sado-Masochism, Slavery, Submission


Login to join the discussion