The Black Widow
“Oh what a web we weave”
Date: 6/18/04
Mars Lovely (marslovely@yahoo.com)

NOTE: The following story contains elements of an adult nature, and those less than 18 years of age, or those who are offended by bondage, non-consensual sex, rape and torture should read no further. The characters herein are the property of Marvel Comics. Despite the fact that we all know Super Heroines all secretly desired each other in hot and sexy situations, there won’t be any of that stuff here.

Natasha glared at the oddly shaped penis that was crudely waved in front of her face. There were some parts of her job she hated, and there were some parts of her job she REALLY hated. Six months of deep cover could be ruined if she didn’t do something fast. Boris here was the best connection between her and the Big Man. She knew that there was no way to get close to the elusive crime lord without going through him and it was clear that Boris expected all the girls to ‘audition’ if they wanted into the boss’ private party. She had tried for months to get a lead on the Big Man, or this latest incarnation of the villain to no avail. Whoever was behind the mask this time was much more competent then his predecessors.

The Black Widow had used all the techniques that the Russian Intelligence Agency had taught her, including the scare tactics from the KGB days. No one knew the details of the Big Man’s organization or else she would already have them. Subterfuge became the plan. She had used her remaining contacts, the ones not burned by her transition from Russian Intelligence to free lance work, to sneak back into the motherland. Once there, she spent weeks creating her identity of Natasha Korvinov, unemployed technician. From there it had been simple enough to find a Russian Coyote to ‘facilitate’ her immigration to the United States via Big Man’s human trade operations. Though she knew that the promises of a good job and a place to live were nothing but empty promises, she traveled with sixteen other girls thinking they were on the fast track to the American Dream. As expected the legitimate jobs evaporated. The housing was a squalid apartment building with locked steel doors that were always guarded.

The bigger or ugly women became house keepers or night janitors for the Big Man’s businesses. They paid most of their menial paychecks for the privilege of living in tenement slum and were terrified into accepting it as the only way Russians could live in the U.S.A. The younger, more attractive girls went straight to his clubs. They worked double shifts as waitresses during the day and cocktail waitresses at night to learn the system and wear them down. The girls were all sleep deprived and exhausted when they were introduced to the strip clubs. The strippers lived on the floor with heat and running water. They made so much more money that even after their keepers took their share, there was enough left over to pay towards the travel expenses they owed for coming over to this hell. The other girls came to envy them.

Backstage the dancers would chide at the other girls willing to work so hard because they were to shy to dance. “C’mon, it’s so much better up on stage – the men can’t touch you unless you pick them!” Natasha and all the girls bore the bruises of the rough pinches and open handed smacks on their backsides. It was all the Black Widow could do not to retaliate and punch or kick the drunken bastards who pawed at her night after night. Each spilled drink or glass that was dropped and broken was added to their debt. Natasha noticed a pattern forming around this. One of the bouncers would order drinks for a table. The girl delivering the drinks would be pawed and pinched till the tray would crash to the ground. Pulled aside the boss would scream and shout at the dazed and confused girl till she broke down in tears. A few of the dancers would come along and retrieve the girl, taking her back stage. The crying girl would emerge on stage later for her first night as a dancer. If she were any good, by the time they closed the club, whatever meager belongings she had would be moved to the dancer’s floor.

If she were bad, she spends the night circulating the back tables in her g-string outfit. Obviously drugged, the girl would wiggle and follow simple orders shouted by the patrons, while having dollars shoved in her panties or bra. Late in the night, the bouncers turned a blind eye on the back tables and it got worse. The men would pull the outfits loose or off completely. So stupefied by the drugs the girl would continue on as she was manhandled all over her body. She would be pulled into a corner and raped by as many men as she withstand before collapsing. Natasha raged inside, wanting to stop this, but knew that the only way to really do so was to get to the Big Man. “One day soon,” she thought, “no other girl would have to endure this particular torture.”

The nights went on like this, a girl would become fatigued enough to attract a boss’s eye and set the wheels in motion. Natasha noticed that the turn over was quick. The waitresses became dancers as new girls joined the floor. The dancers would go as well, but she wasn’t sure where just yet. The manager bragged about how those girls had gone on to the better clubs where they could make real money. Porno or prostitution were her best guesses, there was a chance that they were dead, too. The illusion, however, was there for the other girls, that despite being fondled or raped, that becoming a dancer could free them. As the last remaining girl brought in from her group, she knew it was to be her turn tonight. Being in better condition then the others, Natasha wasn’t as worn down. Tonight she made sure to spill a drink while the manager was watching. She acted befuddled and let her shoulders sag as if exhausted.

Finally the bartender handed her a heavy load of drinks and sent her to a front table, near the dance floor. Hoisting the tray up, she weaved her way through the crowd. As she approached the table, she noticed the dancer kneeling on the stage. She had come in with Natasha, though they never spoke. Tall and thin, her long black hair contrasted with her pale skin. She ran her hands along the inside of her thighs and then cupped her small perky breasts while licking her lips. She locked her dark eyes on Natasha’s as she pulled a finger from her mouth and tickled her clit. The table went wild and the men jumped to their feet shouting at her for more. Caught off guard, Natasha lost control of the tray and it bounced off the stage a crashed to the ground. The shattering glass brought a smirk to the manager’s harsh face.

Natasha prepared herself to cry and plead for forgiveness, to beg for any chance to make it up. Before she could crouch to the ground to clean the glass, one of the men at the table shoved her from behind. Knocked into the stage, she paused to stifle her urge to lash out at the idiot. She lingered stage side for a moment to composing herself. Suddenly, the dancer was in front of her. Her legs spread wide for a second before clasping them around the Widow’s head. Shocked, Natasha pulled back to free herself, but the dancer had the leverage to keep her head trapped. Over the din of the cheering crowd she heard “Kiss me and I’ll let you go…”

Repulsed, Natasha struggled against her captor. The chanting mob, it must have looked like a vigorous tongue lashing as the shouted “Suck her cunt, suck her cunt!” Unable to free her head, Natasha panicked as she felt the tiny skirt she wore being pulled up. Forced to wear a thong like all the girls, her ass was completely exposed to the audience. Several hands were slapping and grabbing her.

“Enough” she thought, jamming her thumbs into the dancer’s ribs and breaking free. Whirling around, she slapped the hands away from her. Bastard was what she wanted to yell as she broke noses and fingers and gouged eyes. Years of training hid her rage with mercurial speed, so she whimpered and cowered away from the table and the stage when she bumped into the bouncer.

His meaty hand nearly circled her throat. Lifting her off her feet, the bouncer brought her close to his head, “Clean the mess and get in the office” he snarled. He dropped her to the floor in a puddle of spilt drinks and the indescribable filth that covers bars floors. Recovering the tray, she collected the glasses and the larger broken pieces. “OK, moving closer to the Big Man.”

She continued the terrified little girl image as she left the tray at the desk and went backstage to the office. The bouncer stood outside the door and opened as she approached. Stepping inside, Natasha immediately sized up the room. The manager stood along side his desk, while another man sat at it. The new man’s suit was high end office the rack, unlike the manager’s dirty old polyester suit. “This might be something,” she thought, “definitely a bigger fish” She heard the floor creak and heard grunt as the bouncer punched her hard in the middle of the back. Even knowing it was coming, the forced knocked the wind out of her and sent here sailing across the room. She turned to land, but realized any acrobatic flips would arouse suspicion, so she stumbled to the ground. Looking up, she held her hands up to weakly defend herself.

“See Boris, she’s a tough little cookie!” The manager pointed out gladly to his boss. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he jerked her towards the desk, “And red hair…”

With a surprisingly gentle grip, he grabbed her chin. “Yes, red hair is nice. Does she dance too?”

“Not yet, but she would have started tonight, had she not been exactly what you wanted.”

“Well, we will see how perfect she is…” He signaled the bouncer, who locked the door and drew a blind over the window. He opened a cabinet drawer and pulled out a gun. Glancing around the room, she watched the manager pull a small gun out from inside his jacket.

“Oh crap” the Widow thought.

Unbuckling his paints, he dropped them to the floor. Protruding from his boxers was a curiously bent penis. It was small and sharply hooked, as if it had a weight hanging from the end of it. Worst of all it was inches from her face and the smells wafted out from his sweaty crotch was stomach-turning. She didn’t need to look to know both guns were pointed at her. “You better at sucking cock,” he asked, “or getting your face fucked?”

The Widow didn’t need to fake revulsion when she pulled back. Putting that filthy thing in her mouth was the only option at this time. Even if she was willing to waste the last few months her life and ruin her best chance at stopping the Big Man, she doubted she could take out two gunmen, on opposite sides of the room. She could use Boris as a shield, but it would be a challenging and very dangerous. The weeks of hard work, little food and sleep depravation had taken their toll on her. Though better off then the other girls who eventually turned to the cocaine and other drugs to keep up with their demanding schedules, she was not in her top form, physically or mentally.

Opening her mouth, she breathed deeply and kissed Boris’ crippled little solider. It tasted even worse then it smelled. She slowly worked it deeper in her mouth. The strange angle of the head made it push down on her tongue as she slid her face closer to his curly black mass of pubic hair.

“C’mon bitch” Boris grunted “You need to do a whole lot better then that. As much as she hated the thought of servicing this scumbag, she knew she could do better then this guy would ever have. The KGB Seduction Program was still academy training for Russian Intelligence. Pushing him back to the chair, Boris plopped into the seat with a surprised grin on his face. Natasha ran her tongue around the bent head and began pumped the shaft with her hand.

Feigning broken English, Natasha looked up at him while she sucked him like a lollipop. “Mmm…I suck good? Yes?”

Boris raised his hand to slap her, but she quickly looked down and sunk her mouth deep around his cock again and sucking and licking with all her skills. Slowing she kept her head down, “I need to make this work, if this is an audition of sorts, then I need get this part.” Raising her hand behind her head, she grabbed her own hair and mimed pushing her head deeper.

“If you face fuck me too, I dance?”

Boris grabbed her head and began slamming his cock into her mouth. “Dance…I think you might be…wasted…danc…ing…in…a…shit!” He shot a spurt of stringy spunk into her mouth. “Ugh, shit house like this place, no offense.” He nodded to the manager. “You would be better off in a private club honey.” Boris looked at the softening cock, as a final pearl colored drop collected at the tip. Natasha quickly leaned in and licked the glob away. Still looking down, she stood, brushing off her knees and backing away.

Natasha, though feeling sick to her stomach, pushed on with the act. “If I..uh.. face fuck you all, I dance now?”

“Come here” Boris commanded her.

“You…more?” She asked reaching for his belt. The slap actually caught her off guard. She spun around and dropped down on one knee.

“Get up!”

Rubbing her check, the Widow got back up. Sniffling and shying her red cheek away from Boris, she asked “No more? I no dance?” She saw the next slap coming and didn’t flinch. This guy wants to slaps me around, I better be a good at taking it. Instead of falling, Natasha took the hit and slowly turned her face back, still looking down.

“Oh yes, she looks very promising! The Big Man might like to meet this one. See how she takes it?” Boris seemed genuinely impressed by the Widow’s resilience and compliance. “Does she speak much English?”

The manager holstered his gun. “Just enough to take the drink orders, but she’s got eyes, always watches what’s going on. She understands a lot more then she says.”

Boris stood in front of Natasha. He lifted her chin up and looked in her eyes. When she looked away, he turned her chin to keep eye contact. “Do you understand us?”

“I…uh…I get new job now, yes?” she stuttered keeping her tone low with a touch of happiness. “You say I good enough for you? I understand you right?”

“You got the idea Red, close enough. You got family back in Russia? Anyone you want to call and tell them the good news?”

The Widow sensed the trap. They knew she hadn’t any family when they imported her, but Boris was checking to see if she had any connections. “Nyet” she answered.

“You have any boyfriends? You know anyone since you got here?”

“Nyet, just uhm…the girls working here, but we uhm do not get uhm friends.”

“OK Red. Get her stuff, she’ll ride with me.”

Excellent, the Widow thought, I might make it to the Big Man faster then I hoped.

The bouncer left the room, apparently to make the call to gather her meager belongings. The manager and Boris exchanged some quiet words, occasionally looking at her. The Widow stayed motionless, staring at the floor until Boris snapped his fingers and pointed at her, and then at the floor near his feet. She quickly walked over. He pointed down again. Natasha bent over and knelt down near his feet; looking up briefly she saw his smirk before looking down again.

“She does learn quickly,” the manager stated pocketing an envelope he received from Boris. Turning he pulled something from a cabinet drawer and handed it to Boris.

Crouching along side her, Boris held it up for her to see. She allowed a brief flash of shock to register on her face. It was a black leather chocker, thick and wide with a large buckle and O-ring fixture. “Crap” she thought as he worked it under her hair and attached it to her throat. “Sadism and bondage…”

From his pocket, Boris pulled a long leash and hooked it to her collar. Wrapping it around his knuckles, he stood and gave a tug on it, pulling her off balance. Walking towards the back door, she was forced to scamper along like a dog, trying to keep up with its master. The manager watched, from this angle most of her ass was exposed. “Boris,” he called to catch his attention before he left, “the outfit? I’ve got another one starting tonight about her size…”

“Of course,” Boris answered. Pulling her upright by the leash, he barked at her to strip. Somewhat befuddled, Natasha watched him for a second before undoing the bar apron and unbuttoning her shirt. Kicking off the shoes, she slide out of the min-skirt and offered them to the manager. Cautiously standing, she turned towards Boris, left only with a black bra and thong. Both men stared coldly at her. Reaching behind she unclasped her bra and pulled it off, handing it to him as she tried to cover her pendulous breasts.

They both stared at her still, not as coldly, but with an unspoken demand. “Damn it” she thought, “the things I do for this job! I am going to nail the Big Man and these two so hard they’ll be stripping for their cell mates soon enough!” She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thong, and with a little stage flourish, worked them down over her hips. Dropping them to the floor, she kicked them up into the manager’s face like a pro.

“I dancer now?” she asked, trying to seem happy about the situation.

Boris laughed watching the manager sniff at the cloth as it slides off his bald head. “You are a special dancer now Red, a very special dancer.” Tugging the leash he led her out the back door into the alleyway.

Natasha tip toed through the slushy snow and ice, littered with debris from the club. Though a mild night, it was still December in NYC and very cold to her naked skin. Though he stopped at the back of the car, she continued around towards the door, anxious to get out of the cold. A sharp yank on the leash caused her to slip and fall to the dirty wet street. The icy water splashed over her exposed skin. Jumping back to her feet she tried wiping the slush from her as she shivered uncontrollably. A second jerk on the leash brought her to her knees again. Pulling herself up she looked at Boris in a confused manner, trying hard to resist the urge to fight back.

Opening the trunk, he pointed into it. “You do not ride in the car Red. You are now property.” He emphasized the word with another tug on her leash. The trunk was lined with a thin blanket stretched over the spare tire. Though it was large enough to accommodate her easily, she thought, this was not going to be a comfortable ride. Wrapping herself in the course blanket, Natasha positioned herself as best she could while Boris closed the hood.

The trunk was dark and cold. Not as cold as being outside, but wet as she was, she couldn’t stop shaking. Occasionally the red light from the brakes would light the area, and she took that chance to take stock of the situation. Her training kicked in once again, as she counted the number of turns the car took and the number of times it stopped, presumably for red lights. She could her Boris talking on a cell phone from inside the car, but couldn’t make out the conversation. Natasha began rubbing her hands and feet against each other, trying to keep warm. The ride went on for hours, with her trying to remain awake and focused, but she was sure that she lost count of turns and stops before they got on what must have been the Interstate.

After another hour or so of driving, the road became rougher and she was jostled about in the trunk. “We must be getting closer” she thought recognizing that they had left the Interstate and were again on secondary roads. She didn’t hear any other vehicles passing them either. “We must be in the country now.”

Finally, after several more hours, the car stopped and the engine was turned off. Natasha heard the driver get out and open the door for Boris. Feigning sleep, she waited for him to come and open the trunk. Listening carefully, she heard them walk away, their shoes scrapping on the icy ground. “Shit! They aren’t coming for me!” She wondered how much longer she could stand the cold with so little protection from it. Natasha quickly focused her mind on other things. Thinking back, she tried to remember previous fights, other close calls, anything to keep her mind off of the numbing cold. Breathing into her hands, the Widow pulled herself into as tight a fetal ball as she could to conserve body heat. Eventually, she heard the crunch of feet walking through the snow. Almost unconscious, she blinked as the bluish light of early morning flooded the confined space, and Boris’ grinning face looked down at her.

“Did you have a nice nap Red?” He asked rhetorically. She tried to climb out of the trunk, but her half frozen limbs wouldn’t respond. Cramped and shivering, she clung to Boris as he hefted her out into the brutally cold air. Looking around, all Natasha could see was snow covered fields. There were evergreens and leafless dead looking trees in the distance, and a single road that winding along out of sight. Unable to stand alone, Boris cradled her in his arms and made his way up a trail to a garage built into the hill under the main house. As the heat of the room washed over her, her checks and extremities throbbed. Her nose and cheeks were a bright red and her fingers and toes felt impossibly swollen. Her stomach rumbled. It had now been an entire day since she had last eaten.

Making his way past the cars in the garage, Boris carried her to a secured door in the back. Standing her along side it, she leaned against the wall while he pressed a series of buttons to unlock it. “No peeking!” He joked to himself as the Widow was barely able to keep her eyes open, let alone watch him press in the code. The room was very warm. Adjacent to it was furnace and water heater for the main house. There was a steel cot bolted to the floor and wall, which Boris sat her down on. Attached to the leg of the bed was a steel chain which he locked to her ankle with a heavy padlock.

“This is your kennel Red.” He announced, sweeping his arm as it were a palace. The windows were covered with a metal mesh and every item in the place was either bolted down, or out of reach from her short chain. To the right of the bed there was a small splash sink, large for a sink, but too small to be considered a tub. A toilet sat on the other side. Natasha took in all he said, but the words were jumbled in her fevered mind. Mounted in the far corner was a television set, well beyond her reach. He walked over and turned it on to a flickering static screen. He said something about some training and moved on. Pointing to the ceiling, she recognized the half circle orb of a surveillance camera. He said something that made him chuckle, but she just couldn’t understand him through the buzzing in her ears. Collecting himself, he walked back across the room, leaving her alone. Falling over on to the bed, Natasha passed into a dreamless sleep.

Some time later she woke. Lying still, Natasha listened for any sounds in the room. There was nothing but the whirling and clicks as the furnace kicked in. The room was almost unbearably hot at this point. Cracking one eye lid, she scanned the room: bed, sink, toilet, window, camera, and television were it. Dry concrete floor continued into the furnace room. She guessed about seven foot of chain attached to her, and even with her outstretched body, it would not have been enough to get to the door or the furnace room. No pillow or blankets were on the bed, just a thin mattress that was stitched right to the steel frame. The only thing mobile in the room seemed to be the roll of paper that sat on the floor near the toilet. All and all, not much worse then the room she had been living in for the last few months.

Natasha took personal stock next. She gently flexed her fingers and toes. Though still swollen, she could move them. Her arms and legs were no longer knotted and cramped. She was ravenously hungry and cotton mouth dry. With the exception of the collar and the ankle chain, she was still naked. “Well, this isn’t the worst way I have ever woken up before,” she kidded herself. Doubt began to cover her thoughts. Have I gotten in too deep here, she wondered. No one would know she was gone, and it would be a very long time before anyone thought to look for her. “No!” she thought, casting away the negative ideas, “I will stop the Big Man so no other woman will have to go through this torture. Slowly sitting up, Natasha moved to the sink and ran the water. Cupping it, she drank as much as she could to quench her thirst.

As she drank, she noticed the television now played an image of her. She could tell from the angle, it must have be a closed circuit from the camera above. The grainy black and white image was unflattering. The screen went blank for a moment before flashing the words “Lesson One” across it. The image changed to another girl sitting in this same room. She too was naked and chained. When the door opened and a man entered, she immediately dropped to the floor as if praying to him.

“Correct” flashed on the screen, in English and Russian, as a monotone voice said the word in the corresponding language.

The image changed to a different girl, who when the man entered, she lunged at him. She was immediately swatted aside. The man knelt over her, pinning her arms alongside her struggling body and viciously slapped her face while she turned and twisted, feebly tried to fend off the blows. “Incorrect” the television announced again in both languages, “You will respect and honor all men. You are only alive to pleasure them.” The man rolled her over began spanking her ass till she begged in Russian for him to stop.

The image returned to the first woman kissing the shoes of her visitor. As he sat on the edge of her bed, she made her way up his leg, rubbing her cheek against his pant legs before planting her face in his lap. She opened the fly of his pants and freed his cock. Lavishing kisses she sucked on the purple head, and stroked it gently. She rubbed it across her face with an obvious glee in between bouts of furiously deep-throating the meat. “You are meant only to pleasure men. You have no other reason to live except to service all the men around you.” The screen flickered as the words were spoken and appeared on it.

Natasha tried to look away, but was drawn to watch this woman suck on the man’s balls while stroking the cock-head gently. The words echoed in her head, as she watched the film roll on. The image changed again, the other woman, who had been rather homely to start with, had fading bruises on her face. She resisted the man thrusting his hard penis at her. Grabbing to fistfuls of hair he forced her head towards his lap. With an insane look in her eye, she bites the man’s leg drawing blood. Turning, she tried to bite his dick when he threw her back by yanking her hair. The man laid into her with clenched fists, beating her till she laid still, breathing in ragged gasps and crying. “Punishment will match your crime. You may never strike a man or try to injure him.”

“Know your position as a man’s slave,” the voice intoned with an upbeat pitch, like a car commercial, “and your life will be filled with pleasure.” The first woman was now cradled between two men in a silk sheeted bed. The first man was driving his cock into her from behind while she sucked the second man’s dick so that her nose was buried in his pubic hairs. She smiled, as best she could with a mouthful of penis, winked into the camera and gave a thumbs-up to the audience. Natasha caught herself smiling and thinking “Good work!”

The next shot showed the other woman, kneeling in the snow, tied over the low railing of a fence. Both her hands were tied, stretched out along the fence. Her legs were tied into a kneeling position and secured to the fence as well. The camera showed a large dog, a Doberman Pincher approach her from behind. First it sniffed at her as she wiggled vainly trying to drive it away. It nipped at her legs and the side of her breast for a minute and finally jumped on her back to mount her. The dog clamped its jaws around her neck as its slimy pink member protruded out. Thrusting madly, it penetrated her anus, causing the half conscious girl to silently scream on the screen. A second dog approached and lifting its leg, it began to piss on her upturned face, splashing into her open eyes and mouth. “You are an animal.” The voice informed her,” behave well and you will live with your masters. If you refuse to learn your position, you will be cast out with the other beasts.” Repulsed by the images of the dog rape, Natasha chided herself to behave. The screen returned to the close circuit image of her sitting naked. The voice repeated itself in a loop “You are an animal. You will serve men. You are an animal”

On some level in her mind, Natasha knew there was a subliminal conditioning happening to her. The screen flashed images that her conscious mind couldn’t record or respond to, but her unconscious mind could see. Inaudible commands buffeted her ears under the strong and controlling tone of the voice that reminded her that she was nothing but an animal, that she should service all men. She struggled against the notion of being an animal as the lights dimmed, but the sleep and food depravation was sapping her will.. She sat in the dark as the whole video began to cycle over and over again. It showed her watching it, then the lesson on servicing men and the punishments for not servicing them correctly. All the while, stressing to her that she was nothing but an animal. Even when she closed her eyes and tried not to think about how hungry she was, the voices crept into her skull.

“You are an animal. You will serve men. You are an animal”

At some point she must have fallen asleep, because she realized she was waking up. Sitting up, she stretched, feeling much better for the rest. Looking around the room, nothing had changed except the television was again a snowy static screen. Drinking more water from the sink, Natasha tried to calm her rumbling stomach. She milled about the area her chain would allow her before returning to the bed. She stared out the small window, but the glazed glass behind the steel mesh was nothing but a dull light. “I guess it is daytime now.”

She watched the screen for a while. The chaotic pattern was the only motion in the room, and drew her attention, like a moth to a flame. Natasha tried to focus her attention and plan for her next steps. How she should handle Boris when he returned for her, but the relentless white noise of the flickering screen would distract her. The hum of the furnace pumping out the hot dry air was relaxing, while the television was distracting. Lying in bed, she had no idea how much time was passing. The light outside the window slowing faded to dark. After the window grew dark, the room would slowly dim as well. She was hardly aware of it. When it grew lighter in the window again, so would the room. She wondered if it really could have been a whole another day. She drank again from the sink and then relieved herself in the toilet, all the while watching the screen. Any second now it could start up again. Despite it being a tool to bend her will, Natasha found herself longing for anything to add meaning to the passage of time.

Three more cycles of light and darkness passed before real images appeared on the screen again. “Lesson Two” flashed on the screen.

A different woman, a tall black woman lay on the floor, curled in a ball by the side of the bed sleeping. The scene stayed on her, peacefully resting. Eventually, she woke and rose up to her hands and knees. Behind her sat two bowls, food and water in dog bowls. Bending her arms she gracefully lowered her lips to the water to drink. Sniffing at the food, she lapped at it and began to eat the chunky gruel. When she finished half of it she stopped. She stood at the sink and rinsed her face clean before settling back down on the floor. Natasha stared, drooling at the dog food left in the bowl. She was so very hungry that even the dog food looked appealing. “They say that dog food is actually designed to smell and taste good for the owners” she thought to herself, rationalizing her lust for it.

The next image showed another woman, rather ugly with some visible facial hair and bad teeth. She must have been in bad shape to start with, Natasha noticed from the flabbiness on her arms and legs. Her breasts sagged like half empty water balloons and her ass was dimpled from cellulite. Natasha looked over herself, feeling glad that though weak, she still was in much better shape. The bowls under her bed were empty and dry. The ugly woman slowly roused herself and yelled, shaking her fist at the camera.

Returning to the black woman, Natasha watched as she bathed herself in the sink. She had soap and a washcloth with she used to clean her body and wash her hair. The Widow felt her own hair, oily and knotted as it was. She envied the woman. Skipping ahead, the television displayed her exercising. Push ups, jumping jacks, sit ups, all activities she could do while chained to the bed. She was smiling as she worked out, her tits jostling as she jumped clapping her hind above her head. When she finished, she returned to her hand and knees position to eat a little more of her chow. Going back to the sink, she rinsed her face, taking care to brush her teeth with her finger and remove any remaining food. The door opened behind her and she immediately dropped to the floor, bowing to the man who entered.

He stroked her hair as she hugged his leg. Pointing to the bed, she followed his commands and knelt on its edge, presenting her well curved backside to him. The camera closed in on her moist snatch, as she reached between her legs to pull the lips wide for him as he opened his fly and began to jerk on his growing shaft. She bounced her hips, rocking them back and forth in eager expectation while he prepared himself. Natasha felt aroused herself, watching the man massage his cock. She reached down and stroked the red hair in her crotch as he entered her from behind, slapping her ass on each thrust. The black woman pushed back to meet each shove and slap, obviously enticed and enjoying it.

The message was clear enough. Natasha slid off the cot to the floor. She still toyed with her pubic hair as the warm sensation inside her grew. As he pulled out of her dark snatch, the woman spun around to receive the spurt of cum into her face. Licking the shaft and fondling his balls, she milked the last of his spunk out, swallowing it. When it was clean, she moved to the foot of the bed. The man relaxed, sprawling out on the cot. She lay beside him, her head resting in his lap, gently kissing his flaccid penis till he fell asleep. Slowly and gently, she returned to the floor. Collecting the pearls of cum that glistened on her cheeks with her fingers, she sucked them clean. Drinking a little water, she settled down to her spot and closed her eyes. The man’s hand rested on her hip after a soft pat.

Natasha felt warmth in her heart. That girl was loved. She had a function which she did well and was rewarded for it. The ugly bitch lay in her own filth starving for her arrogance. This woman had food and was clean.

“You are an animal. You will serve men. You are an animal.” The recording continued on, barely audible to Natasha as she moved to the sink. She didn’t have soap or a cloth but she did her best to clean herself up, rinsing her hair, and finger brushing her teeth. Wringing the water from her hair, as sat on the edge of the cot, but quickly moved to the floor where she belonged. Running her fingers through her hair, she worked out as many knots as she could. The lights dimmed and she immediately placed her head to the floor and slept. She dreamt it was her servicing the man and receiving the gentle pat for a job well done.

The aroma of the food woke Natasha. The lights grew gradually as she sat up and stretched. Much to her great surprise, she found sleeping on the concrete floor seemed more comfortable then the cot. She felt more relaxed and none of her muscled ached. Turning, her heart jumped when she spotted the two silver bowls sitting just under the cot. Lounging towards it, she caught herself. “Animal or not,” she thought, “dignity and grace.” Lowering her face she tried to adjust to the awkwardness of eating without her hands. She had to either bury her nose or chin into the gruel in order to get her mouth to it. She could imagine the ugly bitch using her hands to spoon it into her mouth or picking up the bowl and pouring it in. She remembered though that the black girl had managed it. Mimicking the position she had taken, Natasha rested her forearms on either side of the bowl to steady it and used her tongue to arrange the chunks against the edge so she could scope them in her mouth.

Though bland and mushy, she was overwhelmed just to eat anything. It was a constant struggle to keep from shoving her face into the meaty gruel. Though still ravenous, Natasha stopped herself from eating the whole bowl. One hand she realized she should ration it out because she didn’t know when her next meal would arrive, on the other, the video had made it clear that she wasn’t expected to eat it all. Sitting up, she looked at the half empty bowl longingly, but went to the water bowl to wash her meal down. The water had a funny taste to it, and seemed thick for water, more like a loose gelatin. Disregarding the warnings that her mind try to remember, she drank most of the liquid which felt warm and relaxing in her stomach. The hunger faded quickly after drinking her full.

The metal chain dragged behind her as she went to the sink. A washcloth and soap sat neatly on the rim for her. Running the water, she lathered up the cloth and cleaned herself. Washing her armpits, she was happy to note that the fine hairs there, and along her legs, were barely noticeable. She didn’t imagine that a razor would appear any time soon, but at least she wouldn’t look unshaven for several more days.

She kept a simple work out regimen, first, because she didn’t want to reveal any special knowledge and secondly because she was still weak. She felt bad keeping secrets from whoever was watching her, but it seemed like an important thing to do for some reason she could scarcely remember. She returned to the sink to rinse the perspiration from her body. Though she was proud of her well toned body; she had never been one to show off her nudity. “Sure,” she thought, “a tight vinyl jumpsuit like her Black Widow costume was hardly a demure outfit”, but now having spent so long naked, it felt like the right way to be. She was an animal, the voice buzzed ever present in her mind. She would serve men, and being naked and beautiful was the best way to start.

She sat in rapt attention as “Lesson Three” flashed on the screen.

“Your pain pleasures men.”

An Oriental girl lay across the lap of a much larger man. Her naked ass was red with hand prints as he paddled her. Each smack made her jump revealing his large cock rubbing against her hip. The camera changed to the black woman again. She leaned against the foot board of a huge dark wood bed, hands tied to the ornate columns. She wore only a ball gag across her mouth, and rolled her head in an orgasmic fashion. Behind her, two men stood on either side. Each took turns lashing her, one with a riding crop, and the other with a wooden paddle. Her ass muscles shuddered from the blows that left a lash or welt, but for every strike, she rose up on her toes to meet it. From the bed, a third man pulled her forward enough that her heavy breasts hung over the wood. Holding metal spring clamps for the camera to see, he fastened the sharp teeth of the cruel device to her nipples. Behind the gag, she tried to scream but was muffled. He fondling her tits, pulling on the clamps as they dug into her rock hard nipples, then produced his stiff member for her. Unable to suck it due to the ball gag, she instead rubbed her face against it, using her nose and cheek to caress it.

“Pleasing men is good.”

The tortuous orgy continued. One of the men stopped to grip her abused cheeks and pull them wide. The other, taking careful aim, slapped her puckered anus with the crop again and again while she jerk spasmodically. Her eyes bulged, both in terror and ecstasy, as he beat her hole. Still she used her hair and face to please the man in front of her. Releasing her cheeks, that man stepped forward to untie her hands. Instead of shielding her backside from the abuse, she pulled her own ass wide open to receive more whips. Each shot made her feet dance uncontrollably from the pain, but she remained bent over the footboard to expose her hole for more of it.

“Your pain is good.”

Reversing his grip on the riding crop, the man placed the handle against her welted sphincter and shoved it into her. She shuddered, pressing herself against the footboard to brace herself for the onslaught.

Entranced, Natasha watched him impale her graceful role model’s ass with the course leather handle. “She’s so strong. Could I withstand that kind of pain?” The scene panned out to the Asian girls straddling her torturer’s lap, bouncing up and down on his cock while he sucked on her tiny tits. The black woman ground her hips, pushing back as she took more of the crop into her backdoor. The screen faded to black.

“You are an animal. You will serve men. You are an animal”

“I am an animal. I will serve men. My pain pleases men. My pain is good.” Natasha repeated over and over. Her voice was course from having been silent for so long. “My pain is good. I am an animal.”

The door opened behind her. She dove forward to her prone position, face down to the ground. Her nipples dragged against the unyielding concrete floor.

“I will serve men. My pain pleases men. My pain is good. I am an animal” she whispered this, just loud enough for Boris to hear and smiled in approval.

“Now you know the most important words you will ever say!”

“I am an animal. I will serve men. My pain pleases men. My pain is good.”

After freeing her ankle, Boris attached the leash back to her neck. She remained supplanted on the floor chanting her mantra till he tugged her leash and led her to the house. “Now, Red, or should I say Natasha Romanov, you can meet the Big Man!”

Natasha froze in her tracks. Her jaw dropped open in shock and she muttered “Nyet, my name is Korvinov…”

Boris laughed, pulling a photo of the Black Widow from a coat pocket and held it for her to see. “What you prefer to be called the Black Widow? We have known who you were since before you left Russia you stupid little cunt!”

She panicked, taking a step back, pulling the leash taunt from his hand to her throat.

“You are an animal. You will serve men. You are an animal”

Conflicted, she tried to pull free from Boris. “Stop” he commanded, jerking the leash. Natasha stopped pulling, but twisted trying to hide her body as if she could conceal her true identity again.

“Stand up straight you worthless bitch!” He cursed at her with anger in his eyes. She could remember the fate of the ugly disobedient bitches, so she did as he ordered. Standing tall, shoulders back, breasts thrust out, and her feet planted so her hips pushed forward and her patch of red hair boldly displayed. Using the end of the leash, Boris whipped her across the chest. Each shot left a stinging welt across her pale globes. Despite the pain, Natasha felt excited. She flexed her fingers anticipating the next blow. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply to fully experience the rush of sensations of the whips. Boris’ calloused hand rubbed her glistening pussy which sent a whole new wave of pleasure through her body.

A final slap of the leash struck her stiff clit with a wet splat. The pain was explosive. Lights flashed in her head as she reeled from the vicious blow, but the heat in her cunt burned out of control. Each throb of her heart beating enraged her clit more. Natasha had never felt so turned on and out of control in her life. She spread her legs, inviting another lashing. Opening her eyes, she was disappointed that Boris stopped.

“You are nothing but a dirty whore now. Not a spy, not a super hero. You are just a cock sucking, ass licking whore.” The words both crushed her spirit and enticed her body. Even the thought of a chance to suck Boris’ cock made her smile. “You will not cum until you are told too, no matter what any of us do. You may not touch yourself except to assist your master’s pleasure. Do you understand?”

Natasha bowed her head, nodding while she whispered “yes.” Her submission was so complete. She could remember coming here to stop this heinous crime, but no longer cared about anything but serving her masters and pleasuring all men.

“Come along now. The Big Man wants you.”

The thought of the Big Man wanting her made her flush with joy. She kept pace with Boris, keeping her head low as they left the garage. The biting cold wind outside raced across her skin. Instead of pain the icy needles of cold translated into an erotic massage. By the time they entered the main lobby, she was desperately trying to suppress an orgasm.

They walked silently down a grand hallway into an open room. Across the room was a large fire place with a blazing flame. “Sit by the fire and wait for him.”

The leash was unhooked and Boris left the room. Natasha made her was past the antique furniture and ornate décor to the fire. She knelt, and then lay down on a mat on the floor. The heat of the fire felt good, it chased away the cold and made her feel safe and secure. She felt twinges of excitement still at the thought of meeting the Big Man. She knew she had to please him, had to make him happy enough to keep her as his own. Though she would be very happy to serve Boris, or the manager of the strip club, or even any of the men who went there, she really wanted the Big Man, which would mean she was the best. She settled into a light slumber dreaming of how she would service him.

She awoke to a woman’s sighs. In the center of the room, the black woman she idolized from the training films was straddling a huge man sitting in a leather chair. Her back was arched so far that she faced Natasha and her huge tits bounced wildly towards the ceiling. He wore a life like silver mask, cold and emotionless. His gloved hands firmly grasped her bucking hips and held her tight to his crotch. She looked tiny against his massive frame. Natasha crawled on her hand and knees towards them, never taking her eyes off his. She pressed her own buxom breast between her arms as she moved, waving her bare bottom like a sultry vixen in heat.

“Stop” a voice commanded, freezing her in her tracks. The Big Man stood, effortlessly carrying his partner with him, still grinding away with her hips. Lifting her up, his monster of a cock slid free. It was at least a foot long and thick. Thicker then anything Natasha had every seen with pulsing veins running the length of it. It swayed in front of him as he set the other woman down, glistening in the firelight from her juices. Though she doubted she could even fit the head of the giant in her mouth, she desperately wanted to try. The African writhed in the chair, rubbing her legs together and stroking her belly, careful not to touch her sopping cunt as that was only the Big Man toy to play with.

He crossed the distance between them with two strides, grabbing a satchel as he passed the table it sat on. Natasha’s eyes never left his meat as it swung pendulously between his legs. Dropping the bag before her, the voice, electronically altered to hide any trace of its true sound commanded her to open it. Within it were cuffs and sex toys. They were all shiny and black, each with her Black Widow emblem emblazed on them. He watched as she pulled them, one by one, out of the bag, staring at the spider logo. She felt the urge to flee or fight back for a moment. Here was the Big Man, the man she swore to stop, but she couldn’t do it. The burning desire to serve him was too strong. All she wanted was to please him, to feel him drive that huge slab of meat deep into her and feel him cum.

She quickly donned the gear. Each wrist had a manacle, as well as her ankles. She gingerly applied the metal clamps to herself. Her nipples, already hard and pointing out and slightly upward screamed as the teeth settled into her flesh. Pausing for a moment to adjust, she then pulled the last two items from the bag. They were a large dildo, almost as big as her masters, and a shorter rounder butt plug. Sucking on the plug, she leaned forward and reached between her legs to insert it. Her spit was a poor lubricant, but she pressed on and forced it passed her resistant sphincter. The pressure was ungodly and it hurt, stretching the opening, but she flexed her ass, pulling it the final inch in and working it till she could withstand it. The dildo was challenging too, as wet as she was the sheer size of it was daunting. Stuffed as full as she could bear and with her nipples aching, she looked up at her master for his approval.

“That was very good my slave, very good. Most slaves cannot take that the first time, let alone do it to themselves!”

Despite the discomfort, Natasha beamed with pride. She was making a good impression.

“Carina” the voice boomed, summoning the black girl. “String her up.”

Carina approached, carrying a long black rope. Pulling her fellow slave to her feet, she began binding her with the rope. Lashed around and between her hips, the rope secured the implants firmly. She skillfully bound her tits, tightly squeezing them out of shape and pulling them apart. The blood began to pump, and with each beat the pain of the clamps grew and as it did, so did the excitement Natasha felt between her thighs. Finally Carina ran the ropes through the rings attached to her wrists and ankles. Handing the ropes to her master Carina returned her attentions to his cock, still stiffly protruding out. It took both hands to encircle it so she could stroke it while licking the underside of its head,

Reaching up, the Big Man tossed the ropes over a ceiling beam. With one arm he pulled the ropes tight and lifted Natasha off the ground. The ropes to her ankles pulled her legs apart into a split, while her arms were drawn above her head, carrying most of her weight. She groaned as the dildo and butt plug were forced deeper yet into her by the constriction of the ropes. Suspended from the ceiling, she twirled freely, growing dizzy from the motion. Her impaled cunt was at eye level to the Big Man. With his free hand he pulled a remote control from his coat pocket and showed it to her.

“Well Widow, you have demonstrated that my conditioning techniques are perfect! If you with all your counter interrogation training can be broken within a week, no woman is safe!”

She found it hard to believe that it had only been a week she spent in the room. It had seemed like a month while she lay there watching the daylight come and go, learning about her new role. “Thank you master” she answered “I am so glad I could do anything to make you happy! I am just an animal, I live to serve you and all men, my pain is for you to enjoy, and my pain is good!” She ran through her mantra like a school child reciting spelling words to please her teacher.

“Let me return the favor for you, since you become such a good little whore.” Pressing a button on the remote, the dildo sprang to life. It vibrated so deeply inside Natasha’s body that it buzzed her stomach. The head swiveled within her pressing up against her pelvis and tickling her most sensitive spots. The butt plug vibrated, too. It contracted and sprung up, plunging deeper into her ass. The Black Widow gasped, throwing her head back as the double penetration sent waves rippling across her body of pure ecstasy. She thrashed about, spinning and swinging like a horny piñata. As she closed in on an orgasm, she rigidly froze, trying to forestall it. Relentlessly the hardware vibrated and twisted within her, driving her mad with lust, but she held tight knowing she must not cum without permission.

“How does that feel slave?” His voice cut through the lust filled chaos of his mind.

Forcing herself to speak through clenched teeth, she answered, “It feels…so…good master…it hurts but it is so goooooodddd…..”

“Don’t cum yet my little spider slave” he reminded her. “Describe it to me; tell me what you’re feeling.”

Steeling herself, Natasha drew a breath so she could respond. “The ropes are so tight, they rub at my skin, they make my tits burn”

“Udders, you stupid cow, you have udders!” He interrupted her.

“Sorry master,” she contorted in the erotically charged pain, choking out the words, “my udders feel like they are going to burst….my cunt can’t take any more…”

Hey pussy had drenched the ropes that dug into her lips, pushing the dildo completely inside her. Her juices dripped from them to the floor below as she continued convulsing, trying o resist the mind shattering orgasm building within her. “My ass is so stretched out master; I want you to fuck my dirty whore ass…”

“You think that you could take me in your ass? You are a silly little whore! Even my pet Carina couldn’t do that and I have been fucking her for years!”

Natasha felt shame for not being able to fulfill her Master that way. She clenched her buttock tightly against the rubber plug. Maybe if she tried harder she could succeed where Carina failed. She focused her thoughts, such as they were, on working the plug in her ass which allowed her to fend off the impending orgasm. Though her whole body screamed for release, she struggled on to maintain composure. The muscles in her legs trembled and her hips joints raged at supporting her weight in a split for so long. Her fingers and toes lost feeling from the lack of circulation to them. Still, she poured every conscious thought into constricting and releasing her anus against the plug and resisting climax. She threw back her head growling and panting as if she were giving birth.

“I will not cum.” She chanted to herself, lost in a whirlwind of sensations, desperately trying to stay centered. Unaware of anything but the relentless mechanical motions between her legs and the pain of the ropes and clamps digging at her soft skin.

“Very good” his voice intoned. She hadn’t noticed being lowered to the floor, but the Big Man now stood above her, his emotionless gaze staring down at her. She twitched and wriggled still fighting off the climax. Carina knelt along side her, and at his command released both nipple clamps simultaneously. The return of blood flowing to her crushed buds triggered outrageous pain. She arched her back, nearly jumping off the floor at the excruciating sensation.

“Now, you may finish…”

She tried to force the words “Thank you” out, but every fiber of her being was suddenly electrified. Tendrils of absolute rapture arced across her nerves to her clit which was the new epicenter of her very being. The ache of her nipples, the stretching of her anus, her over stuffed cunt and the vibrating that shock her intestines, all culminated in an animalistic screech as her orgasm hit like a hammer. She curled into a ball and twitched uncontrollably as the waves of her climax smashed against her psyche. The main one was followed, like aftershocks, with smaller but vividly intense mini-orgasms. Unable to cope with the overwhelming intensity, the Widow’s consciousness effectively shut down and she lay utterly spent and lost at the feet of her conquering Master.

Carina carefully watched the heroine collapse, quickly looking back to her master. Her jaw trembled from the effort of opening wide enough to accommodate his girth. She could barely hold one testicle in each hand because of their giant size and weight. She felt them lurch a moment before the Big Man came. It was as if someone turned on a garden hose. The white fluid filled her mouth with such release that her head was shoved back. It doused her dark bronze chest and dripped from her dark nipples. Lightly squeezing his balls and stroking the underside of his beast, she cleared any remaining sperm from it.

“Clean this mess up and go wash yourself in your kennel before my guests arrive” he ordered as he walked away. Carina dropped to her hands and knees, lapping at the drops and puddles on the floor. The thick gel that clung to her body could be washed away in her sink, but the rest needed to be disposed of properly. So focused on her task, she barely noticed the other women pulling Natasha away.

When Natasha awoke, sore and uncomfortable, she was still curled in a ball. Her knees where pulled tight to her throat, and bound by a series of ropes which also pulled her arms behind her. Her elbows and wrists were bound together and her shoulders felt as if they might pop out of their sockets at any time. Thrust forward by the position of her arms, each breast was looped by the black constraints and stretched sideways so that her nipples pointed out parallel to her aching shoulders. Another rope pulled her ankles and wrists together, running between her the crack of her ass so that it grated both her anus and cunt if she moved. Her mouth was dry and held open by a soft rubber sleeve that was strapped in place behind her head. She could feel a cool metal chain on her back which joined the cuffs on her wrists to the buckle of the gag, pulling her neck back and immobilizing her head with her face looking forward.

She felt disorientated and her vision was hazy. To her shame, she could remember everything she had said, done and felt the night before. Despite her training and all her years of experience, she felt like a fool. She had been caught, tricked at her own game, and was now at the mercy of the villain she sought to bring down. “Damn it all” she cursed her arrogance at getting into this mess. She felt a tear welling in her eye as she remembered the utter wanton abandon that she had felt in trying to please the Big Man. Despite any drugs or physiological conditioning he had put her through; the Widow couldn’t believe how much she had wanted to be an animal and to be fucked by him like one.

Ignoring the pain of the rope dragging across her swollen ass and vagina, she did her best to look around. She was fastened to a table by U rings that were set through the wood. She might have been able to roll onto her side if she needed, but the network of ropes would probably have finished disjointing her arm from her shoulder. She was still in the same room, but it had been arranged, it seemed, for a festivity. Around the room, either mounted from tables like her, or dangling from the rafters, Natasha could make out other women similarly bound. Each uniquely tied in impossible poses and immobilized. All the girls wore a similar mouth piece which seeing it on the others, Natasha immediately recognized its purpose. The tube would hold their mouths open and prevent any of them from using their teeth to vend off the revelers. She and the others would be the main entertainment at a cock sucking party.

A few other women, each dressed in a bondage-themed French maid outfit, hurried about the room, setting out the food, arranging the silverware, and checking the ropes to ensure that they were tight. All of the trussed girls moaned, trying to plead for help. Some cried, some twisted helpless torturing themselves against the ropes. From a reflection in a mirror, Natasha could see Carina, contorted into a similar position, was mounted to the same table behind her. Only the two of them remained calm and surveyed the situation. Recalling the Big Man boasting that he had used Carina for years, the Widow considered that she was either so used to this, or that she had some training as well. Catching her in the mirror, Carina gave a stern look, and blinked twice at her.

Before she could consider what Carina message intended to send with the blinks, the grand doors swung open. The Big Man’s voiced continued speaking “…rewards for you all. This is only the beginning!”

Thirty or more men followed him into the room, mouths a gap, Ooo-ing and aahh-ing at the carnal spread before them. They quickly spread out around the room, two or three to each girl. Grabbing at the tits and asses, the bolder ones began to spank and slap.

“Hey!” A man out of her sight exclaimed “This is the bitch that arrested me!” A loud clap of his hand slapping her exposed flesh. The crowd grew very excited, moving quickly from girl to girl looking for familiar faces.

“Special Agent Jenner?” A thug laughed in disbelief. She was one of the girls hanging from the ceiling. Hog tied with a spreader bar between her knees, she was completely exposed. “I’d fuck you right here you cunt to make up for the years I lost in the clink!” Grabbing her tits, he cruelly twisted them until she began jerking in pain. Through the room it was the same, criminals finding the women law officers that had arrested or testified against them.

Natasha jumped as the sharp ring of silverware striking a glass rang out from behind her.

“You attention,” the Big Man called out. “As you can see, I have assembled a special reward for you all. Each and every one of these fine exhibits has slighted one or more of you in the past. As a curious side note, most came to me, seeking to infiltrate my organization.” His giant hand rested on her backside. His hand encompassed her entire posterior and his fingers tapped lightly against her hip. “These two” he continued, “are my very special prizes! Unless you spent time on the international fronts, you may not recognize the Black Widow,” he squeezed her ass tightly, “and the Silver Gazelle.” In the reflection, the Widow saw him gripping her dark fleshed butt.

“The Silver Gazelle?” Natasha pondered only vaguely remembering the African Heroine. She had disappeared shortly after arriving on the scene. Most, like Natasha, had assumed that she decided the heroine life was for her and retired quietly. It dawned on her that Carina must have been captured and subjected to this torture for all this time. Carina’s eyes closed as the Big Man announced her as his first test subject and best slave.

“Each of these…women” he spat out the word like a vile curse, “are strong willed bitches. They strode around flaunting their sexuality and defying all men to put them in their place!”

Holding a chalice of clear liquid in front of Natasha’s face for a moment, he lifted it to the crowd. “This here is our means, as men, to teach these whores the respect that they owe us!”

The French maid clad servants began to distribute similar glasses to the men. “This elixir, this mana from the gods will set the world straight! To men, it will unleash your inner strength. Your senses will come alive and you will feel vigor unlike ever before!” The men all stared at the glasses, a few sniffed at the contents.

“But more amazingly, this same liquid when applied to the weaker sex will crush their wills. They will, with little encouragement, assume their rightful roles as submissive whores desperate to please a man, any man!”

Natasha remembered the oddly tasting water. She had felt submissive before drinking it from the bowl due to the depravation. That drug, however, had been the final piece causing her to lose control. It was some small comfort to her.

“Fast acting, its formula will quickly bring maximum effect to you, or them. There are a few curious side effects as well.” The Big Man walked around the table to address his audience. “Your fatigue or pain will turn to endurance and strength! Her pain will, in turn, become pleasure, furthering the irresistible desire to service her man!”

The room grew quiet as each man considered the ramifications of the Big Man’s claims. “Now, you or these whores can drink the elixir, I find the best way to administer it to them, is by oral injection! There is only one way to prove the veracity of this though.” Raising the chalice again “Cheers, and enjoy the hospitality!”

The glasses were quickly drained. More excited voices exclaimed at their enhancements. In unison, dozens of zippers came undone as men lined up in front of their chosen victim. A crazed looking thug stood in front of Natasha with his cock slowly growing as he stroked it. “You shut down my dealer you cunt!”

Natasha blinked, panicking as his pecker kept growing. Fully erect at nearly eight inches, even this druggie was amazed at it. Helpless to stop him, he feed his dick through the ring in her mouth. She tried to stop his progress with her tongue, but realized she was only exciting him more as he forced passed it, chocking her as it poked into her throat. Gagging, she convulsed and shuddered as he humped her face. She couldn’t help but to think back when she pretending to enjoy face fucking Boris back at the strip club. She had to try to impress him then, but now she struggled to stop it. The ropes, expertly tied, dug into her tits, ass and pussy with each wiggle. Eventually she stopped and simply relaxed letting him drive deeply into her throat. He obviously enjoyed it her struggling more, but even as she stopped he was approaching his own climax. His nasty spunk shot into her mouth, pooling around her tongue.

She immediately felt its effects. Still trying not to swallow, she tried to push the offensive cum out of her mouth, but his still rigid dick blocked her efforts. Pinching her nose closed, he leered at her. “Drink it down you cunt, suck it all down!”

Left with no choice and running out of air, Natasha gulped it down. The same warm feeling radiated out from her throat and stomach as it settled in. The tension of the rope against her ass felt less irritating and more enticing. She began to rock back and forth drawing it across her two opening as the muscles there clenched and released in time with its passage. This same act forced her face to slide forward against his pelvis, pushing the cock through the ring. Still tasting his cum, she began to run her tongue along his shaft, flicking it against the ridge of his cock-head as it slide back from her throat into her mouth.

Grinning madly, he grabbed her nipples, now hard and throbbing from the constriction of the bindings and twisted them like dials. She groaned blowing air against his salvia covered dick and making him shudder and launch another volley of jism shots into her now welcoming mouth.

With his member finally softening, he pulled out if her. She sent her pink cum glazed tongue out of the ring, tickling its top till he stepped away. “Shit, she really loves it now!”

Each man was amazed at the transformations. Their dicks were bigger and harder then ever before, and these whores, once so smug and condescending, now lounged for and gobbled down every cock they could, sucking down their jism like milkshakes. No sooner then they blew their loads, the men were ready to go again. Unwilling to wait their turn, some men slipped behind the girls and began fingering whatever holes they could reach. Furiously sucking the next man’s meaty stick, Natasha moaned, frustrated that the friction of the rope against her slick pussy wasn’t enough. She looked around the room, envious of the other girls who were getting fucked while sucking. Special Agent Jenner apparently had the most arrests as she was being ping pong-ed between to men as others yanked at her nipples and slapped her ass. The Big Man wandered among the debauchery, allowing the girls like Jenner to cum with each man who fucked her.

One girl, he announced, would cum every time a man entered her ass. On each stroke, she rattled and squirmed in an exhausting string of orgasms, until she collapsed against her bonds, physically unable to continue. Even then, in a cruel demonstration of her complete submission, her tormentors had shoved a table spoon up her abused hole, and she would twitch as someone gave it a turn.

“You are one hot cunt!” Natasha’s current man yelled pounding passed her tonsils. Embedding her face in his hips, she took him as deep into her throat as she could, which cut off her own breath. Pulling out, he swung his dick in her face. She tried to recapture it, but couldn’t move enough to do it. He groaned letting loose a torrent of semen across her chin and neck. “Enjoy your pearl necklace you whore” he taunted as the final spurts soaked into the ropes on her chest.

Before long, the line of men progressed around the room. Each man grew harder and longer every time he came. Finally, she was unable to swallow another drop of cum, and it dripped out of her mouth piece into a puddle on the table in front of her. More of the men chose to pull out and plaster the girl’s faces with their unending supply of cum. It caked her long red hair to her face and sealed her eyes shut. Blinded, she accepted any and all things placed in her mouth. Dicks, spoons or fingers her lapped at them hungrily, trying to please whoever would grace her with their attention. Still she ground her dripping pussy with the ropes, trying to release the frustrating tension in her. If she could have, she would have begged each man to fuck her. “Fuck me with your beautiful hard cocks, your fingers, anything, please…” she silently begged through the layer of cum and her gag.

In time the line of men stopped, leaving all of the girls frantically trashing about as best they could, each searching for another man to please. One or two guys mad a final round, fucking the cooze filled holes and mocking them. Eventually even they had their fill and moved on. Elsewhere in the mansion they drank their fill each recounting their incredulously exploits. Swearing allegiance to the Big Man was a formality. Not even the Kingpin of crime could offer a package like this. The house grew silent and dark after the last guest left. Several girls, those whose bindings, like Natasha’s, preventing them from being fully exploited, continued to writhe against their restraints looking for release. Only Natasha and Carina remained awake through the night. Once it dried, she had been able to crack one eye open from her semen face mask.

In the reflection, she could see Carina was clean, untouched by the parade of thugs. As the Big Man’s favorite, she had been left to witness her peer’s utter debasement. She stared with a glimmer of pity at Natasha, who couldn’t help but rub her crotch raw seeking satisfaction from the ropes. Passing out at some point, she vaguely remembered the maids returning and taking the girls down from their positions. One by one they were carried out of the room as other maids scurried about cleaning the mess. Natasha collapsed to the table when her bindings were removed. Adding to her humiliation, the maid used her long red hair to mop up the puddle of cum that had seeped out of her mouth.

The trip back to her room was a jumbled array of chaotic images and sensations. The gag was ripped from her cum glued lips by a guard along the way. He pulled her hips to the edge of the cart she was being transported on, and she finally fucked. The guard was obviously juiced up on Big Man’s elixir has he pounded on her for nearly an hour, relentlessly slapping her tits and stretching her legs wide in the air. The maids silently watched as he rocketed in and out of her, seemingly forever. As he arched his back finally preparing to blow his load, he shouted for her cum too.

Natasha screamed, whipping her jism soaked strands of hair around. She squeezed her legs around his back and used her vaginal muscles to contract and pull on his meat. Shoving her ass in the air, she took his cock as deeply into her as possible and slumped unconscious before the last spurt of his seed flooded her raw pussy. Now she could sleep.

The effects of the elixir slowly wore off the next morning. Natasha eventually recovered enough self control to vomit the remaining tainted semen from her stomach. Washing herself clean in the sink, she settled back to the floor. The video played her lessons again, no-stop throughout the day, reinforcing the messages of servitude to her addled mind. When the guard entered carrying her bowls, she was slow to respond, gradually rolling to her knees and bowing to him.

“Cunt!” He swore, kicking her over. She righted herself, resuming the position. “You had better show more enthusiasm bitch!” He dropped her bowls, splattering the contents on the floor. Unbuckling his belt, he pulled it free, doubling it over, he cracked it into his fist with a loud slap.

The crack of the leather made the Widow perk up. The depression she had fallen into began to fade away as the desire to serve this man grew. “No” she cried to herself knowing that the effects of the drug had worn off, but her conditioning was taking over. Remaining in her prone position, she raised her ass in the air, expecting a punishment for her laziness.

“Got anything to say bitch” he questioned her as he moved behind her.

“I am sorry master, I should be happier to see you.” She chocked as these words came out of her mouth. She wanted to fight back, but couldn’t rouse the strength to do it. “I should know better and deserve to be punished.”

The sting of the belt whipping her ass jolted every nerve in her body. The following slaps felt like razors across her skin. She bit into her own arm, trying to tolerate the pain. After a minute he stopped. With tears in her eyes, Natasha slowly looked up to him. One hand held the belt while the other stroked his cock. She felt her pussy warming up. Slowly rising up on her knees, she replaced his hand with her own, running her fingernails gently along the length. She cupped his balls with the other hand, caressing them as she pulled them free of his pants.

Natasha felt outside herself, like she was watching another woman on the television. The last thing she wanted to do was please him, but her body was reacting as if on autopilot. She settled her mouth around the head of his cock and sucked its dry skin to coat it with her salvia while lavishing it with her tongue. Using her tongue and hand with all her skills, she quickly brought him to the edge of cumming. Jerking free by yanking her hair, the guard laughed. “You think a whack with the belt was enough bitch?”

“No sir,” she answered, internally torn at her yearning for more punishment, “I am a very bad animal who needs to be taught a lesson.”

A few quick tugs on his cock sent his cum flying into the toilet. Globs of it glistened on the seat while most of it floated in the water. “Get over here” he commanded, pointing to the toilet. She crawled over, pulling herself up to the edge. Pulling her up to her feet, he bent her over, face towards the soiled commode. Spreading her legs, he poked her ass with his cock-head. “Once you taste that cum, you won’t have a second thought about this.” Shoving forward, he forced his dick against her hole, pushing passed her clenched sphincter. It hurt and her knees buckled. Holding her up, he continued to drive it in.

“All you have to do is suck up that cum you whore and this won’t hurt at all!”

She stared at the goo splattered on the seat and floating in the water. She felt as if she were being torn open with each of his thrusts and couldn’t stop it. “I can’t do this,” she cried to herself,”I can’t lick a toilet, I can’t give up control!” But the pain became too much as he built up friction, pounding into her colon. Stretching her tongue, she dabbed at the toilet seat, tasting his cum. She planted her lips and sucked, pulling up the drippings and swallowing it. The effects were, as before, immediate. Her anus relaxed, absorbing the thrusts. The pain was replaced with overwhelming delight of being fucked by this man. She flexed her knees driving her hips back to meet his. Running her lips around the lid, she sucked up the other spots of cum. Each drop made her feel better, stronger and more willing to accept this violation and enjoy her it. Resting her head on the freshly cleaned lid, she moaned as he drilled at her. “Fuck me harder master, my dirty whore ass needs to be fucked!”

Grabbing her hair, the guard pushed her face into the toilet. “You missed some whore!” Each shove he made in her ass drove her face into the cold water. Gulping, she swallowed more of the water then cum, but kept trying to catch the elusive strands of it in the splashing water. The constant banging of her head against the ceramic bowl and the lack of oxygen as she gasped for air while sucking at the semen made her woozy. She was blacking out he made his final push and flooded her bowels with his spurting load. Released from his grip, she slumped to the ground, gagging and coughing up the toilet water.

“Clean me off” he commanded, glaring down at her. Weakly, she pulled herself up and resumed sucking his softening cock. She had choked down the filth and cum from it when a hot stream of piss flooded her mouth. She began swallowing the urine that sloshed around in her mouth, knowing that her master wanted that. When he finished, he pulled out and slapped his dick against her cheek to knock the last drops off. Stuffing his dick back into his pants, he turned and left her kneeling there with her hair soaked in toilet water, the taste of piss in her mouth and ass dripping with his cum. She waited, craving even more. She eventually realized no one was coming. Half lying on the floor, she lowered her head to lick at her food off the floor. Not only did she need to eat, she knew she had to clean the mess to please her masters.

Drugged or not, Natasha admitted to herself as she lapped her tongue across the concrete to get the last of the dog food, this was her life now. Unless someone rescued her, she would never have the strength to escape on her own. Cleaning herself off, she managed to do some of exercises while watching her lessons. Maybe someday she would get the Big Man, get him to use her however he wanted. Maybe someday she would get the kind pat on the ass that Carina did. That would have to be enough of a reason to go on for now, she thought as the lights dimmed and she settled in to sleep on the floor.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++