The Adventures of Autumn

The Adventures of Autumn

A Session With Doctor Dread

L’Espion with Melissa Gallant

Chapter 3 Plaything

Autumn whimpered in agony. She was bent backward over a metal bar set about three feet off the floor, her arms bound behind her at the elbows and tied to her ankles. It left her in a painful kneeling position, her lush body bathed in perspiration and her breathing tormented. A week of sexual brutality and drug injections had rendered her little more than a sexual toy, and Dread seemed far from losing interest in her. It seemed to delight him beyond measure to have a heroine under his complete control; a control that was becoming more pronounced every day.

“You want this don’t you?” Dread said looming over her. In his hand he held a small syringe, but that syringe contained everything so far as Autumn was concerned. She nodded her head meekly, having long since given up any pretence at holding out against the insidious form of torture Dread used against her.

“And what will you do to get it?” Dread continued, taking one step closer.

Autumn never got over how huge the man was. He probably weighed three times what she did. When he stood over her it was like being in the presence of some colossal ebony statue, especially when he was dressed or rather undressed as he was now. He wore only a white towel to hide his nudity and his well-muscled body glistened with oil. He grinned at her, displaying a mouthful of white teeth and repeated the question. “I said, what will you do to get it? You still playing hard to get?”

“I’ll p…pl…pleasure you?” she gasped.

“You bet your firm white tits you will,” Dread responded. “But haven’t you forgotten something?”

“Ss…Sorry master,” Autumn answered. It still galled her to call him that, but she was far beyond having any pride left. She needed what Dread held in his hand and would do anything to get it.

“Alright,” Dread said, dropping the towel. It only fell a few inches before catching on his erect phallus. With a laugh he waved it at her like a flag, before finally whipping it off to expose his impressive erection. He took one more step toward her.

The tip of his organ quivered just inches from her face. A tiny drop of semen sparkled on the tip. She could see every vein in the thick shaft. Autumn swallowed, and then completing her submission, she bent her head and took the gleaming black lance into her mouth.

“Oh,” Dread groaned. “That’s good. That’s so good.”

Autumn knew what she had to do. She forced her head down fighting back her gag reflex as the huge member filled her mouth and then tickled the back of her throat. She swirled her tongue around the tip and then bobbed her head allowing her full lips to stroke half the length of his phallus. Dread groaned again, his breath quickening. “Oh honey,” he moaned you sure do know how to please a man.”

Autumn continued her work, knowing what was coming next. She felt his penis throb as she took him so deeply he touched her tonsils. Then he exploded into her, filling her mouth with his steaming seed. “Oh god!” he boomed, his sonorous voice filling the room as his body shook with pleasure.

Autumn swallowed. Dread would not allow her to spit out his ejaculant, and she did not want to do anything to anger him. “That was fantastic,” Dread boomed. “Now for your reward.”

Autumn arched her body in expectation as Dread felt for a suitable vein. He found one easily. Her arms were not yet pock marked with the “tracks” of a long-time addict. Using one huge hand as a tourniquet he clamped it above her elbow and shoved the needle into her arm.

“Aaahh!” Autumn experienced the euphoric surge that went with the flood of the drug into her system. Dread had injected her with a dose that would have killed a normal person, but it was a level that seemed just right for her.

Now came the part that Autumn had come to fear most. Dread had temporarily satisfied his sexual urges and would use her to amuse himself until he had reached a state of arousal once more. “What shall it be today?” he mused. Against one wall of the rather stark room in which she was imprisoned was an eclectic array of torture and sex aids, from oversized dildos and the usual collection of whips and chains, to electrical leads. He picked up a whip consisting of three light metal chains. “No,” Dread said, shaking his head. “Not today. I’m not in the mood for a lot of blood.”

“Perhaps this,” he mused picking up a dildo with a length of electrical cable leading from it. “Yes, it might be fun to see you squirm.”

He walked toward her carrying the dildo and another piece of electrical apparatus. “First the little pussy,” he said as he smeared lubricant over the dildo.

Autumn looked up at him helplessly, her eyes wide with fear. “Please don’t do it,” she begged. “I’ll do anything you want.”

Dread chuckled. “I know you will, and right now you’re going to be my little sex toy.” He touched the dildo to her nether lips and pushed it slowly inside her.

N…No,” Autumn grunted. It wasn’t the largest dildo on display, but it was ridged to provide extra contact and it took a fair bit of effort to force it into her. Dread worked it back and forth pushing it deeper each time until its full eight inches was buried inside her and then he used a small pair of straps to secure it around each of her thighs so that it could not be removed.

“And now for your tight little rosebud,” Dread commented. He lubricated a second dildo. This one was smaller than the first, but definitely not small enough to fit into her remaining opening. Autumn moaned in fear, her sphincter tightening involuntarily as Dread moved toward her.

“Ohhh! Ahhhh!” she cried as Dread forced the dildo between the cheeks of her buttocks. “Owwww, stop! It hurts!”

“I should hope so,” Dread chuckled. “Otherwise I would be wasting my time.” He pushed the device home, ignoring Autumn’s cry of pain. “And now the titties,” Dread said as he finished. He selected a couple of painful looking nipple clamps from his selection of toys and returned to her side. Autumn twisted her body and whimpered in agony as the movement aggravated the pain of the two dildos.

“This might pinch a bit,” Dread commented. Then he snapped on first one and then the other nipple clamp.

“Uunngh!” Autumn grunted, but she dared not move for fear of causing greater pain to herself.

“Just about ready,” Dread commented. He picked up two wires and attached then to each of the clamps and then he took all four wires and carefully fixed them to a small electrical device. Autumn watched, sweat trickling between her breasts and dripping onto the floor. She was already experiencing so much pain that she could barely keep herself from screaming. Only the inner strength possessed of all superheroines kept her from breaking down. However, that all went out the window when Dread turned the dial on the electrical console.

“Aaah! Aaggh! AHHH!” Her body twisted in torment as the electrical current surged into her vagina and anus, and sent shock waves into her nipples.

Dread twisted the dials experimentally, attempting to find just the right settings. Pulses of electricity thrummed into her body. The result was both agonizing and to Autumn’s chagrin, sensually stimulating. “Aaahh!” The current surged into her womb and vagina causing the muscles to contract sharply simulating sexual stimulation. The sweat now poured off Autumn’s body for more than one reason.

“This is unexpected,” Dread commented. “You really are a little slut. I’m trying to torture you but you are getting off on this.”

Autumn’s body arched in reply. The contractions of her sexual organs and the electricity jolting through her nipples was agonizing painful and yet at the same time sexually arousing. She didn’t know whether to scream in pain or moan in ecstasy and so she did both. “Noooo! Stop! Aahhaa! Ohhhh! Aaggh! Oh god, please stop! Oh god…”

Her belly contracted, rippling with the intensity of the orgasm that swept through her. Sweat sprayed from her body as it convulsed uncontrollably and then mercifully Dread turned off the current.

“You little white whore. I’m not going to let you have all of that for yourself.” Dread was fully erect once more; his erotic torture of his captive having achieved its purpose. Hastily he undid the straps on Autumn’s thighs and removed the vaginal and anal dildos. Autumn’s response was a sigh that was a mixture of relief and regret. Slowly but surely Dread was turning her into his sexual plaything. The combination of drugs, torture and sexual stimulation was sapping her will to resist and what happened next did nothing to improve matters.

Dread removed the nipple clips, and clamping his huge hands on her soft, firm breasts thrust hard into her dripping vulva. He slid all the way in despite his huge size. Autumn was more than ready for him and she could not hold back a moan of pleasure as he took her. Her very helplessness contributed to her arousal. With her arms still painfully bound behind her and her body arched over the metal bar she could not have been any more at the villain’s mercy. Dread loomed over her, threatening at any second to crush her with his massive weight, his thick organ siding deep into her and then out again as he pounded her without mercy.

“Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!” Autumn grunted with each thrust. Slowly her grunts rose to a higher pitch and then with a scream she climaxed, her womb and vagina contracting once again and clamping Dread’s phallus so tightly he cried out in surprise and pleasure. “Now I’ve got you, you white whore. You’re going to be my little pet for the rest of your life. But first I’ve got something else planned for you.”

It took him half an hour to finish her off and when he was through her thighs, vulva and vagina were so sore that they felt as if she had been raped with a jackhammer. She was too sore and exhausted to do more than moan softly. Breathing heavily, Dread toweled the sweat from his body and then wrapped a clean towel around his waist. “I’ll see you later, sugar. I’ll be back to see how you’re enjoying the party.” He stepped to the doorway and threw it open. “Alright you niggas. She’s all yours. Do whatever you want with her, but just remember, she better have all her body parts when you’re finished.”

Autumn lay helpless. She could only watch in terror as Dread departed and the open door admitted more than a dozen members of his gang. “At last,” a familiar voice chimed. “We gets our turns. I been lookin’ forward to this for a week.” Standing over her was the man who had captured her. He licked his lips. “Looks like you’ve been given some hard fucking. Well, that ain’t nothing compared to what we gonna do. Get ready for the fuck of your life.”

“No!” Autumn thought. “No!” She would have preferred anything Dread did to what was now awaiting her. But she had no choice in the matter. A score of hands reached for her and then she knew true horror and revulsion.

Three hours later she lay semiconscious on the floor of the room. To say that she had been thoroughly fucked would have been an incredible understatement. She had been taken again and again in every possible way and her body stank from her ordeal. Barely able to respond as the last three men raped her, they had not even bothered to place her in restraints.

“Sleep it off, bitch,” the last man said as he left the room. “We be back tomorrow.”

Autumn didn’t even raise her head as the door closed. She was beaten beyond all endurance. But for some reason, perhaps the fact that her body was racked with pain she could not sink into the relief that sleep offered. Instead she lay there, tormented by the thought of what she had become. I’m nothing but a cheap whore; willing to do anything to get a fix.

Somewhere in her clouded mind she remembered that she had once been a bit more than someone who was willing to submit to the vilest sexual abuse in order to get a fix. And it had not been very long ago. How many days had it been to change her from a heroic figure to a pathetic creature begging for a shot of heroin? It couldn’t have been much more than a week.

Am I really that pathetic? To be completely subverted in only seven days? It can’t be. It must be more than that. But she knew that it wasn’t. She had been turned into a cringing slut in less time than it took bananas to ripen.

Somehow, she forced herself into a sitting position. Possibly the pain helped, keeping her from succumbing to the affects of the drug and the punishing gang rape. But she could already feel the nagging desire for another fix. Had it really been that long or was her body demanding the drug more often?

Breathing hard, she made it to her knees. She looked toward the door, half expecting it to open. Surely someone must be aware of the fact that she had not been restrained. But the door remained closed, giving her the courage to struggle to her feet.

The effort was agonizing as her ravaged body protested. She doubted that she would ever walk normally again. The craving for the drug was now stronger than ever, but she focused on the pain, finding that somehow the one helped to take her mind off the other.

She stood unsteadily, halfway to collapsing, but she fought the wave if dizziness that swept over her. Naked and alone, and almost overcome by the wrenching pang of drug addiction, she gripped the steel bar Dread had tied her to and stared about her. Slowly a plan took shape based on the very instruments of torture her captor had used on her.

She first needed some form of defence, and this was provided by the electrical cables Dread had used to torture her. They were long enough to reach from the electrical transformer to the door. It crossed her mind that electrifying the door handle would help, but she needed more than that if she was to keep Dread’s men away from her for more than a few minutes. However, something about the door pushed through her consciousness.

Gasping in pain at every step she forced herself across the floor, dragging the thick electrical leads with her. She reached the door at last, and found that her remembered observation had been correct. Dread, in his desire for security, had installed a door of heavy steel. It was the perfect barrier for what Autumn intended. First, however, she took the elementary precaution of throwing the bolt on the door, an action that should delay any attempts at entry for a few minutes.

As fast as she could, considering that she could barely stand, she secured the cables to the door, her ears straining for the sound of movement on the other side. For whatever reason, perhaps just laziness, no one checked on her during the entire procedure.

Returning to the other end of the electrical cables she secured them to the transformer that Dread kept for the purposes of torture and entertainment and set it to maximum. Then she sat and tried to think of what do next, while ignoring her drug-induced cravings.

The desire for a fix gnawed at her, making it more and more difficult to concentrate, but she was able to remember that electrifying the door was only a temporary measure. She needed something more than that just in case Dread and his thugs decided to batter the door down without touching it.

By now she was sweating profusely as the withdrawal symptoms kicked in full bore, but she forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Dragging her aching body across the room, she managed to push a table against the door and pile a few heavy boxes on top of it.

It wasn’t much of a barrier, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances, and by the time she was finished she was shaking so badly that she had to sit down. God, I need a fix, she thought, as the sweat trickled into her eyes and ran like rivers between her breasts.

“I need a drink,” she muttered. And she didn’t mean alcohol. She was completely dehydrated, a situation that was amplifying the debilitating affects of her drug addiction. On the counter next to Dread’s instruments of torture she spotted a half empty bottle of water. She took a small swig, and then another, forcing herself to drink slowly. “Easy, Autumn. You might find a way out of this yet.”

Her success in barricading herself had revived her spirits. It was a pathetically minor victory. She was still trapped in Dread’s HQ and his minions might start battering at the door any second, but it was her first success since being captured and forced to endure a week of unremitting torture and humiliation.

She drained the rest of the bottle and tried to still the quivering in her fingers. By now the cravings for the drug were so powerful she could barely hold back the urge to remove her pathetic barricade and open the door in the hope that Dread or his men would give her what she wanted. But some stubborn instinct held her back. Perhaps her heroine sense of what was right and wrong would not let her give up. Whatever it was, she tried to focus on something that would take her mind off the torment of her drug addiction.

She started by taking an inventory of what was in the room besides Dread’s toys. There were a number of syringes, some of them of the old-fashioned hypodermic design. She had first hand knowledge of a few of them. However, except as rather nasty darts, none of them would be particularly useful as a weapon.

The whips and chains were better. She had the stripes across her body to prove that she had experienced those as well and she knew that they might be effective in combat. But not against guns, and Dread and his gang were not the type to try and play fair.

Then she found the drugs. There was an entire drawer full of them, along with a couple of elastic bands for producing a promising vein. Oh, god, don’t do this to me. She had fought so hard to ignore the terrible cravings and now she was presented with the perfect opportunity for dealing with them. The urge to end her suffering was overwhelming. It would just take a few seconds, and she would find relief from the brutal torment. She had everything she needed. Before she knew it she had the syringes out and a neat row of bottles lined up on the top of the counter. Now she just needed a source of heat, and she found it in a compact little gas burner.

No. It’s exactly what Dread wanted. A pathetic little plaything completely under his power. I’m through sucking that bastard’s cock for a fix.

She set down the burner and took a deep breath. I’m a heroine, dammit. And I’m going to start acting like one.

First she needed some clothing. It would be too much to hope that Dread had left her costume somewhere in the room, but perhaps there might be something she could use to cover herself.

Opening one of the closets she found a complete wardrobe. Unfortunately, all of the clothing was designed to fit Dread. Even one of his shirts would fit her like a tent. Closing the door she opened a second closet and discovered something radically different. It was almost enough to take her mind off the persistent hunger for a drug fix. Arrayed on hangers was an exotic and expensive assortment of leather and metal bondage gear.

Shit, this just gets kinkier and kinkier. But it doesn’t look like I have a choice. A search of another closet turned up some very feminine underwear, but no normal clothing so she returned to the second closet.

She put on a lacy pair of silk panties to start, and then followed that with a metal-studded black leather top that fastened down the front with large metal clips. Then she pulled on a pair of tight-fitting leather pants that matched the top, followed by a pair of high-heeled black boots. She picked up a leather choker and then set it back. Enough is enough. Now to get to work.

Dread walked into the smoke-filled outer room of his HQ. He was not in a particularly good mood. A drug shipment he had financed had been picked off by the coast Guard costing him a cool two million in initial outlay, not to mention the lost profits which would have been at least fifty times that amount. He did a quick survey of the room and bellowed in rage. “Which one of you motherfuckers is keeping an eye on the white bitch?”

Several of his men disentangled themselves from a number of shapely and semi-nude young women, while others stirred themselves from a marijuana stupor and looked blankly at him. One individual who had confined his recreation to playing cards with three other men got to his feet. “Don’t worry, boss. We-all shagged that bitch so hard she won’t be stirrin’ her white ass for a week.”

“Idiots. She’s a heroine. The same rules don’t apply to her.” Dread crossed the room and reached out for the door handle.

“Eeaahh!” Dread’s hair stood straight up and his huge body went rigid. For a few seconds he gripped the doorknob, seemingly unable to let go, and then he was hurled across the room. He lay on the floor, a dark stain spreading through the front of his trousers while a strong smell of burning meat filled the air. The room erupted into shouting, screaming chaos.

Men and women rushed toward the fallen crimelord, but Dread was already getting to his knees. As several men helped him to his feet, his voice bellowed throughout the room. “Get away from me. And get that motherfucking door open.”

Most of Dread’s men were smart enough to realize that attempting to open the door by normal means was not a good idea. However, it took several minutes of discussion to come up with an idea. Not surprisingly it was Dread who finally worked it out.

“The bitch has electrified the door. We can’t touch the knob so wrap something around it that doesn’t conduct electricity. We’ve got a ton of plastic bags. Use them to open the fucking door.”

One of the men wrapped several dozen bags around his hand and tried the knob only to discover that the door was locked on the inside. “Fucking heroine whore,” Dread raged. “Get something to break it down.”

Several of the men grabbed a heavy table, and lining up four to a side, slammed it into the door while Dread watched. “Get me something for this, bitch,” he ordered holding up his burned hand. One of the women, having pulled her clothing back on, scampered to carry out his command.

The table crashed against the door with little result, but it was brought back and slammed forward again and then again. Dread watched in growing annoyance. “Breaking into my own quarters, thanks to you lazy nigger motherfuckers.”

His followers stayed well away from him fully aware of the rages Dread was prone to, as they spelled each other off at the makeshift ram. Eventually they had to bring up a second table when the first one broke apart from the continual pounding at the heavy door. However, by this time they had made some progress. They had succeeded in breaking one of the hinges. It was only a matter of time until the door gave way completely, although it would be at considerable cost to the furniture.

Dread watched impatiently as the battering continued. Slowly the door bent back as the hinges buckled. It was just a matter of time, and he drew his gun. “Maybe it’s time to put that white bitch away.”

However, he was not about to take any more chances than he needed to. “Get ready,” he ordered. “When the door goes down drag that bitch out here.”

The door teetered, and then with a final slam of the table, crashed to the floor. Despite their numbers, the assorted thugs outside the door hesitated until Dread urged them on. “Get your Nigger asses in there, before I lose my patience.”

A young tough called Daylo headed forward. “We’s goin’, boss. It’s jest one honky.” He reached the door and headed in, gun drawn. Several others crowded behind him ready to aid in Autumn’s capture.

There was a sharp cry from Daylo and he staggered back, clutching at his neck. “Bitch, shot me,” he gasped, pulling something from his throat. There was another cry and a second man retreated from the doorway.

“What the fuck…” Dread began and then noticed that Daylo was holding a syringe in his hand. He had just plucked the object from his neck.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Daylo cursed, throwing the makeshift dart onto the floor. The syringe was too small to have done much damage, but it had probably stung and it had been completely unexpected.

“Stupid white ho,” Dread commented. “What’s she playing at?”

Several more syringes has come flying toward the doorway and the sudden rush of his men toward it had halted. Dread pushed his way through it. “What the fuck you worried about?” He picked up one of the syringes. “She can’t hurt you with these.” Contemptuously he pushed past his men and moved through the doorway.

He got one step inside the room and screamed in pain. Staggering back, his foot caught of the fallen door and he crashed full length to the floor. Daylo rushed forward. “Stings don’t it? What the fuck…?” He stared in shock as he realized that Dread was lying full length on the floor, his feet beating a rhythmic tattoo. The crime boss’s eyes were rolled up into his skull, and his mouth was wide open. But most disturbing was the fact that a large hypodermic jutted up from the middle of his chest.

Dread’s men clustered around him, several kneeling by his side as they watched the completely unexpected. Dread was dead, killed in a manner so startling that it left them stunned.

“Dat white bitch done killed Dread,” one of the women screamed.

“Kill her,” shouted another. “Kill her.”

“Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.” The chant filled the room as almost in a wave every man and women rushed toward the door.

This time, however, there was no attempt to enter what had been Dread’s inner sanctum. Instead a semicircle formed outside the door and almost as one the men began to fire their pistols into the room.

Inside the room Autumn ducked as the hailstorm of gunfire swept the doorway. The bullets could not reach her unless she was hit by an unlucky ricochet. Nevertheless, she knew that Dread’s followers would not be content with merely firing mindlessly into her place of refuge. Eventually they would gain enough courage to come in after her.

Her pathetic plan had succeeded far beyond any expectations that she had of it. Using a few of the instruments of torture in Dread’s room, which included a few power tools, she had cut off a length of steel tubing that formed the main support for a lamp and had fashioned it into a crude blowgun. The syringes had worked well as darts, although they could do little more than annoy anyone they hit. She was not able to figure out a way to make the syringes inject anything into anyone. However, the large hypodermics were another matter. Taking out the small burner she had brewed up a lethal dose of cocaine solution and filled three syringes to capacity. Tucking two of them into her belt she had moved to the doorway, knowing that Dread would probably respond in the manner that he had. As he had charged through the doorway in an undisciplined rush she had jammed the first hypodermic into his chest and pushed the plunger home. That much cocaine flooding into his system must have killed him almost instantly. The only thing she regretted was that he probably had not even realized what had happened before he was dead. It would have been nice if he had suffered as she had. But that was not to be and his death had the undesirable result of enraging Dread’s gang. Now she huddled in fear, waiting for the inevitable rush of men into the room that would end her act of defiance.

However, as she crouched behind an overturned table, she became aware of something else. The terrible pangs that had racked her body were gone. The sweating, cramps, and agonizing longing for a fix were no longer there. For the first time since she had been enveloped by the snowstorm of cocaine she felt free of the insidious influence of the drug. A slow awareness spread over her. I have my strength back. I’m Autumn again.

Not truly daring to believe that her superheroine powers had returned, She gripped the metal leg of the table she was crouched behind and bent it like a pretzel. It was enough of a test, and she thanked her superheroine powers of resistance for being able to fend off the affects of the terrible drug addiction that had gripped her.

She gathered herself mentally. The thugs crowding toward the room were in for a grim surprise. She would show no mercy to those who had raped and tortured her for days. She didn’t wait for them to finish firing or come through the door. Instead she made her own door by tearing a hole through the wall. Lacking complete invulnerability she had no intention of exposing herself to bullets and she didn’t have to. Her strength and speed propelled her among Dread’s gang so quickly that she was nothing but a blur.

She took out almost the entire gang before most realized she was even among them and she was not particularly gentle. Those few thugs that realized what was happening reacted far too late to save themselves. Within seconds Dread’s HQ was strewn with the unconscious and semiconscious bodies of the men and women who had served the crime boss.

Retrieving a cell phone from one of the hapless thugs Autumn dialed a number only she and one other knew. “Chief Ryan: I have something for you. It’s a bit of a mess, but I’ve dealt with part of the drug problem in Gastown.” She gave the address and waited for the sound of sirens.

It suddenly struck her that she must be a bit of a mess after the ordeal she had been through. Salvaging a purse from one of the women she had punched into oblivion, she sought the washroom.

Like much of Dread’s HQ the woman’s washroom was opulent to the point of being decadent, not that Autumn minded. She studied herself in the mirror as she combed out her hair. Apart from the fact that she desperately needed a bath, she appeared to have suffered no ill affects from her week long ordeal. Actually, black suits me she thought as she stroked the expensive leather vest she was wearing. I think I might have discovered a new look. With a small smile she left the powder room and waited as the sound of sirens wailed closer.

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