I woke up groggy and confused. I could hear a dim rumble and clatter, something like the muffled sounds of a far-off train. A wide of cold air hit me and I shivered. Was I naked? No. Not all the way. I still had my underwear on, although they felt tighter than usually for some reason.
I looked down, but I wasn't able to see much. Well, I couldn't see anything. Something was wrapped tightly around my face and blotted out any light. It was hard to breath, too. The ballgag in my mouth was buckled tight. I'd never worn one before and the sensation of having my mouth completely stuffed was totally overwhelming. I tried to move, but it wasn't possible...
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My arms were bend behind me at an unnatural angle, cold steel and leather holding them tight. A harsh metal collar around my neck locked me firm to the post behind my head. Straps around my thighs and held me down firmly to... to...
There was no avoiding it. I could feel that thing buried inside of me, dormant and dangerous. I was on a sybian... I was at the mercy of a machine that could ruin women and destroy me. And I couldn't get away.
It was something straight out of the roughest porn I'd ever seen. I swallowed hard behind my gag. I'd seen how that one had ended. My cock twitched and stiffened against my underwear, half in fear and half in arousal at the predicament I was now in.
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My fearful thoughts were cut off when I hear the sounds of high heels clicking on the floor. Suddenly, the wrap fell from my eyes.
And there was Ilsa, standing over me in a skintight black dress, phone in hand.
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"Smile," she commanded in a crisp voice. I hear the shutter click three times. Each little click only reminded me of how helpless I was. I couldn't stop her, even if so wanted to.
Behind my gag, I could only drool and choke a little.
"Awwww...." She said with mock pity. "You seem nervous."
Her soft hand brushed against my cheek. "You could have it so much worse..."
And then I saw them.
We were in a large boxcar. Well, it had once been a boxcar. Not it was rolling dungeon, filled with implements of torture and oppression. And now it was full of slaves. Nearly a dozen men and women crowded the dungeon. Everyone wore a cold metal collar around their neck and leather-lined steel cuffs on their wrists and ankles. Everyone was stripped and wearing nothing more than the same skimpy loincloth I was. I could feel my cheeks turning red as I saw them. I was like them, now. Property.
Each slave was contorted in some cruel pose. Ropes, steel, leather and wood pinned each slave to a sybian of their own. Their names, a crude title, and a single number were scrawled on their chests in rough black letters.
"You're all collared slaves now. Every one of you is property. Your collars only has two things on it. Your slave number and your fate. I see many of you are hoping to perish. Rest assured, we plan on making good use of every hole you have before we throw you away for good."
"Each of you have been given a fundoshi loincloth to wear. The color tells the world wether you want cock, pussy or both. The bi slaves wear red, the straight ones white, the fags get patterns."
"We're going to have some fun now," Ilsa declared. "Well, fun for me, anyhow."
She pushed a button on her phone and every Sybian in the room came alive. The air was filled the buzz of the relentless machines and the moans of the trapped slaves. As the Sybians fucked the helpless slaves, a small group of well dressed men and women entered and began to give their chosen slave their full, sadistic attention.
(Due to the large number of participants, I was not able to include everyone in the first round of the story. I chose the characters who I felt fit the universe the best and had the potential for the most interesting character arcs. I will try to include the people who missed out in later chapters of the story.)
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To my right, a slim woman in her thirties struggled to break free of her bonds. The gag locked firmly in her mouth prevented from doing anything more than letting out friends of protest. Scrawled on her chest were the words
BARBARA
112
REBEL
Her chest heaved as she struggled and fought to be free. Her breath came faster as the machine drove her closer and closer to an unwanted orgasm. Then, just as she was about to dip over the edge, the Sybian slowed. And then it brought her back to the edge, only to deny her again and again and again.
Barbara's struggles only brought her attention from Ilsa, who flicked her with a flogger to make her squirm and scream.
Her struggles attracted the attention of a fit-looking black couple. They approached and look at Barbara's struggles with sadistic satisfaction.
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Without saying a word to each other, they descended on her. For the next hour, her existence was a blur of sensations. She choked on cock, got smothered by a dripping pussy, felt her tits get whipped sore. And all the while, the Sybian refused to let her get any release. Only when the man had pumped his second load down her throat did the vibrator finally push her over the edge. Covered in cum, spit and whip marks after the hardest hour of her life, she collapsed and hung limply from her bonds.
Next to her, a slender, mature woman was in a similar predicament.
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KATHY 113 literally had "whore" written all over her. It earned her the attention of another couple, a nude man and a woman in lacey black lingerie and heels The two made out as they watched Kathy just squirm. They left the machine to run on high for nearly the whole hour. Orgasm after orgasm after orgasm was ripped from her petite body. The long vibrating dock stuffed her tight kissy so full, she feared shelf burst. Her quiet demeanor began to erode with every passing moment.
As one of the few ungagged slaves, she was free to moan as loudly as she she wanted. And after the third orgasm, she simply lost control. She begged, babbled, yelped, groaned, squealed, and yelled. Whenever they gave her breasts and ass a swat with their crops, she got even louder. Only the occasional throatfucking from the couple's cock and strapon could shut her up. By the end of the hour, Kathy was as broken in as a new slut can be.
Lilith's fate was little better. Chains had stretched Lilith's arms apart and forced the chained slave to arch backwards. As the Sybian teased Lilith's tight ass, the slave got some attention from several quarters. A trio of seductively-dressed women watched Lilth's loincloth bulge bigger and bigger. After Lilith's cock began to bulge from the top of the red fundoshi, one of them stepped forwards and produced an even bigger member.
"Service it, bitch," Lilith's tormentor hissed.
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Choking and barely able to breathe with the huge cock stuffed inside, Lilith tried to obey. After a few minutes, Lilith felt a jet of hot, sticky cum spill from his tormentor's cock. A few seconds to gulp for air, then another cock and another load to swallow.
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And then another onslaught. Another brutal rape that made Lillith nearly pass out. Then another load. And another. And another. By the end of the hour, Lillith's body hung limp in the chains, covered in cum from four people. Loincloth, face and tots drenched in cum.
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Next to Lilith, a couple was even more attention. Fat Slave Girl and Nudeboy had a coterie of admirers. A pair of men with the bodies of pro athletes, were taking turns throatfucking the two slaves, all while their girlfriends cheered them on and teased the cock and clit of the helpless slaves.
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But it was the Sybian that did the most damage. When one was in full power, the other buzzed away and did nothing. As one slave thrashed in orgasmic ecstasy, the other slave was sober and aware of exactly how much pleasure they were being deprived.
Between the Sybian and the skilled hands of the two cheerleaders, suddenly and FSG came more times than they could count. Between orgasms, their male executioners plied their chests with floggers, leaving them striped and sensitive.
(to be continued)
