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The Hellfire Club

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TheLimey

Magistrate
The Hellfire Club is a name long associated with debauchery and hedonism, down through the ages from the 1700's.

This will be the place for a version of the Hellfire Club taken from the film 'Demonlover'. An online site where subscribers can pay to have their own twisted desires carried out on slaves.

@Fossy and I invite all to read and contribute if they wish, as we explore the darker corners of 'The Hellfire Club'
 

TheLimey

Magistrate
Slave 102.

I saw her face, and I knew I needed to see more of this fresh faced young woman. I don't know what it was. The look in her eye, the set of the jaw. I just knew I had to click on her profile and see more.

Sounds like a dating website, right? You couldn't be further from the truth. For a start, which dating website had to be accessed via the dark web? Which dating website had a subscription that needed to be paid in Bitcoin? No, this wasn't a dating site.

The click on her profile opened up a page of information. Girl 102, American, early 20's. 32-24-34. A series of photos. A headshot, smiling, blonde hair, curly, but undercut on the left hand side. Hazel eyes. A bikini shot, a full nude shot, revealing small nipples pierced by rings and a shaved cunt. A shot in handcuffs, her mouth stuffed with a ball gag. A list of information. Latino, bisexual, into bondage, humiliation, certainly masochistic.

How did they get those photos, the information? All the girls on the site came here via the same selection process. A trawl through fetish dating sites, through camgirl sites, then a series of blind dates with male and female operatives. Weeding out the poseurs, the party girls. Finding those that really are the freaks, the masochists.

Then, the girls just disappear. Letters saying they'll be travelling the world for a while, they'll contact friends in a few weeks, from South America, from Vietnam, from God only knows where.

In reality, they've been taken. Bundled away in the dead of night. Delivered to one of a select few locations. Delivered to The Hellfire Club.

I logged in fully, the multi-factor authentication onerous, but necessary. I wanted to see the induction video.
A brightly lit room, white walls, white tile on the floor. 102, hanging in a tight spread eagle, chains from ankles and wrists, feet lifted off the floor. A black hood over her head. As the video plays, a woman comes into shot, wearing black fatigue pants and a grey wife beater. The newcomer has close cropped hair, and wears a mask. In her right hand, she holds a many tailed whip.

The woman takes her place to one side of 102, flexes her shoulders and then starts to methodically whip the spreadeagled girl in front of her. I turn up the sound, to hear the crash of the whip, the moans of the girl, muffled by the hood. The camera view switches, to show 102's back, the red weals that are left by every stroke of the whip, marking her from shoulders to upper thighs.

Another camera view pops up, a camera in camera, of 102 from the front. Her chest is heaving, and she's starting to sweat, droplets running from under the hood and from under her arms.

A pause, whilst the woman welding the whip moves to the front of 102. She reaches out, strokes the sweat slick chest, twists at an erect nipple. She laughs at the muffled sob that escapes the hood, then the hand goes straight to the defenseless cunt, fingers easily slipping in. More laughter, and a comment on what an absolute slut 102 is, to get so wet from the whipping.

The camera changes again, a view from the front only. The whip falls again, and the suspended girl starts to wail as the thongs of the whip bite into her tits, her stomach, until they are as striped as her back, and her head hangs forward.

Finally, the woman starts to wield the whip underhand, blow after blow landing between 102's legs. The noise behind the hood is almost animal, until with a flurry of blows, the suspended girl orgasms, convulsing in her bonds, her juices freely flowing onto the white tile beneath.

The hood is removed, and the girl's face is revealed, hair soaked with sweat, face streaked with tears.

'P..p..please! Let me go..! Don't leave me here...'

The screen goes dark, but I can still hear her cries before the video ends. The screen comes up with a familiar message. 'This girl is available for custom scenarios. Gold and Platinum members can put in their requests via the custom link from the profile page.'

I sit back in my chair, and think a while. Then I click the custom link, and start typing.
 

Fossy

Tribune
Slave Girl 148



The girl was cute for sure. Petite, long, lustrous dark hair, and a body that was curvy in the right places, but yet this was the strangest Instagram account I have ever seen. It has 5,362 followers, but yet follows no one. It has only three posts, all pictures of the same girl smiling in what seems like a nice setting, each picture posted several weeks apart over the past two months. This seems strange enough but it’s the comments that really grab my attention.
Girl 148 Club Info.jpeg
“Is this the same girl as girl number 148?” What the fuck is girl number 148?

“This smile is forced. She is a slave being held captive but we don’t know where.” What the fuck?

“This little slut is the hottest thing on the web.” Where could I find her?

I was intrigued. More than intrigued … I was hooked. I Google searched for Girl 148 … and waited.

Nothing. I sighed. What now? I needed to find her. Was this place where she was known as Girl 148 on the Dark Web somewhere. I had to know. I loaded up the Firefox browser to preserve my anonymity and ran the ‘.Onion’ command (don’t ask how I knew to do this!). I felt an excitement in my stomach accessing the Dark Web. Would I really find her on here?

The portal screen opened and I was in. Searching once more in the hidden Wiki revealed several entries for Girl 148 … and all linked to a place called the Hellfire Club. I clicked on one of them.

The display on my MacBook immediately scrambled, only to then reform in a screen headed “Hellfire Club”. Fuck, was this it? It would have been easy to simply ‘go-back’ because this was already looking like some where I shouldn’t be going. But like I already said, I was, by now, filled with an intense lust-fuelled curiosity. The page opened up, or rather its joining screen did. There were no free samples, nothing to entice you … you simply joined or you didn’t. Well I had to of course.

With my heart in my mouth I punched in my card details, chose my password, then my secret Identifier, and the three-factor authentication was established … I was in.

My eyes darted everywhere and nowhere. What was this? A Cam-Site? If so where were the rooms? A porn Chat site, but how did that work when there was nowhere to actually chat … nowhere to type … except for a search box.

I typed in 148 … and there she was! Alice … or so it said in the Club Info, my girl 148. A list of information that also told me that she was 21, Russian, born on August the 15th 1999, and had no allowable limits … It showed more pictures of her. A bikini shot, a lingerie shot, a nude shot of her on a chair with her ankle chained, a shot where she was collared with a thick chain running down the front of her perfectly formed body.

This was indeed the girl from the Instagram site, girl number 148 … I had found her.

The comments on Insta said she was enslaved … held captive … was she? If she was then why was I here? Did I have a desire to save her, or a lust-fuelled need to see her used? I was about to find out.

I had to see more, and so clicked the option for ‘Girl 148 – Induction Video’.

The screen changed to full display showing a bright room; white walls and ceiling and the same coloured apparatus dotted around the room. But of much greater interest was the girl, naked, standing on a chair. Her face was visible, and boy, she truly was lovely. Was she really 21? Her hands were behind her back, cuffed maybe? Around her neck was a tight white collar, with a heavy chain leading upwards towards the ceiling. The stress on her pretty features was clear. The man in the room with her, topless, broad, hairless chest shining with perspiration, began to beat her legs with a mutli-tailed whip. The blows were hard and each one made her thighs tremble and her knees wobble. The girl clearly knew that if she slipped or fell she could easily hang herself, and the strain of that was showing on her face. If that happened would the man save her?

Girl 148 moaned with each strike until the striping of her flesh became too much and she cried out. But she more than cried out … a second camera angle zoomed in on her groin to show the long tail of a remote-controlled vibe sticking out from between the lips of her pussy … her orgasm was being controlled, and the feral like scream revealed that she was about to cum!

The man laughed and struck her hard on the stomach before kicking the chair away!

I was a man of the world, not one easily shocked, but even I had to put my hand to my mouth as I watched poor Girl 148 jerking around, hung by the neck on a tight collar and chain, very clearly climaxing while the man continued to beat her body …

I could not begin to imagine the myriad mix of sensations running through her stimulated body right at that moment. Hung … beaten … orgasming … The viewing was compulsive and I stared like a rabbit into headlamps.

I watched as 148’s eyes rolled into the top of her head, and then as her gyrations became less profound …

“Catch her, hold her you bastard!” I found myself yelling at the screen. And, of course, he did. It was only the induction video after all.

As she collapses into his arms and the screen goes dark, I can hear her quiet groans as the video comes to an end. Then a message in a more familiar style appears in yellow type.

‘This girl is available for custom scenarios. Gold and Platinum members can put in their requests via the custom link from the profile page.’

I am breathless. What have I just witnessed? Was that really Alice, girl 148, the same person in the strange Instagram profile? I pause a while, but all along I know exactly what I am about to do.

I go to ‘My Account’. It takes seconds, and another amount of money, to upgrade to Platinum – in for a penny and all that!

I fill my ‘Hellfire Bank’ with two hundred pounds sterling of Bitcoin, go to Girl 148’s profile, click on the custom link, and start typing.
 
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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
As I had feared after receiving strange and threatening messages on my iPhone, they came for me in the middle of the night.

I had taken every precaution I could think of ... doors and windows locked, security system armed. I stayed up late, sitting at the kitchen table, a baseball bat at my side, waiting and watching, but nothing happened.

Finally deciding that it just been a bad case of nerves, I got up and went into the bathroom for a quick shower before going to bed. The hot water felt good on my naked body, soothing my nerves.

I resolved to stay off that crux-fetish Internet site in the future. I knew it had to be the source of my scare. Somehow I had revealed too much about myself. Careless. Never again, I told myself.

And then it happened. The shower door was flung open and before I could react I was grabbed and tossed out on the bathroom floor. Someone heavy was on top of me, someone else had me by the ankles, and a third was applying a soft smothering cloth to my face ... a cloth with a strange chemical smell.

I went limp, although I retained a low level of consciousness as I was picked up, carried through the house, out the backdoor, across the lawn, and dumped into the open trunk of a car in the alley with its engine running.

The last thing I remembered as the trunk was slammed shut and my mind slowly went blank, was a voice outside the car, saying: “Well done, guys! Another one for the Hellfire Club. What’s her name again? ... Barb ... Barb Moore .., Great! ... Nice body. They’re going to love her. There’s something in this envelope for the three of you!”
 

TheLimey

Magistrate
Slave 102

I didn't visit the site for a couple of days, but when I did, there was a message in the internal nail system. 'Your request has been fulfilled.' Underneath that was a link. I settled back into the chair, and clicked on it.

The video window opened up, 4k quality. 102 in the center of the white tile room again, everything exactly as I had described it.

I wanted to see her orgasm again, wanted also to test her stamina, her endurance. I wanted to see that pretty mouth and shaved cunt abused, over and over again.

She is on all fours, on her forearms and knees. She is held there by a metal contraption like a letter I, laid in the floor. The two cross pieces finish in manacles, which hold her wrists and ankles. There's one further metal piece jutting up, ending in a collar that encircles her neck. It's all been roughly polished and welded together. A very industrial look.

Her head is pulled back, so she is forced to look straight ahead. It's held this way by a rope that has been plaited into the ponytail her hair has been pulled into. The rope runs back to a hook, buried in her arse.

Behind her is a machine, with only one purpose. To mechanically fuck her with the large red dildo that is on the end of an arm. This dildo is a good 10 inches long, and of considerable girth, and flares out towards the base, before reducing back to the size of the rest of the shaft just before the very best base.

In front of her is a similar machine, another enormous cock on the end of the thrusting arm, though it quite as long and without the flare. 102 herself still shows the results of her whipping, red weals crisscrossing her back, wrapping around her sides, and clearly visible from her breasts, which are hanging beneath her. She's breathing heavily, clearly trying to control her panic.

Both dildos have been positioned carefully. At her front, the dildo is just touching her lips, whilst at 102's cunt, it is withdrawn a little further back, ready to part her labia and penetrate her.

A series of links appear on the video window, Cam 2, Cam 3, Cam 4, and I open them all, tiling the feeds that come through so I can see what is going on in each. Cam 2 is fixed on her behind, Can 3 on her face, but Cam 4 is moving, a handheld.

I look at Cam 3. I see a rising fear, her nostrils flaring, a bead of sweat trickling from her hairline, but it's Cam 4 that then grabs my attention. A zoom-in, tight shot on 102's cunt. There's a thin line of liquid running from her cunt, glistening in the light like spider silk. This slave is turned on by this! Perhaps next time, I need to up my game. Still, her ordeal hasn't started yet.

Cam 4 shakes a little as the operator uses his or her other hand to rub a smear of lube onto the rear dildo. Then it starts up, slowly, and I clearly hear the slave's moan as it penetrates her, pushing deeper and deeper, until the moan develops a little edge of pain. It withdraws, but not fully, the tip remaining in her cunt.

There, it pauses.

On Cam 3, I see the dildo push slowly into 102's mouth, spreading the lips and jaw. I hear her gag as it reaches deep inside her, before it too slowly withdraws, again pausing before it fully withdraws.

I realise I'm holding my breath.

When the machines start, it's like watching some perverted steam locomotive picking up speed. There's a fraction of difference between the two, the one in her cunt slightly ahead, and she rocks forward at the end of its advance which forces the dildo in her mouth slightly deeper.

The speed increases and I watch in Cam 3 as each back stroke pulls out threads of drool, which start to run down her chin and onto the floor. Cam 4 is circling her, showing the bulging in her lower abdomen as the dildo fills her cunt, then showing the increasing amounts of juices dripping from her cunt.

The pounding on both ends soon bring her to her first orgasm, a spray of fluid from her cunt soaking the metal below her, but the dildos continue to pound her inexorably, and she becomes a machine herself, orgasm after orgasm ripped from her, sweat pooling on her back, and dripping from her torso.

She's fighting for breath, getting redder and redder in the face, until the dildos slow and then stop. She looks like she's been in a shower, soaked with sweat, drool and her own come, and she can barely support herself.

45 minutes have passed since the start of the assault.

What happens next is something I watch over and over again in the next few days. The machine at her front is removed, but the one at the rear is repositioned, the tip just pressing against her arse hole. Then, slowly, the machine pushes forward, the dildo pushing past the hook that is still in her arse, whilst Cam 3 shows her face contort in pain, a broken voiced cry escaping her battered throat.

That cry becomes a scream as the flare at the base of the dildo forces its way inside her, then slowly starts to pull back out. I check her face, and see her eyes roll back into her head, her whole body shaking as she has one final orgasm, before the screens fade to black.

'Thank you for your suggestion. Further custom scenarios can be suggested using the link on the profile page'

I know I'll have something for her again soon.
 

Fossy

Tribune
Slave Girl 148
I could not think about anything else. It had been almost 48 hours since I had requested a custom session with Girl 148, and the link I had received earlier today told me that the show would be tonight at 11pm UK time.

I felt guilty, excited, apprehensive … in truth I didn’t know how I felt, except for the fact that I felt horny, turned on, lust fuelled! I could barely concentrate on anything … it was a good job that I had my own Graphic Design business, which meant that I didn’t really have to interact at a business level with anyone.

The time passed slowly, very slowly … and by 10:50pm I could hold off no longer. I had thought about logging into the Hellfire Club site earlier, but in truth I wanted to save myself for little Alice …

And so, it was with mounting excitement that I clicked through the required link-trail and I was in.
Girl 148 (2).jpeg

The screen opened up onto a room that was the same bright, white one seen in the induction video. 148 sat in the middle of the room. Strapped to a chair, she shivered in the most delightful manner. A tight silver tape gag closed her mouth and the look of fear on her face, especially in her gorgeous wide eyes, was groin stiffening! I began to finger my cock through my shorts …

The chair in the scene was clearly not any ordinary seat. This was a metal device designed for hard restraint, and the cameras showed that the metal bonds that affixed her to it cut sharply into her wrists, thighs and ankles. There were 4 cam options on the screen. 1-3 seemed to be different angles around the room, and 4 was a handheld view, clearly designed to provide me with a close up of 148’s suffering.

This was my fantasy, or at least one of them, and the fact that I had ‘designed’ this torture for Alice, Girl 148, made it even more erotic.

The room looked very bright and a little surreal, in silver and white. There was highly polished chrome and glass everywhere adding to the sanitised effect.

A door opened slowly, and in walked a huge guy, a Hellfire Club Dom. I had requested that 148 be attended to by a Grade 1 Dom – the most expensive option, but also one experienced in maximising the pain and torture. He made his entrance wearing leather pants, his chest bare, hairless and already glistening …

148 bucked against the metal straps that held her tightly to the cold, steel platform; but her situation was futile, and she knew it, as her efforts led to a clanking sound that only added to the presentation of her helplessness. But the Dom was not done, and was taking great delight in intensifying the plight and fear of his captive, even before her torture began.

Flipping out my erection I took it into my hand and gazed intensely at the screen.

He reached to the side of the chair where a series of buttons and levers protruded ominously. With the flick of a switch by the Dom, I first heard a low hum, and then watched 148 convulse a little as if she had been pushed in the lower back.

Something was slowly pushing her upwards and the effect was intense … 148 was forced to arch her back, pushing her belly and naked breasts out and stretching her limbs in their steel straps. She moaned into her tape gag as the steel dildo penetrated her to the core and forced her lithe body to its bound limits.

The Dominant then reached for a lever and pulled it down with a jolt that shook the girl. A message appeared at the bottom of my screen …

“The lever just pulled has released bursts of low current at Girl 148’s wrist, ankle and thigh restraints”

Her eyes widened and she made a muffled sound that without the gag might well have been a scream.

Another lever was activated, and suddenly blue sparks began to appear from the point of the insertion between her thighs. The helpless young girl struggled as much as she was able, as a faint layer of perspiration began to form on her skin. The switch dial was turned up and several bolts of sharp, blue current arced over her stomach.

Another message ...

“Girl 148 is now experiencing a total voltage of 100v AC through her limbs and at the point between her thighs. The sensation will feel like she is being electrocuted all over her body.”

Fuck, this must have been indescribable in its intensity. 148 tried desperately to struggle away from the pain, but she was completely stretched and her movements were so obviously futile. Her eyes went wide as clear panic set in and she began to scream into the gag, her cheeks bulging with effort, until the current was switched off … offering the poor girl temporary respite.

I jerked my cock faster, not ready to climax yet, but needing to feel stimulation of my own.

The horrified look in 148’s eyes, as the Dom once more reached for the switches, was a delight. He pressed and turned, and I was presented with another message.

“The thick, copper coloured bands that are strapping 148’s upper thighs to the device will begin to tingle and then they too will emit an electrical current, taking the new total voltage being passed through her body to 120v AC. This is the maximum safe voltage level.”

And then it happened, and the result was terrifying. 148 began to scream uncontrollably and pulled desperately at her restraints. It appeared as if little Alice was about to go mad, as her chest heaved demonstrating the fact that she was having trouble breathing, clearly gasping for air from behind the gag. Thenit was switched off and 148 seemed to collapse in the chair.

A new message appeared;

“For the final part of the torment, Girl 148 will experience an orgasm while the AC being passed through her body is raised to 140v with the addition of nipples clamps.”

I watched as a large male hand pulled first one alligator clip from the head rest of the chair and attached it to an erect left nipple. 148’s resounding squeal was delicious. He repeated the action with her right nipples.

I then selected the hand held cam option that showed a close up of her pussy. The Dom attached a small clip to her exposed clitoris, which in turn ran via a cable to the dildo embedded within her body.

Fuck! I was ready to explode, but somehow managed to deny myself that pleasure … at least for now.

A switch was pressed. The dildo began to vibrate inside her pussy, clearly sending similar sensations into her clit. 148 stiffened and then her stomach convulsed delightfully. I watched as her eyes rolled and she began to tremble …

She was on the verge, moving nearer to the edge. The dildo was driving her on and on and then, with perfect timing, all voltage points were activated, including the new current jolting into her nipples, and 140v AC was passed through her body just at the point of orgasm …

For several glorious minutes 148 was shocked while the climax flowed through her nubile shape. She involuntarily shook, convulsed and writhed … and as she squirted her copious release, I groaned and my juices arced into the air falling around my fist …

148 sat unmoving in the chair. I sat back panting my own exhaustion. The show had lasted for around 45 minutes. It was one of the most exhilarating 45 minutes of my life. I would most definitely be back to use Girl 148 again …
 
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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
Slowly, whatever they had drugged me with began to wear off and, as I fought off recurrent waves of dizziness and disorientation, I began to take stock of my surroundings and desperate situation.

I was seated, stark naked, on what felt like a hard metal chair. I tried to get up but couldn’t. I quickly found that I had been restrained at ankles, wrists and arms by leather straps. I was bound tightly to the chair.

The room was cold ... not very large and without windows or any discernible openings .. faceless and very very cold. I shivered as a fan kicked in overhead to blow a fresh gust of refrigerated air over me. Looking down, I became aware of a pair of electrical wires, each attached by an alligator clip to my nipples.

“Shit!” I cried, “What the fuck is going on?”

My cry was answered by an electronic buzz, some static, and a blinding light switched on to shine directly into my face.

“Ahh, Ms. Moore. I see you’ve come around at last. Welcome to the Hellfire Club!” said a strangely disembodied metallic voice from somewhere outside the room.

“Who are you? What’s this all about?” I whined, disoriented and thoroughly frightened.

“Who I am matters not,” rasped the reply. “You are at one of the Hellfire Club’s regional induction centers. You are being processed this morning. You and I have a number of matters to go over now, so let’s get started.”

“What the fuck! Let me go! I know nothing of any Hellfire Club!”

“Well, you soon will know much more about our organization. But for now let’s stop wasting time and get down to business. And just a warning, Ms. Moore, any outbursts or resistance will earn you a painful electrical zap through your lovely pair of titties ... like this!”

“Arrggghh ... My God ... ohhhhh ... turn it off ... Shit! ... turn it off, for the love of God, please!”

“Alright, let’s get down to business then, Ms. Moore. We need to create a profile on you that can be used to advertise your desirability to the disparate special tastes of our paying clients. Now we know some things about you due to your careless indiscretions on the website, CruxForums, where you are known as Barbaria1. We were able from things you said there to determine roughly where you live and work, and by some clever electronic tracing were able to identify your home address, and send a team out to abduct you. But, now for marketing purposes, please state your true name. Are you truly, as often implied on that site, Barbara Ann Moore?”

“What if I am?”

“I’ll take that as an affirmative response, and let me remind you that any further insolence will earn you a nice shock.”

“Okay ... don’t zap me. What do you need to know?”

“Everything Ms. Moore! We need to know everything personal there is to know about you, particularly the details of your sexual experiences, back as far as you can remember, your kinks, your likes, your taboos. Our clients crave these little tidbits, you see. And, oh, by the way, from now on you will be referred to here by a number. You are 169.”

“I am? What does that mean?”

“It’s who you are, 169. Now let’s proceed.”
 
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Fossy

Tribune
Slowly, whatever they had drugged me with began to wear off and, as I fought off recurrent waves of dizziness and disorientation, I began to take stock of my surroundings and desperate situation.

I was seated, stark naked, on what felt like a hard metal chair. I tried to get up but couldn’t. I quickly found that I had been restrained at ankles, wrists and arms by leather straps. I was bound tightly to the chair.

The room was cold ... not very large and without windows or any discernible openings .. faceless and very very cold. I shivered as a fan kicked in overhead to blow a fresh gust of refrigerated air over me. Looking down, I became aware of a pair of electrical wires, each attached by an alligator clip to my nipples.

“Shit!” I cried, “What the fuck is going on?”

My cry was answered by an electronic buzz, some static, and a blinding light switched on to shine directly into my face.

“Ahh, Ms. Moore. I see you’ve come around at last. Welcome to the Hellfire Club!” said a strangely disembodied metallic voice from somewhere outside the room.

“Who are you? What’s this all about?” I whined, disoriented and thoroughly frightened.

“Who I am matters not,” rasped the reply. “You are at one of the Hellfire Club’s regional induction centers. You are being processed this morning. You and I have a number of matters to go over now, so let’s get started.”

“What the fuck! Let me go! I know nothing of any Hellfire Club!”

“Well, you soon will know much more about our organization. But for now let’s stop wasting time and get down to business. And just a warning, Ms. Moore, any outbursts or resistance will earn you a painful electrical zap through your lovely pair of titties ... like this!”

“Arrggghh ... My God ... ohhhhh ... turn it off ... Shit! ... turn it off, for the love of God, please!”

“Alright, let’s get down to business then, Ms. Moore. We need to create a profile on you that can be used to advertise your desirability to the disparate special tastes of our paying clients. Now we know some things about you due to your careless indiscretions on the website, CruxForums, where you are known as Barbaria1. We were able from things you said there to determine roughly where you live and work, and by some clever electronic tracing were able to identify your home address, and send a team out to abduct you. But, now for marketing purposes, please state your true name. Are you truly, as often implied on that site, Barbara Ann Moore?”

“What if I am?”

“I’ll take that as an affirmative response, and let me remind you that any further insolence will earn you a nice shock.”

“Okay ... don’t zap me. What do you need to know?”

“Everything Ms. Moore! We need to know everything personal there is to know about you, particularly the details of your sexual experiences, back as far as you can remember, your kinks, your likes, your taboos. Our clients crave these little tidbits, you see. And, oh, by the way, from now on you will be referred to here by a number. You are 169.”

“I am? What does that mean?”

“It’s who you are, 169. Now let’s proceed.”
"We need to know everything personal there is to know about you, particularly the details of your sexual experiences ..." Wow, I hope he's allowed sufficient time :)
 

Fossy

Tribune
GIRL 169

It was a whole 24 hours after that damn session at the Hellfire Club with Girl 148, and I could still think about very little else. The ‘performance’ had shut down upon the collapsing of young Alice into a blissfully unconscious state, and I still had no way of checking her condition. Was she okay? Did the club owners and Dominants really know what they were doing to the point where they genuinely cared about the lives of their ‘slave’ girls, or were they simply interested in making sure that the punters, ie me, went away happy … no, more than happy, much more than simply ‘happy’, more like awe-struck!

Watching the overwhelming electrical current being passed through her nubile, slender, delicate body really had been, literally, ‘awesome’, especially as the whole terrible session had culminated in the electrocution being compounded by one hell of an intense orgasm. Fuck! Knowing that the whole scene had been directed, not to mention paid for, by me, made one feel, and I say this without one intended word of blasphemy, God-like, for which I received a uniquely personal service that made all the effort and money more than worthwhile!

I wanted more, but equally I didn’t. I didn’t because I wasn’t used to the lack of post-experience control that I had, or rather ‘did not’ have. I could have killed her, or at least my instructions could have! I had no way of knowing. But the real, true essence of this new found pastime, if I could call it that, is that I do want more. Much more. Alice … Girl 148, was a gem, and yes, I had a desire to want to save her from the terrible things that were being done to her, wasn’t that natural? But moreover, I wanted to see her suffer!
Girl 169 Info Sheet.jpeg
I tapped at the keyboard. I knew the route into the Hellfire Club now, and my security checks were quickly satisfied. Should I book her again …

For some reason my gaze was caught by the yellow highlighted ‘Newcomer’ feature. I hadn’t noticed this lit up before, maybe they didn’t get new girls very often. I clicked and saw a single entry.

Girl 169 – Barbara Ann Moore … was all it said. But it was a live url and so I clicked and saw her short Info sheet and picture appear.

Fuck! Yes! Wow!

Indeterminate age, but who gives a fuck? This girl was painfully sexual and gorgeous with it! Long dark hair and a petite body that was curvy in ALL the right places … not dissimilar to Girl 148, and certainly very much my type!

And look at the manner in which they have her secured. A metal pole which sports a pair of chains attached to her ankles, and a steel dildo that is, presumably, embedded deeply inside her stunning body. Her wrists were cuffed by thick, metal cuffs which were, in turn connected to a steel collar that was fitted around her neck. Girl 169 could not move, and oh the agony of being forced to stand in such a manner, and with the steel phallus inside her too.

I just had to see more and so I clicked on the link marked ‘Induction video’.
 
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Fossy

Tribune
Girl 169 - Induction
There was always a short wait once the link to a girl’s induction video had been clicked. When I say always, that was certainly the case with Alice, Girl 148, and it seemed to be the case here too with Barb, Girl 169.

169 was new. There was no archive of recordings of Barbara Ann for members to access and review, and the fact that she remained untried at the Club somehow made things even more sensual. Eventually the screen scrambled and the video appeared. This wasn’t live, this was the video made to ‘sell’ the girl so that the members would wish to pay for a custom experience. If the experience I had had with 148 was anything to go by, I could not see myself holding back as far as the wonderfully sexy 169 was concerned …

She was in a bright square room. The walls, floor and ceiling were white cushioned leather, with soft led lighting strips at every corner. She was on her knees, and the item between her legs was a sybian vibrator. A brown saddle with a vibrating dildo protruding from the top, which was currently working away inside her, vibrating against her opened and pliant lips, accompanied by pads that massaged her clit at the same frequency. This was hot, very hot.
Girl 169 Induction.jpeg

To add to her situation her arms were secured behind a small metal cross to which she had been secured. Cuffed at the wrists by heavy manacles and chains, locked with a gleaming steel padlock, her neck bore a tight silver metal collar which too was attached to the upright of the small cross, as was the very tight steel waist band. Her ankles were not visible but it was easy and natural to assume that they too were padlocked to the metal bars. 169 was not going anywhere.

The visible floor space contained a small rug-like covering that both she and the sybian sat in the centre of. She tugged wonderfully at the restraints, beginning to whimper in growing panic, her face an exquisite picture of anguish, and there was no flex in the chains and cuffs, she couldn't reach anywhere near the vibrator’s mechanics or controls. As I watched with a growing fascination and increased intensity, I could hear the vibration speed up a little, no doubt sending a jolt through her body as the pleasure intensified.

Despite the torment etched into her features, the occasional flash of pleasure overcame 169’s expression. She was wearing a little make-up, it was subtle and tasteful, a slight blush to her cheeks to accentuate her pretty face and small button nose. Her eyebrows had been brushed with a darker shade, framing her eyes which shone with a growing desperation. Her appearance was facially demure and did not in any way complement the lewd lude situation she was in, but damn if it didn’t fuel the lust already apparent in this beautifully stimulating scene.

The soft lighting created a striking image. 169 looked amazing.

"What is this!? Why are you doing this to me!?" 169 cried out. The Hellfire Club video editors had obviously decided to keep her pleas of desperation in. It was a good decision on their part, because hearing 169’s voice echo around the room above the quiet whir of the sybian, simply added to her allure.

"Oh n-no," she whimpered, "No please."

Her body looked like it was screaming internally for climax, and the trembling of her thighs told me that she was ready. Could she hold it in … did she want to …?

The idea of her forced orgasms being shot for all and sundry to see was so hot. Such a turn on. Not quite the same as a live personal show, but very erotic all the same. 169 thrashed in her bonds, pulling at the chains and contorting her torso, squirming over the intrusive vibrations of the sybian, and succeeding only in dragging her pussy over the pads even more. Her upper body was all that moved, and as she clearly fought the pleasure it seemingly only made the vibrations intensify. Her breasts bounced deliciously as she squirmed, her pony tail flailing and the sybian saddle squeaking under the movement.

I saw her stomach convulse as the sensations clearly grew. Was she holding her breath? Her mouth stretched with tight-lipped determination, her teeth gritted … beautiful! 169 was trying desperately to fight the growing sensations, but her resistance was weakening as she looked to be tiring. The pressure of the pleasure was beating her, and I knew that she would want that release so badly … but 169 was not ready to accept defeat it would appear. Her cheeks burned red, but then her eyes shot open, staring directly into the camera and pleading silently for the vibrations to stop. She couldn't take it anymore, she was on fire as the sybian played her body to a fine tune.

Fuck! Now I was hard, very hard!

"No! No!" she shrieked as an obvious orgasm came crashing over her body. Her back arched, stretching up and away from the cross frame as the pleasure flowed through her body. 169 screamed out loudly and her body shook with the overwhelming climax. The chained girl gasped for air as she finally simmered back down, the vibrations quietening, slowing to ease her back to reality as the hand-cam view close up showed the slick juices now coating the sybian pads. Then, out of nowhere, she gave a high-pitched squeal of despair, before her body was suddenly spun on the floor covering, which appeared to hide some sort of rotating platform upon which the sybian was mounted, and so now the viewers had a completely different view of 169’s torment.

She'd been turned 180 degrees, and newly presented view showed her side on, lower down just beyond where her hands were chained to the platform. Her tied hair and tensed back were in view, her slim figure emphasised by back-dimples shadowing the smooth flesh, as she sat upright as much as the chains on her arms would allow. Her perky, tight ass was in view, occasionally jerking as the vibrations continued to play with her sensitive clit, forcing her body to jolt again and again. 169 was so clearly desperate for this ordeal to end, though it was obvious that the sybian was nowhere near finished with her

Just then the screen blanked and scrambled to black. A yellow typed message appeared before me … “Do you want to make 169 dance to your own tune. Go to her profile and request a custom session.”

That instruction was, by now, very familiar. I opened her profile, went to Custom Link, and began typing.
 
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TheLimey

Magistrate
Slave 102

It was a week before I logged in again, in order to enter my new custom scenario for 102. In my internal mail was an alert. '102 has a new video'.

In a way, that annoyed me. Stupid, I know. There must be many people around the globe looking at this site, and a proportion of them must be Gold or Platinum, and so able to request custom videos. It just felt wrong, like someone was playing with my toy.

When I clicked on the video link, it opens on a different cell in whatever facility 102 is being held in. Rough concrete walls, peeling paint, and harsh lighting, 102 in the center of the frame, naked, sat on her backside against the wall.

There's a heavy iron collar around her neck, with two lengths of iron rod running from either side of her neck to her ankles, which are manacled to the end. This draws her legs up so they are bent at the knees, but spread wide, displaying her cunt. Her wrists are manacled to rods half way down their length.

Her head is held in a classic scold's bridle. Metal encircles her head, a chain from the crown of her head disappearing out of sight at the top of the view. Loops of chain hold the base of the bridle to the collar around her neck. Her mouth is being held open, and I can see the metal bar that's holding her tongue down. She must have been in place for a while, as drool has freely flowed from her open mouth, and has left a shining trail between her tits almost to her cunt.

There's the sound of a winch, out of sight, and the chain to the top of the bridle, tightens up slowly. 102 moans as it pulls at her neck, but the moans turn to cries of pain as the chain continues to pull, until she is bodily lifted off the floor, inch by inch.

She's crying, tears running down her face. A woman walks into shot, long brunette hair pulled back in a ponytail, in the uniform of the Club of black fatigue pants and a grey wifebeater. She puts a piece of wood on the ground beneath 102, and I lick my lips as I see that the top surface is a series of carved wooden points.

The winch sound again, and 102 is dropped towards the spiked board, until the weight is taken off her head and neck. It's an improvement, but not by much. The spikes soon start to make their presence felt, digging into her flesh, one of the spikes pressing into her cunt. She's making little moaning noises, wriggling a little to ease her position.

I hear the guard ask a question. 'This goes up your ass if I remove the spikes...' 102 stakes her head as much as she can.

Five minutes pass. There's sweat on 102's face, and she's crying again. The guard speaks again. 'You know what you need to accept.'

This time, 102 nods.

The guard unlocks the chain from the bridle, then lifts 192 off the spikes herself, tipping her over so she lies on one side, her arse towards the camera. I can clearly see red scratch's left on her skin by the spiked board.. With the metal rods still in place, her arse and cunt are obscenely on display.

The female guard gathers drool from 102's mouth, reaching in with her fingers, and applies it to a steel plug she has in one hand. There's a series of lines running from the tip to the base of the plug, and the base has a ring set into the bottom, below a flared plate. The guard places to tip against 102's arsehole, using her other hand to spread it open. As she pushes, 102 moans in pain, but the plug soon disappears into 102's arse, leaving just the base and the ring outside.

Then, slowly, the guard turns the ring, and I realise that the plug is an expanding pear. Inside 102's arse, the petals must be opening up, and I see 102 start to realise it. Soon she's thrashing in her bondage, animal noises escaping the bridle.

The guard stops turning the ring, then starts to rub at 102's cunt, which is glistening with fluid. First one, then two, then finally all four fingers slip easily inside, the thumb of the guard's hand resting on 102's swollen clit.

In the next five minutes, the guard rips orgasm after orgasm from the tortured girl in front of her, until it seems like there is no gap between them. Each orgasm brings a spray of fluid, much of it running over 102's torso, mixing with the sweat that is coating her skin.

The guard steps back, laughing then walks away. The camera zooms into 102's face, one side against the floor because of the position she is in. Drool has pooled on the floor under her face.

A door slams, then the lights go out. The video ends.

My mind is certain now. I need to see more of this slut. I need to see her suffer in a fashion of my choosing. I hit the custom link, and start to type.

*

I finish my request and hit send, then go back to the display of slaves. There's a new one there, Slave 169. I read her bio, watch her induction video. Something suggests she'd look good on a cross.

I hit the custom request link on her page....
 

Fossy

Tribune
Slave Girl 169 - Custom Request


This thing, The Hellfire Club, had taken over my life, or at least my every waking thought and many of my sleeping ones too! My obsession was based around two girls, numbers really … 148 and 169 … Alice and Barbara (@Barbaria1 ). Imagine if I began to look through the tens, possibly hundreds, of other girls that were on the Hellfire Club site! My life would be over!

No one knew about my new obsession. I worked in my own small, home-based studio, doing my Graphic Design work, and so needed little by way of business interaction. I had plenty of friends, including Charli, my girlfriend, who right now, and somewhat conveniently, was on a business trip of her own for the next week or so across in the Eastern States. As PA to the CEO of a large UK based Pharma company, Charli often flew with Sir Michael, out to Boston or elsewhere. I could handle a phone call or two with her, but was actually pleased that right now she wasn’t here to see how distracted with life I had become.

I knew it wasn’t healthy … I also knew how expensive it could be, but yet here I was again just two days after seeing 169’s induction video. I was determined to spend more money, although I was also very aware of keeping a check on that aspect … so had loaded up my Hellfire Account with Bitcoin once more.

Torn between petite, young Alice and the slightly older, but no less sensual, Barbara Ann, I toggled the Info Bio’s. 148-169 … 148-169 … fuck it!

169 it was. In seconds I had the message screen open for her custom window and, having confirming my payment details, I began to type.

“I would like to see Girl 169 once again heavily shackled in metal bondage. I want to see the fear in her eyes and the sensuality in her body. I want her naked, but in bondage. I have paid for a Grade 1 Dom and a Female counter part …”

I had seen Male and Female Dom/Dommes work in tandem before on Pornhub and it was so hot. A little more expensive but worth it, or so I hoped. I continued to type.

“… and want to see them slowly free her from the metal only to re-secure her, and torture her in whatever way they think will bring her pain and maybe just a little pleasure …” I knew that I could ask for more, or should I say ‘worse’, but I wasn’t at that level yet. This was a real person I was playing with, a fact that still played on my mind.

I pressed enter and sat back, the pit of my stomach burning with excitement.


******


With 148 my custom request took 48 hours, but with 169, maybe because she was new and did not yet have the following of 148, I had a response by the afternoon of the very same day.

“Your custom fantasy for Girl 169 is being shot today. You will have a link to watch it by 11pm this evening in your (UK) time. Thank you for your support.”

Wow. Slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t be seeing it live, they hadn't made that clear when booking, but maybe that too was due to 169’s ‘inexperience’. The custom experience with 148 had been real time, and so freaking hot, which could have been why it took 48 hours to set up. I guessed all of the custom requests that included the ‘interaction’ option were real time, but that was an upgrade feature which I hadn’t graduated to paying for … yet.

And so that was it. The instruction from The Club had been sent through, and now the rest of my day was completely ruined due my immediate and all-consuming distraction. Charli called and I let her go to voice mail … I couldn’t answer because I was jerking off to mind images of both 169 and 148 … when I say jerking off, I was disciplining myself to edge repeatedly in preparation for lasting a whole custom show without spilling my juices.

No more work was done that day, and I managed to microwave a ready email for sustenance. By the time 11pm came around I was sitting by my MacBook, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, with a beer already poured and waiting, my erection already achingly hard in stimulated anticipation of what I was about to witness.

10:58pm. I clicked on the link and watched as the screen first of all went dark, then scrambled, and then opened up on the same room as before. And there she was in all her naked, metal-bound glory. Girl 169 … looking scared to death … her fate sealed, a fate that she clearly remained blissfully unaware of!
Girl 169 - 3.jpeg

To Be Continued …
 
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Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
What the fuck have I gotten myself into here? Only a few days have passed since my abduction and induction into this unimaginable nightmare they call the Hellfire Club. At first I thought It was just that ... a nightmare. But no, it was real ... very real.

In the beginning it was disorienting and quite frightening ... the blank faceless cubicle, my nakedness, the restraints, the disembodied voice, the chill in the air, the electric shocks, the demanded answers to the most private ... most intimate facts about myself ... the reduction of my identity to a single number ... 169.

Later I fell into despair as the realization that I was doomed to spend the rest of my useful life ... as defined by my abductors ... as nothing more than a much abused sex slave ... rented and viewed for enjoyment by a paying client while I endured the most vile degradations and painful tortures.

My handlers ... I will call them that as they remain faceless ... always masked in my presence or unseen because they have hooded me ... treat me with total indifference. Any attempt to engage them ... to appeal to their humanity ... is met with stony silence or blows.

My first contact with them was when my induction video was produced, a most humiliating experience in which I was trussed with metallic restraints and forced to orgasm before an unblinking and all-capturing video cam lens. I fought the inevitable as long as I could, unwilling to give them any satisfaction ... but succumbed as they knew I would.

And now, having been informed that a client has paid to see me perform, I have been laid ...naked and bound ... on a mat on the floor of my cubicle, as the video equipment and tools of restrain are set in place.

Who is this client? What has he, or is it a she, paid to see done to me. Whatever it is ... it can’t be good!
 

Fossy

Tribune
What the fuck have I gotten myself into here? Only a few days have passed since my abduction and induction into this unimaginable nightmare they call the Hellfire Club. At first I thought It was just that ... a nightmare. But no, it was real ... very real.

In the beginning it was disorienting and quite frightening ... the blank faceless cubicle, my nakedness, the restraints, the disembodied voice, the chill in the air, the electric shocks, the demanded answers to the most private ... most intimate facts about myself ... the reduction of my identity to a single number ... 169.

Later I fell into despair as the realization that I was doomed to spend the rest of my useful life ... as defined by my abductors ... as nothing more than a much abused sex slave ... rented and viewed for enjoyment by a paying client while I endured the most vile degradations and painful tortures.

My handlers ... I will call them that as they remain faceless ... always masked in my presence or unseen because they have hooded me ... treat me with total indifference. Any attempt to engage them ... to appeal to their humanity ... is met with stony silence or blows.

My first contact with them was when my induction video was produced, a most humiliating experience in which I was trussed with metallic restraints and forced to orgasm before an unblinking and all-capturing video cam lens. I fought the inevitable as long as I could, unwilling to give them any satisfaction ... but succumbed as they knew I would.

And now, having been informed that a client has paid to see me perform, I have been laid ...naked and bound ... on a mat on the floor of my cubicle, as the video equipment and tools of restrain are set in place.

Who is this client? What has he, or is it a she, paid to see done to me. Whatever it is ... it can’t be good!
"Whatever it is ... it can’t be good! ..." On that you can rest assured 169 ...
 
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