Ademetos presents

Tanya - Part 4, A Weekend With Guests

A Tanya series story
Extreme, F, f, M+, Real Life, Humiliation, Pain, Sadism, Scat, Water Sports, Non-Consensual

A Weekend Break

Liberation from slave labour came suddenly and unexpectedly. She was staggering under the weight of a huge rock when a guard approached her. He whipped her a couple of times, threw the rock to the ground, and told her to follow him. She followed him down the track to the chateau in silence. Soon she was in the cellar again, in another cell, and in a tiny cage where she could barely move at all. A short chain around her neck held her face inside a bowl, filled with food. Disgusting food, a mixture of leftovers and swill and shit all stirred up together, but she was so ravenous that even this was welcome. She ate like an animal.

She stayed in the cage, in the cell, for six days - although she had no way to know that. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but she wasn't beaten or raped, not much anyway, and the food bowl was topped up every few hours so she had plenty to eat. The truth was that they knew she had to rest and recover from her slavery, and let her wounds and bruises heal, before she would be any use for her next task. One day her nipples were pierced, and her pussy lips, and thick rings forced into them. The guards thoughtfully kept her new piercings clean by pissing on them, when they remembered. As an afterthought, the next day, her septum was pierced, and a thick ring pushed through that too, just like an animal in a market.

Finally she was led to the Master again, crawling on her belly from her cell to the room where he held court, encouraged by kicks and blows from the guards. Her body ached all over, from the weeks of slave labour and days of being confined to the tiny cage.

"Ah, Shithead, how nice to see you again after all this time. I'm sorry to drag you away from your work, I'm sure you must be getting used to it by now, but we need you to do something else. Oh, but stand up, come on, no need to skulk around on the floor like that."

She stood up, slowly and painfully, stumbling a couple of times. Her cramped muscles trembled, it was very hard for her to stand. There were several other women in the room, including Chatty. They were all skinny to the point of emaciation, and all showed signs of beatings, recent and older. They stood up straight, or as straight as they could, some in obvious pain and fidgeting on painful legs and feet. Nobody said anything, not even the Master. Then a door opened and Trixie appeared, being led by a guard. She was still wearing the same street-tart outfit. The inner sides of her stockings were black with thick, clotted dried blood. Fresh blood trickled down her thighs. She was obviously still being fucked with the awful punishment dildo. She was whimpering and weeping as she staggered into the room. Her body was fatter than ever, her pasty thighs wobbling with every movement and her fat belly drooping down over her crotch. She must have weighed as much as any three of the other girls.

Eventually, the Master arrived, and spoke. "This weekend is a big weekend. As some of our older guests will know - those that can still make it - every now and then we have a big party with lots of guests from all over the world. They pay a lot of money to come, and they expect to be amused and entertained in style. In some ways we're a bit limited by our rather awkward location - necessary, but inconvenient - but there are things we can do for them that nobody else in the world can. Nobody. Hideous executions, torture, rape, brutality, that's really our world exclusive. Now don't worry, you'll all get to play your part in that. But most important we have to look after our guests, we have to treat them just like a top-class hotel, good food, excellent service. And accompanied by the rather unusual opportunity to torture and rape the staff. Shithead, I believe you were at the Intercontinental just a few weeks ago, and I'm sure you'll agree that those services just weren't available?"

Poor Tanya. It was especially cruel to remind her of how sudden had been her fall from luxury and privilege, to the slavery and brutality of her new life. She'd almost forgotten those last nights of leisure, when her body was still her own, when she had never in her whole life felt a single blow, when her pussy was still unraped and under her own control, before she became Shithead, her hair and head a solid mass of foul, disgusting sewage.

He continued, ignoring her plight. "So we'll need chambermaids, kitchen help, waitresses... not to mention whores and cunts, human toilets, victims for every kind of torment and perverted pleasure, and victims for our more public demonstrations as well. You'll all be kept very busy. A good time will be had by all - well, not including any of you of course. You'll all get your own orders later on."

The Weekend Begins

Tanya's first assignment was as a maid, getting the house ready for the guests. She cleaned, mopped floors, made beds - nothing very strenuous. She was dressed, like the other maids, in a short black skirt, a top that left her tits exposed, black stockings, and extremely high heels. She'd worn shoes like this when she was a model, and found it almost impossible to stay upright on the catwalk. Now she had to strut about for hours, carrying heavy things and staggering from room to room, often under the watchful eyes of the guards. Even when there were no guards, they'd been warned that the rooms had cameras and they could be watched at any time. It must have been true, because when Tanya's partner sat down on a bed for a moment, taking the weight off her ridiculous heels, a guard showed up minutes later and beat her viciously, ignoring her screams and moans until she was a terrified, quivering huddle on the floor, blood oozing from her open wounds. Tanya was very careful after that.

She could barely see what she was doing, thanks to the rubber hood that covered her whole head. When preparing her for duty, the Mistress said she could hardly go round with bits of dried shit falling from her hair like dandruff, so her hair and skin were all covered in a mask that looked almost like a normal woman, with a long blonde wig. Only she knew the truth, that her once-beautiful hair was now a solid mass of shit that itched all the time and drove her crazy under the sweaty, prickly rubber. The guards still took advantage, fucking her in both holes with their cocks, their sticks, and anything else that came to hand, and beating her tits and bottoms and thighs just for the pleasure of hearing her squeal and scream. But still, being a maid was so much easier than working in the quarry that it seemed almost like a holiday to her.

But when she came to the room she'd slept in, she burst into tears. Her companion, still moaning in pain from her beating, looked at her questioningly but didn't dare say anything. Tanya remembered how she had lain in bed on that last morning of liberty, admiring her beautiful body and caressing herself to gentle pleasure as she looked in the mirror. She sobbed as she remembered that last night of privilege, of sleeping under the thick duvet in comfort and luxury. That life was past now, only vaguely remembered through the daily pain, fatigue and humiliation. She still had vivid dreams of her rescue, of Carlos swooping down in his helicopter, killing her tormentors and whisking her away. Why was he taking so long? Surely he must know by now, and with all his resources he must be able to track her down? Where could he be?

She spent the night on a hard, cold stone floor at the back of the kitchen, her legs spread wide open and big wooden clubs tied into her cunt and anus. The guard who tied her up told her, once he'd finished raping her, that it would get her ready for the weekend. Then he pissed over her and left her to a short and uncomfortable sleep.

She was woken early the next morning, while it was still dark, and put to work again cleaning and preparing for the visitors, staggering round on her impossible heels, her cunt and anus bruised from their overnight punishment. After she had been working for hours, she was surprised to be dragged away from her chores to the grand front of the house, as part of the welcoming committee. Three big black limos arrived, including the one that collected her when she still a glamorous, normal person, before she became a shit-infested sex slave. Several men were led from the cars by the drivers, some old and some young. The Master spoke. After welcoming them effusively, he said, "Here is our newest acquisition. We've kept her in good shape specially for this weekend, as you can see. Her holes are all still fully functional and available, and she just loves being fucked, and sucking, don't you shithead?"

She nodded. He continued. "We call her shithead because I'm afraid she does have a bit of a personal hygiene problem. She just can't help rubbing shit into her hair, she loves it, don't you my dear?" She nodded again, tears in her eyes at the bitter humiliation. "For now we've covered it all up with a wig, but later on we'll let her show herself as she really is". He carried on for a while, describing her, her humiliation and how low he had sunk, until eventually she started to sob, tears oozing out of the eye-holes in the rubber mask.

"Dear me, she's getting all emotional. She's just such a delicate little thing. Now would any of you like to do anything with her right now? Fuck one of her pretty little holes, smack her pert little bottom, piss into her mouth, anything like that?"

They did, encouraging each other to be more and more outrageous with her. Finally, with cum dribbling down her thighs, piss in her belly and soaking her head, her flesh sore from being spanked and beaten, she was put to work carrying their heavy bags to their rooms, still staggering in her heels.

That evening, Tanya was one of the slaves chosen to serve dinner. The Master explained to here that as the newest girl there, still unmutilated and looking almost normal (apart from her unfortunate hygiene habits), she would be quite the star of the weekend. "I'm sure everybody will want to have their turn with you. Some might even be gentle with you, seeing that you still seem rather normal - unlike, say, poor Chatty here. Others I'm afraid will just be their usual brutal selves, there's nothing to be done about that."

So that evening she was in the Great Hall at dinner time, along with Chatty and two other girls, one a male slave though dressed just like the others. During the afternoon they had bound her tits tight at their base, making them stick out like torpedoes, then injected over a litre of saline into each one. Now they were huge and rock-hard, ridiculously provocative, an effect enhanced by the giant rings that had been forced into the tender, barely-healed piercings. Tucked under the giant tits she wore a very short maid's apron, brand new black stockings, and  impossibly high black sandals. Her face and head were still covered by the mask and a long blonde wig, hiding the stinking filth underneath.

The three girls worked hard, fetching food, clearing used dishes, serving wine and food. They were constantly groped and molested as they did so, not only by the guests but by the cook and by the guards working in the kitchen. Once the third girl tripped, sending a pile of dishes clattering to the dining room floor. Instantly, at a word from the Master, she was seized by the guards, beaten, and hot oil from the kitchen poured over her belly. She screamed hideously, but as soon as they had finished with her she was put to work clearing up the mess she had made.

Tanya was starved, as always. Serving the rich, delicious food was a terrible torment. The maids had been starved for three days beforehand, as an extra torment - she hadn't even been given shit or swill to eat. What she would have given for just one mouthful of the food she was carrying or even the mess left on the plates she cleared. But she knew how severe the punishment would be if she took even a tiny taste. Sometimes though the guests amused themselves by throwing food on the floor, and watching the maids fight for it. They were strictly forbidden to try if they were working in any way, so when a guest threw a roast potato - a whole one, undamaged! - poor Tanya was carrying empty dishes and could only watch as another maid threw herself to the floor and wolfed it down. The fisting she received immediately afterwards, from the same guest, was a small price to pay. Another time, Tanya was idle, standing in her awful shoes, when a guest threw a piece of fatty gristle to the floor. She dived for it, and so did the male maid. She got there first and got her mouth over it - the slaves were never allowed to eat anything except directly with their mouths, like animals. The other wasn't giving up easily. He clawed at her painful, swollen tits, and tugged at her rings, making her yelp, but she managed to swallow the precious morsel.

Once dinner had finished and the guests were relaxing, the four maids became playthings. Tanya was bent over the table and fucked, with cocks and with other things. She was very noisy when it was a wine bottle, and even noiser when they pushed it into her anus. She was spanked and whipped. Her huge tits and their heavy rings fascinated one of the guests, who twisted and tugged at them, and made her jump up and down. Any hesitation in obeying an instruction, no matter how bizarre, was instantly punished, and very painfully. It only happened to her once.

Eventually the Master lined up all four of them against the wall, and explained to the guests that since there weren't enough of them to go around, he was going to auction them. The highest bidders would have the exclusive use of their chosen victim all night long, tonight and also on the last night of their stay. Tonight they had to be gentle - the slaves had to work the next day. The chance to be less gentle, would come at the end of their stay.

When it came to Tanya's turn, the Master was effusive in his praise for her, especially the fact that she was still mostly unmutilated. Her wig and hood were removed, so the bidders could see her in her natural beauty - as he put it. For the first time the stinking mess of her once-beautiful hair was revealed. Despite all her other torments and humiliations, she wept in shame, especially when they came by to inspect the goods. The bidding went on a for a long time, and the eventual price was a shock to Tanya - several thousand dollars. Afterwards, just before she went off to her buyer's suite for the night, the Master took her to one side and said, "You're really rather an expensive lady, aren't you? What a pity for you that you will never get any of the money! But we'll think of you when we're spending it, after you've died some horribly painful death". And he pushed his burning cigar into her thigh, covering her mouth so her scream wouldn't disturb anyone too much.

She was led to her winner's room, the guard tugging at one of her tit rings the whole way. When she arrived he was still dressed, sitting in an armchair with a cigar. He bid the guard to leave, in a language she didn't understand, and gestured for her to stand by the door while he looked at her. She had her hood and wig back on again now, at his request, so she looked quite normal. He opened his flies and started playing with himself as he looked at her. She thought to herself, if this is how the night is going to go, it won't be too bad. Then he gestured to her to climb onto the bed. This was heaven! - the first time she had lain on anything soft since her first night at the chateau. It was an amazing feeling, and she briefly forgot why she was there - which was certainly not for her own comfort. He came over to the bed and played with her enormous breasts for a long time, caressing them, squeezing them, tugging and twisting gently at the rings, before finally he pushed his hard cock into her and fucked her, almost gently. If this was rape, it was far better than anything she had known since arriving. Despite her sore cunt she was enjoying it. Soon he came into her, and sent her to stand where he could watch her. This man, quite young and definitely attractive, had paid a small fortune for something she would willingly have given away in her former life. As she stood, cum dribbling down her thighs - which was nothing new - she thought how lucky she had been. He undressed and gestured her back over, had her kneel on the bed while she sucked him to hardness again - which was pure pleasure.

But then her luck ran out. When he was hard again he said, "You know, I'd almost like to have you spend the night in bed with me, snuggled up nice and cosy." Her hopes were raised, briefly. But then he continued, "But you stink. You stink like you should, you filthy whore, you stink of shit like a filthy whore should." He slapped her face, again and again and again. Even through the rubber hood it hurt a lot. Then he pushed her roughly onto the floor and bent her over the bed. He shoved his fist hard inside her, twisted it against her bruised cunt. The torment continued for a long time. Her huge, inflated tits, her cunt, her anus all suffered, as well as the rest of her body when he beat her with his belt and his bare hands.

Eventually he got tired. In one last act of humiliation, he shoved her into the bathroom and pissed into her open mouth, yelling at her to swallow. She did, as much as she could, but most of it ran down her body, leaving a smelly mess to add to all her other sufferings. Before returning to his cozy bed he said, "If you think this evening was bad, you just wait until I can do anything I want. Don't forget to come back here, will you, my sweetie? You filthy whores need all the punishment you can get." And with that he closed the door, leaving her weeping on the hard, cold floor in the darkness.

For what was left of the night, she dozed fitfully. In her semi-delirium she saw Carlos coming to save her, Carlos in his attack helicopter with his guns and his faithful helpers, killing everyone who stood between him and his darling, grabbing her bruised and defiled body in his arms and carrying her back. As they took off from the blazing remains he kissed her tenderly, tears in his eyes at what they had done to her. Where was he? Why was he taking so long? Please Carlos, come and save me, please...

Toilet Service

In the morning they let her sleep until late, leaving the breakfast service and the guests' rooms to other maids. She needed rest, yet they needed her for the ceremonies that would start later in the day. When they came to get her she had hardly moved, she lay in a fetal position in a puddle of her own piss and shit now. She was in a deep, deep sleep. They kicked at her bruised body until she stirred and screamed, then they grabbed her arms and dragged her out. She had not been badly hurt, what he had done to her was less than the guards did nearly every day. What had hurt her was the disappointment - for a short while she really thought that someone was going to make tender love to her, to let her sleep in a soft bed, just like in her almost-forgotten former life.

She was half dragged down the stairs, ending up in the dining room where the guests had finished eating, and were relaxing over a final cup of coffee. There were other maids waiting there too, Chatty and a couple of others who she didn't know. The Master stood up.

"Ah, Shithead, it's always nice to have an extra little sleep in the morning, isn't it? I hope you're nice and relaxed now. Breakfast is over really, it's a shame you missed it, but I wanted you to be here. I want to show our guests how a lady, a proper lady like yourself, prepares herself to face the day - what could well turn out to be quite a difficult day, but it doesn't matter, a lady always takes the time to get a good start to the day, doesn't she, my dear?"

As always, he was smiling and cheerful. Anyone who didn't know his heart of pure evil would think he meant every word.

"The first thing a lady needs is her breakfast, isn't it? Wake up those old taste buds after a hard night of partying, up much too late, keeping bad company, you need to be refreshed. Luckily, your good friend Chatty has been thinking of you, and she's going to make breakfast for you. Not quite like your first night here, when she served you in your room. Do you remember that?"

Of course poor Tanya remembered, how could she ever forget? How could she ever forget the life she had led, before she descended into this horror, this worse-than-hell existence she had now. At a sign from the Master, Chatty put a big glass between her legs and filled it with dark yellow piss, then held it out for Tanya.

"Best to start with a drink, eh? Freshly squeezed orange juice is the very best, in my opinion, but out here in the wilds we just can't get it, not enough to go around for everyone anyway, and after all you were rather late, weren't you? So this is all that's left. Now drink it, every drop, and don't dare to spill any. Oh, Chatty, she'll find it hard to drink with that hood on, won't she? Now be a good girl and take it off, so she can really tuck into her breakfast."

Chatty did as she was told, revealing once again Tanya's stinking, filthy mass of shit-matted hair. She held the glass to her lips, tears in her eyes, and started to drink it. In her time there she had drunk plenty of piss, she was almost used to it now, and she was desperately thirsty. Once she got over the initial shock of its warm bitterness she was almost grateful. She drunk it down quickly.

"Good. Now Chatty, you've been preparing Shithead's breakfast for a long time now, haven't you?" Chatty nodded miserably. "Yes, Nearly two days you've been plugged up, making Shithead's breakfast inside your tummy. You're just such a thoughtful girl, aren't you? I expect it was quite uncomfortable, too, wasn't it?" She nodded again, her broken face twisted with pain. "So now you'd better serve it to her, while it's still fresh, eh?"

She squatted over a big metal dish, and fumbled around removing a plug from herself. The huge inflatable plug had been stretching her bowels for 36 hours, swelling her whole belly and making it impossible for even the smallest fart to escape. She was in terrible pain as gases burbled through her guts, ending up as stinking fart-belches through her wrecked mouth. Her gut was distended with rotting shit, making her every movement agonisingly painful. She would have been sobbing if she was able to make any noise. It took a few seconds for her guts to realise they were free, and then a fountain of disgusting, already-rotten shit poured out of her, filling the bowl and splashing onto her bottom and onto the floor around her. The stench was foul, several of the guests started to gag. So did Shithead, especially since she realised what was coming next. This was the breakfast.

It took a while for Chatty's guts to stop convulsing, pushing a fresh semi-liquid lump of shit splashing into the bowl. Finally she stood up, holding the full bowl in both hands, shit dribbling down her thighs. The Master spoke again.

"Well done, Chatty. It was worth all that pain, wasn't it, all that squirming around in agony, just wishing all that disgusting filth could escape from your poor body? But before you give it to your friend Shithead, you should do like all the best cooks and have a little taste yourself, just to be sure everything is just perfect. Go on, take a mouthful." She hesitated. "Now! Quickly, or we'll pour boiling oil into your pretty little anus." He meant it, too. It had happened to quite recently, to a victim - rather further down the path to oblivion than Chatty, it's true - who hesitated once too often. He hadn't lasted very long after that, but his last few days were unimaginably unpleasant.

Since both her hands were full holding the near-overflowing bowl, the only thing she could was push her mouth down into the mess. Her destroyed lips and missing tongue meant that she to close her jaws around it, then tip her head back to swallow. She choked and gagged, but managed to swallow.

"Does that meet your high standards as a cook, Chatty dear?" She nodded, her disgust obvious despite her broken face. "Good, so now you can give it to Shithead."

Shithead took it in both hands, choking at the especially vile smell of shit that has been rotting inside someone's gut, and put her mouth to it. Just like Chatty, the only way she could eat it was like an animal, pressing her mouth into it, smearing it around her face and up her nose.

It took a long time for poor Shithead to eat her breakfast. When she had eaten it all, her swollen belly full now of rotten shit, she was made to lick the bowl clean, until only the faintest trace of smears could be soon on its shiny surface. She was sobbing, in disgust as well as the physical pain of the fermenting filth inside her.

"Good, it's always nice to start the day with a filling, healthy breakfast, eh? Some breakfasts are healthier than others, maybe a bowl of muesli and some skimmed milk would have been better for you? Isn't that the kind of thing you're more used to? But when in foreign parts, one has to fit in. Dear me yes, I remember once on a trip to China... it quite turns my stomach even now. Anyway, it looks to me like your hair could do with washing. I know how much you like to keep it fresh with your rather unusual shampoo, but we have guests now and you should do your best to be respectable for them."

The Hairdresser

Chatty staggered across the room, her damaged feet hurting her badly in the impossible heels, and returned with a large bowl of water. Shithead had another brief moment of elation... was she really going to have her hair washed? She thought, tears coming to her eyes, of her Mayfair hairdresser, of the exquisite care he had taken of her gorgeous hair. And, sure enough, a guard pushed her down on the floor, and Chatty started to wash her hair. As soon as water was added, the caked filth turned to stinking sludge, running down her back and into her face. Chatty rubbed at it with her hands, adding water, gradually working the filth out of her. It took several bowls of water, and then when her hair was almost clean she used some strong industrial soap, rubbing it in, right down to the roots. Even more water was used to rinse it clean. Meanwhile a male slave in strict bondage was cleaning up the filthy mess on the floor, heavy weights hanging from his balls as he struggled with a mop and a big bucket which by now was almost full. Later it would make a refreshing drink for some of the other slaves.

Finally, the Master bade Tanya to stand. For the first time in months, her hair was clean! It felt so, so good, good enough that she briefly forgot the fermenting mess inside her, the disgusting stink that filled her. Her hair had grown quite a lot, and hung longer than before, the fresh wetness against her skin an unimaginable pleasure for her.

"Feels wonderful, doesn't it, when you hair is nice and clean? It gets greasy and dirty so quickly. Looks like it could do with tidying up. Chatty...?"

And to Tanya's astonishment, Chatty went to work with scissors, trimming the long ends and even thinning it, just like a professional hairdresser. She was obviously having trouble with the scissors, because of her missing fingers, but she was still quite nimble.

"Surprised, eh? But you see, our Chatty is a fully trained hairdresser, a very good one in her day, aren't you my dear?" Chatty nodded. "She used to cut hair for all sorts of important people, and their wives and girlfriends too. You might even have met her, if you'd ever needed a good haircut in... well, let's just say in the place where she worked. After all, one never knows who is listening. And that was poor Chatty's problem, you see. People will say all kinds of things to their hairdresser, or to their friends while they're waiting. And Chatty thought this was all terribly interesting, didn't you my dear?" Another miserable nod. "But then she made the mistake of blurting it all out, she loved a good gossip, did Chatty, just couldn't stop yakking about all these interesting things she'd heard. And some people got into trouble, some quite important people. And some even more important people thought our Chatty needed to be kept quiet, needed to go somewhere where there are fewer ears, and be taught not to be so chatty. And so here she is. It's a terrible waste of her training and talent as a hairdresser, but we benefit from her skills here. I shall really miss her when her time comes, I shall be forced to go back to the barbarian locals. Anyway, you're really a very lucky girl to have Chatty to do your hair, even if she is a bit clumsy now we've started removing her fingers."

While he was talking, poor Chatty, whose only sin had been to be just a bit too fond of a good gossip, was tidying up Tanya's hair. Tanya felt so good, not only was her hair clean, it was even being taken care of by a top-class hairdresser, albeit one in reduced circumstances. She dared to hope that they'd leave her hair clean at least for the weekend, while the guests were there. After all, it isn't very nice to have your food served by a walking pile of shit, even if it is covered by a hood and a wig.

"That's enough Chatty, no point in going to too much trouble, it's not as if she's going anywhere special. And anyway, her hair will get all dry like that, you're not using very good shampoo. Don't forget the special conditioner, that you've been saving for your best customer."

And then Tanya knew. They weren't going to let her keep her hair clean. Sure enough, a male slave tottered in carrying another bowl full of stinking, days-old shit. Shithead was pushed back down to her knees, and Chatty took handfuls of shit and rubbed it into her hair, carefully massaging it right down to the roots, until eventually the whole bowl of decaying shit had been worked into her scalp. The stink was awful - she'd been plugged for two days and this "special conditioner" was her shit from before then.

"There, that's much better, like that your hair will retain its natural gloss and shine, just like they say in the adverts. And now you need to take care of your makeup. Luckily Chatty knows all about that too, and she has some special samples for you, straight from Tokyo, or was it New York? Or the slaves' toilets, now I come to think of it."

Chatty had a bowl of shit mixed with thick glue made from boiled bones, and she brushed it onto Tanya's face, carefully spreading it around her eyes and into all the folds in her skin. There was something corrosive and irritating in it as well, and as it dried her skin started to itch and burn terribly. But when she put her hands up to scratch at it, a guard yanked them behind her and cuffed them.

"There, you look lovely. I expect Chatty's special formula is hurting your skin a bit, we put sulphuric acid in it for your complexion. But it's for your own beauty, everyone knows that beauty only comes at a price. Now we just need to make sure your body is in good shape, and you'll be ready to face the world. Your breasts looked so pretty last night, that 38G size was just so you, but this morning they look a bit, well, deflated. Don't worry, we'll soon see about that."

At this the Mistress appeared, carrying a basket with four huge syringes in it. It was true that the saline had been absorbed into her body, it was one reason why she had pissed herself so copiously during the night. The first syringe was pushed deep into her left breast, right through the deep scar from where the Master had burned it with a lighter on her first day. The needle was a quarter of an inch thick. Poor Tanya screamed so hard, but the guards held her down and gradually the syringe emptied into her. By the time the Mistress had finished, she had two litres of saline in each breast. They were swollen in front of her like huge balloons, and they hurt terribly. They hurt even more when the Mistress brought a fine cane down with all her strength. They were so swollen that they hardly budged, but a thin line of blood appeared on top of each of them, them another and another. Her screams had barely died down when the huge rings were removed from her nipples, to be replaced with others that were twice as big, twice as thick, and much heavier. Her nipples were nearly torn apart as they were inserted, the barely-healed flesh tearing open and blood flowing freely.

Once that was done, they changed her stockings for fresh ones, since her beating during the night had torn the old ones badly. And then, as the Master said brightly, she was ready to face the world. The guards stood her up, and she was made to parade around in front of the guests as though she was on a catwalk. Her whole body hurt, her feet and legs were trembling from the impossible heels, and her face felt like it was on fire. She had the double stink of old shit, from inside her belly and from her new "conditioner". Suddenly the full horror of her situation, the full horror of constant humiliation which was even worse than the pain, came home to her. She started sobbing.

"Now, now, don't take on so. I expect you're feeling sad that there's nothing you can do for poor Chatty, after she has been so kind to you? But don't worry, later on today you'll have a chance to be every bit as caring and tender to her as she has been to you. Now it's time to get on with things. Ladies and gentlemen, I think we should let our maids tidy this room up." With that, he walked out of the room, followed by the guests. To Tanya's horror, they weren't all men - in addition to the Mistress, there were women there as well, one quite young and one in her sixties, and what seemed to be a couple of some intermediate age, who gave Tanya a wink as they walked out with their arms round each others' waists.

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