Mistaken Identity (FdomF+, FF, Bond, Hum, RP, Ex, Mast, V)

The entirety of this story is a work of fiction.  A FANTASY.  I do not encourage or condone any of these behaviors in real life.  Unprotected sex is dangerous, and non-consensual sex is criminal.  This story should only be viewed by consenting adults who can make a determination between fantasy and reality.  All others should simply exercise their right to not read the story.  Remember, free speech is all speech, not just popular speech.  Read responsibly, and have fun!
The entirety of this story, as with all my works, are © Nightpen. 2003.   Anyone passing this work off as their own is guilty of Copyright infringement.  This story may be freely distributed to any place appropriate for erotic works as long as all disclaimers and text remain intact and un-altered, and as long as the story remains on “free” sections of any websites.  No one has permission to sell this story, or viewings of it, for any purpose whatsoever.  I retain all rights and privileges associated with copyright.
Any questions about the story, or it’s copyright should be sent to Nightpen @ hotmail.com

Karen huddled down in the bleak, windowless room.  She’d been kneeling by this “Mistress” woman, trying not to be openly disgusted about having to lick her fingers clean after masturbation, and the hulking butler was summoned back in.  All her silent pleading, and very vocal pleading once they got away from the Mistress and her terrible whip had been in vain.  He’d leashed her and walked her briskly down some more of the mansion’s seemingly endless halls, and rudely shoved her in this little cell, still naked, except for this collar, which seemed to be locked far too securely for even a small pin to pick.
	“Or maybe,” Karen thought, sitting down on the bed dejectedly, “it’s just that I don’t know how to pick locks.  At least I can hope that my new boss will call the police if I don’t show up, nobody else knows I’m in Seattle.”  She moped, and glared at the door, which she’d already tried to open at least ten times.  She was tired, thirsty, a little hungry, and there was quite obviously no bathroom attached to her cell, not that anyone seemed too worried about this sort of thing.  She’d lost her watch when she’d been forced to strip, but it seemed as if she’d been stuck in this nightmare mansion for at least three or four hours now.
	Another look at the barely lit walls, and she curled up on the bed, wishing for a sheet or anything to cover up with, even if the room was warm enough.  She lightly fingered the whip welt on her shoulder and upper chest, and wondered what would happen if she just through a screaming tantrum.  Maybe they’d decide that she wasn’t worth keeping… or maybe they’d hit her with the whip some more.  The thought of that was more than enough to make Karen shudder, and curl up, tears brimming in her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time today.  Left alone, in the dark, exhausted from her ordeal, all her intentions to plan an escape fell away, and she collapsed into a fitful sleep.

	There was no telling how much later it was that she woke, but all she could sense at first was a confused blur of bright lights, sharp words, and blurry shapes.  She was out of her cell and halfway down the hall before she even really realized that she was being moved, and roughly at that, to another place.  Jingling on her legs and wrists made her look down, to see stout leather cuffs, like her collar, locked into place around each ankle and wrist.  A brief glimpse of the butler and some girl were all she got of the people herding her along, her curiosity was brutally snuffed by a hand that seemed to come out of nowhere, and a woman’s voice telling her to keep her head down.  Wine red carpet went by for most of the rest of the miserable walk, until she was forced into an elevator, which slid down smoothly, and then the floor consisted of rough-matted concrete, painful on her bare feet.  The black plastic weave seemed designed to allow water or other liquids to drain out, certainly not a sign that encouraged Karen, and it looked as if it’d been here a long time, the flickering flourescents betraying places it had frayed to reveal little gray whisps.
	Terrified now, Karen would much rather concentrate on the floor matting than wonder where she was being taken, though the loud squeal of iron hinges pulled her out of her reverie anyway.  The next room she was half dragged into was a scene from nightmare…  and more to the point, one that could easily have been taken from that bondage video she’d stumbled across in the limousine.  At the center of the room was a large dirty chain, hanging down from the ceiling, an almost grotesque hook at the end of it.  Numerous bolts and little holes dotted the bare concrete underneath the chain, but those features themselves weren’t the real source of Karen’s distress.  All along the walls, instruments of pain and domination rested like gym equipment.  Whips and paddles rested in a bin with a variety of straps.  There were chains, and cuffs, and weird harnesses hanging from the walls.  Machines and stands that Karen didn’t even want to speculate on sat in neat rows, freshly cleaned of all but some terribly disturbing stains.
	As Karen gaped, she was dragged to the center of the room, her arms pulled behind her and wrists secured together.  She whimpered as her elbows were drawn uncomfortably close together, and a pair of clamping cuffs laid on them to hold them there, and keep her chest out.  A slave-girl, Karen couldn’t tell, and didn’t care which one, knelt down and pulled her legs open, fixing a spreader bar to her ankle cuffs, and setting the bar a good couple inches past shoulder width.  Karen’s mouth opened to protest, or scream, or something, and she shut it almost immediately when Mistress Jane stepped up in front of her.  The woman was clad now in bright red PVC, and the effect, combined with her pale skin and black hair, made her appear to be wearing fresh blood.  Someone behind Karen hoisted her wrists up, bending her over just slightly, but mostly putting painful pressure on her shoulders, and rested her wrist cuffs in the dangling chain’s hook.  The slack was drawn out of the chain, and Karen was forced up onto the balls of her feet, to avoid the pain in her shoulders.
	Jane reached out with both PVC gloved hands, and tweaked Karen’s nipples hard, twisting and pulling on them.  Karen, predictably, screamed, and halfway through her shriek of pain a waiting slave-girl shoved the bright red ball of a gag in her mouth, working it in with her hand to make sure the grove was well centered on Karen’s teeth.  Several pairs of hands pulled the straps back over her hair, and Karen groaned through the gag as her head was yanked back to tighten it.  Jane let go of the girl’s nipples, now bright red and running sparkles of pain through Karen’s breasts.
	“OUT!  Everyone.  Get out.  I want to be alone with my new toy.”  Jane smiled, and Karen, whimpering through pain and trying to find a comfortable position to stand in, fancied that was the sort of smile a mouse saw, right before the snake sunk in it’s fangs.  There were no arguments with Jane’s order, just a quiet chorus of “Yes Mistress”, and Tomas the butler filed out of the room with a pair of slave-girls in tow.  Karen turned back to Jane, desperately begging… or trying to, since the gag rendered those noises nothing more than a series of grunts and moans.
	“Shhhhhh….”  Jane held her finger up to her mouth, sliding sensuously up against her captive’s body, “Shhhhh… little slave.  No noises yet….”  Karen swallowed hard and quieted, feeling more helpless and frantic than she ever had in her life.  To her shocked surprise, Jane reached out and pulled a small table over, wet her right glove in a little bowl of oil, and cupped Karen’s sex with the now wet glove, slowly working the oil in and around her lips.  Karen squirmed, till Jane’s tightening hand on her sex explained quite eloquently why that might be a bad idea.  She hung there, trying to stay balanced on the balls of her feet, enduring Jane’s ministrations, with soft whimpers that were entirely swallowed by the gag.
	A few minutes later, her head came up in horror and surprise as heat and desire budded between her legs.  She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made it worse.  With her eyes closed, the only things on her mind were the burning in her calves, the pain in her shoulders, and the smooth, slick circles Jane was drawing around her clit.  Despite herself, Karen had to admit the woman was good…  many’s a time she would have killed for a lover who was that expert with his hands.  But not like this, she didn’t want to feel good from this….    The soft caresses continued, Jane wet her glove again in the oil, and Karen’s eyes went very, very wide as a single, plastic clad finger slid up inside her sex, parting her inside so gently it was almost tender…  except for the situation.
	“I didn’t think you were a virgin…” Jane whispered huskily in Karen’s ear, “And if I’m not mistaken… your body has the good sense to enjoy this, even if you don’t.”  Karen turned her head away, blushing, as the heat and itching desire continued to spread up her body from her crotch, and she felt her pussy begin to lubricate, to facilitate Jane’s touch.  Jane’s fingers teased, and poked, and slid enticingly across Karen’s clit till the girl was moaning in earnest behind her gag, this time in pleasure.  She felt her pussy swell under the Mistress’ expert fingers, till she was practically dripping down her thighs.  The pain in her shoulders and calves slowly faded away, replaced by a mounting sense of urgency and need, a desperate desire for release.  
	Karen squirmed and began to move her hips, as the stimulation just didn’t seem to be enough, no matter what, those magic slick fingers just kept her hot enough to want more.  Jane chuckled, and licked Karen’s ear, whispering mockingly.
	“Can’t get enough, can you, slut?”  Karen froze, still whimpering in desire, a blush of embarrassment covering up the lustful flush that had covered her face just a moment before.  “For you to get to come…  like I know you so desperately want to, I’ll need something myself…  you’re going to have to promise to eat my pussy till I come, Slave.”
	Karen groaned, shaking her head, the threats and dialogue bringing back a painful awareness of her strained shoulders, and her calves, quivering in exhaustion. 
	“It’s up to you, I could just put some nipple clamps on you, and leave you like this.  Who knows.  In five or six hours, this position might even do some permanent damage to you…”  Jane smirked, and licked Karen’s ear again, then dug her teeth in for an ungentle lovebite.
	A whimper of defeat fought it’s way past Karen’s gag, and her head drooped into a nod, eventually hanging in shame.  Jane chuckled, delighted, and slid a pair of fingers deep up inside Karen, who straightened, gasping at the new sensation.  The fingers crooked back, and slowly massaged Karen’s soft g-spot, while Jane’s thumb found it’s way past Karen’s soaking folds to rest on, and slowly massage her clit.  The sensations grew faster, and stronger, and all the while, Jane whispered in Karen’s ear how she belonged to The Mistress now, she was just a toy, a slave, a mouth for licking and a pussy for fucking.
	Amidst tears of shame and frustration, sweat grew on Karen’s cheeks, and her head jerked back, her body stiffened, and a long low moan of tortured pleasure went on and on behind her gag.  Jane grinned triumphantly, and licked the tears off her slave’s face before brutally lifting her arms and unhooking her wrists from the chain.  With a slap on her rear, Jane let Karen fall to the floor, and stood over her, enjoying the mix of emotions running over the girl’s face as she grappled with pain, and afterglow, release and shame.  Tiring of that after a few moments, she dragged a heavy metal chair over, and bent over to free Karen’s elbows and ankles from their clamp and spreader bar, respectively.  She unbuckled the gag, and pulled it free from Karen’s mouth with a wet pop, but left the wrist cuffs secured tightly behind her back.  Karen looked up at Jane, not bothering to get up off the rough concrete for now, just panting, hardly able to believe that had all happened.
	“Your turn, slave.  Or rather, my turn.”  Jane unzipped her PVC skirt and peeled it off her trim, if curvy, rear.  She sat down on the chair, spread-legged, and scooted her rear forward till her ass rested on the very edge of the chair.  Jane’s slightly spread pussy glistened at Karen, it’s ultra smooth and pale lips parting to reveal a very wet pink interior.
	“No…  please…” Karen whispered, “I can’t… I’ve never…  I’m not gay…”
	Jane laughed scornfully, “There’s a first time for everything.  Do it NOW or I’ll beat you with the whip till your mother wouldn’t recognize you.”  The cold menace in Jane’s tone set Karen’s stomach whirling with distress, and the bound girl fought to her knees, shuffling forward slowly, reluctantly, until her head was more or less between Jane’s legs.
	“That’s right Slave, now get licking.”  Jane reached out, and pulled Karen’s face in close.  Karen paused there for a moment, unable to bring herself to actually eat the other woman out, until a hard twist of Jane’s hands in her hair reminded her of just how helpless she was, and she began to lap at Jane’s sex, grimacing at the thick, musty taste.  Jane smiled, leaning back in her chair, and pressed Karen’s face close into her pussy.  What followed seemed forever to Karen, she learned to lick deep into Jane’s sex, wetting her chin and nose with the Mistress’ juices, she learned to curl her tongue around Jane’s clit, and she learned, toward the end of her experience, to just lick frantically until Jane arched her back and cried out with that same exultant shout of pleasure.  Once done, Jane had Karen lick her sex more or less clean, and discarded the girl, pushing her over on the floor so she could enjoy her afterglow in peace.

	Karen wanted desperately a drink, or a washcloth or something to wipe the taste of Jane, and humiliation out of her mouth.  Though it was, for the moment, pleasant to be ignored.  She looked up in fear as the door creaked open again, and Tomas walked in.  His long legs crossed the dungeon floor with deceptive speed, and he leaned over to speak quietly to Jane.
	“Mistress, it seems Domanic played fair after all.  The woman we were supposed to acquire at the airport is still waiting there.  This one was just… a bonus.”  Jane quirked an eyebrow upward, and Karen exalted, she could finally go free! 
	“I told you!”  Karen cried, happily, “Look, just let me go and I promise, I won’t say…” She cut short with a yelp as Jane’s metal reinforced spike heel chipped the concrete just in front of her nose.
	“Good, you’ve sent the driver already?”  Other than the kick for silence, Jane ignored the girl on the floor.
	“Yes Mistress, as soon as I got the call.  She should be here within an hour to two hours.. you know how the traffic is.”  Tomas also ignored Karen, as he waited, impassively watching Jane.
	“Good, set her up in the usual quarters, we’ll keep this one down here for a while.” Karen whimpered and glared up at Jane as the Mistress looked down at her with a gleeful smile.  “Good news slave!  You’ve got a new playmate.”
	Karen only whimpered softly, her eyes glazing over from the shock of total defeat even in the face of telling the Mistress she was the wrong person.  The fact that she might have to do more of what she’d just done with a new girl hardly registered.  There was a whisper of fabric as Tomas straightened back up, while Jane watched her new toy with a look of smug satisfaction.
	“I’ll hose you off, and then we’ll get you ready for some real training.”  The chair creaked as Jane stood, and she left the room, motioning for Tomas to follow along.  “Send someone in to hose her off, and then get her tied up properly.  I’ve got to think about how I want to do this, now that the situation’s changed.”
	“Of course, Mistress.”  Tomas nodded, and closed the steel door with a dull clang, leaving Karen on the floor, hands still bound behind her back.  The girl just stared, far past crying for the moment, wishing very much that she could just melt down into the concrete and disappear.

	It was almost an hour later that they came for her.  Three slave-girls, in painfully tight corsets and very little else, clopped into the room on stiletto heels.  Their outfits featured long gloves and boots, as Jane’s had done, but the rest was designed to expose them as much as possible.  The three women were almost exactly equal in height, and their hair was cut exactly alike as well, each styled into a low maintenance bob.  Karen rolled a bit on the floor to look up at them, and blinked in surprise.  Their outfits looked the same on the surface, but they were each cut to enhance the women’s similarities.  The outfits were stark white, and bright red, and black.  The women, respectively, were a blonde, a redhead, and a brunette with raven black hair.  Even their makeup was designed to make similar faces look more so.  In the haze of the dank gray dungeon, they looked like three models of the same woman.
	All this introspection ended almost immediately afterwards, when the brutally cold spray from a hose hit Karen’s naked body.  She shrieked and writhed, but the woman holding the hose, whom Karen eventually came to think of as White, was an expert at keeping the water on a struggling victim.  A few dozen eternal seconds of bone-numbingly cold water, later, the stream ended, and Red and Black, the other two “triplets” hoisted Karen up by her arms, dragging her over to a table that they unceremoniously hauled her onto.  White cracked a whip near Karen, just as Black was removing her wrist cuffs.  Exhausted, sore, and shivering with cold, Karen just let her head fall back on the table, and lay limply there, with no intention of escape.
	The trio of slaves went quickly to work on Karen, without any apparent need to speak.  They’d obviously done this many times before.  Karen’s body was quickly washed, and rinsed again, thankfully with warmer water the second time.  Her hair was washed out as well, and the hair along her pussy trimmed and shaved till it was just a thin bar above her slit.  Her nails were cut down to her fingertips, and smoothed down with professional skill and speed.  Karen lay back, eyes tightly closed against all the indignities, and counted the little bursts of color on the inside of her eyelids.
	She was shocked back into awareness of the room when Red and Black dragged her off the table, hauling her off toward a wall without even an attempt to let her walk.  Karen’s meek protests and whines were ignored, and she was pushed hard up against one of the concrete walls, wrists shackled above her head to a extremely thick and sturdy steel ring.  Wooden pegs were slipped into the wall below Karen’s dangling feet, and her ankles were tied to them, keeping her feet on the pegs, and spread about sixty degrees apart.  White shoved Karen’s back roughly forward for a moment, and fixed a rough leather strap behind the small of the bound woman’s back.  The strap was fed down, between Karen’s legs, and pulled up onto her newly shaven, sensitive pussy.  From there, it was pulled painfully tight against her crotch, and up her belly, then between her breasts.  The strap split, and was tightly cinched into a pair of hooks just over Karen’s shoulders.
	By now, Karen was crying and pleading in earnest, and Red, grinding her teeth in irritation at the noise, forced a thick rubber ball gag into the girl’s mouth, effectively ending that line of pleading.  The gag was carefully buckled around Karen’s head, and a blindfold applied over her eyes.  The discomfort in Karen’s feet, generated by the thin wooden pegs she was standing on, was suddenly forgotten as a pair of nipple clamps quite firmly bit down on her nipples.  That elicited a shriek that found it’s way past the gag, abet muffled.  Finally, White spoke, her voice a thin whisper of malice.
	“Shut up.  The Mistress will be here soon enough.  When she gets here, you’ll wish you’d be left like this.”  White chuckled, and gave Karen’s breasts a rough parting grope.  Karen could hear the thin smacks of the women’s heels as they walked back toward the dungeon door.  She howled behind her gag, desperate for this to end, and just sure that nothing could possibly be worse.  That feeling grew stronger as the minutes dragged on, and on.  There was no real way for her to keep time, of course, and she knew the waiting would feel longer than it really was, but when her feet and nipples grew numb, and the dim bulb that lit the dungeon was discernible as a gray fuzz of light on the edge of her blindfold….   Karen began to hope for the Mistress to come back, even to do something worse, do anything, as long as it was a change.  Later, she’d regret that, but Karen would have plenty of time for regrets as a guest of Mistress Jane.

END PART 2

Will there be further stories to add to this?  Email me, your comments make a difference.  They are, in fact, one of the only things keeping me writing and publishing to the web.  For any comments, questions, etc. about my work, send mail to Nightpen @ hotmail.com .  Reasonable messages will be replied to as promptly as I can manage, flames and other offensive messages will be ignored.  Remember, this is a work of fantasy.  Anyone contemplating such behaviors in real life should see a professional therapist as soon as possible.

- Nightpen