Title: Miss Prim & Proper, or what goes around, comes around

Codes: MF, torture, humiliation, nc, drugs
Outline: Cynthia gets some payback when a rebuffed suitor from her youth finally takes what already should have been his years ago (and then starts handing it out to every one...)
Suggestor: likes to be unmentioned


Chapter 4 - Getting hooked

Cynthia woke up groggily but with that truly glowing feeling of complete physical satisfaction. The one she so rarely experienced during her life, and then only after a good workout in the gym, hot steam bath and perfect massage... Or the few times that ex-hubby really had performed the night before...
But no.. that could not be... she had drank some champagne while enjoying the view of the mountains. Then suddenly she had felt so tired and the last thing she remembered was George gently guiding her back into the backseat. George Dammer had been so nice to her, even though he had touched her ass a bit too easy when he helped her back into the car as she blacked out. For now she put it away as a mistake and as Cynthia shook her head to clear up the last cobwebs, she decided to chastise him about this in a stern but playful manner later this week.
But, what time it anyway and how long had she been out?
As she got up and looked around for a clock or so, she got the biggest scare of her life. She noticed that her classic, functional and matter-of-fact two piece business suit had disappeared and that she was now dressed in something totally different!
Cynthia could not believe the vulgar outfit she was wearing right now... it was some sort of bright red rubber kind of one piece bathing suit. It only covered her torso and even then.... the openings for her legs and arms has been very generously cut away and she could feel a large part of her ass being exposed to the fresh air in the room. Around her shoulders the suit was cut out far enough to let her see the onset of her B-cup tits.
She tried to pluck and remove the suit, not even sure why, because there were no other garments present. Now she noticed a series of zippers placed on strategic locations on the suit. One around the base each boob, one right above her vulva and feeling at her back, she discovered two there as well.
Each zipper was locked with a tiny but unbreakable (as she found out during her futile attempts in opening them) locks. Even the material itself did not stretch enough to remove it or tear when pulled on. The whole suit provided enough freedom for her to breathe in, but that was about it.

Gone were also the brown pumps she had been wearing during the trip. They had been a last minute change, because she remembered they were very comfortable to walk in. The disadvantage was that her feet were being on display in the small elegant shoes. And indeed she had noticed several men looking at her legs and feet as she walked down the departure hall of the airport when she started her trip. She was sure they imagined that they could remove those shoes, remove the rest of her clothes and then spread her legs wide open as each of them imagined to ram their cock up her brutally spread open vagina...
But that was not going to happen... they had to satisfy their lustful appetite in another way! She was not going to be the toy for some horny man!

Instead of the modest brown pumps, Cynthia's feet were now clad in some combination of a sandal and a boot... the bottom was made out of straps and open like a sandal, but from her ankle her calf was totally wrapped up in the same tight fitting material as her torso. This ended just below her knee. But the most shocking and obscene about these worked-open boots were the heels! They must have been almost 3" and ending in a needlepoint tip... She never walked on heels that big or that small... She would simply look like a cheap street hooker if she tried to walk on something like that... swinging her ass left and right to keep her balance... awful!!

A shiver ran down her spine... maybe from the low temperature, or was it because of the situation she was in right now? Or was it the ease with which she had fallen for the stage play that George had set up for her? Cynthia realized that the whole situation was one big lie... there was no BDSM-5000 system, there was no DataSerf company and there probably was also no George Dammer as well... so who was this man anyway?? Why this elaborate setup to bring her here? And what going to happen to her now?

So many questions, so few answers... 

The room itself was nothing special... light grey wall, slightly darker grey tiles on the floor and some indirect lighting coming from the edges of the white ceiling. Only one door, right across her bed.

Cynthia got of the bed and tried to open the door. No luck. Not that she really expected it, but it was worth the try anyway. And as expected she had to stick her tits out to the front and push her ass backward AND sway it left and right to keep her balance as she walked on the high heeled shoes to the door. This was disgusting!

"Please get back on the bed. Your training will begin soon!"
The voice came somewhere from the ceiling, but as she startled and almost lost her balance, it faded away before she could pinpoint its exact location.
Training?! Anger swept through her. Just what the heck did they think they were going to do to her?
Defiantly Cynthia stayed close to the door, ready to confront whoever was going to enter with her rage about this situation.

In front of the wall with camera screens, Fred kicked back on his chair and let his eyes wander across the 20-something screens in front of him. Each of them showed a different view of the examination/training room where Cynthia was kept.
This way, he could look at whatever happened in that room from each and every angel. There was something special about observing people when they knew they were being watched, but not from where and by whom... It always made them uncomfortable. For the moment he accepted Cynthia's refusal to get back on the bed. Fred had not expected anything different. After he had fingered her G-spot in the car while she was knocked out and while she had only responded subconsciously to his attentions until she came, he had personally carried her to the room. His henchmen had not offered to do this for him, because they knew about the deep personal interest of the boss for this new addition to the stable of well trained and always compliant hookers of the syndicate.
Oh yes, thought Fred. Cynthia was going to become simply one of those. Even as he saw her standing there, reluctantly balancing on the bright red high heeled sandals and with her feminine curvy body perfectly accentuated by the just as red bodysuit, his cock already hardened. The way she stuck out her tits to the front and that ass out backwards, was just great! Especially since she disliked doing it. The anger and frustration was so easy to recognize on her face.

Fred leaned forward, hit the microphone button again and spoke: "Get back on the bed NOW! Comply or get punished!"
Again Cynthia startled from the sudden noise, and again she made no move in the direction of the bed.

Cynthia heard the second command, but she simply could not imagine what more could be done to her to punish her! She had been kidnapped, drugged, undressed and redressed in some two-bit sleazy hooker kind of outfit.
She still did not know if she felt scared or outraged by all of this.

Fred pressed another button and in the wall a small panel disappeared behind Cynthia. The barrel of a blowgun was aimed at Cynthia's exposed ass and with a small puff a syringe filled with Cynthia's first shot of ZomGra was fired.
When the needle pierced her skin and lodged itself in her left ass cheek, the payload was released.
The sudden pain made Cynthia jump and look around, but when she saw the needle and connected syringe sticking in her ass, the drug already began its devastating effect.
Cynthia's brain exploded in a cacophony of bright colors and happy sounds. Lazily she slumped to the floor, enjoying the euphoric feeling that raced through her body. Damn! She felt horny! With both hands she tried to rub her pussy through the thick latex crotch of the jumpsuit. Even while it did little to remove her sexual excitement, it still made her feel good just doing something. Deeper and deeper she was drawn in the vortex of intense colors that flashed in front of her eyes when the full force of her first load of Z was taking its full effect. Cynthia never drank alcohol and only seldom used coffee or other stimulants, so her body had little to no resistance to the addictive effects of the drug.
After a few minutes Cynthia stopped with rubbing her crotch and now she was simply enjoying the effects of Z. It felt so good to just sit on the floor and let the sensations course through her body. She could still rub her crotch or even rub her nipples through the red bodysuit she was wearing. But why bother as she already felt so fine??
She even had no problem when Fred/George Dammer entered the room and her previous angry feelings towards him had evaporated.

Like a rag doll she let herself being lifted up as he grabbed her under her shoulders. Clasping his hands together under her tits Fred hoisted her up.
"Oooh, George, you naughty man," Cynthia cooed, "You are not trying to cop a feel of my tits, are you? But it does feel nice, your strong arms pressing my tits so strong against my chest..."
As she kept on babbling Fred manhandled her onto the bed again. No real effort needed, because of his SP enhanced body.
Taking out two belts, both of Cynthia's arms were now strapped to the bed.
Even as she was still able to move her head, torso and legs, she was secured to the bed now.
With her reluctant and uncooperative behavior totally out of the way due to the drug induced high that Cynthia was riding, she made no effort of freeing herself or complaining. Again the many eons of evolution that had ingrained the best behavior into her genes kicked in. If you were tied up, as a woman it usually payed off to relax and accept what is going to happen to you.
Fred definitely like the change in her attitude. Instead of the headstrong, ball busting bitch she used to be, she now behaved like any of his other well trained sluts! Of course, those always behaved like this, with or without being drugged. But that day would come for Cynthia for sure as well!
He moved away a few strands of hair and looked into her eyes. Her pupils were still completely dilated, so the effects of the drug would last for a while.
Cynthia smiled at his handsome face as it hovered so close above her. She could see his square chin and strong mouth. His eyes looked so deep. And away she drifted again down into the colorful vortex that spun in her brain.

Fred decided to do nothing during Cynthia's first hit of Z. After all, she would not remember anything of it anyway. It would be much more fun to see her develop the craving for her second hit. In the beginning of the addiction, this would not take very long. Her body, now relaxed due to the sensory overload, would break down the drug fairly quick. But the first of the irreversible changes to her brain already had been made. This was no simple nicotine problem that could be cured with some chewing tablets.
Once the effect of Z wore off, Cynthia would have 2 maybe 3 hours before she needed the next shot. These periods would gradually extend into periods of 7 to 10 days maximum. This allowed the prostitutes from the syndicate to extend their services to multiple days events, like conferences, trade fairs or even small vacations with their customers. All without having to come back for another fix. But eventually they would have to come back.

Fred left the room and went back to the upper levels of the mansion.
He still had to contact the Koreans about their latest proposal. It seemed they did not like the way he had been treating their last string of female spies (oh no, cultural attaches and exchange students of course...). The individual ones he 'recruited' from their embassy they did not complain about. They simply sent another one in her place to take over her 'cultural' activities. However, when Fred's people converted the 2nd league junior girl volleyball team (and their female supervisors) into a bunch cock-sucking, cunt-lapping sexually overactive teenagers, that's when they noticed that the syndicate was serious about protecting its interests. His men were sure that the bus that carried them around the country had not 'lost its way' by accidents. Even the flat tire about 25 miles from the central mansion was too obvious. The adult supervisors had 'disappeared' (caught by Fred's guys) as they had been 'looking for help' (trying to find out more about the syndicate), and, the ones that were caught alive, were finally converted into very eager and very athletic tight bodied hookers.
The team itself had run the crash course of getting addicted to Z. All the injections had been made straight into the nipples and clits of the underage girls. The excruciating pain had sped up the complete process by several days and after two weeks the team (minus their supervisors) had turned up at their embassy. Of course, the real problems started once they were back in Korea... after a week without Z, they turned into the sex-crazed fuck toys that simply kept on sucking every cock and licking every cunt in sight, until they died from exhaustion. If the reports were right, one girl survived on her high protein diet for three weeks, by simply sucking cock after cock from soldiers that had been called to duty. But even those three weeks were not enough for the Koreans to find out what caused this (let alone to find the impossible cure).
Ah well, he would just suggest/tell them the same he had done with the Italian Mob, the Russian gangsters and the other foreign gangs that interfered with his operations. Stop it or keep suffering the consequences. That usually worked :-)

Once that had been taken care of, Fred turned his attention back to the training room. Cynthia had come around and was now enjoying the aftereffects of the drug. Still a bit dazed from the last of the endorphins Cynthia was surprised to find herself on her back and strapped to the bed. The last thing she remembered from before the wonderful feelings was the syringe being shot in her asscheek and George entering the room... and immediately her anger flared back into her.... how dared this kidnapping bastard inject with some god-knows-what kind of fluid and take away her control and free will!
She jerked to free herself from the bed, but the straps were strong enough. Cynthia lifted her head and she noticed that she still wore this slutty red colored weird bathing suit. She could not see her abdomen and lower because of the way she was strapped down, but the feeling of her torso being wrapped up from her boobs to her crotch by the close fitting garment was obvious.
Suddenly another sensation made itself known, next to her anger directed at the incorrect and illegal behavior of George Dammer. She had to pee! The champagne she drank earlier and her body trying to get rid of the remnants of ZomGra had caused her bladder to fill to bursting point.
When she had been under the influence of the drug, the feeling had only caused a minor but pleasant sensation in lower belly. But now the pressure and the pain over her overfilled bladder made themselves very clearly known to her...
"Hey! I have to use the bathroom!" Cynthia yelled. Even speaking this loud already sent another flash of pain through her abdomen.
Fred watched his captive wriggle in discomfort on the bed.
Leaning back in his chair, he waited.
Cynthia was displeased with the lack of reaction. She knew she was being watched. She knew they kept an eye on her. They simply choose to ignore her and her obvious discomfort! These bastards... probably they even enjoyed seeing her struggle here.
She was right about that. Fred felt a pleasant sensation in his crotch as he watched Cynthia trying to free herself. She could only move her hips and legs. But those she moved in a very pleasant way! As he thought about the events to come, his cock stiffened further and unzipping his fly, he let his dick out.
On the screen Cynthia had stopped moving. She had decided not to give them the pleasure of her discomfort anymore. Not that this was easy... The tight fitting garment prevented her bladder from expanding too much outward, so the fullness made itself even more and more painfully present then usual.
If she was not released soon, to be able to use a bathroom, she would have to wet herself... Cynthia shivered at this disgusting and humiliating thought. The last time peed her pants had been when she was a toddler. It had been a little accident... too much lemonade to drink and and uncle that had tickled her too long and too much... Suddenly she lost control and her knickers had gotten wet! Even back then she had felt so ashamed and humiliated!
But that had been more then 40 years ago. And now it seemed that she was forced to repeat this awful event! The pain and discomfort got stronger and stronger.
"Hey! Anybody there? I really have to use the bathroom! Please...?"
The last word came out almost as a whisper. Cynthia was not used to ask for things that she took for granted. Especially not from the scum that had her captured. But the pain in her bladder became so fierce and the thought of wetting herself was too much for her. And so she asked.

Of course, Fred had no intention of releasing her. But the whispered question of the helpless, slender, green-grey eyed brunette did make his cock jerk up and reach the SP-enhanced full 12" at once. There was something special when a woman realized the inevitability of her fate, but still made that last attempt of changing it. 

And Cynthia did realize her fate... As her plea also produced no reaction, the pressure in her bladder got too much. Her urethra cramped up and then finally gave up its task of stopping the piss from leaking out.
Gulp after gulp of the warm liquid squirted out of her pussy and it was so much that some of it even squished out from the front of the suit.
She felt so embarrassed, with the the bulk of the piss running down her pussy, between her ass and from there out of the suit. She felt the wet mattress stick to her ass. She almost cried with humiliation, the pressure has been so much that even some of the golden-colored piss had worked its way up to her belly. Even when she peed her pants the last time, when her uncle tickled her so much, this had not happened.
As the pressure in her bladder reduced, the stream shrunk to a trickle and finally the last drops were pressed out when she squeezed her urethra shut again.
Cynthia noticed, that despite the wet feeling on the lower parts of her body, it did feel good to not have this painful pressure anymore. But the shame and humiliation of having to wet herself overshadowed this and she was close to crying.

Fred decided it was time for another visit. After all, the withdrawal symptoms from Cynthia's first dose of ZomGra would be about to kick in.
It now had been almost two hours ago since she ended her first trip and her body should be about to make clear it demands that it wanted more of that!

