Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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!

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