The Pits of Depravity

The Pits of Depravity

Thank you for looking at my story. I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it. It would be very helpful if, having read it, you give it a rating, and add any comments that occur to you.

This story is not part of a series, but it is the first volume in what I hope will be a tetralogy. In later volumes the science fiction element will be much more prominent. Obviously, it would be equally at home in the "BDSM" or the "Noncon" categories, but we have to choose one.

Chapter One - Admission

The Pits of Depravity were not called that officially. The discreet sign at the entrance to the car park said "Heilbron Laboratories," but some visitors called it "Sinners' Paradise," and others preferred "The Holes," which was less explicit. Admission was strictly by invitation only. Newcomers were recommended by one or more existing members, and were vetted with great care. Pretexts were found to test them for a infectious and contagious diseases, and their online accounts and devices were hacked and ransacked to discover anything illegal. Extensive debts were a disqualification, or anything that would cause unwelcome authorities to come searching for them.

Christobell was a candidate because she was a rich widow, left alone at only twenty-four as a result of her rich husband's passion for rock-climbing. She was twenty-five when she was "spotted" by a boyfriend who, although in most respects unsuitable, discovered her interest in BDSM, and knew that her efforts to find a like-minded partner had met with only sporadic success.

Her problem was that she craved both long-term bondage and ruthless sexual exploitation, preferably by multiple partners at once or in quick succession. She had no interest in role-playing games, but wanted an experience that was real, with no hope of escape or release before the designated date and time. The Pits were open to both dominants and submissives, and she was clearly the latter.

She was not told of the existence of the establishment until her vetting was complete. That was done by enrolling her in a programme that ostensibly monitored her health and provided a range of dietary supplements and immunizations. Unknown to her, she was treated to improve her libido and her tolerance for bondage, and to suppress her gag reflex and vulnerability to tickling and itches.

Then she was sent an invitation to visit over a bank holiday weekend- Friday to Tuesday- with access to an online brochure that disappeared after an hour. There was an assurance that she would suffer no "lasting" damage, but she had to accept that she would be put to sexual use by the membership, numbers unspecified. Discretion was guaranteed, and there would be no charge as she was a first-time submissive. If she decided to return, there would be a membership fee which she could easily afford.

She would, of course, be expected to sign a non-disclosure agreement, any breach of which would have very serious consequences. No photography or recording of any kind was permitted. She found it all very vague: all she knew was that she would agree to be tied up and ravished over several days. It seemed dangerous, but it was what she had wanted all her adult life, so she signalled her agreement, and in due course was sent her joining instructions.

It was made clear to her that only members of six months standing were told the location. She would be collected from her home by a Hymer motorhome with frosted windows, and the driver would remain in his place. She should come completely empty handed. She would need no money or cards, or her mobile phone, or even a watch. They knew she needed no prescription or proprietary medicines. She should wear a short, simple and inexpensive dress, a pair of sandals, and nothing else at all.

On the day, she dithered and dallied until the very last minute, for it was a huge and dangerous step to take. She knew, however, that she would not get many chances to live the kind of life that she wanted, and everything about the offer seemed genuine. The short-lived boyfriend who had nominated her had seemed reliable, honest and solicitous of her welfare. He would have lasted longer had he not insisted on untying her before they went to sleep. She spent some time choosing a suitable dress, but when the motorhome pulled up at her door she walked purposefully out of her house and into hit, hearing the lock click as she closed the door behind her.

The journey took no more than ninety minutes, and Christobell has no idea where they went. Nor did she see the outside of the establishment. It appeared to be a redundant and repurposed storage and distribution centre for frozen food, but the insulation and the masses of rock that had kept it cold now helped to keep it very warm and humid. Much of it was a network of old mines and natural caverns, some them enlarged or cleared of rubble.

There was a windowless and featureless building as well, covering the entrance, and it served as offices and a huge garage where members could leave their vehicles. In the old days trucks could load and leave without exposing their cargoes to the summer sun. Now newcomers like Christobell could come and go without a glimpse of the outside world.

They did not come and go with their hands free, however. As soon as the Hymer stopped, the door opened and a young white man entered, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He was holding a single piece of thin rope; the ends gathered to prevent fraying. "Good afternoon, Miss Christobell," he said politely. Would you please turn your back to me and give me your hands?"

She had expected to be bound, if not quite so soon, so it never occurred to her to refuse. She was surprised, however, to see that the man was collared, and that his ankles were hobbled with cuffs and a length of chain. "Aren't you a submissive?" she asked. "Why are you tying me up?"

"Miss Christobell, I've been coming here for two years, so I'm trained to perform certain tasks for the dominants. I enjoy using rope, as you can see."

He had done it with such skill, crossing her wrists and winding the rope both horizontally and vertical, that she knew that she would not get loose, nor would her circulation be blocked. It was now very apparent that he liked his work. His loincloth was bulging, and she half expected to see his erection pop out between the folds. He seemed untroubled, bidding her to follow him and setting out across a wide expanse of tarmac with a few parked vehicles, mainly cars and small vans.

He helped her down the step, for although she been tied up before she had never walked more than a few steps in a bedroom. Doubtless her lovers had noticed how, with her wrists bound behind her, her generous bust was pushed forward, but she had never looked in the mirror. Now, as she felt her nipples pressing and rubbing against the fabric of her dress, she was much more aware of the effect that a single piece of rope could have.

She was also becoming aware of the effects of not having her arms available to balance her as she walked. She felt clumsy and found it difficult to keep to a straight line. Fortunately, her escort could not walk too quickly, being limited to short strides, so there was no risk of losing her balance. After two or three minutes they entered the mouth of a very large cave, walking alongside an old tramway track, and almost immediately they turned off into an office; a chipboard structure, but well-finished inside. Christobell and the young man sat side by side in front of a desk, at which sat a much older man with a distinct air of authority. At times his attention seemed to wander and he caught his breath, or sighed, and the obvious conclusion was that he had a woman under the desk, sucking his cock.

"Christobell, it's my job to welcome you to the Pits, and to warn you of the gravity of the step you are taking," he said, a little pompously. "In this little community, there is no limit to the depths of moral turpitude, of depravity, of sexual incontinence, that you will encounter. You still have time to back out. If you do, you will never here from us again, although we cannot speak for other groups of slavers."

There was definitely a threat there. If she went home now, she would soon find herself chained in a dungeon, waiting to be sold, probably, to some foreign brothel. She had already given up all hope of turning back, and she told the man that she was willing to continue.

"Good", he said, and to the young male, "Take her next door, Boy, and fit her with proper restraints. Then she can go to the first pit. 'Christobell' is a silly name. We'll call her 'Labia', for the time being. I think the name's free at the moment."

The door to the next room was enclosed in a short metal tunnel, like those that are sometimes installed to detect metal or harmful objects, and Labia felt a moment of dizziness that passed as soon as she was aware of it. She had no means of knowing it, but at that moment she had left the Earth. The cave system was aligned to the entrance, but the underground scenery was completely different. There was no detectable difference in the gravity. Small adjustments were made to the atmosphere to ensure that visitors from Earth did not feel any different.

Chapter Two - Into the Pits

Working very efficiently, Boy fitted her with a complete set of five irons on her wrists, ankles and throat. The ankle cuffs were joined, like his, with about fourteen inches of chain, and her wrists were locked behind her back. She noticed that he was meticulous about security, so her hobble chain was locked to a staple in the floor before the rope was removed from her wrists. The collar had heavy rings both in front and behind.

Back in the cave, a crude open carriage was waiting for them on the tramline. It was powered by a male slave, naked and cock-caged, who at on a saddle at the front and pedalled, his arms folded behind his back. The vehicle rattled noisily as it progressed, but it moved at a respectable speed and soon could see that they were catching up with a larger wagon that held half a dozen people. Before they could come close enough to make out details, however, they turned off to the left, into a narrower passage with less headroom.

She was sitting opposite her escort, who now stood up, holding the sides of their flimsy carriage. "Find my cock," he told her. "Suck it, but don't make me cum. I'm not allowed another ejaculation until this evening."

She was not used to such frank talk, but she had come to submit. She was just surprised that she was expected to submit to another submissive. She bent forward and started to explore his loincloth, which turned out to be, as she suspected, just a narrow strip of material wound several times around his waist and thighs. When she had it partially unravelled she pulled it down from the top with her teeth, wincing as his erection suddenly popped out and hit her in the eye.

Then she hooked herself onto it and started blowing him. With her wrists behind her back she was very handicapped, for her normal method was address only the glans penis and the upper part of the shaft with her mouth, and to pump the lower part more vigorously with her hands. The only male who had previously made her fellate him while in bondage had seized her head and used it as if he was masturbating, forcing her to deep-throat him whether she liked it or not. He had cum quickly, but that was, apparently, not allowed.

Labia could not help wondering which of them, or both, would be punished if he did cum in her mouth. The thought that it might be her was enough to make her careful, because if she was to be whipped she wanted it to be by a real alpha male or a true bull dyke, not a callow youth who should have been grovelling at her feet, begging her master to make her touch him. She suspected that the traction-male who was pedalling their carriage was more of a real man, if only because he needed to be kept caged.

She quickly settled into a gentle rhythm that seemed to satisfy her escort without threatening an eruption, and she began to realize that they were going a long way underground. The passages through which they passed became narrower, lower and more winding, with more water dripping from the roofs. At one point they stopped in a passing loop while two carriages, both empty except for the pedalling slaves, went the other way. The seemed to be working hard despite being so lightly loaded, and Labia realized that her carriage was on a slight but continuous downward incline.

She thought that they were now in a disused mine, driven very deep into a hillside. There was another passing loop before they arrived at their destination, and two empty vehicles passed them, and one that was occupied by two collared submissives, one male and one female. They were probably more escorts, for their wrists were free. Then, with their own traction-slave seeming barely winded, they passed through a doorway to reach their destination.

***

The underground complex was massive. What no-one yet knew was that it was a relic of an ice age during which a planet-bound and now-extinct civilization had burrowed deep into the ground to escape the howling storms and constant blizzards on the surface. In the darkest depths was a group of caverns, each of which contained a dry circular pit, varying in size but all very large, with the biggest being about thirty yards in diameter. Opinion varied as to whether they were natural, or had been dug out laboriously for some industrial process. If the latter, it must have been something that justified unfathomable amounts of manual labour.

Tests did not reveal any dangerous residues, so work began to convert them into very specialized environments. Over about twenty years they gradually developed into the "pits of depravity" into which Labia was now being introduced. The tram stopped in a kind of ante-room; very plush with wall hangings of silks and Persian rugs, with the track set into a thick carpet. It was not immediately obvious that the floor incorporated a turntable, and the young man urged her out of the carriage and pressed a button to operate it.

He was going back with the vehicle, she was going through the only other doorway, which was closed only by a curtain. He waited unto she was gone, stuffing his erection back into his loincloth, and she smiled at him as she walked through the curtain, onto to fall a few feet into some very soft, thick foam, which she could not see because it was almost dark. Then hands were grasping her arms and legs, while hands were tearing her dress from her body, so she was naked within half a minute. Then the first bodies were pressing themselves against hers.

The first pit had a floor of firm memory foam topped by a thick layer of roughly torn pieces of much softer material. It was kept in almost, but not quite total darkness, so while Labia could perceive shapes looming over and around her, she could not link them to the hands that were groping her body. She could tell that they were also groping one another, seeking out the submissives whose wrists were all confined behind their backs. Hands held and twisted her breasts and lips met hers, and the occasional nipple was pushed into her mouth.

Labia tried to relax and let the bodies flow around and over her, sliding easily in the damp, humid air. She thought that she was with a group of three men and two women, with two other submissive women who were sometimes on the peripheries, and sometimes rolling under or over her.

More and more hands sought out her pussy and her asshole, pushing fingers inside, and the occasional penis was pushed into her mouth, only to be withdrawn and replaced by another mouth, or a breast. It was a surprisingly long time before she felt the first erection entering her vagina. Then it went in quickly and deep, and it was very thick and hard. She was on her side, and had a dim image of a dark void next to her, with big hands mauling her breasts, so she assumed that the man was big and black. The bodies around her were completely uncoordinated, and she realized that other hands were competing for her breasts. Then, suddenly, she was violated in her back passage, which had never been penetrated before.

Foreplay was obviously out of fashion, at least in this establishment. Cocks were simply rammed into their sockets. As a total beginner at anal sex, Labia was bound to feel pain, but it lasted only a very short time, to be replaced by a feeling of fulness that she found very satisfying, especially in the way it combined with the more familiar sensations arising from the shaft in her vagina. The other shadowy figures receded from her consciousness, even though hands were still grasping for her feet and face, and she just felt herself sandwiched between the two male presences, both of which seemed huge.

Labia felt used; bound and helpless while others treated her as a sex-toy, rolling her between their sweaty bodies, making her cum and then changing places to carry on until they both ejaculated into her. There was some kissing and fondling then, but soon they both left her, disappearing into the heaps of foam along with all the others, who had not waited for their turns.

She was aware of movement around her, but it was very difficult to make progress in the mass of material, bound as she was. Unable to use her hands and with her feet restricted, she wallowed forward, making for what she thought might be the centre of the circle, until she came upon a pair of legs that, judging from the amount of hair on them, were male. Deciding to take the bird in the hand, she went for the genitals, and was soon fellating the stranger's penis, which was half-flaccid at first, but soon hardened in her mouth. In the soft foam it was difficult to brace herself to keep to a rhythm, but he held her head with his hands, and came so quickly that it could almost have been called premature ejaculation.

After that, struggling on with the taste of him in her mouth, she felt strangely empty with all her holes unoccupied. When she realized that, she understood much more of what it meant to be a woman wholly devoted to the giving and receiving of sexual pleasure. Then she came upon two female lovers, both dominants, who were already making love to one another. They pulled her in, and she had her first lesbian experience.

Softer lips kissed hers as fingers pushed into her vulva, seeking her clitoris but treating it with infinite respect, while others wormed their way into her bottom. They had already given one another enough orgasms, so they concentrated entirely on Labia, climaxing and convulsing her until he was limp and floppy, and even more helpless than her bondage dictated. Others seemed to know to keep away from them, although the snapping and rattling of Labia's leg-irons and hobble chain must have given away their location.

Afterwards the two women, still such shadowy figures that she had little idea what they looked like, or how old they were, shepherded her to the side of the circle to show her where she could suck on pipes to get fresh water, or to feed herself on a thin gruel and pellets of compressed cereal. While she was still there, however, she was seized by the arms and pulled out through an opening in the edge of the circle, and immediately deposited into another one.

The second pit was wet. The floor was padded but covered with about six inches of what she assumed at first was water. She realized almost immediately that it was slightly viscous, and that it was mildly perfumed; perhaps with a mixture of patchouli and ylang-ylang. The second pit was just as dark as the first, and in her bondage it was not much easier for Labia to make progress. It was best done on her knees, but both the hobble chain and the liquid slowed her down.

Tired from her involuntary exertions in the first pit, Labia was inclined to find a smooth spot in the side wall and try to rest, propped up out of the liquid. Then she came upon another woman, bound like she was, and as far as she could tell in the near-darkness, of similar age and build. Meeting head-on, they rested against one another for a minute or two. Both found it reassuring to lean against another helpless woman, even though they knew that the pit contained predators who could separate them in an instant and ravish them to their hearts content.

Perhaps it was that thought that brought their mouths together in a long and passionate French kiss. Their faces and lips were wet both from the liquid, for both had tipped over into it while struggling to keep moving, and there was also a slight but continuous drizzle to ensure that occupants of the pit was kept well coated. As the couple writhed together, trying to keep their breasts and nipples in contact, Labia gradually relaxed as she learnt to accept that she would be soaked for the duration of her stay in the second pit.

They also found their voices, neither having spoken so far. "You're a breath of fresh air," said the other girl. "My name is Juicy. So far today's just been one hard cock after another."

"I quite like hard cock," replied Labia. "I suppose that's why I'm here, but I'm coming to appreciate pussy too. Have you been in this pit all day?"

"All month. I've been here for five weeks. I live in the pits. I'm a slave owned by the management. Soon I'll be moved to another pit. There are half a dozen of us, and they rotate us to avoid any bad effects on our skin."

They kissed for a minute, and then Labia demanded more detail. "You can't have your wrists behind you for five weeks? And where do you sleep.?"

"No, just all day and every day. Around the edges of this pit there are shelves just above the level of the liquid. We slaves climb into them and someone comes round and re-chains us with our wrists in front of our bodies, locked to a ring set in the stone. There are drains for our wastes and we get hosed down and given enemas in the mornings. I suppose I'm telling you more than you wanted to know. You'll only be in here for a few hours."

"Any idea where I go next, Juicy?"

"The light's very bad in here, but I'm guessing you're a looker. They'll probably pull you out for use by one of the managers. The CEO has a pit of his own, paradoxically called the 'Mountain of Lust', with his bed on the top. It's an honour to be chosen to spend the night there."

"May I change the subject, Juicy? I'm curious to know how you came to be a slave, and how you came to be here."

"When I was nineteen I went on holiday to the USA, and in South Carolina it all went horribly wrong. I was caught in the crossfire as cops were shooting at some bank robbers, and although I was only hit in the shoulder the bill came to tens of thousands of dollars, which I didn't have. Lawyers promised to get it back for me from the police, but in the end the legal expenses exceeded the award of compensation and costs by a hundred thousand. Then I was accused of defrauding my own lawyers, and threatened with twenty years in the penitentiary, which I knew was a fearsome place. I couldn't leave, of course, and had no money for decent accommodation. I was told, discreetly, that my way home to England was to clear my debts by selling myself as a sex-slave, so here I am."

Labia's reaction was to press herself as hard against her as she could, but it was soon obvious that Juicy wanted sex more than sympathy, so they were kissing and rubbing nipples again when two free males sandwiched them, both using their rear openings. It was a different feeling this time because of the slipperiness of the liquid that surrounded them, so Labia felt the erection thrusting in and out of her, but there was no friction, and no serious stretching. It was pleasant but not orgasmic, and she was not disappointed when both men came, withdrew and disappeared as silently as they had arrived.

If she was hoping for a prolonged lovemaking with Juicy she was disappointed, although they made a good start. The shallow liquid would have made a "69" very difficult, but with Juicy on her back with her legs folded, her vulva was just in the clear, and Labia munched her to orgasm, assuming that the favour would be returned. Instead, two huge black men appeared, sloshing their way along, grabbing her by her bound arms and hauling her away, feet dangling in the liquid but hardly touching the bottom.

The two males were massive, but even in the dark Labia could tell that they were not the hard-bodied alphas that she had encountered before. They were more like the pantomime enforcers from Aladin or some similar production, with plump and rounded bodies but without the silky clothing. They were completely naked, but as she brushed against them she could tell that they were both erect. They were not, however, going to use her for sex.

Labia was hustled to the side of the pit and up some steps that led onto dry rock, with the liquid cascading off her body, and her two new escorts dried her off with towels. Unhappy at having been torn away from her new friend, she was only partially cooperative, twisting and turning in their grasp and trying to get her hands, locked behind her as they were, to their genitals. They were more concerned to dry her than to hold her still, so she managed to grab them both briefly. What astonished her, however, was that when she tried to grab the testicles of one of them, she found nothing there. Their fleshy bodies seemed to make more sense when she realized that they were both eunuchs, although they had penises that could have erections. To what extent they could experience sexual pleasure, she never had the chance to find out.

The eunuchs fed Labia, giving her chunks of cheeses, cold meats, pies and salads, all fed to her by hand, and they showed no sign of releasing her hands. She now had no idea how long she had been in the pits, and therefore how long her wrists had been locked behind her back. She was experiencing no discomfort, and indeed felt quite relaxed in the company of the two black giants. Sitting on their laps, they felt comfortable, rather like garden furniture.

They never penetrated her, although she was willing, and did her best to make that clear. By squirming on their laps- and they passed her from one to the other while feeding her- she could always feel their erections, but completely failed to work either of them into either of her orifices. Nor did they seem to want fellation. She had no means of knowing it, but as a matched pair they were also lovers, and as slaves were among the very few who were permitted monogamy.

Labia had already deduced that all the males that she met in the pits had some artificial means of maintaining their erections. That applied also to geldings, which was a better description of her present escorts. After feeding they took her to another large cave with a pit that was simply filled with water, and lifted her bodily into a rowing boat, sitting in front of and behind her. Carefully and deliberately, her wrists were released and locked to staples at the ends of the oars, and with waves of their hands, they told her to row.

Chapter Three - The Underworld

Labia imagined herself, as she dipped the oars into the water, as the ferryman on the River Styx. Although the jetty and its environs were dimly lit, only a few yards from shore it was almost pitch black, and it was also mistier and more humid even than the other pits. She was not a bad oarswoman, but the boat was broad and cumbersome, built more for safety than speed, and the two geldings were a heavy cargo.

After only a minute or two, the jetty began to disappear into the haze, and she became more aware of her surroundings. The darkness was not total; she could see the outlines of her escorts and a circle of black water around the boat. Things were moving: just once she saw a female face, and then the tips of two breasts, break the surface. Then the sting of a light whip across her back reminded her that she was there to row, not to admire the scenery.

The gelding in the stern had a mobile phone with which he seemed to be navigating, steering with the tiller. They were not always going straight, and Lydia concluded that, although the pit was very large, they were progressing by a pattern of zig-zags and circles. Presumably, the idea was to exercise her arms before they were locked behind her again, and/or to test her endurance. With occasional touches of the whip she was encouraged to row faster and faster, and finally, just as she felt that she could do no more and would have to endure the lashes, another jetty came into view.

She was disembarked with her wrists once more behind her back, and collected by a statuesque blond slave who wore chains that loosely connected her wrists, ankles, waist and collar, but left her free to perform her duties as a kind of receptionist and guide. "Greetings, Labia," she said formally. "You should call me Miss Wetness. You're here to spend a short time as our lord and master's anal slave, while the usual incumbent goes for some treatments."

The "usual incumbent" was pulled out from the shadows, her head in a leather bag. She was obviously going to be locked to the oars and would row back blind, but by then Wetness had led Labia to a long and winding staircase in the nearby wall of the cavern. It was better lit than most of the surroundings, and as they ascended they passed several niches, in each of which was chained a naked slave.

"This staircase serves as one of our lord's dungeons," explained Wetness, who seemed happy to have someone with whom to talk. "When he's finished with someone for the time being, he assigns them a level, according to how pleased, or otherwise, he is with them. Those in the lowest levels rarely see the high chamber again. They're really just waiting to be shipped out, and to spend the next few months of their lives shovelling shit. We produce a lot of that here."

It was a long staircase and Labia lost count of the number of niches. The steps were well-maintained and even, and with her bare feet she found that she could move easily and confidently now, and Wetness never had to steady her. Emerging onto a stone-walled landing, they stopped for another briefing.

"With the lord and master, you need to be totally obedient. He can detect the tiniest trace of any hesitation. When he isn't using you, you are encouraged to play with the decorations. You'll understand what I mean when you're in there. There will also be opportunities to sleep, which you should take, as he'll keep you for as long as he wants you; up to forty-eight hours. Be especially careful with the lady. You need to be very quick to appreciate her beauty. Now go down this corridor and take the first entrance on the right."

Labia obeyed, pushing through a fabric screen to enter a completely different world, and one of breathtaking opulence. She was at the bottom of a huge circular plinth which occupied the whole of one of the smaller pits, being about sixty or seventy yards in diameter. A series of steps, all broad enough to rest on, and all thickly carpeted, led up to a broad platform, which incorporated another smaller one.

The lord and master disported himself in the larger area, at the top of kind of pyramid of slaves who were chained on the steps below him. He had a large bed, a sofa and a desk with a large screen, and there was a lift to take him down to a suite of rooms that filled the inside of the mound. He spent most of his time, however, on the top, quite literally lording it over his domain. As he was reclining on his bed, Labia guessed that she should approach him on her knees, shuffling forward awkwardly on the soft, thick-piled carpet. He watched and waited for her to arrive.

The master was not a bad looking man, although he was nothing special. His body looked robust but slightly overweight, and he was hairless below his head. His face was broad and his mouth large, but he nevertheless radiated a confidence, almost a charisma, that made him more than the sum of his parts. He just said "Cock," and she knew that she had to head straight for that, taking it into her mouth. He sat on the edge of the bed while she knelt between his legs, her head bobbing up and down. She made very sure to slide him into her throat, and to bring her lips right down to his body. It was less difficult because his penis was not the largest that she had encountered, and she did her best to demonstrate her skills, using differential pressure on different parts of his shaft and teasing the tip with her tongue. She did nothing original, but she obviously passed the test, and without cumming he pulled her up onto the mattress and put her in the missionary position, pushing into her firmly but not roughly.

Labia did her best to ignore his status, and to relax and enjoy the sex, and they came together, more by luck than judgement. By then she was more aware of her surroundings, which were very unusual. The bed was a four-poster but without curtains or canopy. To each post was bound a naked female, facing inward to watch the action on the mattress. They could not turn their heads away because their gags were wound around both their heads and the posts.

She remembered that, according to Wetness she was supposed to be his anal slave, but he had begun their acquaintance by using her mouth and her vagina. He was still hard, so he could bugger her at any time, but he showed no sign of wanting to do so. Instead he inspected her, stroking her face, kissing her mouth, and manhandling her breasts, pulling at her nipples. He made no comment, but finally told her to go and see his wife. He rang a bell, which summoned a servant-slave to untie one of the posted slaves, who was, presumably, his next companion.

Labia left the bed and made her way to the smaller mound, climbing the steps and noting that there were no slaves attached. Nor were there any at the top; just a huge mattress-like circle with visible drains built into the surface. The lady was positioned in the centre, and she was the fattest person that she had ever seen. She was almost a miniature pyramid, sitting upright but forming a pile of concentric rolls of greyish fat, so her head seemed tiny in comparison with, say, her enormous hips. Her breasts were vast but drooping bulges that covered the front of her body, the nipples pointing down and resting on her thighs. To Labia, she was a monster; a figure from a horror movie.

Her face, however, was not too bad, and had probably been very beautiful when her husband had married her. Now it was very chubby-cheeked and the surplus flesh was making her eyes look narrow, but her mouth was almost attractive, pushed into a Cupid's bow by the surrounding fat. She could speak clearly enough, and when she saw Labia approaching she gestured with an arm that was bulbous but tiny in it context, like the miniature forelimbs of some kinds of dinosaurs.

"Welcome, child," said the lady. "Come and kiss me."

How was Labia to reach her, bound as she was? Her only option was to use the great lumps of blubber as a staircase, leaning forward to rest against the upper parts of the human pyramid. Then the pudgy arms reached out to grasp her and pull her close, and she was pulled in to be thoroughly snogged. She did her best to feign enthusiasm, but with a total absence of any sexual attraction if was difficult. The lady liked to use her tongue, and once Labia's body was lodged in a stable position, her hands were all over her breasts.

Then, "Show me what you can do for me," she said, and tipped right back, and leaving Labia to climb down her body over the masses of flesh and fat. She had to turn around and push herself with her feet, and the lady did not seem to mind that. Having reached her objective, Labia then had to decide whether to remain on the bloated stomach in a parody of the "69" position, or whether to move down between the legs, with the knees sticking up into the air like those of a bird ready to be roasted, and then to turn around to approach the vulva or anus from below. She chose the second route, thinking it seemed more respectful, although it was also more difficult.

Labia struggled to understand why her wrists had to be locked behind her back for so much of the time. Sometimes it was highly erotic, making her breasts so much more available and vulnerable, but when there were practical problems to solve it was a nuisance. Having got to where she wanted to be she was confronted with a vertical wall of flesh, with the vulva at the top and the puckered backdoor at the bottom. The whole area was damp with sweat and smelt slightly unclean, and the pussy tasted mildly acrid when Labia began to lick it.

There was nothing attractive about the lady's nether regions. Labia had to approach them purely as an exercise; probably a test. She forced her face through the pussy lips that seemed as swollen as the rest of the grotesque body, She ran her tongue around inside, and as she sensed that the lady was trying to lean further back to raise her vagina, she pushed as deep inside as she could. With bound hands it was hard to stay in the right position, but the lady's huge hulk raised her higher than normal, and that helped a little.

With her limited experience, Labia was not fully aware of the difference that the lady's vast buttocks were making. She just lapped away and watched out for signs that she was making progress. She could certainly feel the mountain of fat heaving and rocking, and then she heard the word "Clit!" and made the effort to raise herself to reach the required spot. She found that she had to push herself up further and lie more on her side, her back supported by a thigh. Then she could twist her shoulders and reach down to circle the clitoris, and then to address it directly.

When the orgasms began they almost threw Labia off, the rolls of lard shaking and heaving, tossing her like waves in a storm, and she had to squirm higher to use as much of her weight as she could to hold herself down to keep her tongue and lips in play. The lady seemed to have several multiple climaxes, and many minutes passed before she was satiated. By then Labia was beginning to detect a different flavour- urine- and she suspected that the regular sex-slaves were more intimately acquainted with it.

From the moment that Labia had entered the pyramid chamber, the impression had begun to take hold, that she was involved in some kind of science fiction or fantasy scenario. Her experience with the lady did a lot to reinforce that impression, especially when she realized, quite late, that the gigantic woman was chained by one ankle to a staple in the floor of her pedestal. Her vastness made her virtually immobile, so she could not imagine why the lord kept her thus. Nor did she ever find out. Once satisfied, the lady summoned some attendants, and told her to put Labia in "the hole," and she was carried away.

She got a brief wash and a few food pellets first, having been taken out of the pyramid chamber to an office in a tunnel nearby. She was nervous- even frightened- for "the hole" did not sound like a desirable destination. She was becoming resigned, however, to accepting whatever was done to, with, or for her, and she made no attempt to resist or protest when she was picked up again and pushed through a hatch in the wall, entering a chute down which she slid at a moderate speed, as down a helter-skelter but lubricated by a slick, oily substance that coated the incline.

She emerged to fall gently into what the staff called "The Pit of Ultimate Degradation [PUD]." It was small- the base was no more than six yards in diameter, but the sides sloped up very gently, so the occupants could climb a short distance despite the lubricant coating. That was an odourless, tasteless and harmless ooze that seeped down the sides and formed an inch-deep pool at the bottom, so the occupants were always covered with it.

The population of the pit varied, but on this occasion it was, until Labia was added, all males. There were about twenty, all naked and erect, with their bodies covering most of the available surface, and all with their arms locked behind their backs. In some cases their wrists were crossed, in others they were adjacent, and others were in box-ties or square armbinders. All had hobble chains varying between three and twelve inches long. The firmly padded surface was too slippery for any of them to stand, so they all made progress only by slithering and wriggling in the viscous coating.

All male slaves were dosed with libido-enhancing drugs, and all were capable of far more erections and ejaculations than an untreated man. Before entering the PUD they received booster doses that made them little more than sex-machines. The pit heaved and seethed with copulating bodies, making wonderful footage for a handful of highly restricted membership-only websites. Some were proficient at the "anal goldfish," but oral sex was probably more common. The gold standard was to be spit-roasted, often by slaves who were themselves being buggered.

The scene tended to go through cycles, with periods of couplings gradually giving way to multiples and then orgies, only to subside again into twosomes and threesomes as the males tired of keeping to demanding positions. Sodomy in bondage was easier than it looked because they were so thoroughly lubricated by the ooze in which they wallowed, but watchers could usually spot one or two armpits in use, with the occasional foot job.

When exhausted and in need of a few minutes' peace, a slave might scramble a little way up the bank away from the heaving mass, but even then he would probably find his toes being sucked, and would finally be dragged back down. There were spigots dispensing gruel around the sides, and nipples from which water could be sucked.

Only a minority of the males were naturally gay, but their need for sex far outweighed any preferences that they might have. Although most were physically attractive, they varied in age, size and ethnicity, but in the pit all were treated alike. The insertion of a single female, however, was bound to provoke them to new paroxysms of sexual activity, and Labia found herself mobbed from the first few seconds.

How could she possibly manage to satisfy as many as twenty males, all bound as she was, all coated, as she was almost immediately, in almost frictionless slime? She found, at first, that she could be most accommodating by lying on her side and crossing her ankles, widening her knees even if it meant tipping herself over one way or the other. Somehow the men, much more used to the environment, managed to work their way into a penetrating position, so after the first minute or two she was gangbanged almost continuously.

There was, however, no orderly queuing, or even fighting for priority. Some males started buggering those who were using her, and some tried to worm their way between the struggling bodies to suck her breasts, or even to kiss her while she had a penis in her mouth. She became the central point in a mound of heaving flesh, but to outside viewers she was sometimes difficult to spot, as all the bodies were equally hairless.

Some of the males had not been with a woman for weeks, and when they got themselves in they tended to stay as long as possible. Some brief quarrels erupted as others became impatient, but most found solace in one another, and in the course of the first few hours they all got at least one turn with Labia. The latter found her popularity thrilling at first. Lubrication was so plentiful that there was very little wear and tear on her vagina or rectum, but it did mean that orgasms, for her and everyone else, were few and far between.

Her mouth soon tired, so she found herself just lying with it open, letting the shafts pump into her throat. Most of the males learnt, after the initial incidents, that they should not stay with her indefinitely, so many had to finish off with one another. As everyone wound down a little, a few of the males, starved of female company, wanted to spend their time snogging with her, and she managed to exchange a few words with some of them.

"How long will we be in here?" she asked a young black man who she would certainly have been glad to meet in different circumstances.

He lacked a clear answer. "For me it's been three days," he replied. "I've no idea at all how many more I'm here for. It's always different."

"This isn't your first spell?"

They were talking now with their lips touching. "My third. Once it was one day, once it was seven. I've never heard of anyone being left for more than a fortnight."

He was so anxious to resume full French kissing that she abandoned her questioning. Some issues, however, were becoming pressing. She managed to find out where the food and water could be obtained, although whether she would ever get there remained to be seen. There were more urgent issues, and she managed to speak to an older white man who was surprisingly tender and considerate with her.

"How do you tell how much time is passing?" she asked him. "There are no clocks."

"They fish us out, a few at a time, for defecation," he replied. "Our systems are treated to be very regular. I presume you've been given the necessary drugs, even if you don't know it."

That answered two of her questions. "What about peeing?" she asked.

"Just do it where you are. This stuff is sterile and renders it harmless and odourless." He saw her reaction and laughed, kissing her briefly. "This isn't called 'The Pit of Ultimate Degradation' for nothing."

Labia wished she could levitate herself out of the stuff. If she had had a safe word she would have used it then. It was at that point that it really dawned on her, that she had not been experiencing a themed weekend. It was not a role-playing game, but her role. It was ridiculous to imagine that she would be returning to her old life afterwards. She was surrounded by sex-slaves, and she was well on the way to becoming one of their number.

"Why are you here?" she asked her admirer, when she was able to take a breath. He had wriggled to a point from which he could try to drive his erection into her body, so their faces had separated, at least for a few seconds.

"I was a company director, and I had my hand in the till. I was given a choice. Either I spent ten years in prison and everything I had was taken, so my family would live in penury, or they could keep everything, and I was sold into slavery, for life."

They were quiet for a minute as he managed to sink himself into her vagina. They were losing their moment of semi-privacy as another male was nuzzling his bottom, and yet another had obvious ambitions to get his penis into her mouth. Before it all turned into a perverted kind of daisy-chain he bent right down and muttered into her mouth.

"You have some very big surprises in store for you. Roll with the punches; you don't have any choice. The world is not what you think it is."

That was all he managed to say, and the next hour was just flesh-on-flesh, with Labia feeling very more distant from reality. He had probably thought that his words would alarm her, but she felt strangely calm. Her only immediate concern was that, although her vaginal and anal tunnels were protected by the unsavoury lubricant, she was feeling some bruising on her hips and buttocks from the bodies thumping against her. She found it difficult to believe that she, or anyone else, could survive a week.

Chapter Four - Revelation

Labia's last memory of the PUD was of two males trying to get their erections into her mouth simultaneously. Bound as they were- and as she was- they were probably not going to manage it, and she always wondered whether she had imagined the incident. Somehow, the management could detect her change of attitude, or mood, and had decided that she was ready for the next stage.

For that, Labia was unconscious, and she only pieced together later on what had happened to her. Her arms and shoulders were exercised by machines, numerous samples were taken, and she received dozens of injections. Some of them were tiny implants that would monitor her life signs and location and report them to nearby signal amplifiers. Some would further enhance her libido and her production of vaginal fluid. Her breasts would begin to expand, although she was already well-stacked, and would soon begin to lactate.

She also gained immunity from a host of aches, pains and diseases, and contraception that would last indefinitely. There was, however, only one change of which she was aware almost as soon as she regained consciousness on the lord and master's plinth. She was bound upright between two posts, her wrists and ankles bound directly to them, leaving her with virtually no room for manoeuvre. In addition her waist was immobilized with an adjustable metal band that was fixed by brackets to the posts.

She was of course naked, but not blindfolded or gagged, and it soon became apparent that the latter was unnecessary. Something had been done to disable her voice, so she could make quiet whinnying noises, and a subdued "neighing" like a distant horse, but could not speak or sing continuous notes. That discovery caused a few moments of panic, reminding her of her complete helplessness as she fought the ropes and the belt. The master was sitting, watching her impassively as she regained her senses, and the lady had dragged her bulk to the edge of her smaller plinth to look down on her. It was the master, however, who did the talking.

"Welcome back, my dear," he began. "I presume you've now realized that you won't be going back to your former life. You are now a slave. To understand how we can make that decision, you need to know much more than most of your contemporaries about life, the universe and everything."

He paused, pleased with himself, before continuing. "My dear wife is the CEO of our organization in this dimension. I am the Director of Acquisitions in this dimension and several others. This is one of an infinite number of alternative Earths, but only a few dozen are habitable, and fewer are inhabited by human beings. On several of those planets, slavery is not only permitted, but is a routine part of life. The Corporation that we represent specializes in sex-slavery, and we have three planets, at the moment, which are colonies devoted to providing sexual pleasure."

He paused for a moment to let her absorb what he had said. He was doubtful about the policy of depriving slaves of their voices before they were briefed. It was easier, in some ways, if they could provide natural breaks by asking questions, or even protesting.

"You will be wondering," he went on, "what your function is to be. We've watched you carefully while you've been with us. You're certainly sex-slave material, but probably not pleasure-slave material. My dear wife felt that you lacked enthusiasm for some of the things she asked you to do, and there are many techniques that you need to be taught, whereas in some girls they are instinctive. However, you have good strong legs and excellent thighs, and your breasts will develop into capacious milk-tanks. You won't have the strength to pull ploughs, or the stamina to draw omnibuses, but you'll make a first-rate recreational pony-slave. We've already taken the step of removing your voice, for ponies don't talk."

"He came much closer to Labia then, and spoke quietly to her while fondling her breasts. "I often think," he said, "that fresh slaves fall into one of two categories. Some are voice-trained. They accept their roles and the training that they need, and do their best to prepare themselves to bring pleasure to their users. Other slaves are broken to the lash, whipped into obedience until they accept that the way to avoid pain is to perform their duties to perfection. The outcomes are often remarkably similar, but generally speaking, pleasure slaves fall into the first category, and pony slaves into the second.

"I hope you will be an exception. Your functions will be to act as a pony slave when required, but also to be a household hucow and sex-slave. To do all that well needs motivation, not just fear of the whip, so we'll have to hope that we've judged you aright. If not, you'll end up on one of the mining planets. Now I've done enough talking, and it's time for your formal enslavement."

By some unseen means he summoned the two muscle-bound geldings to the platform, and one of them pulled a shutter in the floor open, allowing a brazier of hot coals to rise to floor level. Naturally, Labia was gripped with fear, as no doubt she was intended to be. If the intention was purely to mark her body, it could have been done painlessly or with her still unconscious. They did not prolong her suffering by making her wait. One of the pair pulled a branding iron out from the brazier, inspected it, and pressed it to her right thigh. The pain was blinding, and the sizzling of her flesh made it worse. He seemed to hold it there for a long time before he withdrew it, nodding to the master to signal that the brand was neat and clear. Lydia, having come close to dislocating her shoulders, had fainted.

There was no bucket of cold water. Her brand was sprayed with a healing and anaesthetic ointment that removed the pain almost immediately, so she returned to consciousness very quickly to find that both the geldings were fingering her, one around her clitoris and the other in her bottom. The metal waistband had been removed. A kind of glow- a delicious feeling of warmth- was spreading through her body from the site of the brand. She watched the black face and bulging muscles of the gelding in front of her, amazed at his skills as his fingertips fluttered over her bud. Soon she was cumming. Probably, no more than ten minutes had passed since her flesh was seared by the red-hot iron.

Labia's struggles were limited by the fact that her wrists and ankles were bound directly to the posts, instead of hanging from them in chains. Most of the strain was on her shoulder and leg muscles, and she very much doubted whether she would be able to walk when she was taken down. Despite that, she lacked the means of dissipating the sensations that surged through her body like tsunamis, and the geldings continued to shepherd her from one orgasm to the next until she was limp and exhausted, her legs slack so she was hanging from her wrists.

Then another slavegirl came forward with a bowl of water and a sponge, and Labia revived a little under her ministrations. The master came forward to speak to her for what proved to be the last time. He felt her leg muscles, which were now braced to take her weight. "My dear, you will be one of the best recreational ponies we have. You'll go to our best resort, to service our most valued clients."

He felt her pussy, still hot and throbbing, and covered his hand with her combined sweat and pussy juice. Doing the same with the other, he felt both her breasts and squeezed the nipples. "You'll soon be a milk-pony; all things to all users. I have just the right place for you."

From above came a kind of simpering snigger. "My dear wife loves a milker," remarked the master. "She'd love me to keep you for her, but there's another girl coming through who'll do just as well. You're moving on now."

Labia had just enough time to wonder why, if the master thought so much of his gigantic wife, he kept her chained up. Then one of the geldings touched her throat with a tranquilizer gun, and in four or five seconds she was unconscious. That part of her life was over.