The Controller was 'advising' Amy Ventura as to what to say and when to say it. What tone of voice would be allowed Belowstairs. And how Amy's incredible brown eyes should be wide open at all times yet her head and pretty face lowered submissively to the floor at her bare feet.
This instruction was made nigh intolerable for Amy since her naked body (all except for a lace, pale pink bra that the Controller seemed to obsess over) was strung up by the wrists. Her arms secured uncomfortably taut above her head. Inside the very same chamber that Amy had witnessed Lisa being tortured just two (or was it three?) days ago. The helpless brunette who was learning quickly that rape was the least objectionable 'activity' within TheP.o.R.T. was pathetically striving to give her kidnapper her full attention.
And, at the same time, trying to ignore the gravity of her new Owner's intent as he pawed and massaged at Amy's ass cheeks.
"Yes, it will hurt if you force my hand, as it were. Just be thankful slut that - thus far! - your pussy and mouth have been enough to satisfy me. I'm warning you one last time Amy girl that having your anus pounded (by ME!) is less an act of sexual violation and more a method of physical torture. Keep that in mind whore. EYES ON THE FLOOR!"
In terror, the brunette jumped as much as her agonizing restraints allowed. Amy had learned that when her Master raised his voice it was well beyond the point where she should have groveled from the very start.
"Yes! Yes s-sir! I...I'm grateful you've spared my ass Master! Truly I am! Please...pl-lease sir...you know your whore will do whatever y-you like with this worthless body. Please. PLEASE!"
The Controller kept both his hands tight (almost painfully) on Amy's perfect buttocks as his slave humiliated herself. Carefully the sadist went over his checklist:
* Yes, she'd kept her head lowered submissively.
*Yes, she'd arched her back when she spoke to expose her cleavage more prominently.
*Yes, she'd gone up very, very high on tiptoe to accentuate the degrading nature of her plea.
*Yes, she was either sobbing, trembling or both.
"Good girl. You have my permission to relax for a moment..."
The doomed brunette returned to standing at attention upon the soles of her feet. Oftentimes her torturer would force Amy up, up, up on tiptoe until the poor girl's calves were afire with discomfort. Still, she kept her breasts and the bra that'd been chosen for them on full display. For now the Controller wasn't shouting at her. And Amy had been trained to not so much 'bargain' for mercy with her body but to 'portray' her half-naked self as an object for her kidnapper to amuse himself with.
"Good girl. I like you in that bra slut. Have I mentioned though that I chose you Amy specifically for your legs...?"
Amy nodded. Then remembered where she was and who dominated her fate. Immediately the shame in the helpless brunette's soul crept up her throat and sought to appease the Man who might (at times) appear reasonable but never truly came across as merciful.
"Yes...y-yes, my Master. You...you've spoken to this whore about her worthlessness. Her lack of any right to d-dignity, sir. So I'm glad my legs and my feet please y-you, my Master. I'm...I am...sir, this slut is ready to pleasure her Owner. Please fuck me sir. I...I w-want to be raped again Master." (Amy hesitated and sensed the Controller's hands exit her ass sector and redeploy about her front. The brunette stifled a sob and felt her willowy legs being spread ever so slightly apart...until, again, her torturer's fingertips began fondling her pussy lips.) "Please sir. Please..."
For his part the Controller was fully aware of Amy's discomfort in being strung up as she was by her wrists and arms. And he could appreciate the black fear in his prime slave's heart...what with Amy being forced to watch and listen (just yesterday) as Lisa Banks was tortured within this very same room. And yet the sadist could ALSO contemplate imprisoning Amy for upwards of a year or two. Could imagine her agony the very first time she'd be restrained and prepped for anal sex. Could already hear her screams as implements so adept at administering physical pain were eventually applied to Amy's fine, naked body.
Instruction first, betrayal later. The Controller had bent Amy Ventura's mind. Now, her body was following in tow.
"Good girl, I may show mercy" he lied..
So the Man who'd used electricity upon Lisa Banks' clitoris and nipples...the identical Man who would in a year or so eventually sell Amy Ventura into South American prostitution...gently eased the body of his slave down from the rafters. Amy moaned in miserable relief as the crippling tension in her shoulders and lower back went from excruciating to somewhat bearable. The brunette attempted to murmur 'thank you' to her Owner...but instead accepted her fate as the lace, pale pink bra she didn't own was removed from her excellent bosom.
Amy felt herself being carried over to the bare mattress in the corner of the Punishment Room. From her own horrifying education of the past two weeks the brunette guessed her rapist would eschew bindings as her body was simply wiped out from being hung as an ornament for hours on end. But the Controller was in a playful mood, so - as his victim whimpered and contorted in pain - fresh bindings were applied. Amy's arms were pinned very painfully behind her back at BOTH her wrists and elbows. And the same ball gag that had muffled Lisa's recent shrieks of agony was shoved and clamped inside Amy's parched mouth.
"Eyes open whore. Legs apart. Good girl." (The tortured undressed himself...) "I may have selected you for your legs, Amy girl...but me thinks tonight your nipples will be on the menu." (Amy recoiled at the girth and power of her Master's cock...) "You know the rules...make sure I have a good time. Or else." (Penetration and pain coalesced into shame. Molars found the tips of breasts and the rapidity of fuck-thrusts doubled...then redoubled.) "Good girl."
This was rape. This was torture. And Amy had been instructed to endure both.