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Scarlett's Biggest Fan (DeRe x glasspearls)

Chase watched Scarlett's wet skin shimmer and tremble under the water. Like a animal under conditioning she was anticipating the shocks, feeling the pain even before it hit. It just amplified her torture all the more and further conditioned her to his will. Once again he couldn't help thinking of her perfect body as an immaculate instrument, with himself as a perverted maestro playing it to perfection. She was being burnt alive from the inside out, the suffering singing in her part of her, and he knew exactly how to make he shock even more painful than the last.

He delighted in her every little gasp and groan. There was no escape for her, mentally or physically, from this assault. It pierced deeper and hurt harder than any rape thusfar. The idea was to fill her head so full of suffering that it would leave no room for pride or resistance. Chase worked on zapping away her strength piece by piece.

"You're a slow learner, slave," he hissed. "But you're getting there. Now if you want something to eat today, something real, you're going to be a good little bitch for your master. Understand?"

When the words finally came - falling thick and urgent from Scarlett's bleeding mouth - he allowed himself a slight smile of satisfaction. He added a few extra jabs just to punctuate her cries, jabbing the prob hard into her firm ass for the last time. Then he switched it off and threw it aside, before releasing the cuffs and taking Scarlett down from hanging on the showerhead. She was like a limp, slippery doll in his grip and he half-carried, half-dragged her twitching body back into the torture chamber.

He left her wobbling in the center of the room for a moment, while he collected something from a hook on the wall. It was a set of expensive red satin lingerie, French style, complete with sheer stockings and numerous bows. He threw it over to the shivering Scarlett as she stood there before him.

"Put this on, quickly." He said in a flat voice. "It's time we started your training."
 
Scarlett could barely process the change in abuse coming from Chase. So quickly his tactics changed from physical abuse to an emotional toying, baiting and humiliating her with satin and frills rather than chains and steel. Her arms reached forward trying to catch the expensive lingerie. The vibrant red colour and the luxurious fabric served as a fleeting reminder of the spoiled life she had become so accustomed too. As the fabric slipped between her still trembling fingers, Scarlett felt all remnants of her life as an A-list actress slip away from her as well.

Shivering at the sound of Chase's commands, Scarlett stumbled forward to collect the lingerie but tripped over her own feet as they shook out the remaining jolts of electricity that still seemed to tease her nerves. Falling to the concrete ground, Scarlett had to muster all the strength she could to stand before him again and dress herself up for him- her Master.

Shaking like a doe in front of its predator, Scarlett slipped her feet into the stockings one at a time, the sheer material feebly attempting to cover her bloody and bruised legs. The juxtaposition between the feminine bows on the stockings and the bruises on her legs must have given Chase some sort of high, as the rest of her lingerie was equally as delicately, almost mockingly, soft and feminine. Scarlett didn't have time to contemplate what her training as his slave would entail as she slid the red fabric over the lips of her aching pussy.

Next came the frilled corset, a striking red shade that she wrapped over her porcelain torso. The shade matched her own crimson blood exactly, feeling as if she was draping herself in her own blood. Wincing as the material mashed her boobs upwards and pinched at her abused waist, Scarlett tried with no avail to reach her arms to her back to lace up the strings.

With a metallic taste in her mouth from the blood, Scarlett piped up, hating herself for having to ask Chase for help getting dolled up in this costume.

"Master, will you help me?" Scarlett asked, turning around slowly to show him the loose strings of the corset. The humiliation that burned inside her for dressing up for Chase was nothing compared to having to ask him for help in order to further degrade herself. Her hands reached forward to move her wet blonde locks from her back, feeling the wispy pieces beginning to dry in loose curls.
 
To Chase's bloodshot, bulging eyes Scarlet seemed like a marionette, moving about by sheer force of his will and words. She stumbled and shivered like something jangling on a string. Once again his firm, raging cock stood to attention before the terrified Scarlet. Smooth silk sliding over her elegant curves heightened his excitement. The seductive, sexualized lingerie stood in stark contrast to her debased condition. As her quivering hands rolled up the slutty stockings, Chase licked his cracked lips and barked more urgent commands.

"Quickly, slave!" he urged in his callous, jeering tones. "You suit that slutty little ensemble, that's for fuckin' real." He saw her flinch as his words continued to sting as bitterly as her wounds.

When Scarlett turned to ask in a flat, but obviously frightened voice for his help, Chase could tell she had been pushed to a whole new level of humiliation. Her shining green eyes were unable to meet his. He pulled the cords of the corset tighter than necessity, hitching up Scarlett's already ample breasts to an exaggerated degree. "That'll do it, slave. Let's get a look a you. Turn around, show Master what a hot little slut you are."

Chase walked around her, appraising her like a piece of succulent flesh. He pulled aside a hidden panel in the wall to reveal a small music player, and with the press of a few buttons a solid bass beat began to thud around the concrete dungeon. A woman's voice began to coo seductively, begging a lover for all matter for depravities.

"Okay then, slave, training times!" yelled Chase over the music. "Strip for Master, and make it good. I hope you're fucking better at taking at outfit off than you are putting it on. Strip nice and slow, or you know it's gonna hurt!"
 
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