European Nightmare Part VI - Sex Stories

European Nightmare Part VI

... woman she’d only seen dressed like an extra from a horror film now stood at a desk wearing a sharp grey suit with her hair now styled into a far more flattering bun. And the room was the swankiest office Olivia had ever seen. No stone floor, chains, whips or torture devices; luxurious shag carpet, stylish décor, a gorgeous oil painting on the wall - and large windows with a breath-taking view of snow capped mountains on one side and wide sweeping U shaped valley on the other. If it wasn’t for a face that Olivia associated with terror and pain, she would think her just a business woman enjoying the perks of a prestigious job. Shivering, she subconsciously covered herself against the room’s chill. “Arms down,” Greta snapped, “never cover yourself in front of me. Over here.” Lowering her arms and walking toward the desk, the little blonde’s perky breasts jiggled slightly as her feet sank into the soft carpet and goose bumps rose on her soft bronzed skin. With the wax gone and both her holes unblocked, Mehmet had washed her and allowed her to relieve herself. Olivia’s flawless complexion made her look incredible even without make up. The sunlight streaming through the window made her blonde hair into a halo as she stopped at the desk. Walking round, her high heels making no noise, Greta’s eyes never left Olivia who looked ahead, her knees shaking as much with fear as cold. As part of her act, Greta absently checked how thoroughly Mehmet had done his job though she didn’t ...

... really think he hadn’t. With limited time, she was anxious to get on. “Open wide.” Taking a light-pen from her pocket, Greta probed her mouth and underneath her tongue. Her cut had healed perfectly. Keen to maintain her professional appearance, Greta stifled an excited smile. “You look cold?” Greta said to Olivia who didn’t realise it was a question at first, “Answer me!” “Yes,” Olivia answered, then adding quickly, “mistress.” “Well, we would not want that, would we, baby?” Greta stroked her face then went to a cabinet, turning round with an object that made Olivia gasp. Glinting in the light was a large conical sex toy or so she assumed, having heard of such things without ever actually seeing one. Its silvery rounded point expanded to what she thought an impossible girth before shrinking to a black plastic with a cable and plug trailing out the bottom. Putting it down and plugging it into the wall, she silently put her desk chair in front of the menacing cone, then looked at Olivia and clicked her fingers. Shoulders slumped, Olivia moved to the German with shocked eyes fixed on the thing she had to impale herself on. Even after being raped by the men’s giant cocks, as a small girl with only a small hole, she could not see herself getting onto it. But Greta would not let her pain be a reason not to do it. Standing next to the device, she looked pleadingly at Greta. “If you are cold,” Greta spoke like a parent to an unhappy child, “stick that up your twat, it will warm you up ...