Gina had tried most of the tables and found little challenge. She had never told her friends that her father was a dealer for years at a casino, and had taught her most of his tricks. She was sure she had at least $20,000 now but was enjoying herself. She began scanning the more interesting games.

The whipping booth seemed to be the only solution for Monica. She now owed at least $10,000 to the man who stood next to her. He gripped her upper arm tightly, as if he was afraid she might run away. It seemed like a good idea to take the loan from the handsome man who sat next to her. But as she lost and lost again, she knew he would want to find a way to win his money back. She looked around her for a moment, trying to see her friends, but they had been gone for hours. She read the sign at the entrance. It stated $10 a stroke for a light whip, $100 for a cat-o-nine tails and $500 for the bullwhip. They shuffled over to the observation room glancing out to the floor of the whipping stand. A well-endowed young lady was stretched wide by chains. Her body, covered with sweat, was tense as she waited for the first blow. She had chosen the bullwhip, Monica could see, as the whip master swung it through the air to warm up. Without much warning, the lash landed hard on the girl¡¯s back. Her body bucked but she held back her scream. Monica knew that the game was played based on a number of lashes. If you chose ten lashes, you must endure the entire ten without making a sound to win the cash. If not, you would owe the cash and still receive the entire ten. It was a gamble she was willing to take. The girl was strong. Bright red welts had risen from her back from the six lashes that had fallen but she had yet to release a sound. Monica knew she would have to endure a lot of lashes to pay back her debt. "You can see what you're in for, Monica," the man said, smiling. "But you like to gamble so I'll make you a different deal. If you can take ten lashes from the bullwhip without making a sound, I will release you from your debt." Monica was excited by this prospect. She looked out at the woman still receiving her strokes in silence, knowing she could do it too. "And if I make a sound?" "Then you have to be my slave for two months, to do with as I wish." He smiled at her. Monica wasn't at all turned off by this man. He was young, and quite handsome, but she had no concept of what he meant by slave. In her fantasies, she had been captured by a handsome prince and kept as a sex toy, but those always ended and she awoke. She couldn¡¯t believe he would honestly keep her against her will, but a twinkle in his eye caused her to worry. She had seen some of the other girls around here, bound in impossible positions. She knew what was behind his good looks and bright smile. But she was sure she could hold out and win. As sure, a little voice told her, as she was about all those bets she had lost. But she shrugged it off. The man whispered to the attendant, who slipped away, quickly returned with a form for Monica's signature. "Oh, and one other thing." He smiled. "You have to take the lashes on your front." Monica was shocked. She wasn't sure she could take it on her breasts, but she knew it couldn't be much worse, and she had no choice. She knew if she didn't satisfy the debt to this man, she would be forced to make repairs in other ways, some of them not too pleasant. She quickly signed the form, as did her debtor, and she was led onto the stage. She watched as the other woman was released. Her back was a crisscross of heavy welts from the hard bullwhip. She seemed exhausted. Monica quickly took her place, facing the crowd as her armbinder was removed and replaced by wide leather cuffs. Her hair was quickly laced into a ponytail with an added leather strap weaved in. As the chains pulled her taught, she could feel the strap attached to a ring on the floor and her head was yanked back. This, she assumed, would keep her face away from the bullwhip, though the position also pushed her body out toward the whip master. She could feel a headset being placed on her head, the microphone inches from her mouth. This, she knew, would broadcast any cry she might make, making it obvious to the crowd if she broke. "Ten lashes with the bullwhip," the announcer said, "in exchange for a release from debt. If she cries out, she will be sold into slavery for two months." The crowd cheered as the man with the bullwhip took his position. Monica closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steel her will as the chains that held her pulled her body taught. Without warning, the first lash fell, striping her body from her right breast down to her stomach. It was all Monica could do to clamp her mouth shut. Her body felt like it was on fire, tears springing from her eyes. She tried to struggle to get away, but the chains held her tight. The second lash fell hard across her left breast and, as she struggled not to scream, she knew her ample breasts would take the brunt of the whip. But the next stroke was across her stomach and left thigh. Monica grunted from the weight of the whip hitting her stomach and she feared she would lose for this. But apparently she was allowed this sound as the announcer simply continued to count. The fourth lash struck her side and the side of her breasts, lacing pain up her body. She was sweating profusely now, her body reacting from the brutal punishment. The crowd, seemingly afraid Monica would not break, began cheering the whip master on. The fifth lash left a welt across her stomach and Monica felt dizzy from the pain. She had lost count and was beginning to lose control. Another lash struck her breasts and another quickly followed it. She was sure they had passed ten and had chosen to torture her, the crowd laughing at her pain. As the seventh stroke struck her, glancing across her shaved pussy as it laid a diagonal stripe over her stomach, Monica's scream burst from her lungs. Her clit seemed to be bathed in fire from the tip of the bullwhip. The pain washed over her and she fainted in her bonds.

Monica awoke in a different position. As her eyes fluttered open, she thought she was in a dim room. She quickly realized she was looking through some type of dark glass. She struggled to get up and found that her arms where harshly bound behind her back. She could feel her shoulders aching from the way her elbows had been forced to meet behind her. A face leaned close. It was her debtor. "I see you are awake." He spoke loudly to be heard through her blocked ears. "Well, you lost. You are mine now. In case you are wondering, you are bound for me so you can follow me around for the rest of the evening. I certainly don't want to leave the fun, now do I?" He laughed. "Just in case you are wondering, I've dressed you in a typical slave attire for my girls. That constricting feeling around your face and head is a rubber hood covered by a tight leather hood. I took particular pains to plug your ears and provide you breathing tubes, which I'm sure you can feel in your nose. Your mouth hurts due to the blowup gag I've put in it. I wanted to pump it up even larger, but I was afraid it would break. Rather than keeping you completely blind, I put dark lenses in the hood, much like welding glass. You will be able to see a few feet in front of you, but that's all. That wide collar around your neck is padlocked on so don't think any of your friends can get to the laces easily. Otherwise you are completely naked, though I did take a moment to have your pussy shaved. Oh, and your feet are strapped into ballet shoes. I hope you learn to enjoy walking on your toes, because, for the next two months, you will be wearing them!" He chuckled as her muffled voice tried to complain. "By the way, I lied. I'm not a gentle master!" He helped her up on her toes and tugged the leash attached to her collar, leading her out into the main room.

Gina was shocked at the sight of the young slave that had evidently lost a big bet. As the handsome man led her out of the back room, she couldn't help but to admire the tall, bound form struggling forward on her ballet shoes. The hood looked to be skin tight, the straps pulled tight enough to mold to the shape of the slave's head. She could tell from the struggles, that walking on her toes was a painful endeavor. The girl took small careful steps, until her new master yanked forward on the leash, forcing her to move quickly to catch up. The long tress of hair, pony tailed and dangling out from the top of the hood, reminded Gina of Monica. She shrugged as other admirers blocked her view and she continued her search for her friends.

Tears welled up from Monica's eyes, only to be absorbed by the hood. She realized she had sold herself into slavery. Fear clenched her heart. She didn't even know this guy. What said he would let her go in two months, much less ever? She knew she was bound and at his mercy. She would have to hope she hadn't seen the last of her freedom. After what seemed like a long walk, her new master stopped her then put his mouth close to her ear. "I want to make some adjustments here," he whispered. Monica was led into a booth and pushed back into a reclining chair. Her body was quickly strapped onto to the cool metal until she was immobile. Monica tried to lift her head, but she realized it was strapped down as well. Better than on my toes, Monica thought. She could feel some fumbling around her breasts, then a cool feeling at her nipple. Without warning, a sharp pain struck her left nipple. She tried to struggle to get away but the straps held tight. Her new master's face loomed in front of her as she felt another cool feeling at her right nipple. As another sharp pain coursed through her breast, he spoke loudly into her plugged ear. "I took the liberty of bringing you to the casino piercing specialist. You see, all my slaves are pierced, you are no exception." His laugh faded as he pulled his face away from her, plunging Monica into silence again. Her nipples ached from the punctures and she could now feel the cool steel of her new rings. She was hardly surprised as the metal tool reached into her pussy and grasped her clit. The pain of this piercing out weighed the others, though. As she screamed into her blowup gag and fainted, she knew she could never imagine what further torments were in store for her.

Cindy could not believe the predicament she had gotten herself into. Not only had she failed at the competition but she owed the house $14,000. Since the debt was large enough and no costume could repay that single debt, she was kept as a slave of the house. At first Cindy tried to argue, then fight, but she was no match for the bruisers that held her. In no time, her naked form was hauled off to the display area, where her arms were swiftly tied behind her at wrist and elbow, and she was fitted with a wide steel collar. A thick chain connected from a short post behind and above her to her collar, holding her body upright on her knees. A spreader bar was fitted between her knees, forcing her to display her pussy to the public, while her ankles where bound together. A huge ball gag was forced between her teeth and strapped on. A final touch was a blindfold, its padded circles fitting perfectly over her eyes, cutting out all sight. She couldn't see the attendant approach. "Hello, Cindy," she said softly. " I assume you didn't fully read the release you signed at the door, by the way you were fighting. Let me explain. If you go in debt to the house for more than $10,000 with no way to remedy, you become a ward of the house. We have the right to sell you to the highest bidder, who will hopefully satisfy your debt for you. But of course this means you are this person's slave." Cindy was speechless, not that she could have cried out. The ball gag forced between her aching jaws caused her to accept the words she heard in silence. "We have found that most people who go into this severe a debt are hoping to be sold into slavery. I guess it's their kink," a light laugh. " So the rule is that for each $5,000, or part thereof, you are to be kept for a day in slavery. Of course, we don't enforce that." She laughed out loud as she walked away. Cindy realized she was possibly faced with a lifetime as a slave. She had no control over who purchased her or what they chose to do with her. She tried to struggle but the heavy chain held her to the ground. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began to cry, though only the subtle shake of her chest gave evidence to the public.

Despite her success while alone, Gina was starting to worry. She hadn't seen either Monica or Cindy in two hours. In all the excitement of her winnings and the damp feeling she had starting feeling between her legs, she had forgotten she was here with them. She never would have thought she would be so turned on by the many women and men in bondage or latex. Especially the women. She had always been curious, usually about Monica, but had found few other women attractive. It wasn't until she saw them in skintight rubber, collars and chains, not to mention towering heels, that she began to feel a twinge of excitement. In conversation with a young lady at a blackjack table, she began opening up to her. It was then that the concept of a dominant or mistress came up. Now she couldn't help but think about how fun it would be to dominate a woman. She found herself strangely confident in this thought, as if the mindset of being a dominatrix was where she belonged. She could feel the bulge of the nearly $50,000 in winnings in her handbag. She decided to go looking for her friends and maybe share this revelation.

Monica could feel the man tense as he came, shooting his load of cum down her throat. That completed the round of five men around the table and she dutifully crawled back to kneel beside her new master, licking the cum from her lips. The private room was limited to only those high rollers in the group. For now that consisted of six men, including her master. She wasn't the only slave in the room. Two of the men each had a slave as well, though she was quickly taught not to look around to discover more details. Instead, she stayed in position, sitting back on her crossed ankles, knees spread, wrists crossed behind her back, head bowed. It gave her time to examine the newest additions to her body. She could see the shiny new rings pierced behind her nipples and the thick rods now pierced through the middle of her nipples horizontally. Her freshly shaved pussy now displayed it's own sparkling addition. The ring through her clit was dangling lightly between her legs. Through the corner of her eye she could almost see the large ring through her septum, along with a smaller one inside of it. The hood had been removed in the piercing salon and her septum had been fitted with a rubber and metal plating, covering either side of it. A large hole cut through her tissue, leaving a largish hole where the two plates connected. Additional rivets had been driven through her septum and the plate to hold it firmly in place. Now, she had two rings running through the hole in her septum. She could feel their cold steel against her upper lip when she moved her head. Now, she could just see the larger one as it dangled away from her face. The last addition was a ring through her tongue, strangely mounted so a smooth plate was on the top of her tongue whereas the ring extended from the bottom. As she gave each of the five other players blowjobs, she realized why that was the design. It prevented her from hurting anything she sucked on while still providing a ring for a leash or other use. The men had been playing poker for a half-hour now. Though each had more money than most of the entire collection of partygoers, they chose to use more interesting bets. Her master had bet Monica and his hand had lost, thus requiring her to suck each other player off. She feared any other creative payments as she had seen one slavegirl receive a brutal lashing on her pussy in return for a lost hand. She shivered, not just from her nakedness but also from the cool feeling of her newly acquired cuffs on ankle, wrist and neck. The steel bands had been fitted carefully then riveted on. Their snug fit and seeming permanency caused her to feel more like a slave. Despite the lack of harsh bondage, Monica felt brutally humiliated and defeated. She was naked, shaved and pierced against her will, cuffed and subdued. She hoped something would happen to make this nightmare end.

With Gina's newfound attitude, she was excited to explore the more unusual games in the room. She felt great in her skin tight leather body suit. The wardrobe man had been so helpful in dressing her in something that made her feel powerful. The suit was accented by knee high leather boots, their six-inch heels making her tower over the floor. She loved the feeling of the short latex gloves and the belt that held several whips for her use. She had even chosen a catlike mask over her eyes, a wonderful touch to her dominating appearance. For the first time in her life, she found herself unzipping the front zipper, letting her breasts push out. She loved how others stared at her body and how the submissives seemed to cower as she approached. The attendant had heard the story of her success and, after a check for eavesdroppers, told Gina about a private room where she might be able to get away from the crowds. Though it sounded interesting, she was more interested in strutting her stuff for the audience. Maybe later, she thought. Now, she watched as women subjected themselves to various tortures, more often than not failing to meet their end of the bargain and losing. At one booth, she watched as a scared 19-year-old girl was strung up by her wrists, her toes coming off the ground before her ankles were pulled apart as well. Her body was beautiful and fresh, her very large breasts, long legs and long blonde hair making Gina wet inside her suit. The gamekeeper caught sight of Gina. "Mistress, would you like to administer her lashes," he asked. Gina smiled and took the bullwhip from him. "What did she do to deserve this punishment?" "I'm not sure, Mistress. I think she's a gate crasher and somebody wanted to have fun with her." Gina smiled at the thought of this helpless girl before her. She watched as the attendants finished forcing a ball gag in her mouth and strapping it in place, then approached her victim. She ran her hands across the young girl's body, pushing her latex clad hand across her ass, up her back and over her breasts. She felt down between the girl's legs, pushing her fingers inside her pussy then reached back and pushed a finger in her asshole. The girl jumped and tears began to flow. Gina pulled her finger out and began caressing the girl's breasts. As one hand continued, she reached behind the girl and grabbed a handful of her long blonde hair. Yanking it back hard she simultaneously twisted the girl's nipple hard. Even through the gag she could hear her scream. "Does this frighten you, little one." She tried to nod but the grip on her hair was too tight. "I may make you my slave after I whip you. Then you can learn to suck my asshole and lick my pussy. Would you like that?" The girl tried to shake her head but only tears were able to answer the question. Gina was flushed with excitement. She had never felt this power before and as she moved back to a good whipping angle, she nearly came as she lowered the first harsh lash across the girl's virgin back.

"Is this a new slave of ours, old boy," one of the gentlemen asked during a break. "Yes, she is," Monica's master answered. "She looks so frightened. Maybe we should use her and my slave as a little diversion until we're ready for another game." "Do as you wish with her, my friend." With that Monica was forced back on her ballet boots and led by a nose leash to a padded platform. The other girl, with long curly red hair and a soft complexion, seemed as frightened as Monica at the plans for their use as entertainment. It was obvious, though, that she had been a slave for quite some time. Pierced similarly as Monica, each hole was lined with s steel jacket, making the rings clink as she moved. The inner sleeve allowed the ring to move freely while providing exceptional strength and support. Other signs showed she had been in captivity for a long time. Subtle crisscrosses of faint scars covered her back, remnants of whippings from days past. Monica had had only one brief experience with another woman. Cindy and she had fondled each other one drunken night, though it never went much farther than that. She wasn't sure if she liked it much, preferring a man instead. But now she realized she would be forced to perform with this slave, despite her feelings on the subject. She could feel the wave of humiliation rising again and the room came crashing in on her. She felt vulnerable again, in her cold steel and nothing else, in front of these strangers. She remembered back to the start of the evening, how adventurous she had been. If only she would have known that she would end up as a humiliated slave. A small padded horse was placed in the middle of the platform and the other slave was lifted so that the small of her back rested on the pad. Heavy cables were quickly attached to her wrist and ankle cuffs and a winch was turned, removing some of the slack. Monica was then lifted and laid face down but reverse, so her wrists joined the girl's ankles. Both girls seemed to have very similar measurements, placing Monica's face between the other slave's thighs and the same in reverse. Monica could feel her hair being laced into a ponytail and the addition of a long leather strap dangling from the end. The leather was fed above her, through a pulley and back down between her legs. Careful adjustment was made so that the length held Monica's head just above the other slave's clit. Finally, the other end was connected to Monica's clit ring. She quickly realized she must hold her head up to avoid a painful yank on her clit. She assumed the same was happening to the girl beneath her from the whimpers she could hear. The cables that held their limbs wide suddenly tightened, removing any slack from their bodies until they both cried in pain from the force. Monica's head bobbed down, pulling harshly on her new clit ring and she cried out, forcing her head back up. "OK, slaves. Here's the task," the other girl¡¯s master spoke. "The first slave to bring the other to orgasm will win. The loser will spend the rest of the evening on the punishment pole." Monica had seen the dreaded device earlier. Her master had described its use fully to enhance her fear. It was a simple device. A long, adjustable pole was fitted with a large rubber dildo that increased in width closer to the base. The idea was to force the dildo up the slave's ass, then strap her ankles to a sliding ring around the base, removing any ability to support herself. The huge device would slowly force its way deeper into her anus, causing great pain. Monica had never even had anal sex, and even her doctor's examination was painful. She dreaded the thought of sitting on that pole. But she knew she would be faced with great pain to force her head down far enough to lick this slave's clit. Though her face was close, the four inches to reach would pull mercilessly on her clit. But she had little choice. The other master started the contest with a clap and she could feel the other slave already at work on her pussy. The sensation was amazing. The girl seemed well versed at using her tongue and despite the cries of pain Monica could hear from the slave, she could tell she was also well trained. Monica would have to hurry to avoid losing in moments. She could already feel a wave of warmth overtake her as her clit responded to the soft touch after the torturous piercing earlier. Monica forced he head down, screaming out loud as the pleasure was replaced by a searing pain. But she could just reach out with her tongue to taste the hairless pussy. The pull of the strap yanked the slave's clit away from her tongue, forcing her to reach farther. It was an evil game of who could pull harder on their own, as each time one pulled to reach the other, they pulled their own clit away. They could hear the voices of the men in the room as they decided that the slaves needed motivation. Without warning, a wide leather strap swung down on Monica's back, sending lances of pain through her body, her head yanked up automatically as tears burst anew from her eyes. She felt a second blow land and she nearly fainted. The lack of tension on her own clit allowed the other slave to access her entire clit, sucking on it and swirling her tongue. Monica could feel an orgasm building, replacing the pain of the lashes. She dropped her head quickly, managing to encompass the slave's clit in her mouth. The sudden touch caused the other slave to lift her head from Monica's pussy as she moaned in pleasure. Two hard straps to her back brought her face back to Monica. For ten minutes the torment continued. Both slaves had learned to accept the pain in an effort to win. A whisper across the room brought one of the men over with a new device. The cables slacked slightly and Monica's torso was lifted. A small wood board was set down beneath her breasts and she was lowered back down. Immediately Monica tried to pull off the board. "I see you like our new addition. This is a board with a series of nail like objects protruding from it. The board is double sided, just for added pleasure. Not that you should be concerned, but the nails will not pierce your skin. If you wish to lose the bet, you will be allowed to force your breasts off the nails. But the pole awaits the loser." Monica could feel another board added between the other slave's breasts and her stomach. The pain was excruciating. Despite what the masters said, it felt like the nails cut deeply into her skin. Her large breasts compressed against the sharp objects even when she held herself up. But if she were to go back to attempting to win the bet, she would have to force her breasts down hard on the nails. She was amazed when she felt the slave beneath her reach her clit again. She had been very well endowed, Monica had suspected her master had forcibly increased her breast size, and she could imagine the pain she must be feeling. Already, Monica could feel the nails on her stomach cutting deeply into her. Another wave of warmth spread over her and she knew she was close to losing the bet. With renewed effort, Monica pushed down hard on the board, pulling hard on her own clit to reach the other slaves. Tears flowed heavily as she tried not to scream in pain as she pushed her mouth over the slave's clit. Licking furiously, she learned quickly what technique might bring this other girl to the quickest orgasm. Her breasts felt like they had been pierced a hundred times and she was sure she felt blood trickling down her side. But she continued. It only took a few minutes before the other slave could not longer hold her head in place and she screamed in orgasm beneath Monica.