“Maybe this will take the focus off the pain in your penis and testicles,” Allegra said with a smile.
The dominatrix arced her arm back again and then once more flung the whip toward me. Now familiar with what was to come, I tensed myself as the leather snapped cruelly into the now reddened and raw flesh of my chest.
Allegra struck me violently three more times, and then quietly moved back to the shelves, where she thankfully returned the leather whip to its resting place. My body sagged in relief, my chest and abdomen alive and singing with pain.
“That was purely for my own enjoyment,” Allegra said flatly but with a slight smile. “I am now going to release you from your manacles, so I can remove all of your clothing and do…other things to you.”
“You fascist beast,” I said with a snarl. “You’re sick! I’ll rip you apart.”
“If you lay one hand on me,” Allegra said with a smug smile. “Five soldiers will enter this room immediately and shoot you dead where you stand. I will then order that all your compatriots — Sergeant Marushka Zetinska, Lieutenant Bogdan Berenek, and Sergeant Dimitri Antonov — experience true horror before their own deaths.”
“No,” I muttered.
“They are all being held in cells like this,” Allegra continued. “They will endure an ugly fate…all because of you. All it takes is one command from me, and their nightmares will become a reality.”
“No, you can’t,” I said through gritted teeth. “Take me…not them.”
“Submit to me, and I will not make the command,” Allegra said with a cruel smirk. “Keep your hands from my throat, and I will not throw the lovely Sergeant Marushka Zetinska to a cadre of sex-starved male soldiers who have been in the field for three months.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You can’t…”
“Submit to me, and I will not make the command,” Allegra said quietly. “Refrain from attacking me, and your handsome colleague Lieutenant Bogdan Berenek will not be released into the custody of three notoriously perverted homosexual government officials.”
“You’re sick,” I said with a sneer. “You fascist dog!”
“Submit to me, and I will not make the command,” Allegra said quietly. “Do me no harm, and your soldier-in-arms Sergeant Dimitri Antonov will not be gifted to the seventy-year-old widow and three demented spinster daughters of the late General Dragan Miroslav.”
“Oh, my god,” I muttered. “You’re evil…what is said about you is all true. You’re a monster!”
“Will you submit to me, Captain Matteo Lukovic?” Allegra asked firmly. “When I release you from your chains, will you do as I say? To prevent your colleagues from experiencing true humiliation and horror? Will you submit to me?”
“Yes,” I replied after a lengthy pause. “I will not lay my hands on you. You are safe.”
“Good,” Allegra said, and then slid the key to the manacles from her pocket. “You have at least a little sense.”
Hastily and with obvious excitement, Allegra popped the locks to the manacles around my wrists and ankles, and I then slumped instantly to my knees, my muscled arms weak and exhausted from being held up for so long. My legs ached, and my chest and groin still smarted and stung from the whip and the shock-box.
While looking at me with abject disdain, Allegra unbuttoned her military jacket, pulled it off, and then hung it on a black, metal coat rack by the door of the storage space. The beautiful dominatrix then rolled up the sleeves of her crisp, white shirt. Allegra looked down at me, her glacial eyes glittering in the half-light.
“Take off your flight suit and your under-shirt,” Allegra commanded in her bizarre accent. “Take off your combat boots and socks. You may retain your under-shorts.”
As I wondered why Allegra had chosen to allow me to keep my boxer shorts on, I slowly pulled myself up from my kneeling position. My body ached, and I was wracked by mild pain. I was a whipped, brutalised mess.
I looked Allegra in the eye and then pulled the top of the open flight suit back off my shoulders and arms, letting it hang down off my hips. The sliced-up t-shirt came off with it. I knelt down and unlaced my combat boots.
“That’s good, Captain Lukovic,” Allegra said quietly. “Take off your worthless uniform. It means nothing. Yours is a hollow resistance. You deserve to be stripped of all ceremony.”
With a snarl, I pulled off my combat boots, and then peeled off my socks. I flexed my biceps and the muscles of my battered chest and abdomen, and then slid the flight suit off over my hips and then down my muscled legs. I stepped out of it and stood before Allegra in just the white boxer shorts she’d provided me with.
The unflattering underpants were baggy and extra-long, almost covering my upper thighs right down to my knees. I could feel the top of my cock brushing against the very hem of the boxers, which barely retained my modesty. I made fists of my hands to pump my biceps even more. Allegra smiled.
“Yours is a resistance of pigs,” Allegra said mischievously. “And as its greatest hero, you are its greatest pig. In this room, I will now turn you into a pig…while all your followers watch on national broadcast television.”
As I remained still, Allegra moved over to the shelves. I watched as she pulled a pair of disposable black rubber gloves from a cardboard box, and then slid them over the fingers of each hand and down over her palms. Allegra gave me another of her now trademark wicked smiles.
The beautiful older woman picked up my discarded flight suit, torn t-shirt, and combat boots off the floor, and then placed them in a black, metal box in the corner of the room. It was where she’d dumped my clothes the last time we’d met.
Allegra then picked up a roll of plastic sheeting, and spread it across the floor in front of me. I was starting to get a little concerned. Allegra smiled at me with just a hint of warmth, possibly to reassure me that everything would be okay. The plastic obviously wasn’t there to collect my blood.
Her high heels clicking on the linoleum floor, Allegra moved to the other corner of the room, and then quickly returned with the two buckets I’d noticed earlier. She set them down in front of me, and I saw that one bucket was filled to the brim with soapy water, while the other one was three-quarters full with what looked like pink paint.
“Stand on the plastic,” Allegra commanded firmly, “like a good, little piggy.”
I obediently moved onto the plastic sheeting. Allegra submerged her rubber-gloved hands into the bucket of thick pink liquid, which I began to think may have been body paint of some description. I still had no real idea what Allegra was doing; she hadn’t detailed exactly what she intended in her typewritten scenario.
Allegra moved behind me and gently rubbed the sweet-smelling pink liquid onto my heavily muscled shoulders and back. She softly worked what I was now convinced was body paint into my smoothly waxed skin, cooing sweetly and quietly the whole time, obviously enjoying what she was doing. Though she dealt in pain and humiliation, Allegra also had quite the touch, and it felt amazing to have her hands all over my body.
Once she was done with my back and shoulders, Allegra spread more body paint over her rubber-gloved hands, and then smeared it all over the backs of my legs, working it into my calves with her strong fingers. I was getting increasingly concerned.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked. “Why are you doing this? Why are you painting me pink?”
“Why, because little piggies are pink, Captain Matteo Lukovic,” Allegra replied. “And you’re going to be my very own little piggy…so you have to be pink too, just like a little piggy.”
Allegra moved in front of me and then gently rubbed the body paint into the angry red welts that criss-crossed my chest and abdomen. As well as slowly covering my entire frame, the body paint also helped in easing the stinging pain on my battered skin. It was extraordinarily sensual and arousing, and I felt my cock engorge slightly in my baggy boxers.
After coating her hands with more body paint, Allegra bent classily at the knees and then covered the front of my legs with the cooling liquid. I again wondered what the hell the dominatrix had planned for me…what did it mean to be turned into a pig?
With a theatrical flourish, Allegra dipped her right hand into the bucket of body paint, and then smeared it all over my sweat-streaked forehead and cheeks. Apart from the skin under my baggy boxer shorts, my whole body was now covered in pink paint. Allegra’s apparent transformation of me into a pig was well and truly underway.
“Well, look at you,” Allegra said with a smirk. “You look ridiculous. Let’s complete this pathetic picture before we reveal the once great Captain Matteo Lukovic to his followers.”
Allegra moved over to the shelves, and then returned mere seconds later. She obviously knew exactly what she was looking for. In the beautiful older woman’s right hand was a pink, plastic pig’s snout on an elastic strap, while in her left hand was a pink plastic headband adorned with a pair of plastic pig’s ears. A profound sense of humiliation and embarrassment flooded through me.
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