Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. These are snippets from the short story, The Foundry. The whole 72 page story is available for free as a pdf file at my ASSTR website as a pdf file- /~jmanque/J_Manque_The_Foundry.pdf The reason only small sections are posted as text is because I've had bad luck posting text files which are easy to cut, modify, and paste. Synopsis- A man is given the opportunity to become a porn star at one of the internet's kinkiest websites. He jumps at the chance and finds out that adult stars really do earn their money as his first role lands him in bondage under one of the world's premiere dominatrices, in California from England to avoid Big Brother's gaze after the Spanner case. She has a penchant for water sports and puts on an unbelievable 4th of July extravaganza live on the internet Snippet 1- One hallway and one turn later she led me through a door and into a long brightly lit room with at least six jail cells along one wall. These were honest to goodness jail cells like you'd see in any movie- three masonry walls, the front facing one made of bars. Each had a cot, a sink, and a toilet with no screen. At the center of the room were five free standing cages, every wall made from the same bars as the cells, but built as one unit so that they shared walls between them. Unlike the cells the cages had no amenities, and no room for them, their interiors were barely two feet by two feet, smaller than an average shower stall, giving the prisoners within just enough room to stand. And when I say the prisoners within, that was another surprise. Two of the cages were already occupied by men naked, bound, and gagged exactly like I was. Snippet 2- Samantha took us out of our cages one by one, the man closest to the door first, and stood him facing it. Next she unlocked my cage and stood me maybe two feet behind him, and lined up the last man behind me. She then hooked two double ended leashes to our collars, one from the ring in the back of the collar of the man ahead of me to the ring at the front of my collar, and another from the ring at the back of my collar to the front ring of the man's collar behind me. "Walk," Samantha ordered softly. The man ahead of me started, tugging me as the leash tightened. "Stop," she said, and her little riding crop whistled, coming down across my ass with a sharp crack that brought me to my toes and forced a muffled chirp through my gag, leaving a red mark on my ass that would last for days. Holy crap it hurt. It made the hot wax seem like a walk in the park. My head swiveled to Samantha. I thought it must have been some kind of mistake, that she didn't mean to hit me that hard. "Eyes front," she demanded, pointing with the crop and you better believe I locked them on the back of the man's head in front of me. "Keep that leash slack," she said, lifting the chain holding me to the man in front of me. "Now walk." Snippet 3- About three feet in front, and between each pair of straps, was a little chalk `X' on the floor, a red `X' for the man to my left, a blue `X' for the man to my right, and a white `X' for me. Samantha went to the man on my right. "Anus on the X," she told him. When he hesitated her little crop whistled through the air. The studio gave her the scope to swing her arm fully. It landed on his ass with a crack that reverberated through the large space, and before I knew it a second then a third blow landed making him jump and me cringe with every stroke. "Sit," she told the man quietly, and he complied like a little lamb. She helped him to kneel, sit, slide into place over the `X,' and spread his legs widely so they were near the ankle straps, but she didn't attach them. Samantha stood and came to me. "Your turn, Sweety," she said. I guess she knew she wouldn't need to persuade me with the crop. She took me by my upper arm and helped me to sit. I straightened and spread my legs immodestly like the first man, so that my ankles were near the cuffs on the truss. She knew we'd sit there until she was ready, which didn't take long. The man to my left went to his `X' as meekly as I had, and with us all seated she went down the line and secured all six of our ankles snugly so that when she was done we were all attached to the truss. She stood. She smiled. Snippet 4- The power of the winch was overwhelming. The motor hummed and our feet were snatched into the air. As our widely spread legs were lifted our bodies were drawn along the cool concrete much faster than I expected, close to a foot a second, smudging the chalk `X's' we sat on, until our legs were straight up, our hips directly below the bars. But the truss didn't stop lifting. Our pelvises were hoisted without even a shudder. Not in my wildest fantasy did I think that winch wouldn't be able to take the load; the people who set up that studio were clearly professionals, but I'd expected a hesitation, a surge in the motor, something to remind me that three grown men are substantial, not plucked chickens being readied for stuffing. There was an urge to fight the machine, to pull down, but it would have been a futile gesture; not only was it far too powerful, but there nothing to leverage against, and by the time the thought had run through my head it was clear of the concrete floor, my entire weight supported by the two thick straps wrapped tightly around my ankles. Snippet 5- Samantha pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and went to the man on my right. The live feed monitor switched to a screen filling close-up of his smooth genitals, of his hairless ass, from up high, a camera in the ceiling I hadn't even seen. Samantha spread his cheeks with two fingers exposing his anus. Her other hand came into the shot holding the greased aluminum nozzle. I watched in a combination of disbelief and fascination as she began pressing the huge tip into him, as the hard metal forced his soft flesh to open, to conform to its shape. The man sucked in several sharp breaths. He arched his back. There were a few muted yelps, but Samantha pushed the nozzle slowly, relentlessly in, like a lava flow, or a glacier advancing. It took just about a minute to complete the insertion, for the wide flat aluminum base with its attached black hose to be all that remained outside the man. Snippet 6- The strut with the three bulging bags began to ascend slowly. There were no clips on the hoses connecting the bags to the three men on the screen, nothing to prevent the contents from flowing between them. As soon as the bags were lifted higher than our rectums the liquid began to flow through the massive nozzles into our bowels. I'd never had an enema before. The feeling was strange, barely noticeable at first, just an odd sensation that something was happening that I wanted it to stop. If the nozzle's insertion had been intrusive, this was disturbing. In an instant it didn't matter how much they were paying me. I was on the verge of a panic attack. I moaned into my gag. I began rocking back and forth at the waist, causing the whole strut we were hung from to sway gently. You can download the whole story at- /~jmanque/J_Manque_The_Foundry.pdf