“Hello girls, as you know, Kristen is here to visit with us after living for almost a year outside.”

The twenty girls of the Spoiled Pretty Princesses clapped enthusiastically at this, grinning at Kristen while she quietly, distantly smiled back.

Ms. Davis continued, “And she’s here to tell you about her wonderful experiences and to give you advice for when you, too, go to live outside with her!”

Ms. Davis turned to Kristen and smiled. “So I won’t keep her longer! Kristen, what do you have to share?”

The girls clapped again as Ms. Davis took her seat and Kristen walked up to the podium at the front of the small classroom. “Hey Princesses,” she said, gaining a moment’s breath before she did what she knew she had come here to do.

The girls laughed and gave the standard reply, “Hey girl!” Almost all of them knew her as she’d just left last year. They were relaxed, happy, waiting eagerly to hear her tales, as they heard from girls who had gone to live outside every few months or so.

“So I…” Kristen paused.

Ms. Davis’s lips creased a bit. She wasn’t used to one of the SPP’s being nervous in front of a crowd.

“It was pretty great, it was just like they always told us. Just like here my only job was to fuck, and the men I fucked were…”

The girls leaned in and giggled.

“Yeah, they were really hot.” Everyone laughed. “And, you know, I’m an SPP, so I was good at my job.”

The girls nodded, grinning. “I could wear whatever sexy outfits I wanted. And when I wasn’t fucking I could read or watch anything, I even got to take little trips around town, shops would give me shit…”

Ms. Davis scowled, the girls were amused.

“…stuff, for free, hoping I might fuck them. I never had to. I got to eat really good food at these places, food for a princess, you know? There are these places where they just, bring you and your client food while you entertain him. It was… it was really wonderful.” Kristen knew she was stalling.

The girls looked at each other knowingly, sharing each others joy. It sounded just like they’d always been told.

“Then one of my clients…” Kristen paused for a very long time.

Could she do this? She knew what would happen to her.

But she had to.

“One of my clients… told me… the truth…”

The girls were intent, waiting for her further revelation of even better ecstasies to be found Outside.

She could see from the side of her eye Ms. Davis’s head turning. She knew she didn’t have long.

“I was lucky. He showed me how lucky I was. Every year they do send a couple of us to the really fancy, gentle brothels so we can come back and tell you that’s what it’s like for everybody. But most SPP’s don’t get taken to nice places, most get taken to,” her voice quaked, “mean men… who like to… hurt us, or common whorehouses to be fucked by…” her face wrinkled, “poor people. They don’t give you anything you just have to fuck whenever they say, all day, no matter how ugly they are and…”

The girls looked very confused. Ms. Davis stared at Kristen but said nothing.

“And that’s not the worst. A few of us get…” her knees buckled as she said it out loud, she had to hold herself up with her arms on the podium. “Killed. Hurt and killed. Sometimes they take us straight from here and hurt us until we die, if someone paid enough money for that.”

She gazed imploringly at the girls’ faces, waiting for it to sink in. For an instant she could see reactions starting to well up on their faces, and pictured them rising up, panicking, doing whatever they could to fight and escape. And then the response came.

The girls laughed. Every single one. One of the girls in front yelled through her laughs “Kristen what the fuck?” Ms Davis snapped at this “Cordelia!”

“No I’m being serious Princesses! This is all a… they’re… it’s not….”

How to tell girls who had been treated as absolutely spoiled princess whores and had only ever heard promises of the same treatment once their training was over, what language could possibly get through to them that didn’t sound totally absurd? She knew there were words to accomplish this. But here talking to the girls, the words escaped and were nowhere to be found.

Kristen found herself, too quickly, too finally, unable to continue. She dropped helplessly, unable to sustain herself, sitting hard in the chair next to her, tears welling up.

Ms Davis stood up. “Girls, I’m sorry Kristen has decided to make this a joke, I don’t know what got into her.” She looked sternly at Kristen who began to turn a deep red. Of course they wouldn’t lay a hand on her here, in front of the other girls. As far as any Spoiled Pretty Princess knew, no one ever laid a hand on a girl ever unless she wanted them to or unless it was her job to fuck them. She knew she could never survive this, but now she saw there was not even to be a martyrdom to it, no drama. The girls were just going to… leave… laughing.

Ms. Davis had the girls line up in the standard way and go back to their rooms (after having Cordelia—the “fuck” sayer—hand over her last orgasm token for the week). Only after all the girls had left did she turn to Kristen, while one of the guardians stepped behind her and took her by the arms, lifting her from her chair.

Ms. Davis said “Do you think you’re the first to do this?”

Kristen began to cry. “I think you lied to us. To all of us.”

“Yes, obviously. We’re going to find out who told you the truth. Then we’re going to make… a lot of money off of you.”

“What does that mean?”

Ms Davis ignored her, continuing with a laugh. “You thought you were going to hurt my business but all you’ve done is doomed yourself, doomed the girls, and you’ve guaranteed I am going to make so much money.” She shook her head. “So much money, it’s obscene.”

The guardian behind her began dragging her through a door. “What do you mean doomed the girls? They didn’t even believe me? What do you mean?”

But the door shut, and she felt a prick, and the world stopped.

***

She had no strength. It was shameful how quickly she gave up the client who had told her the truth. They hadn’t even had to break, or really even stretch anything. Seeing her friends from the SPP’s simply laugh at her trying to save their lives.

In less than a day she’d given them his identity, told them everything he had shown her, the videos of girls being tortured, the news stories positively reviewing those horrible, dirty, disgusting poor people whorehouses, the excerpts from manuals explaining how to keep this secret from her when a client took her “out” on a “date.”

And here, less than a day later, she was strapped into a chair, her wrists, elbows, knees and ankles strapped down, her mouth gagged. Cameras were set up all around the walls, another, empty chair across from her. There were small cabinets, some with drawers. It felt almost like an abandoned doctor’s office, some of the accoutrements of that office still here, many having been taken away.

In front of one of her hands she could see three protrusions from the arm of the chair she was strapped to. They looked like little switches or buttons. One was red, one was blue, one was green.

No one had spoken to her. She did not know what any of this was for.

A door opened into the room. In walked a guardian, a tough middle aged woman, escorting a young girl into the room. It was one of the Spoiled Pretty Princesses, dressed in a nice little neglige. It was Elena, Kristen’s best friend before she was taken Outside. Elena walked in with a smile, and said “Princess here to serve” in the standard way before she noticed this room was very different from the usual fancy, soft, pink fucking rooms she’d always been taken to before.

As the guardian shut the door behind her Elena said “Kristen? What’s happening?” She didn’t even sound afraid, just puzzled.

The guardian said gently to Elena, “Take off your clothes, Dear.” Elena did so without thought, as she always would, and handed it to the guardian.

The guardian discarded the clothing in the corner behind the door, then guided Elena over to the empty chair. “I don’t understand,” Elena finally began to say as the guardian firmly pushed Elena down into the chair and began strapping her in.

Kristen sobbed. She didn’t know what exactly was happening to Elena but the import of Ms. Davis’s word “doom” was beginning to sink in.

“Kristen why are you crying?” said Elena, worried for her friend and maybe beginning, finally, to worry for other reasons.

At this point, all of Elena’s limbs were secured, and on a wall that both Kristen and Elena could see, a series of lights began flashing.

The lights were arranged in a grid, and every light was behind a word. At first it went too fast for Kristen to make out what any of the words were saying but after a few seconds they slowed down to a rate that allowed Kristen and Elena to begin to read what the lights were saying.

Kristen, in her gagged state, began a keening wail. Elena’s mouth gaped open. She knew some of the words but could not understand their meaning for her. She only knew they were horrible words, making her think of terrible things. “What is happening?” she asked. “What does it mean?”

Finally, the lights stopped flashing. Three words were highlighted, one in red, one in blue, one in green.

Kristen finally understood the meaning of the three switches in front of her right hand. One was red. One was blue. One was green.

Ms Davis’s voice came over the intercom. “Kristen, you must choose now.”

Kristen shook her head back and forth violently, a muffled “nnnoooooo” coming from her gagged mouth.

The guardian opened a drawer, and produced from it a whip. Nothing fancy, just an absolutely standard, functional whip, the likes of which Elena had never seen before—never even anything vaguely similar—and which Kristen herself had only seen in one of the videos her truth-telling client had shown her, asking her to stroke him while she cried.

The guardian brought the whip up into the air, facing Elena. Elena asked innocently “What is that?” before the whip came down. The guardian showed no finesse of any kind, simply brought the whip down as hard as she could on the poor girl. It hit her cheek, her chest, and her leg. Elena completely froze, unable to compute what had just happened. Then as the whip was raised again she screamed something she’d never said to a guardian before, ever. “No!” and the whip fell down again, hitting her shoulder, her chest, her tummy.

Elena cried in agony and complete incomprehension while Kristen screamed through her gag in a rage.

The guardian then turned around and aimed the whip at Kristen. Kristen could see the guardian, whom she recognized, and had always seen as a caregiver, if somewhat distant, if somewhat gruff—nevertheless, a caregiver, there to help her along as she trained and served. The guardian, as she lifted the whip, was smiling.

Just as she brought it down on Kristen, heedlessly hitting Kristen wherever the whip happened to land—her eye, her chin, her inner thigh—Ms Davis’s voice simultaneously barked, “Choose, Kristen.”

Kristen found it in her to yell once more, “I won’t!” before the whip came down again, tearing skin from her clavicle, her nipple, the top of her labia. The two girls were feverishly incoherently screaming together, and they had only been hit two times.

“You will both be tortured until you choose,” was all Ms Davis said, and the guardian continued, hitting first Elena, then Kristen, then Elena again and so on.

Between blows Elena begged “Please, Kristen, just do it, I don’t understand just do it!”

Kristen gazed, sick, fearing the next blow, at the blue, red and green switches in front of her. On the wall, the lights had landed on three corresponding words:

In red: “Gibbetted”

In blue: “Crushed”

In green: “Beheaded”

Another blow landed, hitting her back as she had leaned forward trying stupidly to avoid it.

She jerked back in pain and cried through her gag again “I cnn’t! I cnn’t ms dvvss I cnn’t!”

Elena was already shrieking before the guardian had even turned around to hit her. “Kristen choose! Make her stop! Choose you fucking…”

The whip came down.

“You fucking biihihihitch what are you doing?”

Kristen looked at Elena in the eyes while they both cried. She tried to communicate a sad, hugging goodbye through her eyes alone. She knew there was no escape. She knew Elena would never understand. She knew what she had to do. And still, she realized as the guardian began to swing down on her once again, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.”

She moved her finger just enough so that the spasm of pain as the whip hit her yet again made her finger twitch down. She had chosen. She didn’t know what “gibbetted” meant. She couldn’t bear to think of Elena “crushed.” She knew her choice would lead to a horrific site but she comforted herself that for Elena it would go quickly and be finished. Her finger hit the green button, “beheading,” at the very moment the whip landed across her body for a final blow.

The word “Beheading” lit up brighter while the other two lights switched off.

The guardian grinned down at Kristen’s crying, pleading face. “Nice choice” she whispered, as she put the whip away.

And then she brought out a saw, a handle on each end, and a second guardian entered, this one younger, wiry, a matter of fact aura around her.

This wasn’t going to be quick. This wasn’t going to be quick at all.

Even now, Elena didn’t realize what was to happen until it had begun happening. The cameras watched along with Kristen as the two guardians, with great effort and clear satisfaction, took Elena’s head off. Elena’s screams of shock, then pain and shock, then absolute panic unable to even think of pain, didn’t last long before turning into gurgles and finally into nothing.

***

When Kristen came to, it was clear she’d been anaesthetized, her body cleaned up, the room scrubbed. She still had whip marks on her body but aside from that all was as before. Kristen wept. Ms Davis’s voice came into the room, “You did this Kristen,” to which Kristen replied with a muffled “I knnw, ‘m srry”

Ms Davis chuckled, “Don’t be. The streaming fees we’re making off of this will fund an entire new crop of Spoiled Pretty Princesses easily and the rest is pure profit.

Kristen let those words sink in. An entire new crop.

That’s when the door opened, and the younger, more wirey guardian from before came in with another Spoiled Pretty Princess in tow. This time it was Hannah, a new girl Kristen had never met. She was smiling, wearing a little schoolgirl outfit, and said “Princess ready to serve Daddy!” before noticing the Kristen and the empty chair and the very much not nice looking nature of the room she’d just been escorted into.

“Off with your clothes dear” said the guardian, and Hanna complied happily while still seeming a little confused, and willingly sat. “Kristen?” she said, her eyes wide and innocent. “What is happening?”

Hannah ended up being a little faster on the ball than Elena. As before, the girls were both tormented while Ms Davis barked at Kristen to choose. This time the torment came in the form of a cattle prod applied more and more intensely to more and more sensitive parts of their bodies. After the first several rounds of this Kristen was trying to gather her courage and do what she knew had to be done to end her friend’s agony.

Hannah asked in a panic as the guardian was approaching to shock her yet again, “Kristen you were telling the truth??”

Kristen desperately nodded. Ms Davis spoke to this as well. “So what do you think of that Hannah?

The guardian paused now, not yet applying electricity to Hanna’s nipple. “You sell us off to be… hurt… like this?”

Ms Davis simply answered, “That’s right. That’s what Kristen was telling you, and she was telling you the truth.”

“But why are you hurting me now?” Hannah cried. “Are you punishing me?”

“Yes,” said Ms Davis, “We are punishing you.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t believe her! I didn’t believe you!” this last was directed at Kristen.

“Oh we know, dear. None of you believed her. It was stupid for her to think you would. But you all heard, and that is enough. The seed was planted. You are no longer any good to us. We are punishing you for what Kristen did.”

Hannah now cried directly at Kristen. “Why did you tell? Why did you tell you fucking idiot?”

And the electricity landed. Hannah’s weeping was now not only at the agony she was experiencing but mourning at the realization she could have had so much more time, years, before going Outside and even then, she had a great chance not to be treated like this. “Oh my god,” she said, staring angrily at Kristen as the cattle prod touched her tit, “Oh my god you foolish bitch. You complete cunt.”

Kristen cried, “’mmm srrryyyy” as the prod touched Hanna’s labia.

The three choices for Hannah were

Red: Drowning

Blue: Beating

Green: Staking

Before the prod could reach Kristen’s own vagina she made her choice, extending her finger, leaving one light on, the other two extinguished.

Hannah looked up, saw the word that was left, and asked in terror “Are you going to drown Kristen?” The guardian laughed at this.

A third guardian, this one who Kristen always had thought of as fat and jolly, came in with a glass bowl-like contraption with a large hole in the bottom and two eyelets, one on each side, directly across from each other. The guardians placed it, right side up, over Hannah’s head, and pushed it down. Her head was now encased in a bowl, the plastic lining the hole around her neck didn’t form much of a seal but that problem was to be solved in a moment.

The eyes in the sides of the bowl were secured in place using rope, meaning Hannah could not move her head much. Air was pumped into the plastic around her neck making it impossible for her to wiggle enough to let anything slip through. They turned on the sinks, grabbed jugs, and began pouring water into Hanna’s bowl, filling it up while she struggled and coughed.

Finally she could do nothing but hold her breath for as long as possible. After a minute her whole body was quaking. After two minutes she quickly expelled all of her air, and she was done for, hopelessly struggling as she breathed pure water into her lungs, her eyes casting about wildly. And a moment later, she went limp, her eyes remaining open as her final oxygen was used up.

Kristen didn’t black out this time while she wept, and there was no need for them to clean her up so she was left awake to watch Hannah’s body carried—dragged unceremoniously—out of the room and the watery mess left behind was mopped up.

***

There were twenty girls in the Spoiled Pretty Princess cadre. It would be tedious to describe what Kristen saw happen to each and every one of them in turn. She watched twenty girls tortured and killed horrifically, most of them her friends, all of them fellow gentle, innocent young whores who she had given her own life trying to save them.

The next girl she had to choose for was Summer. She had come in smiling wearing her sexiest bra and panties. After she and Kristen were burned several times in the worst place with a curling iron Kristen finally chose from the list of three options. Frying, beating, and gibbetting. Neither Kristen nor Summer had any idea what Gibbetting was but Kristen in despair could only hope it may be less horrific than being fried?! Or beaten to death.

And so Summer was placed inside a cage in which she had room only to stand, no room even to bend her legs or her elbows. And that cage was rolled into Ms Davis’s office. Placed behind glass, hung in this cage, Summer was to spend the few days remaining to receiving no food or drink, surrounded by screens showing two kinds of images: of the best moments of her own life—the best fucks, the most fun times she had with her sisters in the Spoiled Pretty Princess cadre, and the deaths of those very friends as they happened.  

After Summer was wheeled out Kristen chose strangling for her next friend, then the next girl she doomed to be stabbed to death while restrained to the chair. A girl was suffocated with a plastic bag, another was, not stabbed, but repeatedly sliced, with knives until she bled out.

When a girl’s limbs were sawed off one by one in front of her, Kristen didn’t understand how things could get any worse. Then came poor Abigail.

When they had served as Spoiled Pretty Princesses together, Kristen had snuck into Abigail’s bed regularly to make love to her. Abigail had never asked for her to do so, but she didn’t put up much of a fuss. All this was against the rules, as the girls’ orgasms were supposed to be rationed, but the worst that would ever happen to them was enforced edging.

Take that in—prior to today, the worst punishment any of these girls had ever experienced was to be pleasured for an extended period of time without being allowed to orgasm.

Abigail was a beautiful, lovely girl. The risk of such “punishment” had been worth it. She had been happy to risk getting herself and Abigail punished before—and now was getting them both tortured to death.

Kristen had stopped delaying her choice several girls ago. The guardians and Ms Davis took this in stride, now simply torturing the girls at will until they felt ready to kill their victim. And so Kristen and Abigail both got several needles to their fingernail beds before Kristen’s choice was put into action. This time she had to choose between “roasting,” “staking” and “beating.” Not knowing what “staking” meant Kristen wept when she finally chose beating, feeling being beaten to death would be less horrific than being roasted alive.

Abigail was immediately released, completely incomprehending of what was happening. She was taken out of the room by the guardian who had brought her in, and then Kristen watched her fate on video. Abigail was taken to another room, in which there were several men. They had paid to be here. Many of them had been clients previously. Abigail recognized them. She had thought of them as kind men, happy to give her their semen. “Mr. Hawthorne?” she asked. “Are we, is this a fuck room?” She almost sounded relieved, even though it definitely didn’t look like one. No beds, nothing nice at all. Just a bunch of men and a few chairs.

Mr. Hawthorne and the other men laughed. “Of sorts,” he said, approaching her, and without hesitation, he balled up his hand into a fist and hit her square in the jaw.

The men held her down and beat her, meanwhile also taking turns raping her. The thing was, she had only been in the SPP for a short time, and so was still a virgin, having been trained only in how to pleasure a person with her mouth by this point. The men were aware of this, or at least, aware they’d never been allowed to fuck her pussy or ass before, so they took particular pleasure in her pain and confusion as they breached her lower holes.

While one man would rape her, others would grab her face and punch it mercilessly, or kick her in the side, or slap her gut hard.

Once they’d all had their fill of filling her up, they proceeded to hold her up against the wall and punch her in the stomach as hard as they could. She begged for them to stop continuously, so eventually they let her drop to the ground and began kicking her mercilessly in the face, gut and back with their steel toed boots. Once she stopped they stomped on her just to be sure, laughing at each other’s viciousness.

That was what happened to poor Abigail.

Another of Kristen’s friends was killed by another paying volunteer. Kristen had chosen “gagging,” and the guardian simply put a ring gag on the girl’s face, and brought a man in to jam his dick into her throat. She could not get away from him, being strapped to the chair. He simply fucked her face until she died.

***

Kristen didn’t witness any more of the killings in person. One by one the nine remaining girls were brought in, confused, and she chose a fate for them. The girl would then be immediately taken away and the next brought in.

After all nine fates had been chosen, Kristen suffered her own fate. Two guardians brought her to a room she’d never been to before, filled with beds and lockers. There were guardians scattered here and there in the room, all of them looking at her hungrily. She was brought to the center of the room and dropped on the floor next to a grate.

A guardian opened the grate, and pulled up on a chain hooked to the wall of the chamber that had been revealed.

Kristen recognized the girl who was pulled up in this way. She could not remember her name. But despite the numerous bruises and cuts, all the swelling and disfigurement the girl had undergone, she knew she had seen this girl before, when she had been a Spoiled Pretty Princess. In Kristen’s own final year before going Outside this was one of the girls who gone on before her. They had had a little party for her and handed her joyfully off to her escort to be taken to whatever ecstatic assignment awaited her.

Which turned out to be, living in a literal hole in the floor in the Guardians’ dormitory.

The girl was conscious, barely, as she was dragged out. She watched with eyes barely open, laying on the floor, as a leather belt with cuffs on either side was removed from her waist and wrists. They then rolled it around Kristen’s waist, and sealed her wrists into the cuffs, such that she could not move her hands away from her hips. The girl continued to watch, and began sobbing, as the chain was attached to the back of Kristen’s new belt. A gag went over Kristen’s mouth, and the guardians shoved her roughly into the hole to take the girl’s place. Then the grate was shut over her head, leaving her in near total darkness.

She had no room to move. It was almost as tight as the girl who had been left hanging in the cage in Ms. Davis’s room. She could only stand, listen and cry as she heard the poor girl above’s final hour or two of life being raped and beaten by the guardians. The last thing she heard was the poor girl’s shrieks as the guardians took turns biting her, seeing who could make her yell the loudest. The winner got the privilege of strangling the poor girl to death, and was allowed (Kristen heard them say) to sleep with the corpse overnight.

She had no idea how much time passed before the screens came on in her little hole, showing her the fate of the nine girls she had chosen for prior to being brought here.

It was like a camp. Some men and women she recognized, many she didn’t, had paid to gather together to send these nine girls to their end. One by one they treated the girls to exactly the fates chosen by Kristen. While each girl suffered her fate the others, weeping tears of helpless confusion and terror, were passed around to get fucked at will.

They tied a girl to stakes in the ground (“ahah,” Kristen thought incongruously, “staking”) and covered her with insect attractant, leaving her there to punctuate the night with her screams and cries. Another girl was tied to a cross and left similarly. As these two girls panted and protested, the men and women  crushed another under a board and many heavy rocks. They then tied another girl and simply buried her alive under gravel.

Kristen saw the final four girls get cooked, so to speak. One was roasted alive inside a giant metal container, one boiled alive (only her head above water), and one literally fried in a giant frying pan with a grate preventing her from sitting up. The final  girl begged to be released after her final fucking, but of course that was not to be. They strapped her to a bedframe over a fire and burned alive over a low flame, roasting marshmallows and singing camp songs while she desperately screamed.

And that was the end of that cadre of Spoiled Pretty Princesses. Such wholesale slaughters of an entire cadre were not a common occurrence but just as Ms. Davis had said, the only effect was to make her even more ridiculously rich than she had already been.

A new cadre was brought in by the usual methods. But Kristen never saw one in person, only was shown the new cadre on her little screen in her little hole. Ms Davis just wanted to make sure Kristen knew how useless her gesture had truly been!

She spent her final year living in that oubliette in the ground, the hole just large enough for her to stand in. The guardians gave her just enough food and drink to keep her alive, and whenever they had a break from their work helping guide the new group of Spoiled Pretty Princesses, they would drag her out of her hole and take turns fucking her, hitting her, burning her, cutting her, and whatever else came to their fairly simple minds. When one of the new crop of Spoiled Pretty Princess was finally brought in unwittingly to replace Kristen, Kristen was genuinely relieved to finally be pulled out and given her final round of beatings, bites, clawings and rapings, and her final strangulation by the guardian she’d two years ago thought of as a grandmotherly figure. As that guardian laughed, Kristen also, her windpipe being inexorably crushed, managed a happy little chuckle of her own.