Captives of Cheyner Close (13 page)

With a wondering glassy look in her eyes, as though she could not quite believe what she was doing, Gail embraced the dummy and deliberately pressed her boobs into its chest, digging the spiked bells into her own flesh. They heard her whimper then sigh. She began to undulate her hips in time with the music while brushing her breasts from side to side across Fred’s torso, using pain and pleasure to work herself into a state of helpless ecstasy.

Tara was impressed, never having suspected the girl had it in her. Daniela and Hazel’s jaws were hanging open in horrified yet admiring fascination. Cassie looked disgusted while Sian was tight-lipped and intense.

Gail came with a series of yelps and gasps, then slumped onto her back to a round of applause, streaks of sweat smeared across her reddened and heaving breasts. Narinda wiped them clean with a damp tissue, checked she had in fact suffered no more than pinpricks, and helped her back to her place.

Gail was awarded 27 points. Tara bit her lip. At the moment she was still last.

Sian went next, a determined expression on her face. Tara recalled that Sian had been quite serious about ballet until a few years ago, and she used everything she had learned in her routine.

The muscles stood out on her slender body as she sprang and twirled gracefully on her toes, nipple-bells swinging freely from the jiggling apples of her breasts. She did a splits before Fred the dummy, exposing her cleft bush and giving her labial bell a teasing flick. Sian’s dance ended with her copulating elegantly while standing on one leg with the other crooked round Fred’s waist, her small round buttocks clenching as she jerked her hips.

Her score of 24 brought a brief but genuine smile to her flushed face, even as it made Tara frown.

Hazel put her hand up before a hesitant Cassie. She was not a very rhythmic dancer, but she made up for it by a display of sheer wanton abandon, writhing about the floor heedless of the pricks from her bells. She finished by mounting Fred and wrapping both legs round his waist, her pale chubby bottom trembling as she gleefully rode his rubber dildo. Raj Khan had to hold the dummy steady to prevent it falling over.

She got 26 points.

Now only Cassie was left. As she rose she looked both nervous and disdainful. She danced half-heartedly, wincing as the bells pricked her, and needed a flick from Narinda’s cane to impale herself on Fred’s now glistening and well lubricated rubber phallus. Even as Tara’s hopes rose she felt Cassie was being stupid. She must have realised by now that it was easier to accept their situation and make the best of it, or else refuse to perform and take the consequences. But she was letting her pride get in the way of common sense. Tara thought she did eventually have a genuine orgasm, after much effort, but her performance was too grudging to be very entertaining.

Cassie got just 19 points. Tara breathed a sigh of relief.

‘You should have tried harder,’ Narinda told Cassie.

Fanning and Warwick bent Cassie over double and backed her onto the dummy’s dildo. Rachel prised apart Cassie’s unwilling buttocks to expose her anus and they forced the rubber shaft into her tight rear passage, bringing forth a dismayed groan. Then they pulled her arms behind the dummy’s back and tied her wrists together so she could not pull herself free. Spreading her legs they tied her ankles to the outsides
of
the dummy’s ankles. A final length of rope was looped about her neck and the ends drawn over the dummy’s back and tied to her wrists, pulling her head back so that it rested on Fred’s shoulder and making it look as though she was locked in some strange embrace with her plastic lover. Her taut breasts rose and fell tremulously while the pressure of the sodomising phallus forced her hips blatantly forward. The anger in her eyes was beginning to turn to alarm.

Narinda swished her long holly cane through the air in front of Cassie. ‘Now, I’m going to give you six strokes,’ she said. ‘And after each you will say loudly: “I must try harder to please you.” If you don’t it won’t count and I’ll do it again.’

She drew back her arm and slashed the cane across Cassie’s midriff, making her yelp and leaving a ragged line of red pinpricks in her skin. Narinda looked questioningly at Cassie who gasped wretchedly: ‘I – must try harder to please you …’

By the sixth stroke Cassie’s breasts, stomach and thighs were crisscrossed by swathes of reddened pinpricked flesh and she was sobbing ‘I must try harder to please you … I must try harder …’ over and over again.

Their captors left Cassie impaled and bound while they laid out the girls’ food bowls in a semi-circle about her. While they had a proper meal Cassie was fed on bread and water. They all sneaked curious glances up at her as they ate, conscious that she had been left there as both a punishment and a warning.

That afternoon they were harnessed in pairs to a garden roller and made to pull it up and down Gerald Spooner’s lawn. It was not a contest, merely hard sweaty work. When they were done Warwick turned the garden hose on them and they squealed like
children
as its cold spray washed over them. By the time they were returned to their stock-beds to rest before the coming night’s exertions, they were so tired that the imprisoning frames and meagre bedding almost seemed comfortable.

The residents locked the door behind them and for the first time that day the girls were free to talk together. For a minute there was an awkward silence, then Hazel asked Daniela:

‘Where did you learn to dance like that? You looked really hot.’

‘I did study dance for a few years,’ Daniela admitted. ‘Just for fun we did some belly dancing.’

‘Is that where you learned to spin your tassels like old-fashioned strippers?’ Gail wondered.

Daniela giggled. ‘Me and a few other girls in my class had a go at that secretly. I never guessed I’d ever do it for real. Did I really look sexy?’

‘I bet you even had old Spooner creaming his pants,’ Hazel said.

‘Well, I thought I just had to forget being embarrassed and do my best. It was – fun, in a weird sort of way. Oh … does that sound sick?’

Hazel sniggered. ‘Like this whole thing is not sick already?’

‘Well, what about you?’ Gail said. ‘You went at it like a sex-starved bunny!’

‘I was only doing what Daniela did,’ Hazel said defensively. ‘I thought: shit, why not go all the way? I’ve nothing left to hide. They want a show, I’ll give ’em a show. Anyway, what about what you did to your tits with those nipple-bells? That really was pervy! Didn’t it hurt?’

‘I didn’t think about it really,’ Gail replied, sounding curiously uncertain. ‘Narinda said the more excited we got the better, and it was true in an odd
way.
I thought if I was a real slave trying hard to please her master, I’d show I was ready to suffer for him. Everybody looks at my boobs so I used them. It hurt at first, but once I got that rubber cock inside me it seemed to make the pleasure stronger.’

‘Did you both really come?’ Daniela asked hesitantly. ‘I wondered if it was only me.’

‘Of course I did,’ Hazel said. ‘That’s what made it fun.’

‘I did too,’ Gail admitted. ‘In the end I couldn’t help it. I didn’t have to pretend.’

Listening to their chatter Tara was both amazed and disconcerted by the adaptability of human nature. What had happened to the three trembling, terrified figures she had seen bent over the Cheyner Close sign and caned not two days ago? Did last night’s one-to-one sessions with the residents have anything to do with it? For that matter, had she been changed by her experience at Warwick’s hands?

‘Did you come too, Sian?’ Daniela asked. ‘You danced so beautifully and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.’

‘It was all just an act, right?’ Sian said quickly.

‘But it was a great dance,’ Gail added.

‘All right, so I put on a good show,’ Sian replied, sounding embarrassed.

‘You did come,’ Hazel insisted. ‘I saw your face.’

‘All right, so I came,’ Sian snapped. ‘That was the idea, wasn’t it? That was how we we’re meant to get through this. Anything wrong with that?’

‘Nothing,’ Daniela said gently. ‘We just wanted to know if you enjoyed yourself.’ She added quickly: ‘What I mean is, getting yourself worked up while you were dancing and then hearing that applause when you finished, not everything else.’

Sian sighed. ‘I suppose, just for a few seconds, that did feel good,’ she admitted grudgingly.

Tara realised none of them felt they needed to compliment her performance. Coming second to last was nothing special, of course, but it showed how her power over them had melted away.

‘Isn’t anybody going to say anything to me?’ Cassie said suddenly. ‘Are you going to ask me if I enjoyed screwing up my dance and getting caned and buggered by a fucking window dummy?’

There was an awkward silence. After a moment Sian said: ‘Sorry, Cassie. I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.’

‘Well, just so you all know, it hurt,’ Cassie said miserably. ‘Gail’d probably get off on having her tits beaten with holly while she had a rubber dildo stuck up her backside, but I didn’t.’

‘I think,’ Gail said slowly, ‘that if they did that to me, I would try to get as much pleasure out of it as I could. Maybe I’d beg one of them to use my front passage at the same time.’

‘You’d beg for that?’ Cassie said, aghast.

‘Why not? It might stop them from doing something worse. And maybe, with my bottom plugged, it would feel special.’

‘You’re sick, all of you!’ Cassie exclaimed.

Tara could not stay silent any longer. ‘Cassie, stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourself! We’re all in the same situation. Gail’s right. We get whatever pleasure we can in any way we can. If you’d worked at enjoying your dance more, it would’ve been me on that dummy instead of you.’

There came a long sigh from Cassie, then she said in a small voice: ‘You’re right. I will try harder.’ Then she added: ‘But I still hate you, Tara.’

Cassie’s resolve was soon tested. According to Warwick’s rota Hilary Beck and Rachel Villiers had the
use
of her that night. Tara saw the look in Cassie’s eyes and her teeth clamped tight on her ball-gag as the two women tied the blindfold round her head.

When the blindfold was next removed, Cassie found herself looking up into the smiling faces of Rachel and Hilary. She was bound spreadeagled to the gleaming brass frame of a double bed by leather cuffs and chains. The deep soft purple sheets and pillow under her carried a lingering trace of perfume, mingled with the more intimate scent of female bodies.

‘She doesn’t look happy,’ Hilary observed.

‘Maybe because she knows she’s about to get ravished by two filthy dykes,’ Rachel said. ‘That’s what you called us in one of those anonymous letters you sent to half of Styenfold.’

‘I think I was a “bull-dyke”,’ Hilary added. ‘No young girl was safe when I was around …’ her face darkened. ‘What do you think that felt like? Why do you hate us so much?’

Cassie was moaning and chewing on her gag.

‘You want to say something?’ Hilary pulled the rubber ball from Cassie’s mouth.

‘It was all Tara’s doing,’ Cassie babbled desperately. ‘She said both of you deserved it and we believed her – ahh!’

Rachel had slashed her holly cane across the underside of Cassie’s firm upstanding breasts. ‘You will speak to us respectfully,’ she warned. ‘You’ve never shown us any in the past but while you’re in our house you’ll bloody-well behave properly, understand?’

Cassie spluttered: ‘Yes, Mistress … sorry, Mistress.’

‘So, Tara said we were wicked lesbians and you didn’t think to disagree with her at all?’ Hilary
continued.
‘We complained to the police because of Tara and her boyfriend driving round the Close like nutters in the middle of the night. So did the rest of the residents. Anybody would have done that.’ She tapped her chest. ‘What harm did we do you personally? Or was that just an excuse? Be honest!’

Cassie licked her lips, then said hesitantly: ‘I don’t like – your type, Mistress.’

‘And what other “types” don’t you like besides us lezzy queers? What about the Khans? Or Jews or blacks?’

Shocked at the insinuation Cassie exclaimed: ‘I’m not racist, Mistress –’

‘Just homophobic.’

‘I feel – uncomfortable – near people like you, Mistress.’ It was the best way she could express her feeling. Was that why it had been so easy to join in Tara’s revenge in the Close?

Rachel smiled mischievously. ‘You know what they say. People who are strongly anti-gay are often secretly gay themselves.’ She beamed at Hilary. ‘Shall we give it a test?’

‘Let’s.’

Smiling at Cassie, they each began a mocking striptease, blowing her kisses and licking their lips suggestively as they shed their garments. Soon they stood naked, one on each side of the bed, taunting her with their bare bodies. It was impossible not to look at them.

Hilary must have been in her early thirties. Her skin was clear and tinted with a light golden tan. A mass of fluffy blonde hair framed a firm-jawed face set with serious brown eyes and, in Cassie’s opinion, a slightly overlarge nose. Her hips were a little fleshy but compensated for by heavy double-‘D’ cup breasts. A fluffy triangle of dyed-blonde pubic hair
sprouted
from between her thighs. As Cassie’s gaze fell upon her pubes Hilary ran a finger sensuously through her slit, then turned round and wiggled her bottom suggestively at Cassie. Her buttocks were deeply cleft, smooth and full-cheeked.

Rachel was slimmer, perhaps a year or two younger than her lover, and, Cassie had to concede, very pretty. Curling brunette hair tumbled over her shoulders, matching the thick bush between her thighs. Her face was well proportioned and friendly, her blue eyes set under neat brows. Mature but still shapely breasts capped by distinct brown nipples rose from her slender chest, accentuated by a narrow waist, smoothly curving but not overfull hips and shapely legs. Like Hilary she gave Cassie a twirl. Her bottom was neatly rounded and, like the rest of her, warmly tanned.

‘So, are we as hideous as you expected?’

Cassie swallowed hard, fearing what was to come. ‘No, Mistress … but I still don’t want to – to make love …’ She felt her resolve draining away with her pride. By just standing there naked before her they were breaking her down. ‘Please don’t make me do this,’ she begged.