Captives of Cheyner Close (20 page)

The music stopped.

For a second they froze, then made a rush for the chairs. Tara was caught round the back of the loop with Cassie just in front of her. Hazel, Daniela and Sian were already finding their seats, accompanied by yelps and gasps as they sat. Tara and Cassie both darted forward to reach the corner chair where Gail, who had been better placed than they, was about to sit herself. Cassie wildly barged Gail aside, knocking her to the ground, and then poised her own bottom over the chair. She must be extra desperate, Tara thought, as she had already had her tits holly-caned while impaled on Fred the dummy and presumably didn’t want a repeat.

This left one empty chair next to the end one. Gail was struggling to her feet between Tara and it, blocking her way. She could not get round to it in time.

But Cassie was not sitting down. Her bare bottom was trembling just above the holly-decorated seat, a fearful look on her face. She was too frightened to sit. Feeling sudden contempt, Tara slammed her shoulder into Cassie, sending her sprawling, turned round, gritted her teeth and sat herself down firmly.

Dozens of spines like little needles, driven by her full weight, stabbed into her buttocks, making her choke with surprise. But at least she had the courage to face the pain. Before Cassie could recover, Gail was on her feet and took the free chair beside Tara, sitting down on it with a squeak.

Tara instinctively wanted to squirm about, but she had already deduced what the other girls in the line were just discovering, to the accompaniment of many moans and gasps, that moving would only make the spines dig in deeper. So she sat rigidly still, her suffering alleviated only by the sight of Cassie glaring
at
her furiously as Warwick strode forward to take her by the arm.

Cassie made a pretty sight dangling from her spread ankles. They put her gag back in her mouth and then tied the rope from a ground peg to her hair, so she could not twist about and would remain facing her audience. Then they took six ice cubes from the Thermos flask and stuffed them into her cleft one by one. Cassie gasped and gurgled as they were inserted, her eyes bulging in horror as the chill began to radiate from her vagina. She gave another yelp as Warwick thoughtfully used a small bulldog clip to pinch her inner labia together to prevent her expelling the cubes.

Gerald Spooner had the honour of delivering the first holly-caning of the game, as Cassie was dangling at a convenient height. He used a backhand swing, and for an old man he had a good eye for a target. Cassie’s firm breasts shivered under the swishing blows, her nipples growing perversely hard as the pale taut hemispheres blushed with pricks and scratches.

After the last stroke fell, leaving Cassie dangling shivering and red-eyed before them, Tara made a decision. She’d tried the chairs and seen Cassie punished and knew she’d prefer the ice cubes and the tit-lashing to grinding holly leaves into her bum again. The pain of rising for the next round and feeling the spines pulling out of her flesh convinced her. She would not be the first out of the game now, so her pride was saved, but she didn’t want it to look like she was simply giving in.

And so, the next time the music stopped, Tara convincingly tripped over the ground rope as she dashed for the chairs and failed to get a seat. She was suspended beside Cassie, who twisted round to stare at her. Both their heads now being the same way up she could read the satisfaction in her face.

Having the ice stuffed into her was a surprising sensation, actually perversely exciting until the cold began to bite. The nip of the bulldog clip contrasted sharply with the dull chill it sealed within her. Her big breasts, hanging inverted and bobbing proudly free of her ribcage, made fine targets, of which Raj Khan made full use. She yelped and jerked against the rope that bound her hair to the ground, but that did not stop her bouncing globes being thoroughly scoured by the bristling cane. The painful highpoints came when her full hard nipples (she seemed unable to prevent them self-erecting any more) received a couple of blows full on, the spines tearing into her tender flesh. The resulting convulsions of her stomach forced meltwater out past the bulldog clip and to trick through her pubic hair. Just let it reach her burning tits and cool them down, she thought desperately.

But finally it was over, and all she had to endure then was the heavy sense of her head being bloated with blood and the cold of her ice-stuffed pussy. Through misty eyes she watched Gail, Hazel and Daniela suspended beside her in turn. It was strange to see them writhe in their bonds the right way up from her point of view, their breasts bulging upwards and outwards in apparent defiance of gravity, bouncing under their allotted cane strokes. There was something disturbingly exciting about the way the three of them suffered; seemingly unresentful that they were giving pleasure to their audience.

Sian won the game fairly enough as she was the most agile. She almost looked smug as she was hung up beside the others to receive her token punishment, though her small tight buttocks were a mass of red blotches and pinpricks.

They were being made to pay dear for all they had done to the residents of Cheyner Close. But at least their ordeal only had two days left to run.

Louisa Jessop was prettier naked than Daniela had imagined. Perhaps it was because she seemed to be enjoying herself so much.

Though her blonde curls might be artificial her bright blue eyes shone and her smile was warm and genuine. Her big breasts, capped by large pink nipples, bobbed and swayed cheerfully as she moved. Her waist was still trim, her hips full and her skin clear.

It was also evident, as she and Stan handled Daniela with a confidence no doubt born of recent practice, that they were very much in love. Stan Jessop had receding hair but his body was still trim and his erection of impressive proportions. Its prominence might have been due to his affection for his wife or a tribute to Daniela’s beauty, or both. It didn’t really matter, as Daniela was sure where it would end up.

Though nervous, Daniela did not feel frightened of the Jessops. Yes, they wanted to have their revenge on her for being part of Tara’s gang, but they were not cruel. None of the residents she had served these last few nights had been cruel. Roberta Pemberton’s advice had been sound. She had apologised for what she had done and accepted without complaint whatever humiliation or punishment they had meted out.

After all, it was only fair and proper. It was what she had agreed to … and it was also very exciting.

The Jessops had washed her inside and out, and now they had her in their bedroom, still cuffed and gagged. She felt like a toy as they discussed, stroked and fondled the best features of her body. Daniela
knew
they were playing with her and she was happy to be part of their game.

They decided how they wanted to use her first.

Laying her down on her back and reversed on their bed, they put a pillow under her head, then raised and spread her legs and tied her ankles to the corners of the headboard. Stan Jessop knelt over Daniela with a holly cane in his hand, and removed her gag.

‘Now, girl, do you need a taste of this, or will you do as you’re told?’ he asked.

Daniela felt strangely calm as she responded, not because she was beyond feelings of anxiety, but because she was now certain of her feelings in a way she had not been just a few days earlier. ‘You can cane me if you want, Master, if it gives you and the Mistress pleasure. But I’ll try to please you both anyway.’

Louisa laughed, pinching the hard swollen cones of Daniela’s nipples. Daniela closed her eyes and sighed blissfully at the gentle torment.

‘Look how excited she is, Stan. I don’t think this one’s going to need any encouragement. She’s going to enjoy this as much as we are.’

Louisa bent and kissed Daniela, then turned herself round so that she faced the bedhead, straddling Daniela’s torso. Daniela found herself looking up into Louisa’s thick dark pubic delta, with its long pink wet gash peeping out from its depths.

‘You get Louisa nice and hot and ready, like a good girl,’ Stan commanded.

Louisa spread her knees and lowered herself over Daniela. She smelt sweet, fleshy and exciting. Her plump cleft seemed to envelop Daniela. Happily she burrowed into its wet pulsing secret intricacies, nuzzling and exploring its folds and furrows. At the same time she felt Louisa’s head lowering between her own spread thighs and her lips brushing over her open
lovemouth.
Their bodies merged, Louisa grinding her pubes deeper into Daniela’s face, the heat growing between them as a slick sheen of sweat.

Stan knelt on either side of Daniela’s pillow, clasped Louisa’s hips and raised them slightly. The hard shaft of his penis passed over Daniela’s head, his balls brushing her nose. She saw his purple cockhead part Louisa’s thick wet labia. As it sank into the secret passage beyond, Daniela raised her head and kissed his ball-sack, then licked along the fast disappearing shaft. She felt Louisa’s tongue probing the simmering depths of her own vulva.

Stan began to pump in and out of his wife with increasing vigour. Daniela ground her face into the slippery junction of flesh between her master and mistress, kissing and licking where she could, tasting Louisa’s mounting excitement as her juices dripped onto her face.

The bed shook when Stan came, followed a moment later by Louisa, who collapsed onto Daniela. Daniela felt fireworks going off inside her own loins and gasped and shivered with delight.

Still infused with post-orgasmic bliss, Daniela recovered to find her face pressed against Stan and Louisa’s still-coupled genitalia. Instinctively it seemed she knew what she should do. So, while her master and mistress sprawled on top of her, she dutifully licked both of them clean, lapping up sperm and female exudation alike.

Stan and Louisa held Daniela between them as they rested, playing with her nipples and fondling her pubes. Her hands were still cuffed behind her, but that seemed almost normal by now. She had shared in something adult and exciting that had pleased all three of them.

‘How did a nice girl like you get mixed up with Tara’s crowd?’ Stan asked.

‘I suppose it was mostly to help my father, Master,’ Daniela explained. ‘When we moved to Fernleigh Rise he said I should try to make friends, especially with the Ashwells. Really he thought it might help him do business with Tara’s father. And also my mother, who’s Portuguese, wanted to fit in with the local community. She did all the right things like going to church and coffee mornings and charity events, but she wanted to be accepted by the people who counted. I thought going about with Tara would mean being polite to people I didn’t know, saying I liked music I secretly hated and perhaps going to silly parties and pretending to have a good time. Then they started talking about the Elite Club. It seemed like a bit of a joke at first. I never imagined it would come to this … and me being here right now.’

Louisa squeezed her sympathetically. ‘It sounds like you got into this just to please your parents.’

‘Oh, it’s not their fault, Mistress. I wanted to do it. You see, I’ve been quite shy all my life. Passing the Elite initiation test was a way of proving I was grown up and could be brave and take risks. I’m so sorry it hurt anybody. The way Tara talked, what you felt didn’t seem to matter. I didn’t think …’ She trailed off miserably.

Stan lifted her chin and smiled. ‘Well, you’re making up for it now. Are you ready to pay us back a bit more?’

Daniela grinned. ‘Whatever you wish, Master …’

Stan knelt on the bed resting on his heels with Daniela’s bottom in his lap and her ankles tied behind his back. His cock was firmly lodged inside her. Daniela lay back on the bed with Louisa
straddling
her head, her engorged labia lathering Daniela’s face with her juices, while she leaned forward and kissed her husband passionately.

Daniela squirmed happily under them, straining to pleasure both cock and vagina. Now I’ve passed the only test that really matters, she thought with joy. I know who I am at last.

Nine

THE ROUTINE CHANGED
the next morning.

After breakfast and their exercises in the garden, they were lined up by the back door and sent into the house one by one. When it was Tara’s turn she was taken into their room, where Narinda and Louisa Jessop reinserted her ball-gag, then put plugs of cotton wool in her ears and pads of it over her eyes. These they bound in place with a length of black repair tape that went right round her head, covering both her ears and eyes.

Mute, blind and almost deaf, Tara was led upstairs into what must have been one of the bedrooms. There she was hobbled and made to sit in a corner.

She remained alone in her dark and silent private world for what she guessed was twenty minutes, but which could have been longer. This muting of her senses was horribly disorientating and soon her mind began to wander. What had they done with the others? Mornings were for group punishment sessions. Was she being singled out specially for some reason? And why plug her ears? What new torment had the residents planned for her?

Somebody suddenly loosed her hobble and then lifted her to her feet, causing her to flinch violently. She hadn’t even known anybody was in the room.
Whoever
had charge of her was wearing gloves, so though she thought it was one of the women, she could not be sure which.

Tara stumbled down the stairs and into the living room. She felt plastic sheeting under her bare feet. What was that for? Her cuffs were removed and she was made to kneel down on all fours. Her hands and feet were pulled apart, brushing across what felt like flattish pieces of wood in the process, and then they were secured with straps.

A rubber-gloved finger covered with vaseline was poked into her anus to grease it, then a short metal sleeve or collar was pushed into the ring of muscle, holding it wide open. Clips were fastened to her nipples. The clips were attached to what felt like sprung cords, dragging her nipples slightly down and back. The other ends connected to the middle of the wooden object to which her ankles were strapped. The clips were uncomfortable but the drag on the cords was not painful as long as she remained still.