Captives of Cheyner Close (21 page)

What seemed like a stiff rod was clipped to her dangling collar ring. From the way it moved the other end must have been hinged to the middle of the board to which her hands were strapped. As Tara swayed forward slightly, though not too much for fear of tugging on her nipple clips, she felt the resistance of a spring keeping the rod from bending freely.

Then came what she had expected, in some form or another. A slim dildo was fed through the metal ring holding her anus open and a little way up her rectum, at the same time as something rather fatter entered the mouth of her vagina. Tara froze, waiting for the things to be pushed all the way into her at any moment, but they remained as they were. After a minute or two Tara tentatively began to explore the
objects
as best she could, tensing her muscles so as virtually to suck on them with her rectum and vagina.

Could she have imagined using her private parts for such a task a week ago, she thought wryly?

The dildos, if that was what they were, had a pliancy suggesting rubber, but their tips seemed to be tingling slightly. At first it had seemed a minor irritation, but gradually it began to feel more like growing heat within her most intimate and sensitive sheaths of flesh. Instinctively she leaned forward a little against the resistance of her collar rod to slide the dildos as far out of her as possible and so reduce the sensation, though this pulled harder on her nipples.

Was this it, she wondered? How long would she have to stay like this waiting for something to happen?

The double dildos suddenly stabbed back into her. As their shafts slithered through her wet sheaths of flesh Tara gave a gag-smothered gasp at the jolt of pain she felt. Now she understood the tingling sensation. They had electric coils wound about them, and the deeper they were inside her the more they hurt.

By reflex her buttocks clenched, jerking her forward, only to flinch as her nipple clips pulled her back. But in that moment the dildos had at least withdrawn, leaving only their tingling tips inside her.

However she only had time to take a single relieved breath before they jabbed into her again, harder and deeper. She lunged forward to escape the pain, tearing on her nipples and then jerking backwards to escape their own torment, to find the dildos had once again, if only briefly, withdrawn.

After a while a relentless rhythm established itself. As long as she jerked herself forward the moment she
felt
the shock-dildos sliding up her it was not too bad, though her nipples were suffering by default. They were of course perversely responding by pulsing with erectile blood, which only made the pinching of the clips worse.

Hurt as it did, she could feel her loins also responding to the relentless shafting, the pain in her nipples and the shocks. She was dripping onto the plastic mat under her … oh, that was what it was there for! Her body was doing just what she recklessly said she intended when their ordeal started; finding pleasure wherever she could despite the circumstances. Yesterday she had a choice about masturbating on the gutter tongues, but that was after the worst was over. Now she was in far greater pain and even more aroused. At what point did using pleasure to defy her captors and blunt the pain of their punishments become pleasure in the punishment itself? Was she, deep down, beginning to enjoy the whole perverse process? No, surely not. But at the very least, she was becoming a helpless puppet whose juices could be made to flow with little effort.

Her only consolation was that the other girls need never know.

Warwick, Narinda, Jim Curry and Louisa looked down with satisfaction at the ring of straining, bound and blindfolded girls who were unwittingly screwing and sodomising each other in turn. Cameras were ranged about them to record their disgrace.

The girls on their hands and knees alternated with six identical devices mounted on wedge-shaped wooden bases. The wrists of the girl behind were strapped to the corners of one side of the base, while the ankles of the girl ahead where strapped to the other. The cords from the nipples of the girl in front
ran
back to the baseboard behind her, while the rod fastened to her collar ran down to the board in front.

Rising from the centre of each board was a short length of timber with a pivot ring mounted on top. Through this was slotted a horizontal rod which at one end connected to the collar rod of one girl and on the other bore the electrified dildos which were partway lodged in the rectum and vagina of the girl ahead of her.

The beauty of it was that there had been no need to do anything except switch on Tom Fanning’s transformer, which fed power to the dildos, and then wait. The slight twitchings the girls had made as the low-powered tips of the dildos began to irritate them had been transmitted through the rods to the next girl, who responded naturally by shifting forward herself, driving her dildo rod into the waiting orifices of the girl in front of her, before the painful tension of her sprung nipple cords drew her back. This response had been magnified and accelerated as it passed round the ring, causing the girls in turn to react a little more vigorously each time. Positive reinforcing feedback, Tom called it.

Now the impulse was travelling round the ring in under four seconds. The girls had become a living machine formed of sweating bodies, straining twitching buttocks, blushing dripping pudenda and jiggling swaying nipple-tethered breasts. The plastic sheets under them were speckled with drool from their gagged mouths, drops of perspiration and growing puddles of vaginal lubrication. The smell of sweat and helpless arousal filled the air.

The inevitable orgasms began to occur, but they hardly slowed the impulse. Gail came with a moan and a shudder, discharging her juices very prettily. But unknowingly she was being shafted from behind
by
Cassie, and so had to continue innocently thrusting into Tara to save her from worse shocks. Tara did not know she was screwing and buggering Hazel, who was blindly rogering Sian, who was in turn reaming out Daniela, who was pumping the dildos into Cassie’s by now well used passages, and so on.

It was only after nearly an hour, when the girls began to tremble with sheer exhaustion, that the residents took pity and switched off the current to the dildos. Such was the strength of the thrusting reflex to which they had been subjected that it took a couple of minutes for the girls to realise the dildos were no longer shocking them. Only then did they hang their heads, let their backs sag and slowly give way to muffled gasps, sobs and snorting breaths.

Leaving their blindfolds and ear plugs in place, the girls were freed from their straps and clips only to have their wrists cuffed behind them once more. As limp and unresisting as rag dolls, they had to be virtually carried into the garden. Leashes tied to widely spaced stakes hammered into the grass ensured they did not move far. Here their gags were briefly removed so they could greedily gulp down water, and then replaced.

They sprawled almost motionless on the lawn, except for the rise and fall of their chests. Hazel and Gail were so exhausted that they could not find the strength to squat properly and peed down their legs.

By lunchtime they had all recovered sufficiently to eat, if rather unsteadily, bent over on their knees as normal; though their noses had first to be pushed into their bowls so they understood what was before them. When they were done they were taken back to their room, where their bed frames had been laid out once
again.
Only when they were all secured in them were their blindfolds and ear plugs removed.

Even the dim light filtering through the shuttered living room window made Tara squint, while every slightest sound boomed in her ears. For some minutes after the residents departed she lay still, every muscle aching, grateful simply to lay flat and not have to move. She felt utterly drained and just wanted to luxuriate in the security of her bed-stocks, in which she was always allowed to rest easily with a straight back. She knew that the others were with her once more, but for the moment was too tired to care where they had been.

It was Hazel who asked in a faint voice: ‘Is everybody there? What happened to you?’

Feebly they acknowledged their presence. They all sounded as exhausted as Tara was. After they had recovered a little, Gail began to recount her adventures.

‘… so I was on my hands and knees with clips on my nipples and had these electric prod-things up my bottom and pussy.’

‘That’s what they did to me,’ Sian interjected.

‘Me too,’ said Hazel.

Realisation slowly dawned.

‘Shit!’ Cassie said. ‘They had us screwing each other!’

‘Sorry,’ Gail said.

‘What are you being sorry for?’ Cassie demanded.

‘I don’t know,’ Gail admitted. ‘You seemed angry.’

‘Of course I’m fucking angry!’

‘Did you come?’ Hazel asked Gail, ignoring Cassie’s rage.

‘Oh yeah, though I’m sore now.’

‘Me too. How many times?’

‘Don’t you understand?’ Cassie shouted. ‘They’ve got us doing it to each other now!’

Tara had to speak up. ‘Get real, Cassie. It just proves what we already know. They can do anything they like with us.’

‘But today was tougher than anything we’ve been made to do so far,’ Sian pointed out. ‘What’s next?’

‘Freedom!’ Tara reminded them. ‘Tomorrow’s Friday. The week’ll be up and we’re quits. Midnight tomorrow it’ll all be over and we’ll be out of here.’

‘If they let us go,’ Cassie said gloomily.

‘They will,’ Tara assured her.

‘I wonder if they’ve got any surprises for us?’ Hazel asked innocently.

They felt so tired, Tara wondered if they were up to whatever evening event the residents had planned for them. Perhaps the residents realised the same thing or perhaps they just wanted to keep them off balance because, apart from being held in Gerald Spooner’s garden once again, it turned out to be quite different from what she expected.

They were used as living furniture.

Before the other residents arrived, they were led round to Number 9, where it was obvious from the bustle in the kitchen that a garden party was planned. From a beaming Jim Curry standing beside a pile of straps, boards, rods and pieces of carefully cut perspex, it was also obvious he’d been busy in his workshop again. By the time the other residents arrived, the girls had been positioned about the garden and were, literally, ready to serve.

Tara stood very straight and erect. She had no choice. Her ankles were strapped together around a vertical metal rod set in a blockboard base. A second strap round her knees ensured they would not bend. The rod passed on up between her clenched thighs
and
vanished between the inrolling cleft of her buttocks. Its head was nestled deep in her rectum. She soon discovered that it was an excellent way of encouraging somebody to stand with their back straight.

A flat ring of clear perspex circled her middle just above her hips. It was made in two halves that had been screwed together, nipping her waist tight between them, and made an excellent table for bowls of party snacks or simply somewhere to rest a drink. It was braced by a slim rod running from its rim down to the cleft of her pubes, where its end made an angle up into her vagina and was capped by a rubber ball.

Tara’s arms were folded behind her and strapped wrist to forearm. This both showed off the inward curve of her waist and kept them clear of the second tabletop she bore. This was formed out of a crescent of perspex slung hard up under her breasts, so their warm fullness actually rested on the cool clear surface as though being offered up for the delectation of the diners. A strap joined the tips of the crescent behind her back, while the front edge was supported by a short chain clipped to Tara’s collar ring. Her mouth was of course filled with her ball gag. Living furniture was expected to remain silent.

So she stood mutely serving her captors, reduced almost as far as it was possible for a living being to be to an inanimate object. She burned softly inside with shame, yet perversely certain at the same time that she made a beautiful and elegant side table that would grace any party.

The other girls had been arrayed differently.

Gail was kneeling with her legs spread, showing off her pubic mound. Her body was bowed over backwards, her stomach outthrust. A rod rising from a
blockboard
base beneath her was plugged into her anus, helping support her hips. Her upper body was braced by her arms, which she held rigidly straight and vertical, so that her hands pressed to the ground close to her feet. Straps linked her wrists and ankles.

The upthrust double swell of her pneumatic breasts provided the perfect level support for the perspex table top slung about her neck and shoulders. Looking though the clear top you could see her erect pink nipples pressed against its underside. Even gagged her face was perfectly calm, almost dreamy.

Daniela was also on her knees, but with her body bent forward so that her level back provided support for an oval of perspex. Her hands rested on the ground just in front of her spread knees. A chain ran from the strap that bound her wrists together back between her legs to the rod that linked her ankles. A second rod ran up from this rod into the soft cleft of her vagina, ensuring she kept her bottom up. The table she carried was secured in place at the front end by a strap that went around her head and between her teeth, thereby serving also as a gag, and at the other by a spring and hook which curled its tip into the pucker of her anus.

A similar hook and strap method had been used to fasten the table to Cassie’s back. She was standing with straight legs strapped to a wooden base and pole like that on which Tara was impaled, except Cassie’s pole went up between her thighs into her pubes. She was bent over at right angles from the hip, braced by her arms with her palms resting on her knees. Straps bound her wrists to her lower thighs. Tara noted that Cassie’s eyes remained closed most of the time she was serving, while her bared teeth showed very white about her gag strap, as though she would like to bite through it given the chance.