Captives of Cheyner Close (7 page)

‘Well, let’s get her started on the housework,’ Stan said. ‘A bit of hoovering for you, girl. We want everywhere looking spotless.’

Smiling brightly, Louisa brought in a cylinder vacuum cleaner trundling along on its casters. It was perfectly normal except for one addition that made Cassie’s eyes bulge. Just where the metal tube curved over, after the socket that connected it to the hose, a large, flesh-coloured vibrator stood stiffly upright. It was held in place by wire and tape and glistened with freshly applied oil.

Cassie started to back away from it, shaking her head. Stan caught hold of her by a fistful of hair. ‘You agreed to anything we chose to do with you as long as it wasn’t harmful. And this isn’t going to hurt. You might even enjoy it. But whether you do or not, we certainly will. And for the next week that’s all that matters.’

While Stan held her, Louisa buckled a belt with lengths of string trailing from it about Cassie’s waist. It took a couple of flicks of the holly cane across her thighs to make Cassie spread her legs and straddle the hose. Louisa guided the vibrator between the tight lips of Cassie’s sex and pushed it home. Cassie gave a muffled grunt as the sculptured length of pliant oiled plastic slid up her vaginal sheath, plugging her tightly. The cords trailing from her belt were tied about the vacuum hose in front and behind her, holding the vibrator firmly in place. Cassie could only stand with awkwardly splayed legs while the hose trailed tail-like behind her and the tube and cleaner head jutted out before her in the manner of some bizarre phallus.

Stan Jessop turned on the machine and Cassie shivered as the whine of the motor was transmitted up the hose to her groin. Before she could come to terms with the disturbing sensation, Louisa switched on the vibrator. Cassie moaned as it came to buzzing life inside her. It was impossible to ignore and in seconds she felt her vagina growing slick with lubrication while her nipples began to swell and harden. Jessop noticed this and flicked the blossoming buds with his finger. ‘I told you you’d enjoy it,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Now start sweeping.’

Cassie pushed forward half-heartedly, rubbing the brush head over the carpet. Louisa swiped her cane across Cassie’s backside, making her jerk her hips convulsively, sending the buzzing vibrator gouging even deeper into her.

‘Haven’t you ever used a Hoover before?’ Louisa said. ‘Do it properly!’

Wretchedly, Cassie jerked her hips forward and back, working the brush into the carpet pile. Then she took a splay-legged step forward, dragging the
cylinder
after her, and cleaned the next section. And with every move she made, the vibrator churned about within her, letting no part of her insides escape its insidious stimulation.

As she worked her way across the room Cassie began to feel a familiar sense of anticipation growing in her loins. She would have thought her circumstances would have made arousal impossible, but it seemed instead to have heightened her senses. The metal tube between her thighs was getting slick with her juices. Blushing furiously she lowered her head, trying to focus only on the carpet, but it was impossible to conceal what was happening.

Cassie snatched a sidelong glance at the Jessops to see Stan with a camera in one hand while his other arm was about his wife. Even as she glanced at them she saw Stan slip his hand inside Louisa’s blouse and fondle her breast, while whispering something in her ear which made her smile. Tara had said these people were too stupid and repressed to be inventive about sex. How could she have been so wrong?

Despite her shame, reflex was taking over now. Cassie was grinding the brush head ever harder into the floor to work the vibrator about within her, surrendering to her natural urges. She just made it into the hall when she convulsed in the throws of an orgasm, grunting and gasping, sinking to her knees and bucking her hips frantically before collapsing onto her side with the vibrator still buzzing inside her.

As though from a great distance she heard Stan Jessop saying: ‘We’ll give you five minutes to get over that. Then you’ve got the stairs to do …’

Sian squatted on the scarred wooden top of the heavy workbench in Jim Curry’s shed. A chain fastened to a beam overhead was hooked to the back of her
collar,
ensuring she held her position. Her left hand was still cuffed behind her back, its partner locked to a belt Jim had fastened about her waist. Her right arm was free, but her hand had been taped about the handle of a dustpan brush so that she could not release it. Her knees were spread wide, concealing nothing. Jim had earlier taken some satisfaction in arranging Sian’s posture so that this should be so, then examining and photographing her at his leisure.

She had a black, shoulder-length mop of hair, matching dark intense eyes and straight brows. Her neat slightly uptilted nose was set in a heart-shaped face. She had a slim body, a tiny waist and a small pale rounded bottom. Her breasts were apple-like in their firm rotundity, with nipples that Jim had been interested to discover resembled little more than crinkled buds at rest but under handling swelled to plump rounded cones. The pubic hair between her thighs was as dark and thick as that on her head.

Physically she was undeniably a pretty girl, Jim conceded, though when he had seen her in the past he thought there was something a shade calculating and aloof about her eyes. At this moment, however, her eyes communicated only discomfort, uncertainty and a wordless plea for mercy.

Jim enjoyed the feeling that look gave him. For the first time in her life, however reluctantly, what he thought and felt mattered to Sian Llwellyn-Finch.

As he fitted his devices to her he chatted cheerfully. The ball-gag stretching her lips into a helpless gape necessarily limited her responses.

‘I’ve always been good with my hands,’ he confided. ‘When I more or less retired I set myself up here the way I’d always wanted. I can make pretty well anything in wood or metal. I was really happy,
you
know …’ His mood darkened. ‘Then you and your friends started your nasty games. Remember the night you broke that window over there and sprayed everything you could reach with red paint? That ruined a really fine walnut-veneered table I’d been restoring. That wasn’t very nice, was it?’

Sian shook her head while making small whines in the back of her throat.

‘Was that an apology?’

Sian nodded vigorously.

‘You mean you did the spraying?’

Desperate head shaking and what might have been a gurgled: ‘No, no …’

‘I suppose it doesn’t matter now. You’re all going to get the same treatment, after all. I’ve got plenty of ideas I want to try out on you lot.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s going to be an interesting week.’

Sian whimpered, dropping her chin to her chest. Jim caught her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her head back up so she looked him in the eye.

‘Feeling sorry for yourself, are you? Well, can you really blame me for wanting a bit of revenge? And what better way than starting with you tidying up my workshop.’

He unclipped her collar chain and bodily lifted her down onto the floor. She could not have climbed down herself. Jim walked round her, admiring his handiwork.

Straps circled Sian’s upper thighs and ankles, making it impossible for her to straighten her legs and forcing her to remain in a squatting position. She did not fall over because she was sitting on the head of an old stiff-bristled yard broom with casters screwed to each end. All but a short section of its handle had been cut off and the remainder had then been encased in a sleeve of waterpipe insulating foam and bound
with
tape. This stump had then been forced into Sian’s tight little bottom hole and now, somewhat uncomfortably, plugged her rectum. Between her slim splayed thighs a large metal dustpan faced forward. Its handle, which Jim had bent upwards and also bound with foam and tape for grip, was buried in the depths of the pink cleft that peeped from Sian’s pubic bush. Wires secured through holes drilled in the rim of the pan ran up to Sian’s nipples, where the ends were twisted about the fleshy nubs, which seemed to remain swollen under their stimulus, much to their owner’s evident dismay.

‘Now do your job, my little sweeping machine,’ her told her.

With a miserable whimper, Sian began shuffling forward on her intimately mounted casters as well as her doubled-up legs allowed, sweeping dust and woodshavings with her brush hand into her pan. A couple of times the leading edge of the pan caught in a crack between the floorboards, unexpectedly digging its handle deeper into her. Turning required a lot of awkward shuffling which, from the expressions that passed across her face, clearly worked the broom handle uncomfortably about inside her.

When the pan was full Sian trundled over to the shallow cardboard box Jim had put out for rubbish. Getting as close as she could she bent her supple body backwards. The wires linking her small breasts to the pan grew taut, lifting its front end over the rim of the box. Tears came to her eyes as her nipples stretched painfully under the load, the pan handle turning within her vagina. She brushed the pan clean, then shuffled gratefully backwards. The pan slid off the box rim and dropped suddenly back down between her thighs. Sian shrieked behind her gag at the agonising jerk her nipples received.

‘You should have realised that would happen,’ Jim said unsympathetically. ‘Be more careful next time.’

Tears were trickling down her cheeks as she looked up at him, mutely imploring to be released from her mechanical torment.

‘I’ll be having you for a whole night later in the week,’ Jim told her. ‘You can talk then. If you plead really well then maybe I’ll be kind to you. But right now, you keep sweeping.’

Roberta Pemberton looked a trembling Daniela over with delighted anticipation. It had been a long time since she’d had such a pretty creature to play with. Perhaps it was just reward for all she had suffered.

Daniela had smooth clear skin with a delicate olive-gold sheen. Her face was narrow and frank, her nose slightly prominent, balanced by her naturally full but well shaped brows. Her eyes were deep brown and rather shy. Dark hair fell to the middle of her back. Daniela’s buttocks were full and deeply cleft without being overheavy, accentuated by the supple inward curve of her back. Her thighs were strong and nicely tapered. At their apex sprouted a fluffy delta of dark brown curls.

But Daniela’s outstanding feature, Roberta decided, was her breasts. Though not large they had a convex swell to their upper slopes, hinting at a pneumatic ripeness that made them stand out from her chest, forming the neatest of creases where their undersides flowed into the skin of her ribcage. They were crowned with well-defined brown areolae tapering to sharply conical nipples crinkled with nervous apprehension.

Curious, Roberta reached out and rolled the small brown domes between her fingers. Daniela shivered and closed her eyes. Roberta continued her ministrations,
knowing
how and where to touch, circling her fingertips around the sensitive rim of the girl’s areolae. As they blossomed into plump bulbous cones Daniela’s head sank lower and her eyes closed in shame.

‘Don’t worry,’ she told the young woman. ‘We can’t always help putting on a show. Like men’s cocks, our nipples sometimes stand up at the most embarrassing times.’ She lifted Daniela’s chin and looked her in the eye. ‘I know you’ve only recently joined Tara’s gang so all this doesn’t seem fair, but you did make the choice and now you’ve got to suffer the consequences.’

Daniela nodded sadly.

‘The best thing you can do is take whatever comes and make it clear you’re truly sorry,’ Roberta advised. ‘I think it’ll go easier for you with the other residents that way. Some of it won’t be very pleasant, of course, but we really do want to see you properly punished. You can’t really blame us.’

Daniela shook her head.

‘So we might as well get on with it. Now, what I have in mind for you will hurt a little and it’s certainly meant to be humiliating, but you might find a bit of pleasure in it if you try …’

From a side table Roberta brought over several items which she placed before Daniela, who gazed at them in dismay. There was an aerosol can of spray furniture polish with a dildo taped to its cap, a tube of KY jelly, a fluffy duster the handle end of which had been embedded in a hard rubber ball, a pair of frilly garters and a couple of long elastic bands.

‘When we were discussing how to start you off on domestic tasks earlier this morning, we all came up with similar ideas about the most demeaning way for a girl to be made to do housework. We had great fun
making
up these little devices. Maybe you’ll compare notes with the rest of the gang as to who had it the hardest. Or of course you could decide to say nothing. Nobody can force you to do anything for the next week, except us. Now be a good girl and bend over.’

Numbly, Daniela turned and bent, spreading her legs without being told. Roberta patted and stroked the smooth tan hills of her pretty bottom. ‘That’s right. Now I’ll just put a little jelly on this …’ She greased the ball handle of the duster, then pried apart Daniela’s buttock cleft and pressed the glistening ball into the bronze-rimmed pucker of her anus. Her little bottom mouth was reluctant to open at first but spread under increasing pressure, gaping to swallow the ball. Suddenly it popped inside, bringing forth a squeak from Daniela, and the ring of muscle closed around it. Roberta slid about a third of the wooden shaft up Daniela’s rectum then gave it an experimental wiggle, eliciting a muffled gasp. It was like having a handle attached to the girl’s most intimate parts.

‘Stand up and turn around,’ she commanded and gingerly Daniela did so, the duster sticking out of her rear like a drooping tail.

Roberta held up the can of polish with its bizarre embellishment so her captive could see it clearly. ‘The only way to press the spray nozzle, when you can’t use your hands, is to push down on the dildo while the base of the can is resting on something.’ Daniela nodded. ‘Do you also see there are drawing pins taped over the base of the dildo?’ Daniela gulped, her eyes widening, and then nodded again. Roberta smiled. ‘Now they won’t touch you unless the dildo goes all the way up inside. So, the harder you grip it with your inner muscles when you spray, the less the pins will prick. Understand?’