Teena: A House of Ill Repute (21 page)

I felt something pressing against the lower part of my face and snapped back to my own predicament. Hercules had inserted what I thought had to be two fingers into my mouth opening, and was using them to turn my head towards him. I felt leather-sheathed fingers against the tip of my tongue and let out a throaty gasp.

'Your turn soon, dolly girl,' he whispered, 'and your efforts won't be as wasted as that one's obviously are.' I felt the pressure of his other arm against my lower stomach, and as I peered downwards I guessed he was probing my outer opening with his fingers, though at this stage I could feel little beyond more exterior pressure. The artificial padded vagina was holding me open, the rigid cup preventing any stimulation of my clitoris. Anything Hercules did would do nothing for me, but then that was what Carmen had intended. I was a sex doll, and sex dolls need no gratification. Sex dolls serve only for the gratification of their owners and, for the next hour or thereabouts, Hercules was my owner and he would gratify himself without any thought for me or my feelings or needs.

And then, to my utter surprise, that thought did what he himself would not be able to do. One moment I was standing there, erect and unresponsive, the next my knees were like jelly and I fell back against him from the sheer force of the orgasm that exploded with the force of a small atom bomb in my pelvis.

'Well, fuck me sideways,' I dimly heard his voice near to my ear. 'I've bought myself a dolly with hidden extras!'

The next few hours passed as in a dream, or as though I was mostly just an observer watching proceedings from behind a smoky glass screen. I watched as the Anne-Marie doll figure was laid out on her back. I watched as the Andrea doll mounted her, guiding her massive shaft into the rubber vagina and then into her body, which could feel virtually nothing. I watched in awe as the Anne-Marie doll bucked and writhed, and then again as the Andrea doll in her turn was laid prone and the Anne-Marie doll straddled and mounted her, riding her with increasing energy until Davina finally declared the performance at an end.

Did either of the mute figures feel or experience anything from their couplings? I know whether they did or not, because they told me afterwards, but I'll leave you to guess for yourselves. For my own part, I confess, I came twice more, even though the powerful hands that cupped my bulging breasts felt as if they were distant feathers and no amount of frigging of my own rubber cunt was ever going to have any effect. It was all in my mind, all of it, reactions triggered purely by the spectacle and by something inside me I knew would always be able to rise and take control, no matter how hard I tried to fight against it or deny it. I felt, as Hercules turned me around and began leading me towards the back of the crypt, that it didn't need a rubber skin and artificial mouth and sex openings to turn me into a sex doll - I was one already, a helpless marionette dancing on the strings of abandonment to a tune that was as old as the world itself.

6.

'Understanding I think I am,' Erik said, breaking the silence that had hung between us for several minutes. He was sitting, cross-legged, by the side of the makeshift bed, while I was lying on my side, still masked, still bound, and feeling as if someone had pulled a plug somewhere and let every bit of me drain out. Erik leaned across me and gently stroked my leather-covered cheek, a curious expression on his face.

'The game you need to play and pretend that things still as they were are,' he said. 'She has you infected with her wickedness, I think.'

I grunted, shifting my position slightly and shook my head. 'No,' I said, 'Megan hasn't infected me with anything. The infection was there already. I think it's something that's in all of us, but some of us manage to resist it and keep it under control. All Megan did, if she did anything at all, was to break down my resistance, though I couldn't say for sure it might not have happened anyway.'

Erik continued to look at me without expression, but his fingers wandered all over the mask. 'This is the key?' he asked. 'Unlocking a gate it is, I think?'

'It's part of it,' I conceded. 'Behind the mask, and all that. We all wear masks of different kinds throughout our lives, I think. This just happens to be a physical mask rather than an emotional one, if you can understand that?'

He nodded gravely. 'Yes, understand that I can,' he said. He reached over and touched my bound wrists. 'Uncomfortable you must now be,' he suggested.

I grunted again. 'But don't untie me yet,' I whispered. 'Let things stay as they are for a while longer. I need to be punished for my wickedness, I think.'

'Punished?'

'Yes.'

'Ah!'

I nodded, but turned my head sideways to avoid his unblinking scrutiny. There was another silence that lasted maybe ten seconds, and then I heard him stir. I closed my eyes, listening as I heard the rustling of straw followed by the sound of heavier items being moved. They were random sounds, as if he were searching for something. Finally, I heard him returning.

'Stand!'

I opened my eyes and turned my head back towards him. He was holding what seemed to be a length of strap in one hand, with the other hand stretched out to me. With his assistance I managed to get to my feet, and he held the strap out for me to see. It looked as though it might have been part of a harness once, the leather stiff and cracked in several places.

'For your wickedness,' he announced simply.

I nodded. 'Yes.'

Erik grasped my arm and turned me around so I was facing the doorway, and then I felt the pressure of a large hand between my shoulder blades. Suppressing a series of small tremors, I obeyed the pressure and bent forward, moving my feet further apart to maintain my balance. The hand ran down and along my back, past my bound wrists, and rested upon my right buttock. For a few seconds he stroked my taut flesh and then drew the hand back to deliver a sharp slap. I let out a small gasp, followed by a grunt as he spanked the other globe.

'Pretty,' I heard him murmur. I felt the fingers stroking again; twice, three, four times, and then they stopped. This time there was a longer pause before I heard the hiss of leather cutting through the air. It was a short swing, but the strap landed right across the middle of both my cheeks, sending a shockwave surging up to my brain that lit tiny red lights before my eyes.

Again the hiss, followed by another bolt of fire. I took half a step forward to prevent myself from toppling and at the same time Erik grabbed my bound wrists to steady me. I jerked upright, pressing back against his chest, looking up and craning my neck to try and see his face.

'Bastard,' I whimpered. 'Beautiful bastard!' I could feel the heat and pressure of his erection pressing against the small of my back and squirmed around to face him, slipping down onto one knee as he released his grip on me. His manhood stood stiff and proud, just asking to be worshipped, and I came to the altar willingly, almost gagging as I swallowed more than half his length. I sensed him trying to relax, the arm holding the strap dropping to his side. The fire in my backside had spread to ignite little blazes that now consumed my entire body and I could think now of only one thing. I let the slippery rod slide from my mouth and staggered to my feet, facing him squarely.

'Fuck me, master,' I begged. 'Fuck me!' Although I was by far the smaller, as well as bound and wearing the mask of a slave, there was no doubt now which of us was in charge as he scooped me up, spread my thighs and lowered me onto his sacrificial spike. I groaned as he filled me, encircling his hips with my legs and sinking my teeth into the flesh of his shoulder just as the first of a new series of climaxes reared up to claim its prize.

'Let's see if you're really worth your money then, shall we dolly?'

I blinked, peering through the shadows to where Hercules now stood, legs astride, an impressive flesh coloured column rising from the opening in his black leather breeches. He pointed to it, and then made an O shape with his mouth.

'C'mon, dolly,' he urged, 'that mouth of yours can only be intended for one thing, so don't be shy.'

I tottered forward and crouched in front of him. My hands were free now and I reached out with both of them to stroke carefully down each side of his shaft, testing it for size to see if the touch matched up with what my eyes were telling me. It did, and now all that remained was for me to see if Carmen's calculations when designing the doll suit's oral feature were generous enough.

They were, but it was a most odd sensation as I guided the gleaming head into the opening, for although I knew I was taking a cock into my mouth, my mouth itself could feel nothing beyond that awful jaw-stretching ache imposed by the rigid ring embedded within the softer latex. And then, without warning, I felt warm flesh against the back of my tongue, but Hercules was far from satisfied yet. He thrust forward and I made a gurgling, throaty protest as he all but gagged me.

'That's a good doll,' I heard him laugh. 'Nice little rubber mouth and very soft.'

Glad you like it
, I thought grimly, and slowly began to move my head back and forth. I heard a heavy sigh of pleasure from above and felt his gloved hands grasping at either side of my skull, but now he seemed content to let me take the lead, for there was no attempt to force me to take his entire length again.

Foolish, I thought, how bloody foolish. You've got a live girl inside here with a live mouth and yet you get your rocks off fucking a plastic and rubber mouth in the middle of a stupid latex dolly face. And, in a few minutes, you're going to stick this great big cock inside a rubber cunt and pump and pump until it empties itself. Might just as well have stuck with a real dolly.

But then I
was
a real dolly, a real flesh and blood and rubber and plastic dolly that moved and breathed, and right now I was coming very close to experiencing something my inflatable counterparts would never know. Closing my eyes and biting hard against the plastic, I did my hardest to resist, knowing that nothing I could do was going to help and hating myself for being so bloody weak.

I had no idea how long we remained in the derelict barn, but outside it had grown dark long before we started back. Inside, Erik produced a lantern he had previously hidden away behind the timber stack in the far corner, and by its flickering orange light we made love twice more. I say 'made love', but in reality we simply fucked each other's lights out, which served to keep the steadily chilling night air at bay, if nothing else. Finally, however, even Erik seemed to have reached his limit, and when we finally emerged to stand looking at the moonlit river, I at least did so on very unsteady legs.

'Beautiful, is it not?' he asked softly.

I gazed at the silvery ripples as the water flowed past and at the darkened silhouettes of the trees on the opposite bank, and nodded. Beautiful and quiet, with only the soft whispering of the current against the banks to break the silence. I looked down immediately in front of me, where the grass suddenly gave way to the water a few inches below. 'This will be a river in a few years time,' I observed.

'This is a river,' Erik said, not understanding.

I shook my head. 'No, where we're standing,' I explained. 'The river is eating into the bank on this side and piling up mud on the other bank as it comes around the bend here. Bit by bit, the river's course is moving this way. A hundred years from now it could be over there, behind us.' I jerked a thumb to illustrate my point. 'I think that's why there's so little left of the mill building itself and the wheel is missing, in case you haven't noticed. The house is still all right because it sits back a way from the bank, but even that will go in time. Once,' I sighed, 'this pathway was probably a proper lane, but the river has eaten away and eaten away and now it doesn't go anywhere.'

'A bridge there was,' Erik said. He nodded upstream. 'Finding it I was when first we came, but gone mostly it is now. As you say, the water takes away.'

'And with no road to it on this side worth talking about,' I observed, 'no one would have bothered keeping it repaired. Was it stone or wood?'

'Wood, but now all rotted is all that is left. As you say, all changing is.'

'And changing I must be,' I mimicked. 'This dress is still damp at the front and the cape's no better.' It had at least stopped raining, but the air was heavy with moisture and I was beginning to feel chilled.

Erik lifted the lantern and by its light briefly studied my face. 'Yes,' he said. 'Warm we must be getting you, or the ague will come.'

More likely a common old cold, I thought, and that prospect, without aspirin, let alone even a basic antibiotic, did not appeal one iota. I had work to do and ending up sniffling and coughing in bed for two weeks wasn't in the script. 'C'mon then, tiger!' I exclaimed. 'Let's get back and see how Indira's been getting on, shall we? With a bit of luck, we'll have two out of three of the girls underway now and two out of three ain't bad, as the saying goes!'

'It does?' Erik shook his head, indicating his confusion, but then he was quickly getting used to some of my curious speech patterns, even if he
was
trying to be too much of a gentleman to say so. Mind you, in his case, an expression containing the words 'kettle', 'black pot' and 'calling' came easily to mind.