KIDNAPPED
Return of the Napper
Written by Gord 
Illustrated by Benson


Editors' Note:
FOREWORD

Welcome to the House of Gord. From within our hallowed halls come some of the greatest bondage adventures ever told. Our novels will invariably lead you on a discovery adventure to worlds, both earthly and otherwise, filled with beautiful, curvaceous women, bound in the most imaginative and restrictive configurations ever conceived by mortal man (or woman).

At the House of Gord, females are teased and tormented by their own libidos, converted into highly specialised utility items, trussed and trained into subservient objects of pleasure and reduced to mere chattels for the enjoyment of those who can afford to pay the price.

Divine creatures, every one of them; no bondage is too strict, no control too complete, and no scenario too trying for these damsels in distress.

Our bondage novels guarantee a welcome reprieve from the daily grind. The mind is given the opportunity to take flight and fantasise the impossible (or at least improbable). In real life, we must play safely. Bound by our conscience and the physical limitations of the human body, our options are many, but not endless.

As Gord frequently has said, "There are only so many ways you can tie up a chick."

An artist/author must reach beyond what is safe in reality to explore those areas that cannot be explored in real life. The pen really is mightier than the sword, for its territory knows no limits.

It is generally accepted that the most effective erotic stories are those that are written from the crotch. It's hard enough for most of us to confide our hottest fantasies to a lover. It takes a lot of courage to put pen to paper in the realm of the erotic and share the results with the world. It also takes a lot of courage to purchase an erotic story, especially one of an alternative nature. We applaud you, dear reader, for having the courage to enter the House of Gord.

We doubt our books will ever be politically correct, at least in the current era. We prefer to reserve our political correctness for real life and the voting place.

Whilst we will occasionally edit stories to ensure a reasonable level of grammatical correctness, we will not modify a story in a way that would tend to disguise the author's own style, or to avoid upsetting the politically correct apple cart. There is no apple cart at the House of Gord- just a lot of pony carts pulled by shapely, bound women with juddering nates hooked up to electrodes and prancing merrily around on 6-inch stilettos.

Yeah, right!

These books are intended as an entertainment of the mind, pure and simple, for the discerning bondage connoisseur. Therefore we will do everything in our power to assure our novels are only experienced by those who truly desire them.

Our stories venture into the outer reaches of the BDSM field, and we think the results are most engaging. The world of make believe is a very large territory with no signposts or boundaries. It is probably the only truly private world left to us in this day and age that we can retreat into without fear of prying surveillance. We hope you will enjoy our novels as much as we do. We thank you for your continued patronage and support of our small, customer friendly enterprise.

The Editors


Kidnapped 2 - Return of the Napper
Set in the year following Kidnapped - 1, year 2102

CHAPTER ONE - GHOSTS OF YESTERYEAR

"VALENSKI! Get your sorry ass in here pronto!"

Eddie grimaced as the Captain's bull horn voice penetrated the tobacco fog of the detectives' room; rattling the grimy windows of his cramped personal domain. At a guess there was a shitty assignment up for grabs. One that everyone else had managed to avoid. Being the last one to report for shift meant the shit fell on Eddie. It was hardly a novel situation. For more than three years now, ever since the demise of Napper and gaining possession of his long time sweetheart, Eddie seldom arrived on time.

Life was a bitch. Every morning it fell to him to truss up the brainwashed, bondage crazed Claudine so that she would endure the day in a state of semi- permanent arousal. He could hardly blame her. He was the one who had sneakily opted to leave her connected to the mind-modifier, and then promptly fucked up by allowing the personality reversal program disk to be erased whilst lodged in the cleft of Cassidy's electrified buttocks.

He stubbed out the soggy remains of a cheroot that had long since become a smelly smouldering weed with serious life threatening qualities to anyone in range. Turning, he made for the Captain's door, but before he had gone two steps, Jimmy O'Connor caught his arm.

"Hey Eddie, can I borrow your wheels for a half hour? My heap is in the shop and there's no cruiser spare. I gotta get down town for an appointment with the tooth wrecker."

He shoved a nicotine stained finger into the side of his mouth and dragged the lips into a sideways gape. Eddie took a quick glance into the depths and grimaced as Jimmy offered the gaping hole for closer inspection, then removed the finger. "Some serious drilling and blasting needed on a back molar."

Eddie hesitated for a second, the keys to his new imported phallic symbol halfway out of his pocket. Then he grinned and tossed Jimmy the keys.

"Sure thing Jimmy. She needs a good workout to blow the cobwebs out. But no fender benders hey? That heap of Brit iron set me back two hundred big ones." 

Jimmy caught the keys, his face aglow. He loved muscle cars, and as an ex pursuit driver, he knew just how to drive them to the limit. Eddie's 800 horse power $200,000 Aston Terminator was probably the nearest he could get to an orgasmic drive experience now that the department had grounded him. They seemed a mite pissed that he had parked his expensive pursuit car in the 4th floor of an office block after taking a wrong turn off an elevated section of the Interstate- 270 at a non-existent off-ramp. The nerds at head office didn't have a clue about the minor trials and tribulations of a pursuit officer. They seemed to overlook the good points, like the fact that it had parked in the 4th floor, in an empty office, and not dropped to the crowded street below.

Eddie watched as Jimmy vanished through the swing doors, and his grin grew wider as he muttered under his breath.

"And that's not the only thing that you'll be working out Jimmy boy, but then you'll never know, will you."

Inside the hot stifling trunk of the Aston Terminator, Claudine was puzzled over the early return of her husband as the car rocked. She strained against the super tight bands of steel compressing her into a ball, and her efforts stretched the all- encompassing latex sheathing as she bulged and rippled with the effort. The shaped purpose built cage was Eddie's latest idea for ensuring a quick installation. It was formed with high tensile steel flat-bar, rolled and welded to form a figure hugging inescapable prison that held her tightly compacted. A groan of pleasure seeped through the huge wadding filling her mouth as the massive invaders buried in her lower orifices shifted and reminded her of the fact that she was stuffed like a Christmas turkey.

A second later her whole being exploded into quivering trauma as massive electrical currents pulsed and zapped her from all angles. Screeching tyres and the smell of burnt rubber invaded the trunk, but Claudine could do nothing as she strained and heaved. Her dildos expanded to a mind-boggling, orifice busting size as air pumped in, whilst pulsed shocks contracted both her holes powerfully on the expanding masses of inflatable plastic.

Claudine's mind raced. Either Eddie was on an emergency call, or the car was being stolen.

Instantly her body convulsed violently as the thought ignited powerful masochistic fantasies. To be a helpless, compressed bundle of tormented womanhood at the mercy of a thief who didn't even know she was there, was the height of ecstasy. And just what would they do when they opened the trunk? In her fantasy she imagined that they would simply close the trunk and take the car on a high-speed highway trip without releasing her.

Eddie stared down from the window as the big coupe fishtailed down the road, and his grin widened as the lights and siren emerged from their hidden recesses and burst into life. Claudine was surely enjoying herself now. Every single electric gizmo on that car was wired to her helpless body in one way or another. He could imagine the trauma in that trunk as his hidden sweetheart was zapped on her tits, butt hole, pussy, and ass cheeks. The siren was another matter. Switch that on and her electrified dildo started to pump in and out. He'd never had the balls to switch all her devices on at the same time before, but the current driver had no idea what he was doing to her.

Had he been able to see into that trunk he would have seen a woman exploding with immensely powerful attempts to burst out of her steel confines. Claudine was a combined eruption of orgasming excess as she strained and pulsed with frantic efforts to escape the inescapable. Her pussy was in constant spasm. It had developed a mind of its own and was contracting and dilating powerfully around the dildo as she was electrically and mechanically fucked. Jimmy floored the pedal and unknowingly turned the hidden helpless woman into a violently erupting volcano of orchestrated sexual activity. The dentist was ten miles down the highway, and by the time he arrived, Claudine would be a drooling sexually exhausted wreck who could only endure as she contemplated the return journey 

"VALENSKI ---!"

A second foghorn blast from the Captain's office jerked Eddie back to reality. The door creaked and then sagged sideways as the top hinge gave way. The Captain's angry face grew a deeper shade of purple and he grabbed for a phone. Eddie sat himself down and frowned as the barrage of abusive language being directed at the precinct handyman rose to an all time high and then terminated with a loud crash. Surprisingly the handset survived yet another impact and Eddie idly wondered how many destruction tests the phone companies actually ran before releasing new models.

A thrown folder did a creditable Frisbee impression across the desk, dug a corner into his chest, and flopped into his lap. Eddie glanced down and inwardly groaned. It was a thick one. That meant only one thing. Everyone and his dog had tried to crack the case, and now it was being thrown his way.

Eddie started the standard protest even before he opened it, but a look from the Captain that said 'Shut the fuck up and read' killed the words before they could be uttered. He flipped the file open and began to read.

A second later he sat bolt upright, looked up and stared wide-eyed at the Captain. "He's back! The Napper he! But that's impossible! We blew the bastard! He er-committed suicide."

The Captain ignored the hastily corrected sentence. Ever since the Napper ended his career in a blast of exploding rocket propellant, he'd had his doubts about how it came to be. But that was water under the bridge. One less toe-rag to infest the streets. Although it seemed like this toe-rag had been reincarnated. He glowered at Eddie across the desk.

"The Feds have requested your ass to be in Seattle by tomorrow, or day after at the latest. Apparently the CIA is in on this as well. What the fuck they want a burned out dead-beat cop like you for beats me."

Eddie resisted replying to the taunt and answered in a sort of off-hand way as he flipped through the file.

"They want me because this guy is a copy-cat by the look of it, and I know more about the Napper and his modus operandi than anyone alive." Eddie whistled quietly as he read on and mentally added up the disappearances attributed to this new super crook.

"Shit! Twenty-seven in eight weeks? This guy is good. Really good! But tell me, why Seattle? The spread is even and covers the entire USA. Seems like he was on holiday same as me." Eddie had just returned from sick leave after an injury and had used the time touring. The Captain threw him a note in a plastic evidence bag by way of reply.

"Because Eddie, he's told us where the next one will be, and he's challenged you personally, to try and catch him." Eddie dropped the sheaf of photos that showed images of the stunning female kidnapping victims, all in their 20's, and picked up the exhibit. The Captain sat back and waited for comment. When it came, it probably wasn't the comment he wanted or expected.

"Get someone else Cap'. I'm not getting involved with this screwball. I've had my fill of these Joker, Penguin, Batman style super shits. Choose another dickhead. Last time my chick nearly got her clit elongated to about 500 miles long, and Cassidy ended up as a bike park with her electrified tits and butt set in concrete."

Eddie was already rising and the closed folder was thumping down as the Captain played his ace in the hole.

"Cassidy is the next target, Eddie. She didn't resign the department after all, but she did transfer to Seattle. This new Napper named her as the target. We got her holed up in her apartment with a couple of dozen cops around the place. We ain't taking any chances this time Eddie. This time we'll nail the turd who tries to snatch her before she ends up with a bike up the cleft of her ass."

Eddie glowered at the Captain then retrieved the folder.

"You asshole. You know I owe it to Cassidy after the last fuck-up." The Captain grinned widely.

"Don't you just hate it when someone has you by the balls Eddie?" His grin vanished in an instant as he reverted to type. "Now get your ass to Seattle. I want this sick prick caged."


CHAPTER TWO-CASSIDY IN TROUBLE

Cassidy jumped as a knock sounded at the door. Her hand hefted the Colt Python out of her hip holster in a smooth well-practiced draw, and she approached the door with the cannon ready for action. A through-door video surveillance camera showed the caller and, relaxing, she holstered the gun. The camera wasn't a recording type system that she had hoped to get installed, but it did at least show her who was out there without the normal blind spots of door peepholes. 

Cassidy put on her best stern face and prepared to give her unexpected caller a hard time, although in fact she was pleased to see him. Two locks and a safety chain later the door swung open.

For a second Cassidy maintained the stern look; then it melted instantly into one of total disbelief as she snatched for the holstered cannon. Her hand never even reached the butt. A speeding taser dart hit her squarely between the tits and her body convulsed as a massive stun charge scrambled her nervous system.

Barely conscious and unable to move, Cassidy inwardly fumed as her attacker dragged her further into the apartment, retrieved a holdall from the hallway and closed the door.

Within minutes her mouth was packed to bursting with a pump up ball gag that also included a complete head harness to keep it in place. A multi-strapped and pre-formed harness came next. Her clothing was left on. Luckily she was wearing tight workout clothes and apparently the Napper decided it wasn't going to interfere with her bonds.

Cassidy grunted as the straps drew taut and she was compressed into a tight hog- tie with her heels deeply indenting her buttock cheeks. Her shoulders were on fire with stress pain as her elbows scrunched together. Movement was returning to her limbs as the taser wore off, but it was too late to prevent the advancing tide of a multitude of straps steadily cinching and caging her form in an inescapable cocoon of leather bands.

She strained and twisted, but to no avail. Her captor simply notched everything tighter. Cassidy's mind searched for an out, and then with a flash of new hope, she realised that the Napper still had to get her past some twenty or thirty police officers who were guarding every exit from the building. That included the subterranean cable ducts and sewers. The entire building was sealed as tight as a drum. It seemed the new Napper had fucked up big time this time and walked straight into the trap.

A shadow fell across her fettered form as the Napper completed his task. Cassidy turned to the source and her heart sank as she stared through the window.

"Fuck it! How the hell could they all have been so fucking stupid as to miss that avenue of escape?"

Image 1

Cassidy began a frantic effort to escape as the spectre of a return to an existence as a concrete encased utility item loomed before her. Napper laughed and merely spent another ten minutes wrapping her incapacitated form in dozens of layers of cling film.

The captive's face grew purple as the pressure increased and she was steadily reduced to an unmoving blob of womanhood. Her face achieved an even darker hue as two more figures entered the room from another direction and she briefly wondered where the fuck they had come from, then she heard her captor handing his bundle over for removal. Unable to even twitch, Cassidy fumed and raged as a person she had trusted turned and waved mockingly as he left her to be carted away like a piece of merchandise.


CHAPTER 3 - FRUSTRATION

Tired and sore from the three-day drive from Oklahoma City, Eddie swung the Terminator into a vacant lot opposite Cassidy's apartment building and rolled the window down. Without looking he dumped the soggy remains of a well chewed cigar out the window, and then turned his head as the sky went dark and a menacing presence made itself felt. His eyes alighted on a pair of highly polished boots, now adorned with a smouldering cigar butt that was wrecking the many hours of work it had taken to layer polish on the toe caps.

He allowed his eyes to wander upward, past the immaculate breeches and tunic and on towards the mirror shades of the biggest motorcycle cop he'd ever seen. The guy was a uniformed grizzly bear, and clearly he wasn't impressed. Eddie could tell; he'd always been very astute in that respect. The way the guy was fingering the butt of his .458 Wetherby Magnum and willing Eddie to make a wrong move made it pretty clear that he was pissed off.

Eddie made a halfhearted apologetic gesture and dragged out his ID and badge. The grizzly took it, studied it at length, and then handed it back. With a deft flick of his boot he lofted the smouldering cigar butt, which arched gracefully into the open window, over Eddie's lap, and landed on the expensive leather of his passenger seat.

Hmm! Obviously an ex footballer, he thought, as the shower of sparks sent Eddie into a frantic fire fight mode.

Image 2

"Lieutenant Grissom is over there. Shift the heap as soon as you're done. We're keeping all these bays clear until this is over with. No parking close to the apartment for security reasons. If it ain't outta here in fifteen minutes I'll have it towed to the pound...on it's roof," he added as he moved away.

"Welcome to Seattle, Mr Valenski; and fuck you too!" Eddie muttered. The 'shades' swung around and fixed him with a baleful glare, but Eddie played innocent and ignored it.

The lieutenant in charge proved a mite more hospitable and greeted him with a handshake.

"Ah! At last. Someone who knows how this asshole operates. Welcome to Seattle, Eddie. I'm Al Grissom, lieutenant in charge of this circus. How was the!" The last words were drowned out as someone on the adjacent building site started up with a jack hammer. The lieutenant gripped Eddie's shoulder and moved him a way to the relative quiet of a parked police incident trailer.

"So how was the trip?" Eddie looked up as the Sun was momentarily blotted out for the second time and noticed the construction crane swinging a huge concrete hopper directly above his head as it fed material to the upper floors of a new skyscraper.

"Not bad. Long and hot. The usual crop of morons trying to commit autocide. So what's the low down? Any signs of an attempt yet?"

The lieutenant shook his head.

"Nada! Zilch! Nothing at all. I think this is a hoax to draw you away from the real target. I reckon this Napper guy is-!" His sentence was cut short as all hell broke loose over by the apartment. Eddie and the lieutenant galvanised into action and raced to the entrance as an officer ran out.

"Lieutenant, she's gone. The bastard took her from right under our noses." He handed a note to the lieutenant and Eddie read it over his shoulder.

Thanks Lunkheads. Nice Party. Gave me some fun figuring how to show the public how stupid you all are. By the time you read this, Cassidy is already on her way to becoming a public utility item. Rest assured, she won't get bored, or at least, not in the metorphorical sense.

It was signed 'Son of Napper'.

"SHIT! Son of a bitch. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Eddie ranted for a good three minutes before he controlled his rage and started to think. The lieutenant was already on the case, and Eddie watched as he directed the teams to search the building from top to bottom. Dog teams were already heading for the apartments, and Eddie followed them in with the lieutenant in close proximity. Cars were flying in all directions as roadblocks were set up in a tight impenetrable perimeter. 

The elevator whisked them to the 34th floor and as they stepped out on to the landing, they walked into a scene of total pandemonium. Cops were everywhere, all seemingly hell bent on shifting blame. Suddenly one stopped and pointed directly at Eddie.

"That's him! That's the Napper. Freeze asshole!"

The hallway echoed with the sound of hardware being cocked, and Eddie suddenly found himself surrounded by a forest of black gaping muzzles and determined faces. Gun oil and sweat seemed to be the 'in' perfume around here.

The lieutenant intervened.

"Hold it. Hold it! Back off. Put your iron away guys. This is Eddie Valenski from Oklahoma. He's on the case. He's a cop, and he only just arrived here." 

All but the original accuser holstered. He remained steadfast and although lowering the gun slightly, he argued the point.

"I'm telling you guys, this is the guy who flashed a badge and went up to Cassidy's apartment just before she went AWOL. I was as close as we are now. "This is the guy! He had a hold-all with him and told me he'd collected some of Cassidy's clothes from the dry cleaner."

The surrounding cops were all eyeing Eddie with mistrust, and even the Captain was wavering, when a shout from further along the hallway attracted their attention.

"Hey, Lieutenant! Look what I found." A cop stood up with a lank piece of pink rubber dangling from a pencil. At first no one could make it out, but then as others offered pencils and pens to spread the thing out without actually touching it, the reality of what it was became clear. It was a form fitting latex facemask. The important fact was that it revealed a recognisable image of Eddie Valenski, accurate even to the small scar on his cheek, even without being stretched over a face.

The Al Grissom turned to Eddie.

"This prick is either trying to be the Joker, or he's trying to set you up, Eddie. I he hadn't dropped this, you would be in serious shit trying to explain." Eddie nodded thoughtfully and watched as the dogs sniffed at the mask. It was strange. They didn't seem interested at all, and they were certainly not hankering to rush off on a hot trail of scent. In fact one sauntered over to Eddie, sniffed him, and began licking his hand. A second later it decided that Eddie's left leg was definitely a bitch on heat and acted accordingly. Eddie shook the humping dog off with some difficulty. Obviously his leg bore a close resemblance to the dog equivalent of Pamela Anderson, and the rutting fleabag didn't give up easily.

"You guys actually feed this mutt and keep him as a tracker, or is he the precinct's resident rapist?"

Eddie's comment went down like a lead brick with the dog handler who retorted gruffly.

"Whoever used this thing must have sprayed some sort of scent masking agent on it. Ralph is one of our best dogs."

Eddie must have looked skeptical. To his mind the horny, hand licking leg fucker, was a dog shit manufacturing machine with an insatiable appetite and a serious sexual disorder.

"No offense intended, buddy, but your mutt is hardly much use to us right now." The dog handler scowled and pulled his dog away.

Impatiently the lieutenant and Eddie waited for the search reports. The original thirty officers, and now another twenty-five pulled from the streets, were ripping the place apart. An hour later they had nothing to show for it. No evidence, no eyewitness reports of anything that even closely resembled a woman being smuggled out down either stairwells or elevators. No furniture moving out that could contain a woman. No one spotted being lowered down the outside. It seemed that both Cassidy and her abductors had 'beamed out'.

The police and sensors previously placed in the ducts and sewers came up with nothing. Not even a rat was moving down there, but that was probably because they had all been crushed to death by the invasion of huge cop feet into what was normally a safe environment.

Eddie knew that any further searches would be fruitless and he took the elevator down to the ground floor. Forensics would probably come up with nothing. Whoever this new Napper was, the guy knew police techniques like the back of his hand. Deep in thought he walked out of the building and headed for his car. Cassidy was long gone.

He cursed loudly, then hurriedly took a step backward as a concrete mixer truck swung out of the building site and narrowly missed turning him into strawberry jam. He glimpsed an unshaven face bad mouthing him in the cab and flipped the guy a stiff finger in response.

Prick! Couldn't the moron see he was busy thinking and make allowances? The truck assaulted his ears with an air-horn recital of 'fuck you asshole' in C-minor and vanished in a cloud of dust.

Eddie climbed into the Aston and slumped in the seat. Resigned to the inevitable he picked up the phone and dialed long distance.

"Cap', Eddie here! We got a problem." He paused and waited as the distant Captain put him on hold and moved into the privacy of his office with the cell phone. The distant Captain gave him the all clear.

"We fucked up again. Cassidy's gone. The new Napper took her ten minutes after I got here."

Eddie grimaced and held the phone away from his ear as it exploded with sound. Several minutes later he plucked up courage and tentatively moved it back to his ear as the sound output abated fractionally.

"For fuck's sake Cap', I'd just got out of my damned car when this asshole beams her up with a Trekkie beamer by the looks of it. Yep! No nothing! No trace! Not a damned thing. The guy is a regular fucking Spock. Now get this, the Napper tried to frame me with the snatch." He paused as the Cap' fired more questions and then replied, "well we got a note, and forensics are running it now, but we don't expect much. This guy even managed to erase his scent. Mind you I reckon that sniffer hound couldn't find a fucking whore in a brothel and decided that humping my leg was more fun."

The lieutenant walked up as Eddie was in the middle of another pause, but he stayed to listen as Eddie answered.

"Hey Cap', I'm telling you, this one smells bad. I'm convinced we got either a bent cop here, or an ex cop. It was too slick. This guy knew all our moves first. My gut feel is he's either in the department, or has seen the old Napper files." Eddie caught the raising eyebrows in his peripheral vision and turned to face the inquiring eyes of the lieutenant as he flipped the phone off. The lieutenant leaned in through the window.

"That a wild hunch Eddie, or have you got something to go on?"

Eddie said nothing for a second as he fished out a bent cheroot, then replied.

"It's a hunch, but not a wild one. I feel it in my bones. This guy is a cop." He looked up and answered the next question before it was uttered. "In the Oklahoma PD! This guy knows the case history, and he knows me."

The cheroot burst into bonfire mode as he applied a match, and the lieutenant hauled his head back from the window in a violent coughing bout as he was engulfed in a cloud of swirling toxic fumes. Eddie ignored his obvious distaste for contraband Cuban tobacco and drew heavily on the obnoxious weed. After allowing the intake to put a fresh coat of tar on his lungs, he continued.

"It's highly probable he also knew Cassidy. There was no struggle up there at all. That mask wouldn't have fooled her for a second once she got the door open, so whoever it was, she accepted as playing a joke even when she knew it wasn't me. Cassidy knows who took her, or else that room would have been trashed. At the very least there would have been signs of a struggle or something around the door."

Eddie was of course missing the obvious. A taser, or something similar that was capable of instant disablement. But as it happened, his hypothesis on the possible culprit was right, albeit for all the wrong reasons.

The lieutenant was silent in thought, and Eddie's thoughts went out to Cassidy, wherever she was. For a minute or two the pair of them watched the frenzy of police activity, and then Eddie fired up the Terminator.

"Backatcha later lieutenant. I'm just going to check out some hunches, contact a few friends and get some feelers going out there. I made a few useful contacts when I was up here recently on holiday." As his hand moved to the shift, the lieutenant braved the cloud of nicotine death, reached into the window and put a hand on his shoulder.

"No private investigations Eddie. I know you got a vested interest here, but if I think this is turning into a private witch hunt I'll pull yer badge and dump you on the next red-eye south." Eddie grinned and gunned the motor with a couple of throttle blips.

"Gotcha lieutenant. Understood. Now are you gonna let me get the fuck outta here right now, or do you want me to spend all fucking day talking to the palookas coming up behind ya?" The lieutenant, a pro at the cop game, resisted turning his head and shifted so as to use Eddie's side mirror.

"Ha! Agent Klutz of the F.B.I and I-Spy Ditz from the CIA. Fuck off Eddie, I'll keep them off your back as long as I can."

Eddie grinned. He was beginning to like the lieutenant more with every passing minute.

"I owe you one lieutenant. I already got access to all their files, so I don't need them klutzing up the show with grandstand plays."

The lieutenant nodded, then stepped quickly backwards as local air pollution took on a whole new meaning. Eddie added a half inch of vaporised Goodyear rubber to the cloud of tobacco smoke as he gunned the 800 horsepower turbine and wheelied the Aston down the street. The lieutenant shook his head and then grinned as a grizzly sized speed cop immerged from the acrid fog of rubber smoke with murder etched on his face as he moved urgently towards his bike. The lieutenant held up a restraining hand and told him to forget it. But it was hard not to burst out laughing as he noticed the tyre marks across the state trooper's ruined toe caps.


CHAPTER FOUR-CASSIDY IS PREPARED

Cassidy at that precise moment, was battling to remain calm as her body was subjected to enormous forces of shifting compression and movement. The movement was some sort of slow rotating motion, whilst the pressure seemed to be some sort of constantly shifting fluid that was heavy and extremely dense. She had figured out in her mind her removal from the room and the apartment block. After that, and the addition of a hood and some sort of breathing apparatus, things had become a blur of unreality and sensation that she was unable to decipher. The fluid was buffeting her with hundreds of prodding hard nodules that was not unlike hundreds of poking fingers. But that was not all. In each sensed rotation, she felt her cocooned body thumping against something hard in the heavy liquid medium. For the first time since she had escaped from the original Napper, she felt that numbing fear of complete helplessness.

The journey was only a beginning. Little more than an hour later, Cassidy, sick with motion sickness, and driven almost insane by the constant buffeting, hardly noticed as the rolling motion stopped. Her first thought that something had changed came as her body was grappled by some sort of clamp and drawn out of the heavy goo she was engulfed by.

She felt the hardness of a stone floor, and then a powerful daggering sensation that sought out every inch of her body. Quickly she realised she was being hosed off with a powerful jet of water. The cling film fell away, and her body expanded with relief as the awesome crushing embrace was finally removed.

Light impinged on Cassidy's retina. Sight came shortly thereafter as her headgear was removed. For almost a minute, Cassidy was blind as searing overhead lights burned into unaccustomed eyes, but eventually she began to make out her surroundings.

All around were shapes and columns, grey in texture, and clearly of either cement or some other stone-like medium. Further afield she could see fibreglass moulds similar in shape to the various column shapes, but with their smoothness of line altered by the external bolts and clamps required to join split mould sections together.

She didn't have a chance to study the place further. It seemed that her abductors were ready to continue with whatever lay in store for her.

Her hog-tied form was unceremoniously hoisted and partially dragged across the room to what appeared to be an operating table. Three men lofted her struggling form and with a thump that knocked the breath from her body, she was dumped tits down. The generously bulbous mass of her chest hardware absorbed some of the impact, but not without cost. It hurts when a 150-pound woman is bounced on her tits. Cassidy ommmphed loudly as she did a full frontal landing.

Her ankles were released from the hog-tie and she thrashed her powerful lithe legs as an opportunity to fight back was presented. It didn't last. Strong hands gripped her ankles whilst the third guy held her down at the neck as her legs were spread. A powerful clamping sensation made itself felt on her ankles and steel fetters clamped the limbs in a wide spread and vulnerable splits position. Cassidy reddened with embarrassment as she heard them discussing her butt hole and the inviting cleft mound of her mons. A hand slapped her upward thrusting bottom contemptuously, and the men laughed as her buttocks jostled with the stinging blow.

Asshole number three, currently employed as the neck holder, wanted to see for himself. Steel hinged down and encircled her neck as a neck clamp snapped shut. Cassidy, still arm-sheathed, was held face down and completely helpless as the abductors investigated her crotch region at their leisure.

Seething with anger and embarrassment, Cassidy strained and writhed as her lower orifices were subjected to a thorough finger reaming that only abated when the sound of footsteps approaching heralded another arrival.

She couldn't strain her head far enough up with the neck clamp to see a face, but the shoes told her it was the same guy who had tasered her at the apartment. There was no mistaking those scuffed neglected casuals. Her sounds of fury and betrayal were reduced to noisy dribbles as she sputtered drool around the gag. The feet vanished from her field of view, and seconds later she clenched her buttocks as the hands of her betrayer gripped and kneaded her rump like play- dough. She heard him giving instructions, and felt yet more steel banding going over her waist and upper thighs. Ratchets clicked and she was crushed even more tightly to the table. Something moved beneath her squashed tits, and a section slid aside to reveal two holes in the tabletop. Her abused, pressure- flattened breasts needed no encouragement to drop through and hang. A hiss of air sounded. Cassidy strained against the bands, as an inflatable collar installed around each of the openings expanded and gripped the roots of her tits tightly, squeezing and crushing them until the pendant-free section was formed into a pair of hard, spherical balls tipped with purple nipples. Even without the neckband, the tit gripper was so tight as to make sure she would remain face down. There was no way she could ever pull her tits out of those inflated orifices without ripping them off.

The asshole with the shoes was laughing. Obviously the ratfink was really enjoying seeing her reduced to complete usability. Cassidy endured as another uneasy thought crossed her mind. She knew her abductor. There was no way she could ever be allowed to go free without this asshole either facing the death penalty, or depending in which state they were in, at least 25 to life in the Pen'. Kidnapping, with or without an eventual murder, attracted the ultimate penalties in most states and had since the year 2001.

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It was a chilling thought. Cassidy knew that she needed a miracle to avoid either being eventually killed, or shipped off to some foreign parts to spend her life as the sex toy of some rich asshole. But that was the least of her problems at this precise instant.

The breath snorted from her nostrils as something the size of a trench digger was thrust into her tight, protesting butt hole. She arched violently against the clamp bands, and experienced a daggering pain in her tits as the effort almost ripped them off at the roots. A second attempt was not forthcoming. Cassidy tensed herself and screwed her eyes shut as she tried to absorb the massive invader and cope with the pain of a stretched protesting sphincter muscle. Whatever it was, it was going in deep. To her estimation it went in about ten feet, but in fact she knew it to be about ten inches. Whatever, the damned thing was seriously deep into her body. There was a ratcheting feeling and a sensation of movement. A second later she felt her sphincter squeezed between two flanges, one inside and one outside, a sort of clamp arrangement that was inexorably clamping her butt ring to the dildo in a hermetic seal.

Slowly, maddeningly slowly, the pain subsided as her rectum relaxed and gradually accepted the new massively dilated format. Cassidy strained and tried to expel the monster, but it hurt her sensitive, compressed sphincter and she quickly came to the conclusion that she was well plugged and sealed. Her ass was well-clamped shut and strangely she found herself contemplating the image of her rear end plumbed in like a kitchen sink. She could feel the men attaching things to the insert, but could only guess at the reason or function of the attachments at this stage. But Cassidy had no doubt it would not be long before she became and expert on the finer points of her new inner hardware.

"Hummmmph!" HHHHHHHHHHHHrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"
 
OK, so that was one function. Cassidy strained valiantly as warm liquid rushed into her lower colon and pumped her full. Would it never stop? She could hear the men laughing above the sounds of her gagged protest as her entire lower abdomen became hard and distended with the continuing inrush of liquid. Cassidy could feel the pressure building and her clamped ass ring bulging outward. She thrashed frantically against the immovable constraints, but they just kept inflating her like a toy balloon. Meanwhile, Napper simply stood and mauled her butt with complete immunity from her protests. Her ample, curvaceous rump was his to do with as he wished. A fingernail tapped at the taut quivering flesh of her erupting ass ring and another hand felt her distended stomach.

"Okay, that's enough. Any more and she'll burst. Although I like to see this bitch well pumped up, I don't want the place to need decorating when she pops. Switch over to clean out mode."

"Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrh!"

Function two was hardly any better. The butt-reaming shaft was a combined pump and vacuum device. No sooner had Cassidy been filled to bursting, than the mole reversed action and sucked her out like a giant vacuum cleaner. At first it was a relief, but the relief of evacuation was short lived. Within a second or two bodily wastes and all the fluid pumped into her were gone. The implosion of her internal organs and a serious attempt for them to also exit via the tube was a very unpleasant sensation.

For ten minutes, Cassidy endured as she was repeatedly pumped up and sucked out. Eventually Napper gave up his butt fondling and intervened.

"OK guys. That'll do. Now fit her up with the other insert."

Cassidy felt her pussy convulse with a violent contraction, and it had nothing to do with orgasm. Given the size of the anal version, she had no illusions that her frontal passage would be endowed with a demure pencil sized insert. Visions of a plastic Graf Zeppelin thundering up her love channel turned out to be only slightly exaggerated.

"Ummmmph!"

OK so it wasn't Graf Zeppelin, but it sure as hell was a close second to the Goodyear blimp. Cassidy's eyes bulged as someone behind her used both arms to jam a monolithic dildo into her protesting pussy. It was another ten footer by the feel of it, and she was convinced that the next push would shove the gag right out of her mouth.

Her limbs strained powerfully at the securing bands, but it availed her nothing other than jeers of derision from the onlookers. Then Napper's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Okay! Leave her plugged for the day, it will give her time to get used to the feeling." She heard him chuckle. "Best she gets used to it, she'll be plugged for a long time once we set her up in the final format. Might as well leave the ass dildo on auto. That'll give her something to think about. But if anyone feels like a bit of sport, be my guest. Just plug her up and switch her back on when you're done."

Cassidy heard the voices fade as she was left to acclimatise to the massive pussy invader. It was a very short acclimatization because a few moments later the ass dildo began to pump her up again. Napper had left her on continuous cycle and for the rest of the day she would be enduring the constant reversals of an unfeeling machine.

For an hour or more she begged and pleaded through the tight gagging as she was constantly pressurised and vacuumed, but there was no one to hear her pleas.


CHAPTER FIVE - INCRIMINATING EVIDENCE

Eddie eased the Terminator through Seattle's standard crawl of traffic. These days the I-5 Interstate was jokingly referred to as the longest car park in the world. It still had a way to go to take the title from London's orbital M-25 as the largest 'volume wise' but the average American motorist was not one to be outdone by anyone for long. Every day was adding 2000 cars to the roads. Pretty soon Eddie figured he might trade the Terminator in for a push bike. It wasn't much use owning a gas-guzzling car capable of 200 mph plus when you couldn't get the thing out of first gear.

The stub of his last cheroot ricochetted off the side window of a car alongside, and almost subconsciously he returned the muffled tirade from the occupant with a stiff finger salute, then turned his hand palm out to reveal his badge held under the downturn of his other fingers.

Something was seriously wrong with the whole reincarnation of the Napper. Napper died in that rocket silo, of that he had no doubt. The charred pieces recovered by forensics added up to Napper. This had to be a copycat Napper. But how the hell did the guy get such detailed information? The alternatives didn't make sense.

The Terminator's fax link buzzed urgently, and Eddie waited impatiently as the paper scrolled out.

Bad news. The Captain's computer log search revealed that the Napper files had not been accessed, either legally or illegally, by anyone other than Eddie with the exception of the F.B.I since the case was closed. The F.B.I had only horned in weeks after the first disappearances. Apart from that they showed total inactivity for eleven months.

It had to be prior to that, or they had a really clever hacker who was able to circumnavigate the security system. Eddie opted for the prior. Someone; and it had to be within the department who was possibly working on the case at that time, had either copied files, or was so deeply involved in the manhunt that they already knew.

It was a daunting thought. All of that team were his best friends. Guys and chicks he had worked with for years, and none of them the type to be involved in any scam or payoff. Yet one of them had to be bent.

Idly Eddie's hand went up to the indent in his skull and fingered the scar that was itching. It was a fresh scar gained only a couple of months ago when a bust went wrong. Two feet of lead pipe in the hands of a rabid drug pusher had split his head like a melon. The resultant fracture left him comatose and suffering massive concussion, but being the thick skulled knot-head that he was, Eddie finally came back to the world with the mother of all headaches. The pusher who gave him the ache was lucky. He'd probably get better medical attention in the State Penitentiary, and he was safe from Eddie's wrath for the next 25 years. 

The annoying tinnitus and a dull headache that was a lingering legacy of the concussion impinged on his thoughts, but he thrust it away and tried to concentrate. 

An hour and 100 yards later Eddie finally reached the Swale Street off ramp and swung out of the 1-5 jam into the city car park known as Seattle. As he waited at the first lights, the Terminator's secure police phone chirped.

"Valenski. What do you want?" The Captain's voice sounded momentarily annoyed at Eddie's answering style, but he passed on comment.

"Napper Two is cranking up the pressure, Eddie. We've just discovered that he took another chick from down here before you left that we didn't pick up on until she never arrived back from holiday two days ago, and another up there in Seattle just before you rolled into town. That makes thirty so far.

"The chick down here has a connection to the old case. It was the prosecuting attorney's daughter again. Goddammit! That poor woman has certainly had her share of this bondage nut by now." There was a pause as the Captain rustled through some papers. "So far we can't find any connections to the one up there. The lieutenant is on the case, he's waiting for you at the scene of another possible at, er, 2499 7th Street Capitol Hill district. Get your ass over there pronto." 

Eddie just caught him before the phone hung up.

"How do you know for sure this attorney chick was a Napper victim, Captain? I mean, it could have been any one of a gazillion kooks and shitheads wandering around down there."

More paper rustled.

"Because I'm staring at a goddammed picture of the woman trussed up like a chicken with you standing alongside her wearing a shit eating grin." Eddie did a double take.

"Huh? Me?"

"Don't get yer ass hairs in a knot Valenski. We know the turd was wearing a latex mask, don't we? Pretty stupid effort to incriminate you in my book. I mean, who the fuck would leave a picture of themselves at the scene to incriminate themselves? Gimme credit for a brain, will ya! Now get yer ass to that new scene and don't spare the horses on that fucking Limey road rocket of yours." 

Eddie slammed the phone down, hit the 'banshee button' then sat fuming as nothing moved. Quite frankly he felt a bit stupid sitting in a car that was gridlocked and going berserk with flashing lights and wailing sirens. But what the fuck, he was pissed at the traffic so he may as well piss everyone else off. His hand thumped down on the twin air-horn with anger then he turned to face the sea of staring and glaring eyes, daring anyone with a death wish to make even the slightest gesture. No one took him up on the unspoken challenge. Pity! He was really pissed off and looking for someone to kick the shit out of. Strangely, he had no real idea why he was so irritable all the time.

It took two hours to cover the ten blocks, but finally he rolled to a stop in the crush of police cruisers at 2499 7th. Eddie prised himself out of the bucket seat and slammed the door. A slight noise caused him to pause and turn as he was moving away. He could have sworn that the Terminator moved, but then he shrugged. Claudine was back home in the safe hands of an expert bondage Dom whilst he was away. She was probably trussed up tight and being totally used and abused at this time, no doubt enjoying every minute of it.

Image 4

It must have been a stuck shock settling. The beast probably needed a service.

Shit! Spares for that Aston Terminator weren't cheap. A new imported shock was going to set him back at least $1000.

The Al Grissom was waiting for him. A swift helicopter from downtown Seattle solved traffic problems instantly. Being a lieutenant had its uses when it came to commandeering the local traffic report chopper from KYPX radio.

"What's the scoop lieutenant?" Al handed over a report sheet for him to read but proceeded to reel off the facts from memory.

"Margaret Mulrooney, Irish immigrant, 28 years old, a total looker. Works for an architectural consultant outfit. Big Kahuna's in the business, Cornwall, Hughes & Bennet, Inc. They do interstate stuff on all the federal buildings and the like. She was originally a design office clerk, but a few months ago they upgraded her to inspections. Apart from that, no leads, no connections, no nothing, other than Napper's snotty letter pinned to a pair of her panties they found nailed to the bedroom door. The first guys in said the panties were still warm." He paused a second as a thought occurred to him. "Huh! Must have a fucking panty sniffer in the department." The lieutenant shook off the thought and returned to the matter in hand. "Napper must have stripped her before he took her out. We didn't get to hear about this until after the kafuffle over Cassidy. Guess the local guys figured we had enough problems at the time. It seems she was taken about thirty minutes to one hour before you showed up at the Cassidy stake out." 

Eddie reached out and took the offered polythene evidence bag. The panties were in there, as was the note. His eyes narrowed as he read.

31 down, only another 69 to go for this quota. Maybe I'll add a few of my own to the shipment just for the hell of it.

It was signed E.V.

The flesh crawled on Eddie's neck as he re-read the words 'add a few of my own'. Then he spun on his heel and raced back to the car where he wrenched the police secure phone from its cradle.

"Cap! Eddie! Don't ask questions, just get a team to Apartment 12 8623 Addison West, corner of 16th South. I think this bastard is going after Claudine and her friend." The Captain didn't even answer, but Eddie could hear him shouting orders.

"Move yer asses. Napper is going for Eddie's missus." There was a sound of curses and scraping chairs amidst retreating footsteps. Then the Captain was back on the line.

"Don't worry Eddie. I just sent three cars from here, and Sergeant Hicks in dispatch is calling in the 8th Precinct boys. They're closer, they can get there before us. So now tell me how you know. What the hell is going on?"

Eddie calmed down a touch and answered.

"He left a note Cap. It said 'maybe I'll add a few of my own to the shipment. If he is posing as me, a few of my own means women I know." The Captain grunted. "Seems logical. Stay by the horn and I'll bell you the moment I hear something. Meantime, get what you can up there, there is nothing you can do at this end until the guys get there and see what the score is."

"Okay Cap, I'll get right on it. You guys look after my girl down there, I'll get back to you if anything comes up on this end."

He put the phone down, flopped back into the seat with a sigh of resignation at his impotency to do anything about events 1500 miles away and then hauled his ass out of the car. As an afterthought he switched the phone to remote and slipped the handset in his pocket.

Back in the apartment he joined the lieutenant in surveying the room for any clues. Empty cardboard rolls lay everywhere, and scooping one up, Eddie checked the manufacturers name. 4M, a well-known tape producer.

"The product number was checked out, Eddie. It's rubber vulcanising tape. They sell it everywhere. Electricians use it for making temporary-waterproof joints. It seems you stretch the stuff on as you apply it, and then it fuses to itself and shrinks. Not much chance of a lead there, in this city alone there are over 160 places that stock it.

"Those big brown rolls in the corner were plastic shrink wrap, about a hundred yards in all if they were full, and the boxes here still have a few of those plastic cable ties left. My guess is that this chick was pretty well gift wrapped by the time he moved her out."

Eddie nodded.

"He used the ties for her hands and feet, then shrink wrapped her, then vulcanised her, and probably added more cable ties over the top from top to bottom. My guess is he mummified her for transport. Look, that one roll over there that is different. That's Microfoam tape. He used that to gag her. The roll holds 50 feet, and that stuff sticks like shit to a blanket. She certainly wouldn't be making any noise, and for some reason I get the feeling he was really pissed at her. That would be a very uncomfortable way to secure anyone, and very claustrophobic." 

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow and cast an enquiring look in his direction. Eddie caught it, flushed slightly and then came up with a creditable answer. 

"I know his style, lieutenant. I've seen his work before, remember?" Al looked relieved and went back to his search as Eddie took a deep breath. Napper never used that system to his knowledge, but Eddie Valenski had, many times, on the delectable figure of his beloved Claudine. This asshole seemed to be able to reach deep into his mind and use personal things only he and Claudine knew. 

Suddenly the remote phone chirped and he snatched it out of his pocket. 

"Cap, you got news?" Al Grissom watched as Eddie's face drained of colour. 

"Shit! How long ago?" Stone faced, Eddie stood and listened then quietly put the phone away. He turned to face Al but for a time was unable to say anything. His face was a mixture of fear and almost uncontrollable rage.

"Napper took my wife and her friend." Al watched Eddie's fists clench as he struggled to control the anger.

"According to the Captain, all the signs are that they went missing about two days ago, either just before or just after I left Oklahoma. That means the asshole has had two days to move them undercover and do what he wants with them."

For a time both men just stood silently, and when a cop entered the room, the lieutenant waved him back out. Valenski was hardly in the mood to tolerate any interruptions right now.

"Eddie, it may be the break we need, but you are so pissed right now you ain't thinking straight. The fact that this prick is trying to frame you forces him to always be in your vicinity. If you are provably a gazillion miles away the whole crappy sham falls apart. Wherever you go, he has to go to maintain the sham.

That is as sure as hell a real serious crack in the planning. It gives us the edge to try and out-think the guy and even lead him on by planning where and when you go anywhere. Basically we can lead the creep into our neck of the woods and then nail his sick ass."

Eddie closed his eyes and shut out the images of what Claudine might be enduring and then concentrated.

"You're right Al. Maybe we can nail this sick fucko quick and easy." His hand went up to the itching scar on his head, and then remembering the doc's instructions to let it heal he resisted the urge to scratch and contented himself with smoothing his hair down. The lieutenant continued.

"Well right now there's not much we can do here that forensics can't do, so I suppose we should get back to the precinct and start figuring out a plan. I've allocated an office for you on my floor."

Eddie nodded. "Okay. I'll see you back there in a couple of hours. I have a few things to do, I'll check out my holiday contacts and see if they heard anything on the streets yet. It's been a while since I put the word out. Besides, I'd better get some aspirin for this damned headache. It's getting worse."


CHAPTER SIX-MORE BOUND NAPPER FODDER

Cassidy strained her ears to a new sound, and faintly past the edges of her blindfold she perceived bright light. There was a rattling sound and she instantly recognised it as a rising roller-shutter door. A few seconds later she heard the whine of a turbine car backing in. Obviously it was an expensive heap. Nothing below a price tag of $400,000 used a turbine engine. They were reserved for the rich, whilst the average Joe still had to putter around with the old piston engines. 

The door rattled down and she heard someone get out of a car.

Napper strolled over to the offered women and checked that she was still well bound. Fingers invaded her pussy, and with a snigger Napper remarked on her wetness.

"Looks like you've been well fucked whilst I was away sweet buns."

Indeed she had. Either the place had something like thirty or forty workers, or else they were all horny, greedy bastards with nothing but multiple fucks on their brains and hard dicks the size of large frankfurters. Secretly Cassidy mentally vowed never to stick another one of those German sausages into her body ever again, from either end. Since Napper had left her there, her offered rear end had not suffered from lack of attention. Persons unknown removed the pump device about an hour after installation. Since then her beleaguered orifices endured constant thrusting male appendages, both crotch mounted and those mounted on hands as fingers reamed her.

Napper slapped her ass and moved back to the car. A remote flipped up the trunk lid, and he gazed down at the contents with obvious relish.

Three women, bound, gagged, one mummified in rubber, and all contorted into tight bundles of helpless womanhood were jammed tightly into the trunk. Their asses were pointing upward and outward as they were arranged in a kneeling posture with the amorphous hooded balls of their heads deep into the dark recess of the trunk.

Each of the rearing curvatures of female rear were well stuffed with monolithic orifice inserts, although the rubber mummified version showed her fillers as only as lumps in the tightness of her sheathing.

The two who were tightly cocooned in leather, presented the pale moons of uncovered buttocks, courtesy of the designed cut-away in their containment. Napper fingered the tautly stretched flesh of the massively dilated pussies, and watched with interest as the abused labial lips twitched. The shapes squirmed with his every touch, but powerful flexible steel cinching bands prevented anything more than a modicum of mobility that was restricted to less than an inch. Turnbuckle adjusters ran from each and mated with solid anchorages in the floor of the trunk, ensuring that they stayed perfectly restrained. Strangely they were all totally silent.

Napper's fingers touched and traced the wires emerging from each deeply implanted dildo and his eyes wandered up the wires to a point where they vanished into the darkness. He didn't have to see where they went. He knew. He had wired them. The wires led to a sound powered switch incorporated into the huge oral plugs each woman had filling their mouths. The slightest sound resulted in a powerful and painful charge zapping into their tender inner membranes. Three or four such shock sequences quickly trained them all to remain silent.

The leather clad two had learned that lesson three days ago when first installed some fifteen-hundred miles south. The rubber-sheathed effigy to the right of the trunk had given them a reminder of what to expect as she experienced her own recently applied crash course in the art of total silence.

Both of the long-termers felt her violent spasmodic convulsions and heard the muffled yelps as she learned the hard way. But neither could know that their bondage was relatively light compared to the newcomer.

"And how is Claudine today?" Napper squeezed the pouting overstressed pussy lips of the centre woman against the hardness of the dildo and felt her respond with a straining protest. It was a silent protest of course.

"And what about the other surprise catch? You feeling a bit stiff after your long journey Madame Silvia?" Claudine's friend and mistress writhed as a finger forced its way alongside the huge dildo stretching her ass and wormed deep into her interior.

Napper wriggled his finger and pulled at her clenching butt hole, then moved his attention to the mummified red head. With a sense of pride he surveyed the tight cinching overbanding of plastic straps, and marveled at how the vulcanising tape had merged into a super tight cocoon of rubber in such a short time. The woman was totally encased in an unbreakable dual sheath of plastic shrink film and rubber, and since application, both components had shrunk. In addition, the vulcanising rubber after first moving and stretching to conform to her contorted shape, had since welded itself into an unbending format. Even if he removed the steel clamps, the woman would be unable to straighten until the cocoon was sliced off her. Five layers of the tape once welded together formed a pretty rigid assembly. Below all that she was well strapped. Her legs from thigh to ankle were clamped tightly by plastic ties, and her arms were welded into a single, elbow touching limb by another series of straps pulled excruciatingly tight. The plastic shrink-wrap over the top of those basic ties simply homogenised her into a limbless unit, and the rubber and plastic strap over-banding merely added overkill to an already impossible situation. The pressure was enormous.

On a whim, Napper pulled a Swiss pocketknife from his pocket. Choosing the smallest blade with a needlepoint, he pricked the rubber-sheathed butt. The result was astounding. The unexpected prick of the blade caused Margaret to react without thinking. She jerked and mmmphed into her gag. A split second later the shining rubber-sheathed form exploded into a demonic pulsing exertion that sent shards of light glinting from the rippling surface of her containment. 

Image 5

Eventually, the timer ran out and the shocks searing her orifices stopped. He could hear the breath snorting from her nostrils, and had no doubt she was hardly managing to suppress the angry rebuttal of his actions. He pricked her again and watched as she repeated her display of straining effort. He was tempted to continue, but then nature took a hand. Such an erotic display of bound fuckability deserved recognition.

Using the blade the Napper carefully sliced around the hump created by the head of the pussy dildo, his fingers noting the tensing of the woman as she steeled herself for the next jab. Instead, she felt the rubber peeling away and the monolithic pussy invader sliding out.

It was a relief to feel her distended pussy resuming its natural size, but a relief short lived. Napper nuzzled the pouting pussy with a rampant erection and teased her with the impending violation. For a while he just ploughed the tip back and forth in her pussy cleft, and enjoyed the sight of her offered sex lips suckling helplessly on his shaft as they were pealed apart. Then he adjusted his stance and lined up with the entrance to her core.

A second later he exploded into her like a juggernaut of hot hard flesh. In one thrust Napper sank his manhood to the hilt in her helpless body, bulging her pussy lips sideways and stretching the delicate sensitive inner passage in a single devastating insertion. She strained and heaved, but the unseen wielder of that shaft of pulsing manhood didn't even have to make an effort to stay in her. The turnbuckles and steel banding held her firmly offered as she was ruthlessly riveted with a pulsing male pole of desire.

It seemed that Napper was having a problem with control as she felt his dick swell alarmingly and harden to a rock hard shaft. She sensed him becoming rigid as he froze and strove to fend off the onrushing sensation of ejaculation. Finally he won the battle over his rampant libido and the cocooned form of Margaret began to bounce and pulse with the energy of pumping male thighs impacting her taut bottom lobes. Unable to resist in any way, the helpless woman endured the pounding male hips as he utilised her curvaceous rump as a shock absorber. Ruthlessly, Napper fucked her with a passion, reaming and thrusting, often altering the angle of attack so as to stretch and plunder her pussy from every possible angle.

Eventually he had to avert his eyes from the steel cinched, rubberised female. The visual input was simply too powerful to ignore. The super-tight overkill of her bondage had produced a perfectly controlled and utterly helpless fuck-toy. Margaret was reduced to nothing more than a warm wanking hole and he could use her in any manner that he chose.

For something like ten minutes Napper paced himself, pumping away at varying levels of speed and thrust. It didn't matter what he did, the object of his attentions remained solidly positioned and completely vulnerable to his every desire. All her titanic efforts to resist or escape the ordeal were simply absorbed by her awesome bondage, and in fact only served to make her more enjoyable to the rat- fink who was currently fucking her brains out.

A particularly powerful thrust finally decided the outcome. Napper's stiff manhood penetrated deep and touched Margaret's cervix. An involuntary gasp of pain was enough to trigger the gag switch and send a massive charge into the remaining dildo buried in her ass.

Instantly Napper's straining fuck-toy was galvanised into a frantic package of pulsing curvatures that seemed to explode out past the steel cinches with barely contained effort.

His control was instantly shot to pieces. Rigid and swollen to a bar stiff tautness, his thrusting manhood pulsed violently and pumped his seed deep into the electrified bundle of womanhood. It was one of those orgasms that just never seemed to end, due in no small part to the fact that the pulsing rubber female parcel was massaging his dick with massive muscle contractions.

But the electrical input to her tormented ass was only part of it. Margaret was suffering a horribly unwanted orgasm herself. Mmmphing and hummphing, breath blasting from her nostrils in snorts, she was trapped in a circle of cause and effect. The electrical impulses created the initial spasms in her crotch, which in turn were clamping her abused pussy tight to the plundering rock-hard cock. That in turn produced a massive libido enhancing sensation that translated into an orgasm over which she had no control. The continuing convulsions of a multiple orgasm negated any attempt to control her verbal output. It was simply too powerful an event. Each gasp re-energised the anal dildo and sent yet more electrical energy into her convulsing crotch.

Exhausted, Napper finally withdrew from the twitching sex toy that was sucking him dry, and Margaret, relieved of the pumping stimulation of a male shaft deep in her pussy, was finally able to regain control over her libido. Steadily her straining and writhing subsided as she returned to the obedient, silent, bound object Napper had created.

As the exhausted pair recovered, the sound of voices could be heard as Napper's assistants returned from the local café. Napper watched them approach, then after some consideration of the three women in the trunk, he instructed them on the plan of action.

"Take the two leatherised chicks and set them up alongside Cassidy. Same set- up. They make up the three I need for that particular set. This one," he indicated the draining rear end of Margaret, "put her over there. She nearly fucked up my entire operation and I have to plan something special for her. Meantime, leave her wrapped and mount her on that short pedestal over there; the fluted one we were preparing to mount a decorative bust on."

One of the guys regarded the narrow three-foot high column of molded plaster with some concern.

"She'll be a bit unstable boss. The slightest movement and she'll topple over." 

Napper looked straight at him.

"So what's the problem? She moves, she learns the hard way." The guy shrugged and started to unscrew the turnbuckles clamping the rubberised female into the trunk.

It took a half-hour to remove all the women from the trunk and set them up. Napper looked on with interest as the two leatherised females were mounted and clamped down alongside Cassidy. Minutes later they were plumbed into the service machine and enduring the same reversals of pressure and vacuum that had become part of Cassidy's never-ending torment.

The mounting of the rubber cocooned ex inspector from the architectural firm was of particular interest to him. She looked so diabolically cute and totally unstable perched on the pedestal, still kneeling, ass in the air, and now clamped to the base with a couple of makeshift straps. It was a very provocative pose that appealed to Napper.

Image 6

"That one is my personal fuck-toy. No one fucks her but me. Understand? At least till I've finished with her that is, then you can all have her before we send her off somewhere." The guys nodded in unison.

"You want her rigged for a clean out boss?" Napper considered it for a second or two then shook his head.

"Not yet. Leave her plugged and let her start to wonder if she'll ever get to crap again. With that rubber over the oversized butt plug I used she'll never force it out. And while I think about it, stuff that other one back into her pussy and stick some tape over it. I still have to figure what I'm going to do with her. She was a sort of bonus that got forced on me by circumstances. I'll have to check the drawings and see if we can fit her into the project in a way to which she would most definitely not like to become accustomed."

The pedestal mounted figure overheard and moaned softly, thus earning her an instant reminder that silence was golden. The pedestal rocked dangerously but she managed to keep her electrically orchestrated movement to a bare minimum. Even the rough re-insertion of the pussy plug failed to extract a whimper.

Napper turned his attention back to the other three women. Cassidy was by now sparkling clean inside, and the other two leatherised women were already on the third or fourth rinse cycle.

"Give them a half hour more and then prepare them for insertion into the molds. I'll be back either late this afternoon or this evening. Be ready to pour when I get here, and make sure the doc' supervises all the connections. No screw ups, we need to ship them by morning or else we'll have more inspectors sniffing around and the building contractors crawling up our asses asking why we're late on the contract scheduling."


CHAPTER SEVEN - THE JIGSAW PUZZLE

Eddie slumped into the well worn swivel chair, reached out, took the No Smoking sign and dropped it into the trash can, then lit a cheroot from a new pack. To call the room an office was something of a stretch. Bolt a handle and a label holder to the door and it could be mistaken as a filing cabinet. But it was all he was going to get, and he was one of the lucky ones. The desk sergeant was still trying to get his office moved off the stairwell. It seemed the Seattle police were either real short on building space or severely budget impaired.

He tilted the chair back and placed his feet up on the desk. A curse escaped his lips and leaning forward he gingerly extracted a splinter from his calf. The ancient desk was little more than pallet wood. Shaking his head in resignation to the inevitable, he repositioned his feet and took the report folder from the desk. Everything since he had arrived, and anything else prior to that time that may be of the slightest significance, was in there. Whatever else the lieutenant and his precinct might be, his word was good.

Suddenly he heard the raised voice of the desk sergeant.

"Listen Mr F.B.I man, I'm telling you Eddie Valenski ain't here and I don't care if you flash a badge saying you're the president, it ain't going to change that. I don't have a clue when he'll be back. I gave up babysitting detectives a while back."

Eddie grinned, slid off the chair and ducked behind the door. The lieutenant was running true to his promise. Apparently the entire station house was under instructions to obstruct G-men in whatever form they presented themselves. 

The coast was finally clear, and Eddie resumed his folder survey. The more he read, the more confusing it became. Some of the evidence was like a déjà vu experience, but he shrugged it off and assumed it was the similarities between this new super-shit and the original Napper.

Eventually he reverted to the old tried and tested case-plot blackboard. The names and locations of known abductees went up, as did dates, and any established links. But the more he added the more it became obvious that he was the only common denominator. The dates of the Napper incidents and his own movements were as one. It all seemed to have started about a week after he got out of hospital, as if the Napper was waiting for him to be released before starting to move. Whoever it was, they had pre-planned the whole thing. Trying to frame him as a random spur of the moment idea didn't wash. The latex mask they found took care of that theory, as it would have taken considerable effort and planning to manufacture the thing.

An idea occurred to him. Vengeance. Someone who wanted vengeance for the death of the original Napper. He began to chalk that up at the top of the board, and then added subheadings by possible category below the word vengeance. 

Brother? Sister? Relation? Friend? Ex Con who shared a cell?

Eddie was still thinking when the door opened and the lieutenant walked in. Neither said anything as Al checked the board and then added his input.

"Nah! We already checked the relatives angle, and so did Oklahoma. He was an only son and his parents are dead. The only living relative, an uncle, is 84 years old and didn't even like him. The guy really couldn't care less if a truck turned him into road kill."

Eddie frowned and struck a line through the top three entries.

"So that leaves a friend or an ex con."

The lieutenant nodded.

"We're working on that, including his old army buddies, but so far no luck. He wasn't well liked at all. Most of them were glad to see the back of him when he got busted out of the army, and no one really gives a shit that he was toasted in a rocket fuel fire. As for the time he did in the Pen', no feed back yet."

Eddie remembered that the original Napper had been a supply and requisitions officer in the Army.

"Okay, so what else don't we have up here. What is he doing with these chicks? Where is he selling them?" As he spoke out loud he scribbled the words in. "If he's a copycat, he's not killing them. The original Napper loved his pussy too much to ever kill one, so they are all alive. Let's run a check on possible buyers and known slavers who might be in the country. The Napper got his ultimate jollies out of selling them off like pieces of trained meat."

As they both stood looking at the board in search of divine inspiration, Eddie noticed the only broken link. It was the Irish girl. All the others had a connection to the old Napper case, or him, or both. But not her. No link. No connection. Nada. Zilch. At least none that had surfaced. She was a joker card in the pack. 

He ringed the name on the incident board with red chalk and muttered to himself. 

"And just where do you fit into this young maiden? Where has he got you stashed you little red haired colleen? Napper never took anyone without a reason, and all the ones he took, were connected to his crooked past in some way." 

Al broke into his thoughts.

"How do you know she's a red head, Eddie? We have no pictures and the Irish embassy hasn't forwarded their file to us yet. Neither has the I.N.S. They must have a photo in her immigration file."

Eddie looked puzzled for a second.

"I don't know. I suppose I just made an assumption seeing as she was Irish." His hand went up to scratch the annoying itch on his scalp and then he remembered the doc's warning and picked up the exhibit bags instead.

Something was bugging the shit out of him and he couldn't put his figure on it. Then it struck him as he eyed the dainty panties and attached note.

The word 'LUNKHEADS'. It was a term he'd not seen since high school days, and in fact it was one of his own favourites in those bygone days. Whoever this sick joker was, he seemed to know every intimate detail of Eddie Valenski's life, or else it was the biggest coincidence since Stanley bumped into Doctor Livingstone in an Africa jungle.

The whole mess was a brainteaser loaded with semi-memories or flashbacks to both his own past and that of the Napper case. And that Irish woman. There was a clue there and it was smacking him the face, but he just couldn't see the connection. Instinct told him that she was the key that would unlock this case. He had a thought and turned to the lieutenant.

"We need to run a check on every project the Irish chick was ever involved with, every supplier she may have ordered from, every lawyer, architect, contractor, telephone repair man, water bottle delivery man, shit-house cleaner, you name it. Let's see if there are any connections through that company to anything on this board. Also see if she has ever been to Oklahoma, or had any contact with anything or anyone that might have led to me knowing her. Maybe it isn't just an assumption. Maybe I have met her somewhere in the past. But then again, maybe my past is the answer.

"Fuck! I feel so close and yet so far. I know the answer is staring me in the face and it just won't come to me."

Al pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded.

"Consider it done. I'll get Ferret on it right away."

Eddie turned, his face furrowed questioningly. "Ferret...? As in rodent type ferret?"

Al grinned back.

"Yeah! The scruffy little shit who sits in the corner way away from anyone else. We call him Ferret because he has a knack for ferreting out anything from anywhere. He's a total pain in the ass, and he always needs a bath, but he sure knows how to sniff out things we missed. The only thing he can't seem to find is a fucking bar of soap. Take some advice, stuff some cotton wool up your nose dosed with after-shave when you're around him."

Eddie nodded understandingly. Every cop station had one, Oklahoma was no exception, only they called him 'The Weasel'.

The lieutenant spoke over his shoulder as he turned to go.

"I'm outta here. I was up and on the job at 5a.m. so I'm taking an early night. Meantime get some sleep Eddie. Maybe you'll think better tomorrow, and I know it's worrying you shitless that Claudine is in his hands, but as you say, he won't kill her. So figure how to find her, and quick!" He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose at the lingering rank stench of Eddie's now defunct cheroot. 

"I'll see if I can get a fan or air purifier installed in here tomorrow, or at least get the window removed. Ever thought of smoking cow shit instead?"

Eddie resisted the jibe and waved him goodnight. Turning back to the board, he reached out with a hand and scooped up the bottle of aspirin lying open and tipped over on the desk. Without really thinking what he was doing he tipped the bottle into his palm and popped the remaining five tablets into his mouth. 

Damn this headache. It was really fucking with his thought process.

Okay, so Al was checking the Irish woman, now he had to search his own past to see if the key was there.


CHAPTER EIGHT - RETRIBUTION

Margaret perched miserably on her pedestal, unable to move even the slightest amount for fear of toppling, and aching in her lower orifices from the intrusion of the monolithic plugs. The sound of the workers was distant, probably in another room, but occasionally she heard women in distress and guessed that whoever her trunk mates had been, they were being prepared as per Napper's instructions.

Napper re-appeared around 7 p.m. She heard him approach and felt his hands on her bound form. He removed the tape and pussy plug as Margaret tensed herself for a repeat of the earlier performance. But the pricks never came. Neither did the invading cock. Instead she felt the two fixings straps loosen and then heard Napper moving around as he collected things.

Suddenly his arms surrounded her and she felt herself being lifted down and placed on the floor. He rolled her over from the kneeling position and laid her on her back, but despite the change the cocoon stiffness held her semi folded. Hopefully it wouldn't be for long. Her arms, tightly bound and sheathed behind her, were now taking her full body weight.

Some sort of rod was placed across her upper thighs in the crook of her hip, and then she could feel a strap being dragged around her. Napper positioned the strap to encircle her at mid calf and across her arms at the level of her waist. There was a clicking sound and the strap began to tighten. It was some sort of powerful ratchet strap, and despite the stiffness of her cocoon, Margaret found herself being steadily compressed into an even tighter fold.

Frantically she fought against it, but the strap inexorably compacted her body until she was crushed into a tight 'S' shape with the bar trapped in the fold of her body.

More straps went on, and repeating the ratcheting process, Napper added bands along the entire length of her body. Margaret estimated four or five. It hardly mattered since one was more than enough to hold her in that compacted shape. 

Having seemingly completed his intended alterations to her plight, Napper rolled her back over onto her knees and moved away. He was pleased with the overall effect. The woman was like a solid mass, incapable of any movement no matter how he rolled her around.

A chain rattled somewhere outside her dark world of sightless, soundless, inescapable vulnerability, and something touched her back. Then there was a much louder clicking noise and she felt an upward tug on the strapping. It made sense as she felt the pressure vanish from her knees. She was being winched up by some sort of hoist.

The clicking continued for some time, and then there was silence. In dread, parceled like a piece of meat on a butcher's hook, Margaret waited for further developments. She was acutely aware of the vulnerability of her exposed pussy, and the taut thrusting allure of her folded buttocks.

Image 7

Napper prodded the dangling bundle of shiny rubber curvatures and nodded approvingly as his new toy swung gently back and forth on the chain. A swivel hook on the end of the chain permitted the tightly bound package to rotate, so he spun the load and watched as it slowly turned.

There was no movement and no sound. Just a gleaming, black, compacted parcel of female with a moist exposed hole in one end. He reached for the bar sandwiched into the crease of her hips with both hands as her back end swung to face him, then adjusted the chain height a few inches until the gaping pussy was at optimum crotch height.

He pulled her back and forth by the bar and made a grunt of approval as her curvaceous rump made contact with the bulge in his crotch at a perfect angle and height. The exposed split peach mounds of Margaret's pussy nuzzled his raging erection provocatively. By now she had probably figured out what would surely follow. The rippling rubber betrayed her frantic effort to avoid the inevitable. And her assumption was correct, but it was lacking in a few minor details. The sound of a metallic belt buckle tinkled faintly in the cavernous room, followed by the soft buzz of a zipper.

Naked from the waist down, rampant dick standing out like a flagpole, Napper doubled the belt he'd removed from the loops of his pants and lined up with the taut curve of the folded rubber-sheathed butt. A vicious kick in the crotch at the time he abducted her was uppermost in his mind. This spunky little lady had almost crippled him with pain, and were it not for the fact that he had already jabbed a hypo full of Sodium Pentothal into her ass as she slept, she may well have ruined his whole plan. As it happened, the Pentothal kicked in whilst he was still writhing on the floor and Margaret had landed beside him as she crumpled.

Napper drew back his arm. It was pay back time.

The belt whistled through the air and impacted the taut rump with a sharp crack. Instantly the dangling bundle jerked and mmmphed into the gag. A second later the entire package came alive with rippling exertion as her electrical silence trainer sent massive retribution to her butt hole.

The impact caused the folded target to turn slowly, and pacing himself to the speed of rotation, Napper swung each time her butt came around. Pretty soon the spinning sheathed woman had reached a maximum rotation mode, but as she turned her jerks and convulsions were also creating a swing, which gave the whole movement a strange elliptical track.

Napper grinned widely. This was fun, it was like practicing with a tennis trainer. It mattered little to him that the moving target was absorbing continuous jolts of electricity up her butt hole as burning lines of fire simultaneously traced across her taut rump with each impact of the belt.

The jerking motion became convulsive as Margaret pulsed with immense energy. Like a puppet, she danced and spun helplessly on her chain and yet her maximum effort translated into only an inch or two of actual movement, mainly in the form of extruded bulges that seemed to erupt between the tight cinching straps. Even her pussy seemed to expand as she exerted every morsel of her strength against the crushing embrace of her bonds, and the rubber retained ass plug seemed determined to burst free and fly across the room.

Napper switched from his horizontal swing to a vertical underhanded swing so as to bring the strap upward into a very sensitive spot. On the very first strike, the speeding belt lashed directly onto her exposed pussy lips.

The shiny rubber parcel seemed to explode with cinch-straining protuberances of rubberised womanhood as Margaret's efforts became frenzied and the muffled pleas for mercy echoed around the room.

"You should have thought about that before you kicked me in the balls lady." The pendulum of torment spun around and swung back into range, and the belt delivered yet another waspish sting to her reddening labial lips.

Napper lashed her for fifteen minutes or more, then allowed her to swing to a stop. He indulged himself with some groping and poking, savouring the cinched tightness of her impossible plight. Despite all his abuse and her attempts to break free, she was exactly as he had bound her. Nothing had moved. Nothing needed re-tightening. As he toyed with her his mind reviewed the images of her as a tall shapely woman, perfectly formed with firm half-melon breasts, curvaceous hips and rump, and a naturally nipped waistline, and then related it to the same woman who was now a mere package. All that beauty was compacted into a neat, rubber-sheathed bundle of gagged, fuckable femininity. Just when she must have felt that the worst was over, Napper resumed the lashing torment.

Image 8

The jerking, mmmphing marionette quickly resumed her electrically enhanced pulsations, bulging and straining against the straps with a ferocity that set fire to Napper's crotch sensations.

He gave her another twenty minutes of training with the folded belt, then grabbed the bar as she swung past. Placing a hand on each side like the handlebars of a bike, he lined up with the scarlet swollen cleft of her abused pussy lips and impaled her with one jerk of the bar.

The design proved excellent. Endowed with handlebars, the suspended, rubberised fuck-ball that was Margaret could be manipulated onto a stiff male member without the slightest possibility of resistance.

This was true control. Napper found that he could pace his enjoyment with ease as he thumped her tautly folded rump back and forth against the root of his manhood. He even started to experiment and often pushed her away so that she was some two or three feet distant, and then speared the swinging ball of torment with his dick as she swung back.

The penetration was virtually instantaneous, and for the bound woman, it was almost an explosion of male organ within her sex channel.

Napper fucked her rigorously, then sensing the onset of an irreversible surge, he completed his game with a leg wobbling orgasm of pulsing ejaculation as he yanked the handle-barred fuck-toy tight onto his throbbing pole.

Drained and sated, he pulled out. Giving the dangling rubberised parcel a contemptuous slap on the rump, he thrust her away and walked off as she swung like a used and discarded toy.

"Now call me a scum bag, Little Miss Uppity."

Napper peered into the next room. The other three women had been stripped from the internal cleansing machine, prepared and installed into their new format, and were ready for the next stage. He could see that his instructions had been carried out to the letter, but he inspected the result anyway. Meantime, Little Miss Irish Uppity could start on the next stage of his vengeance plot. He called over the team who were standing discussing the bound women they had prepared. 

Image 9

"Okay you guys. The Irish fuck-toy is all yours. Keep her like that until I tell you, and use her all you want." He stood back as the team almost got themselves jammed in the doorway in their rush to be first. As the last guy struggled to push through, Napper reached out and caught his arm. With his other hand he swept an array of canes, paddles and whips from a nearby shelf and thrust them into the guy's hand.

"You'll be needing these, fellas. She needs a lot of warming up to get her in the mood." The Napper grinned widely and scurried away.

It seemed that Margaret wasn't going to get bored. Well maybe she was, but not in the metaphorical sense. As he walked away Napper heard the swish of canes, the splat of paddles, and a cacophony of Mmmmmrrrs! and Mmmmmmphs! from the adjoining room. It sounded like Margaret's next playtime was in full swing all ready. Napper developed a massive hard-on just imagining the cocooned, tightly cinched, rubberised package, pulsing and jerking under a flurry of descending instruments of correction.

CRACK!

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRR! MMMMMPHH!

CRACK!

MMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRR! MMMPPPH!

CRACK!

MMMMMMMMMRRRR! MMMMPPPH!

The sound of a whip joining the fray was music to his ears, and the tinkle of chain links could mean only one thing. Her reaction to the whip was such that it as to caused her suspension chain to thrash and snatch as she danced wildly on its end. That guy Max was a real pro' with that thing and Napper had no doubt that each and every stroke was going to land squarely on a very sore and swollen pussy. The beauty of employees like this was that they were all ex scene players who had been ostracised from the SM community for unacceptable conduct. Genuine scene people soon recognised the lunatic fringe elements and quickly spread the word. In effect, it was a very efficient mechanism for weeding out the jerk-offs and dangerous sadists. For Napper it was a bonus. They had by their own actions created a situation whereby they were starved of the opportunity to play their style of unacceptable torment. So they worked for free just to get the chance to vent their twisted kink on helpless females. They knew exactly how to extract maximum trauma from their dangling toy without doing any real damage, and without even breaking the skin. The sounds of chain rattling escalated with every whip stroke and he was tempted to go back and watch as Margaret yo-yoed and struggled with each lash of the whip. He'd left strict instructions that she could be taken to the limits of endurance, but not beyond. He knew he would be obeyed. They had no other supplier of suitable material to torment.

With Margaret's immediate future taken care of and his revenge assured, Napper turned his attention to the trio of females designated for his next shipment.

First there was the statuesque Claudine, wife of his most hated enemy, Eddie Valenski. Then there was Claudine's mistress, another woman of equally staggering beauty. They were well matched for shape and size, and for a while it was difficult to tell them apart. The third effigy was Officer Cassidy, a slightly bustier woman, but in all other respects identical. Claudine's green eyes were the give-away of the former pair, which was just as well seeing as that was all that was visible of either woman.

All three were now clad in neoprene skin diving suits, custom made from two millimeter sharkskin and monotone in colour. Napper had deliberately sent measurements to the manufacturer that would be better suited to women three dress sizes smaller. The suits were a skin-tight wrinkle free fit that held each woman in a constantly compressive grip. They were hooded and had masks the same as any skin diver, but there the resemblance ended. The masks were permanently affix to the hoods, and the mouth pieces, although outwardly standard issue, concealed inner oral fixtures that filled their mouths with sound absorbing foam rubber. The breather tube and indeed dual purpose feeder tube was embedded in the centre of a very effective gagging system. As with the masks, the breathers were an integral part of the hood. In addition, an over-band around the entire hooded head produced a cinched cheeks look and ensured that the gags stayed firmly embedded in the mouth. Napper loved the way their rubber enshrouded cheeks bulged over the top of those overbands.

All of the women were heavily banded from head to foot, arm-sheathed, and basically turned into limbless statues.

Image 10

As they hung motionless save for the eyes that followed him everywhere with beseeching looks, Napper moved around them to inspect the fixtures and fittings. Each woman had a set of two hoses trailing from between their ankles; one a large bore that would service solid wastes, and a smaller bore catheter that took care of liquids. Two multi-core wires completed the group of umbilicals from the woman. Above them, a hose emerged from the top of the confinement to supply air, food and water.

The most impressive part of the whole system was the medium used to ensure total immobility. All three women were installed in vacuum-formed acrylic. In effect, they were mummified with a quarter inch thick acrylic that, once hardened, had a tensile strength of tons.

It was a simple matter to install the women. A tube of pre-heated acrylic thick- wall tube, made flexible by the heat, was simply lowered over each in turn, the ends crimped and a vacuum pump turned on. Air pressure did the rest, and within seconds the acrylic had shrunk and formed to a skin tight fit around each helpless maiden. The neoprene protected them from the hot acrylic long enough for it to cool and stiffen, and then it was a simply matter of trimming and burnishing the rigid plastic mummies.

The result was a staggering trio of living statues who couldn't make a sound or achieve the slightest movement. And yet every tiny detail of the corseted, sheathed bound forms was on display.

Napper savoured the image before him, and then gripped the hanging hoist control. No.1 mummy, which happened to be Claudine, was to receive first honours at the next stage of installation.

Steadily she rose until her feet were 24 inches above the top of a pre-moulded column some 15 feet tall, then Napper traversed the hoist till she was directly above it.

The hoist began to lower, and as if by magic, the stiffened acrylic effigy seemed to vanish into solid stone. In fact, the column was hollow.

Napper continued to lower until he gauged that the woman was hanging approximately halfway down the inside the column and then he stopped. Stooping down, he retrieved the two waste disposal pipes hanging from the bottom of the effigised woman and threaded them through holes in a disk. The disk was then fastened to the base of the column, thus sealing the bottom end. Using a ladder he climbed up and made sure the breather hose was connected to a combined breather-feeder unit and then carefully lowered the unit into a pre-fitted bracket inside the column. Air and water would be from an external supply, but the food concentrate was an integral part of the design. Enough to last six months at normal usage. Napper made a final check, ensured that the control cables were attached to the feeder unit, and then descended.

He smiled grimly and looked over at the wide-eyed women who were watching what would soon be their fate, then began to operate another hanging control station.

There was a hiss as a pneumatic valve opened, and then a stream of grey slurry began to pour from a vent in the massive overhead holding hopper. Simultaneously a second tube alongside the vent measured a dose of quick set chemical into the descending stream.

It took less than a minute for the hollow column to fill and the quick set concrete to reach the brim. Napper climbed back up, and gripping the tube that was emerging from the sloppy goo, he slipped it through a pre-drilled former and laid the former over the top of the column. Once set, the emergence of the pipe would be at an exact place, and that was essential.

He climbed back down and shifted the holding hopper vent over to the next column, secure in the knowledge that the quick setting concrete would be solid within ten minutes. Claudine was already doomed to her new life inside a concrete sarcophagus.

He went through the same process with the remaining women, and by the time the first exhausted helper returned from the playgroup attending Margaret, three silent solidified columns were ready for shipping.

"How's it going out there? That bitch still enjoying herself?"

Max grinned wolfishly.

"Reckon enjoying ain't the right word boss. She ain't gonna be wanting to put that pretty ass down on anything for a long time."

Napper cocked an ear to the sounds still coming from the next room and was pleased to hear that the multi-fuck play mode was over and she was well into her second caning ordeal. He winced as a particularly heavy stroke extracted an extended MMMMPPPH! of displeasure and imagined the frenzied chain jerking dance generated by her dangling form.

"Sounds good to me, now get these columns on the flat bed trailer. The semi will be picking it up first thing in the morning for shipment to Oklahoma. It has to go, the contractors are already complaining it's late and the road trip is going to take four days. Make sure you fill them up with water just before they leave. They won't get any on the road and until they are in place and plumbed in so pump the bitches full using the utility vent. They'll hardly burst now that they're set in concrete." He looked at his watch.

"Hey! Super Bowl starts in an hour. Tell those maniacs in the other room they can go back to the dangling bitch later. I have to go out but I'll be back for the match. Are the seats all set up?"

Max turned his head back as he hurried towards the other room and he grinned.

"Sure thing Boss. The girls will be here anytime. No way do we wanna miss watching the match this time. Reckon most men can only dream about this set up on Super Bowl Sunday."

Napper remembered with some irritation that two of the men, Aaron and Martin, had asked to bring their current girlfriends along. At first he had been dead against the idea. They weren't involved and that meant they might blab. Then he was informed they were both sadistic bitches who were also banned from any local SM clubs. They sounded like hungry vixens looking for a turn-on. They would be only too glad be get involved in something and maybe they could be useful in the future. Women were a pain in the ass at a time like this, and he for one had always been irritated by the constant interruptions just at the wrong moment. Women just didn't understand. But all that was academic for this year's game. The only women there were either going to be utility objects or like minded bondage SM freaks that had been invited.


CHAPTER NINE - THE PLOT THICKENS

Eddie woke with a start and almost fell out of his chair. As his eyes focused he perceived the tall gaunt shape of the desk sergeant staring down at him.

"Oh you're back then. This just came in for you." He threw a folder on the desk and turned to leave.

Eddie gathered his thoughts. He must have dozed off.

"Waddya mean back? I've been here all damned day ploughing through records." The sergeant gave him a strange look.

"Well you weren't here when I looked in twice before."

Eddie grunted.

"I must have been in the shitter or taking a leak then." He leaned across the pile of papers cluttering the desk and grabbed the folder. It was a dispatch from the Oklahoma PD with all the up to date on the snatches down south. He added it to the pile. Hours of careful scrutiny of his own past cases revealed nothing. He was desperately hoping that there had been something in there to trigger a memory or connection, but came up with zilch.

Eddie patted himself down looking for a cheroot, but found nothing. That was weird, he distinctly remembered buying a new pack just before coming back to the office. The ashtray revealed only one mangled stump. Dammit! Either some asshole had snuck in whilst he was dozing and shanghaied the packet or he'd dropped them somewhere.

He retrieved the stinking stump from the ashtray and carefully straightened it out. A piece of the gum flap from an envelope cured the split in one side and made it drawable.

Eddie applied a match to the resultant mini-stogie and nearly set fire to his face from the close proximity. Leaning back after a minor choking session that was only partially life threatening, he regained control of a protesting throat and inhaled the acrid smoke.

"Shit! Maybe I should give up this crap," he muttered to himself. His head ached abysmally, and the aspirin bottle was empty.

His eyes strayed to the notes he'd made in the search. Pitifully few, as it happened. None of them related to the blackboard notations in any real way or shone a searchlight of enlightenment on any aspect of the material they already had. Margaret Mulrooney was ringed both on the blackboard and his notes. She was the key, he had a gut feeling about that. The question was to what door? The report sheet on her employment and private life showed nothing out of the ordinary. No enemies, no links. Since becoming an inspector for the company she had vetted dozens of projects as the architect's quality control overseer. Most of her projects were ticked off as cleared. Seventeen showed reports of shoddy workmanship that needed to be rectified before they could be accepted. Of those, fifteen showed as resolved and two had notes that they were in the process of being resolved. But that was it. No big deal there.

The other thing of any slight interest was that she had a very vague connection to a woman called Natasha in the state's Department of Transport. Natasha, one of the missing women, was listed as a possible Napper client. There was no record of either woman actually contacting each other, but both had been indirectly involved with a general contractor who supplied ready mix concrete. Natasha for her part had sent a warning to the owners of one of the concrete supply trucks about their vehicles taking unauthorised short cuts through streets with a weight limit in force. One of Margaret's seventeen errant contractors doing sub-standard work used the same supplier, but that was it.

Eddie pulled the relevant papers in front of him to take another look, but as he did the headache deepened into a blinding throb.

"Fuck it!" He cursed to himself. I'll have to get some aspirin or my head's gonna bust." Rising, he grabbed his jacket and made his way out.

"You out again?" It was the desk sergeant. Eddie scowled. What the fuck was up with him. He'd just told him he hadn't been out. He decided to let it drop. Obviously the old fart was nearing retirement and was going senile.

"Yeah! I've got the mother of all hangovers and I didn't even have the pleasure of getting drunk to fucking earn it." He indicated the scar on the back of his head and the sergeant nodded understandingly. The whole precinct knew about Eddie's run in with the drug pusher.

"You want I should fix you up to see the duty pill-pusher?"

Eddie shook his head and wished he hadn't.

"Nah! They told me to expect this for a month or two. At least until the brain swelling goes down."

The sergeant smirked.

"Now that leaves it wide open to some shitty comments, but I'll resist the temptation." Eddie forced a grin and gave him the stiff finger as he pushed through the swing doors on his way out.


CHAPTER TEN - PLEASURE CENTRES

Napper made it back to the warehouse with minutes to spare and settled comfortably into his chair. All around him was a buzz of excitement as the others took their seats. The three guys were describing the various attributes of the entertainment centres to the two SM chicks they'd brought as guests. He smiled to himself and looked them up and down. Both were hot chicks in their twenties, and dressed in the normal SM paraphernalia frequently used by the yuppie SM'ers and wannabes; tight plastic stretch jeans, studded collars and coloured hair, plus the obligatory nose rings.

They were like kids with new toys, but then again that is exactly what they had. Six of the thirty or so women they had abducted so far had been reserved for this moment. He would have thought that the women would have felt some compassion for the plight of their own gender, but not these sadistic bitches. They were openly getting off on the sight of such ruthless control, and neither of them wanted to wait to put the women allocated to them to use. They were prodding and poking, taunting and laughing as they described what they were going to do with the helpless females installed on the devices. Obviously they were extremely turned on by the fact that they had such powerful and shapely women at their disposal.

Fucking amateurs, he thought. Napper watched for a while and then, reaching down, he pulled down his zipper and teased a massive erection out of the opening. The monolithic stiffy finally sprang into view and stood vertically like a thick flagpole. It was one of those purple-headed stiffies, the kind that threatened to split the skin with anticipation of forthcoming events. He could actually see his own pulse in the veined taut skin of his penis and his heart was pounding. It was time to put the device into pleasure mode. A button at the side of the chair came easily to hand, and in sync with five other chairs, his own recreational chair started to whine softly as a mini-hydraulic pump adjusted the active part of the arrangement to Super Bowl mode.

Six kidnapped women were in the room, but none of them could move an inch by their own volition. Any movement they made would be hydraulically induced and at the press of a male finger on a button. Currently they were in storage mode, tilted upwards at an angle of forty-five degrees like a row of mermaid figureheads, facing the comfortable seats occupied by the men and their two female guests. They were making ungodly, unintelligible noises, but that was about to end. Wide eyed and straining frantically against unbreakable bonds, the hog- tied females tilted over, their gaping mouths heading straight for four hard male dicks and two very wet pussy's. Within a few seconds each one of them would be orally stuffed with rigid manhood or lip sealed to a hot sweaty snatch that demanded to be sucked out. They could see it coming and could do nothing to avoid the sexual organs waiting for them.

Napper watched his own tightly cinched female slowly tilting and felt his erection harden still more as he was treated to a slowly changing view of the diabolical plight of his personal entertainment centre. Every detail of her sheathed form, the tightly restrained elbow touching arm arrangement and deeply indented cinched body was being slowly displayed.

In keeping with Napper's personal taste in restrained women, she was sheathed in tight black rubber, hooded, and superbly bound. Rubber was his favourite covering being a form of bondage in itself. It hugged all those curves and crevices so closely leaving the woman nothing by way of modesty, revealing them as shiny sex toys, designed to be a man's possession.

The bondage was an extreme hog-tie, achieved by the use of many ratchet straps that crushed the heels of the woman deep into her soft buttocks and welded her arms tightly against her back. Several thousand pounds of holding force ensured that the woman had no chance of altering her format or escaping the design requirements. Each strap had a breaking strain of 1300 pounds. The use of ten such straps on each woman made any escape impossible. She was cinched down so tight to the fibreglass former of the stand that her entire body was compacted into a folded rigid, unmoving package of furiously straining femininity. The straining manifested itself only by extruding curves of her rubberised body that swelled past the cinches with an escalating severity as her mouth was inexorably moved toward the throbbing shaft of manhood.

The hood, whilst covering all of her head, left the eyes and mouth uncovered. Napper loved to see their eyes pleading and more often than not wide open and bugging out with strain and effort. In this case it was essential that their mouths were also available. An integral pair of dental mouth jacks at each side of the helmet were attached to stainless steel bars that hooked into each corner of her mouth. Once the helmet was drawn tight, the tension placed the jacks firmly and deeply inserted into her gaping mouth, wedged tightly between her rear molars. There was no possibility of her closing her mouth and using her sharp teeth as a weapon. A head harness strapped over the helmet and drawn back by a powerful adjuster maintained the head arched back and perfectly aligned for use and steel preformed skull clamps ensured that none of them could turn away from the task in hand.

With ponderous inevitability the stand continued to tilt the bound female until she was head down despite her frenzied efforts to escape. As she tilted, the beer table and TV stand, complete with a portable TV, rose into view. The TV stand was a pre-cast fibreglass leg mounted device, shaped to her shins and clamped to her by the ratchet straps. It formed a dual function as it held her legs tightly folded against her butt and formed a stable solid base for the TV mount. The beer table was a similar moulding mounted on her sheathed arms and held in place by the cinches passing over the mono-limb of her arm-sheath.

Napper heard the ungodly sounds of gaping, protesting mouths rise to a crescendo then progressively change to muffled waffling as one by one the six women completed the conversion from merely bound females to recreational utility objects in enforced Super Bowl mode. His own tightly bound object was last to be silenced. As the TV rose to full view he felt the hot breath of his personal female TV station blasting against his throbbing shaft. The hydraulics whined softly and a silky warm mouth steadily engulfed his shaft as the immobilised woman was jammed down onto his rod. She waffled angrily, then gurgled and gagged, at the same time swallowing frantically as the throbbing member pressed her tongue down and ploughed into her esophagus. The jacks kept her open-mouthed and receptive no matter how much she tried to bite.

Napper ignored her desperate attempts to escape and kept his finger on the button as she was orally impaled. It was a delicious sensation to feel his hard member sliding deep into her throat, stretching, filling, and gagging her completely. Finally the gaping mouth bottomed out against the root of his manhood and her sensuous lips were stretched and taut around the root of his throbbing shaft. Snorts of breath whistled through his pubic hairs and her nostrils flared with each laboured inhalation. He had no doubt that the wiry forest of his bush was driving her nuts with itching nose syndrome. But what the hell! There was absolutely nothing she could do about it. The power and severity of her bondage ensured that she remained rigidly positioned for use, her faced stuffed with throbbing male anatomy.

Image 11

Napper then sat back to watch the game with the woman firmly impaled on his member. He could feel her highly active tongue massaging the underneath of his shaft as she tried to eject him, whilst her deeply invaded throat worked frantically on the pulsing head of his turgid manhood. His massive erection was filling her completely from lips to base of her neck but he had it in mind to stuff his balls into her waffling mouth as well. Maybe later. The thought of her cheeks bulging even further and filled with his testicles was immensely appealing to him. But for the moment he was content with the sensations of feeling her well packed face pulsing against his thighs as she tried to blow him out. Already the scarlet colouring of her face was spreading around the visible area at the back of her neck as the effort raised her blood pressure. No doubt her fury at being so completely used and humiliated had something to do with that as well.

The woman writhed and swelled against the strapping, and he saw the portable TV shake fractionally. A second button cured that as it sent an electrical current through the recreational utility item from dildo stuffed crotch to steel clamped neck. The cock sucking, cinched female convulsed and then froze rigid as the current paralysed her muscles. Napper felt the waffling, protesting mouth cease operation as her throat muscles locked up. That wasn't good. A selector switch beside the button resolved the problem as the current switched to pulse mode. A slightly moving TV was a small price to pay for the luxury of feeling an electrically motivated convulsing woman on his throbbing dick. Napper remembered another small detail and reminded the others as he flicked a switch on the control panel. A deep throated woman couldn't breath. But the design of the automatic sequencers took care of that. At a pre-set interval, the hydraulics of the pleasure centre lifted the women sufficiently for them to gulp in some air before jamming their gaping mouths back onto the hard dicks and returning them to the task in hand. In time the helpless women adjusted to the rhythm of the machines and accepted what small mercies they were designed to give.

The majority of the time, Napper was deep into her throat, and no matter what she did, it was impossible for her to control the electrically orchestrated throat contractions as the collar fed power to her helpless body. She couldn't move or make anything other than a muffled protest as the pulses forced her to suck his cock in a most satisfying way.

Image 12

This Super Bowl Sunday looked like being the ultimate in male entertainment. It was the perfect solution to a nagging wife spoiling the finer points of the game. At last womanhood would be a welcome addition to the male preserve of Super Bowl day.

To the six utilised women, it seemed they had reached an all time low. They were wrong.

Napper's genius for torment and ingenuity knew no bounds. The massive butt stretching and pussy filling dildos were probably uncomfortable enough. However, none of the women knew that it was wired to a sound powered switch. Any shout or raised voice would activate the thing and send a much stronger bolt of electricity deep into their most private orifices. Unfortunately for the utility females, it was a game fraught with foul play, blind referees, and touchdowns. The resultant outbursts from their male antagonists kept them jerking and spasming for 90 minutes almost without break.

Time and time again, Napper, his cohorts, and guests orgasmed as the orifice plugs buried in the women reacted to noise. Each lightning bolt extracted a cheek bursting, eye popping Hmmmph! from the cock suckling women. But with their mouths sealed so tight with male flesh and the lip pressure of being crushed face down into a crotch, there was nowhere for the explosive expulsion of air to go.

"YES! GOALLLLLLL!" The female utility buried in Napper's crotch reacted with seemingly equal enthusiasm as her ass went into electrical pucker mode yet again.

"HMMMMMPHHHHHH!"

Napper tore his eyes from the screen and looked down.

"You trying to inflate me woman?" He could feel her firm rubber-sheathed breasts heaving against his knees. The raised footrest was proving to be a great idea. It ensured he could feel and savour every detail of her torment. He reached down and prodded the bulging, tight skinned, scarlet cheeks currently nuzzling his hairy thighs as the anal shocker timed out and sent a measured dose of punishment into the trussed female. The face continued to grow more scarlet by the second and the cheeks remained bloated and strained until the current ceased.

"OH! SHIT!" "FUCK ME IS THAT LINESMAN BLIND?"

"OMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRR! HMMMMMMMMMPH!" 

The shout of derision solicited another forest of bug-eyed women with hummphing cheeks and bulging bound bodies as the sound sensors activated. All six women took the brunt of their antagonists' anger at the linesman, but their bondage was so severe, the users would hardly have noticed their trauma if they weren't connected in a rather intimate fashion.

Aaron, the guy sitting on Napper's immediate left, gasped, stiffened, and pumped his personal, red faced, cock-suckling female TV stand full of semen as her dick blowing antics triggered another massive orgasm. The cinched woman gagged and swallowed desperately as her tormentor ejaculated in powerful bursts, her entire body a mass of frantic yet ruthlessly contained effort as she fought to escape the diabolic plight she found herself in. Unseen by the man she was servicing, her eyes were ranging wildly from side to side as she searched hopelessly for a way out of this torment. Her jaw ached, her lips were stretched taut around his root, and she was desperately trying to exhale and deflate her cheeks as the electricity produced humph! after humph! of unsolicited reaction. Her limbs were fighting against the bonds and achieving nothing. Unfortunately it was all wasted energy. Napper's design was flawless. All the women were so completely immobilised there was no chance to ease their situation or move even a fraction of an inch to alter their status as utility items. They were tightly parceled up, contorted, compacted, and reduced to nothing more than living pieces of sound activated furniture, their faces stuffed with male dick, and only capable of fulfilling their design function irrespective of their personal feelings on the matter.

Napper beckoned to a women in the shadows who had, until then, been relatively unmolested.

The woman moved over to him in tiny steps. Anything else was impossible. She was hobbled with a six-inch chain connecting heavy steel ankle cuffs and balanced on skyscraper heels. Her wrists were relatively free, albeit controlled by more cuffs and short chains connected to her waist-clamping belt. In addition she was sheathed in a skin tight, leather cat suit that laced the full length of each limb and up the back of the torso. The hood was an integral item that revealed only her eyes. Over-bands across the forehead and mouth merely added to an already effective silencing punishment hood.

As the tiptoeing figurine moved, it dragged a chain connected to her steel collar. A closer look revealed that the links of the chain were interlaced with a barely visible wire. Napper needed a waitress to be able to move around, but not without being constantly controlled.

The woman was well stuffed with electrical hardware and at the touch of a button could be zapped by bolts of electricity into both her orifices.

"Get me another scotch and soda woman, and make it quick." The woman scurried away as fast as she could, returning minutes later with a refilled glass. Napper took the glass and sipped at it, noting as he did the fearful eyes of the waitress staring at the appalling plight of their human entertainment centres. Sadistically, he pronounced the drink poorly mixed as an excuse.

"Aaron, tomorrow, first thing in the morning, convert this lousy cocktail waitress into my personal TV entertainment centre. She can replace this bitch after she's been shipped. And double suit her in rubber."

The hapless woman whimpered through her gag and earned herself a zap in both orifices as Napper hit a button.

"Any more of that and I'll figure out something even worse for you. Now stand there and watch what happens to women who are lax in their work, and think yourself lucky that you'll only be like that for a week or more."

With tears in her eyes, the poor woman surveyed her new role in life for the rest of the game and tried to imagine what it would be like to be converted into Napper's personal pleasure centre in a few hours. She was an aerobics instructor, and she had no doubt that Napper and his men were going to take full advantage of her flexibility and reduce her to furniture with a level of tightness that didn't bear thinking about. Secretly, she was also fighting an internal battle with her libido. Knowing that she was going to be converted into an exact replica of that helpless, cock-sucking woman set her crotch on fire. She found her gaze riveted to the continual display of bulging, cinched, rubber encased curves that was soon to be her own fate and couldn't help wondering what she was going to look like to an observer. Napper's words, 'and double suit her in rubber' left her in no doubt that her entire body would be subjected to a powerful constriction that would hold her flesh compacted and firm. Her pussy was already super wet at the thought.

Image 13

The game wore on and finally ended. The home team lost by 1 point in the last few minutes of a tense game. Tense for the players, nail biting for the spectators, and horrendous for the cock-sucking female pleasure centres.

"Okay, time to get these chicks shipped. I reckon that was a good test run. Aaron, can you remove the TVs and make sure they have 19 inch computer monitors packed with each. Max, you'll need to collect the keyboards from Computer City and make sure they fit the new head gear." He turned to the female guests. "You can stay and watch if you don't get in the way." Both nodded enthusiastically. Having experienced Napper's genius with this device they wanted more. Napper knew he had them hooked. There was no way they would blab now and ruin their chances of being involved with future kidnapped toys to play with.

He pressed another button and the pleasure centre started to tilt back, gasping and groaning as her mouth and throat were finally relieved of the task of being host to a pulsing male rod. Napper had pumped her face full of cum four times during the game, and when she managed to find a way to release the air in her bulging cheeks, he'd simply tilted her forward even more and jammed her lips tighter to his crotch to seal the leak. It felt good to feel her face pressurising as she huffed and puffed, and her cheeks becoming hard against his thighs. He had found himself shouting louder than he normally would have done for minor game rule infringements, and surmised that his subconscious was all in favour of keeping the cinched female electrically activated for as long as possible.

Max, after extricating himself from his own TV pleasure station, approached Napper with a questioning look on his face.

"So who's buying six cock sucking computer desks, Boss? And why do we need to start selling them all of a sudden?"

Napper considered him shrewdly, then decided it was okay for him to know. 

"Some Arab millionaire who writes bondage porn, actually. He reckons it will give him inspiration. So make sure all the fixtures and fittings work properly. He'll be installing at least one chick each day for office use, we don't want it to be a hassle every morning. As for selling them, well not everyone in this crazy gang works for nothing. I have to pay for bribes and hire equipment. Somebody has to pay for all that, it may as well be these whores now that you guys have finished fucking their brains out."

The ungodly protests issuing from jacked mouths resumed and Napper smirked as the hog-tied forms bulged and writhed with ineffectual effort. He had to admit, they sure looked exciting when they did that. All that taut rubber glistening and rippling, and the cinch straps groaning with strain. Every one of them were women chosen for their fantastic bodies. They all had firm, generous tits, curvaceous asses, shapely legs, nipped natural waistlines and flaring hips; they were in fact, perfect for converting into helpless male sex toys and furniture. With the additions of tight rubber and even tighter corseting, they became staggering to behold.

"Get used to it girls. This is all you can look forward to from now on, and whatever else Ben Araf decides to do with you, of course. But I have a feeling when he sees you all trussed up like this, you are all going to spend a large part of your lives as relaxation furniture for him and his friends. Anyway, a few months in this format and you'll probably be permanently in a hog-tie, with or without the straps."

The groans got louder, as did the futile attempts to get free. Max was still hanging around, so Napper called him back over.

"Y'know, those air freight containers are big enough to ship them as is. Strip em' down, toilet and feed them, then re-assemble them all to desk mode and shrink-wrap them. We'll palletise each one separate. You can plug gag them with the inflatables. That will keep them quiet even with the jaw jacks still in. And it'll give Ben Araf his jollies when he opens the containers. Make sure they are nice and tight. Size down the arm-sheaths, hoods, and suits and make sure the ratchets are tightened down a few more notches. I want to see at least an inch or two more bite and see those cinches really digging deep. They have to be delivered in the tightest bondage you can manage. No movement at all. I need to impress this guy as I think he'll be a good customer. The only thing I want to see moving is their eyes. Get it?"

Max grinned widely and nodded enthusiastically. By the time he'd finished tightening up the ratchets the women would look like female Michelin men. His eyes wandered to the voluptuous ass of the nearest chick and her bulging tits and he almost came in his pants as the mental image of tightening up ratchets and cinching that superb rump into a bulging, strap bisected series of taut rubber curvatures flashed through his mind. The tits were another matter. Rock hard and ready to burst like ripe melons was his personal preference, especially on the one he was looking at, formerly his parole officer. Now there was one bitch that was really going to be tight. She was forever flaunting her body and wearing a two piece suit with a tight pencil skirt that drove most of the parolees crazy. She seemed to derive pleasure from being a total dick tease with men she held power over. Well now she certainly was a dick tease, but one that was completely usable. Damn she looked good all trussed up in that rubber, and she'd looked and felt even better when he'd stuffed her face with his cock.

"Oh by the way, did Aaron finish the programming changes on the PC's for this shipment?"

"Sure did boss. Every time those stupid Windows chimes go off or that 'fatal error' screen comes up, they get the big butt zap. They're going to be forever trying to blow up Ben Whatsit through his dick. Nothing quite like a bug-eyed bound female with bulging cheeks huffing and puffing on your cock to get your attention, is there?" He eyed the row of helpless straining female forms with relish and left the room.


CHAPTER ELEVEN - A JOINING OF MINDS

Eddie woke up late the next morning. He felt exhausted, almost as if he'd been out all night partying. His head ached abysmally, and all the aspirin in the world seemed barely enough to kill the pain.

He lay for a while gathering his thoughts, and then in one swift move swept aside the crumpled bed sheets and swung himself up into a sit at the edge of the bed.

The room swam and his head felt like it was going to explode. He cursed to himself and reached for a cheroot.

"Fuck! That was stupid move."

The weed burst into flame as he applied a match and he drew the acrid fumes deeply into his lungs. Nothing like a little nicotine fix to get the brain into gear.

A pot of cold stale coffee sat on the percolator, but Eddie felt he couldn't face the complex technical task of making fresh right then. A cup of seven-day-old brown sludge hit the microwave a minute later and he waited impatiently as the machine kicked some life into the noxious brew.

Веер! Веер! Веер!

The micro timed out.

"Ah! Shut the fuck up you stupid machine. I know it's done." He reached in, grabbed the cup and slammed the door in disgust. Just lately the slightest things were becoming major annoyances. For a second there he had the urge to punch the shit out of the microwave for being so offensively efficient and noisy.

Swapping between gulps of hot bitter coffee and lungfuls of smoke, Eddie had his breakfast as his mind ran over current events.

Claudine was still out there, in the hands of a sadistic nutcase. But where? Where the fuck had Napper got these women stashed away? And who was leaking information to him that enabled the asshole to second guess every move the cops made.

There was a knock at the door, and Eddie moved to the hall, picking up his spare gun, a 9mm Browning, from the bedside table on the way.

"Who is it?" The door had no peephole, and just added to the list of stupid annoyances, even though Eddie never used them anyway. A favoured way for hit men to rub someone out and be sure the deed was done, was to wait until the peephole went dark with an applied eye and then fire a bullet straight through it. It guaranteed a bullet going straight through the grey matter and taking off the back of a person's head as both slug and peephole metalwork travelled through the brain.

"Agent Wallis, FBI Open up Valenski, we need to talk." Eddie frowned. The last thing he needed right now was a bunch of Feds stomping all over the case. He decided to be awkward.

"Yeah! And I'm the sugar plum fairy. Shove some ID under the door or it's gonna get some new ventilation holes."

There was a shuffling sound and a card appeared. Eddie looked down but didn't even bother to pick it up. He already knew it was authentic from the photo. Only a Fed would have picture that ugly on his ID anyway. It was the guy from the Cassidy kidnap scene. He flicked back the dead bolt and turned the knob, leaving the door ajar as he walked away.

Wallis cautiously pushed the door open, saw Eddie, and came in. He hesitated as his card skidded underfoot, then looking annoyed, bent down and picked it up. 

"I've been trying to catch hold of you for days, Valenski. Are you avoiding me?"

 Eddie scowled.

"You could say that. Last time the Feds got involved with me and a Napper case, my girl almost got her clit ripped off."

Wallis looked uncomfortable. He'd researched the case and knew all about the goofs made by some of his colleagues.

"Okay so we're not perfect Eddie, but these things happen. What we can do is make sure they don't happen again."

Eddie looked totally unconvinced and snapped back irritably.

"So what's the score? You've got everything I have from the lieutenant. What do you expect me to add?"

Wallis sat himself down, looked suggestively at the coffeepot and settled back. Eddie frowned and looked at the percolator.

"It's ancient shit, help yourself. You want fresh coffee you make it. Faucet is there, filters are there, and the coffee is in the freezer."

Wallis pried himself out of the chair and moved to the kitchenette. As he washed out the decomposing dregs of the coffee grounds that were growing a heavy batch of penicillin, he began to talk.

"Something about this one is bothering me, Eddie. Er! You don't mind me calling you Eddie do you?"

Eddie shook his head. "I suppose not."

"This Napper guy is almost 'superhuman. Either that or his intelligence gathering makes our outfit look like kindergarten. He has to have an insider in Oklahoma. The trouble is we ran everyone at that cop-shop a dozens times, and anyone in the county or state that could have access to Napper data and we come up zilch. 

"The only thing we have come up with is three cops on the take from the mob, seven closet gays, two married dykes, and a convicted con who served time in the big house."

Eddie flashed a searching look at him and so Wallis explained.

"While he was out on parole, he somehow got past the security checks for cops and became one himself. The irony of it is that he's apparently the best cop around by all accounts. He's straight as can be and very good at his job.

Eddie stayed stone-faced. He knew all about Rocky Weisman. Good cop. Was once a seriously bad dude, but then he genuinely tried to go straight and make something out of himself.

"So Rocky's busted and going back to the big house for parole violation I suppose?"

Wallis hit the 'On' button on the reloaded percolator and turned with a surprised look on his face.

"Rocky? I didn't mention his name. You knew?"

Eddie's face was scornful.

"Of course I knew. He's not the only good cop around, you know. I can smell an ex con at 50 yards. Rocky told me the truth when I finally faced him with it. Question is, who else knows now?"

Wallis eyed him carefully before answering.

"Only me so far. I'm the agent in charge of the FBI team investigating the Napper case. I have all the data that came in."

Eddie looked him straight in the eye as he tried to assess his character.

"So you get the option of fucking up a guy for life who only tried to go straight, or 'losing' some files? Rocky's bust record is only topped by mine, you know." 

Wallis pursed his lips and rubbed his chin.

"I'll think about it. For now I'll keep the files that link him and the old rap sheet to myself. But I'm promising nothing. This could get me thrown out of the FBI."

Eddie nodded appreciatively. He was slowly warming to Wallis. For a Fed he seemed like a decent enough guy.

"So maybe I do know something the lieutenant's files don't give you. Not that I'm keeping anything from him, it's just hunches." Wallis paused with a cup halfway to his lips.

"I'm all for hunches, especially good ones from a guy who knows Napper inside out. In your language I've got jack-shit to work with. So spill it, I want to hear it."

A brief grin flashed across Eddie's face as Wallis' normally cultured, speech lapsed and mimicked his own streetwise slang. Then he shuffled his feet and looked a bit unsure of himself as he prepared to air his hunches.

"I think this is a revenge thing. I don't think Napper, or whoever it is, is doing this for profit like last time. Oh, I know the original case was a mix of revenge for getting cashiered out of the army, but his prime motive was profit and having chicks around to fuck. This time I think the prime motive is pure revenge and not necessarily against chicks involved in his downfall. The missing parole officer broad is a prime example. She never even heard of the Napper or was even remotely involved in his case, directly or by connection through others." 

Wallis sat down, took a sip of the coffee and then urged Eddie to continue. 

"Go on, I'm all ears."

Eddie thought about it for a minute.

"Well my gut feel is that he is setting up the department to look like fools. He was an egomaniac, and this copycat is probably the same. My guess is that this is a close friend or acquaintance who was attached to the Napper at brain and dick. Napper was his idol. He'll be feeling everything Napper did; if he were alive that is."

Eddie rose, poured himself a decent cup of coffee and then turned back to Wallis. "

I reckon these chicks are going to turn up right under our noses, or at least some of them. Which leads me to believe that we should be watching Oklahoma, as that is where he can cause maximum humiliation for the department that busted him. Maybe he's processing them up here in the Northwest, but I think they'll be heading south as soon as he's ready.

"You might keep a watch on any tankers heading south along Interstate 90. Last time he shipped a whole bunch of them inside a gas tanker."

Wallis took out a memo pad and jotted down notes.

"It's done, and we'll watch the back roads as well. Anything else?"

Eddie rubbed his chin.

"Yeah! Something about that parole chick bothers me but I can't figure how she fits in. I reckon we're missing something there as well. I was going to check out her current and past parolee's and -!"

Wallis interrupted before he could finish.

"It's already done. There's a file a foot thick on her in my car. Nothing so far. I haven't found anything, but I'll have a copy sent to you in case you spot something."

Eddie nodded then thought about another event that was bothering him.

"There's one other chick with no connection. At least none that we can see. A broad called Natasha Olsen vanished from the Washington Department of Transportation. The snatch had all the hallmarks of a Napper operation. But again, no family links, business links, or any other links to Napper, past or present. One real flimsy link between her and the Irish chick, but I stress, real flimsy, almost pure coincidence, if you believe in that. But I know Napper. He doesn't do anything without good reason. There has to be a clue or a connection there as well."

Eddie scratched his head and then hurriedly remembered not to.

"Y'know Wallis, I don't think I can do any more up here. I'm thinking I should head back to Oklahoma. If our guess is right, the Napper will follow and we can lead him back to my home turf and nail the son-of-a-bitch there. I also have a gut feeling that the kidnapped chicks are there along with my Claudine. So unless you actually need me to stay up here in Seattle I'll move my ass south." 

Wallis thought it over.

"Maybe you're right Eddie. I'll head south after you, I have a few final leads to chase up here and then I'll meet you down there. Are you leaving today?"

 Eddie nodded.

"To be honest, I wanna get back to see the specialist back in Oklahoma who was fixing my busted head. I don't trust the quacks up here. Better the devil you know, if ya catch my drift. I'm thinking that the impacted bone needs a bit more pulling out. This mother fucking headache is busting my balls."

Two hours later, Eddie had said his goodbyes to the Seattle police precinct and was hightailing it down the I-90. As luck would have it, he was outside Yakima only a few miles west of the state line when an old acquaintance appeared in his mirror. It was the gorilla shades from Cassidy's kidnap crime scene. He glanced down at the speedo.

"Fuck! 174 mph."

The gorilla was going to have a field day, it was a 70-mph zone. For a second or two Eddie was tempted to floor the gas and leave the patrol bike in a cloud of rubber smoke. With a top speed of 235 mph the gorilla's bike didn't have a hope in hell of keeping up. Eddie knew from experience that hi-way patrol bikes topped out at around 180 mph. But something stayed his foot. They would block the state border and he would be held pending his Captain bailing him out. That would take a day at least, and although there was no reason he had to be in Oklahoma right away, he had a nagging memory of something that had to be done right away. As it was, the 2000-mile trip was going to take around thirty- six hours of non-stop driving if he stayed within speed limits. Eddie was hoping to knock eight to ten hours off that by giving the Terminator its head out in the remote regions. Cruising at 200 mph sure ate up the miles and kept him awake. 

He hit the brakes and 'the shades' almost ended up in his trunk. What followed next was a triumphant hour of lecturing and fucking around by the state trooper as Eddie sat seething and silent.

The 'shades' almost cracked up with glee when he finally handed Eddie a ticket for $5000. He watched the swaggering asshole go back to his bike and then screwed up the ticket and stuffed it in the ashtray along with a pile of festering cigar butts. That was another little problem F.B.I Agent Wallis might be willing to help with in return for co-operation.

He reached into his pocket and fished out the cheroot pack. As he did so, something fell onto the seat beside him. Puzzled, Eddie picked it up.

It was an airline ticket. Oklahoma to Seattle, one way, dated for use two days from now, in the name of Eddie Valenski.

At first he was completely at a loss to explain it, and then the light dawned.

Napper was setting him up again. The ticket had to be a plant. But what the hell for? Why would the Napper want to make it appear that he had flown back to Seattle?

The Aston Terminator rolled into the Oklahoma PD car park twenty hours after leaving Seattle. As a Cannonball Run driver, Eddie qualified. Twice in the desert he had floored the gas and obscured his rear number plates to pursuing hopefuls of the various State Patrol troopers with a cloud of dust. One county sheriff's deputy was still trying to extricate his police cruiser from a muddy creek bed in Idaho. The young prick didn't have a clue about high-speed pursuit. He'd been watching The Dukes of Hazard too long.

But now he was here. Eddie's first instinct was to fall asleep at the wheel, but the clamour of construction work gained his attention.

The first thing he noticed was that the entire front of the Oklahoma City PD was shrouded in tarps'. In addition the entire east side of the car park was a jumble of porta-cabins. As he looked over, the door of one opened and his Captain appeared with a sheaf of papers in hand.

The Captain stopped mid stride when he saw Eddie's expensive Brit iron parked a few feet away, and he changed course and came over. Eddie rolled down the window.

"You're back then. How many fucking tickets do we have to fix this time, Valenski?"

Eddie smiled grimly.

"About four. Reckon a few of those state patrol biker dudes eyeballed my plates before I dusted them."

The Captain shook his head and cursed softly.

"I suppose I really should be investigating where the fuck you got the money to buy this road-runner, but I reckon it would be down to that rich chick you conned into marrying you. So what are you sitting there for grinning like a shit-eating ape. Get your ass into gear and nail this Napper scumbag. Congress, the Feds, even the Attorney General are all chewing my ass to get results."

Eddie passed a hand over his weary face as mention of his Claudine revived the thoughts that she was still in the hands of Napper.

"First things first, Cap'. I gotta see the doc about this head of mine, and after that I need a whole heap of sleep. Believe me, I want my chick back and that asshole behind bars quicker than you do. But right now I'm dead beat and I can't even think straight. I'll be no good to anyone in this condition."

The Cap' studied him.

"You sure do look like shit. Maybe you're right. So get the fuck out of here and get back as soon as you can." He started to turn away, but Eddie called him back. 

"What's all this shit about Cap?" He gesticulated towards the shambles of contractor tackle and workers all over the place." The Cap glanced around him. 

"Oh that. Of course you were up in the Northwest when all this started. The powers that be in city hall decided that the cop-shop was finally due for a face- lift, only fifty fucking years overdue I might add.

"We're all operating out of these rabbit hutches till its finished. Hope to fuck we don't have a twister running through or else Oklahoma PD might become New Mexico PD You're in er-trailer 16, over there. You and seven other detectives." 

Eddie absorbed that and waved goodbye without answering. He was deep in thought. It was another of those déjà vu things going on. He could have sworn the Cap' had already explained because he knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. He gunned the Terminator and pulled away. There was something he had to attend to right away, if he could remember what the fuck it was. Holy shit, his head was pounding like a jackhammer. Oh yeah! The doc. That was it or was it? No, there was something else.


CHAPTER TWELVE-A PIECE OF BOUNCING ASS

Napper looked over his shoulder at the wriggling bundle of rubber cocooned femininity that was strapped down to the anchor points in the floor of the van with load binders.

"So you want to get out of that thing and travel in a more comfortable mode, something a bit cooler huh?"

"Mmmmph! Mrrrrr!" Natasha squirmed in her bonds and cast pleading eyes at him. Napper rubbed his chin with his fingers and looked thoughtfully up and down the endless empty desert road. Then his eyes came back to a long steel square section bar lying beside the woman and some strange molded shapes. As if making a decision he pulled over and went around to the rear of the van. After a final check of the road both ways he opened the doors.

"I think I can accommodate you. You'll make a nice bouncing piece of ass," he added with a smirk, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he patted her rounded rump. Natasha didn't like the sound of that. Twenty minutes later, she was wishing she had opted to remain in the stifling cocoon.

Napper's idea of air-conditioned travel was shaping up to be something quite traumatic.

She was still encased in the tight, metallic sheen, rubber suit, and all she had achieved with her pleas was a replacement of her bindings for similar straps of a different colour. Now they were red instead of black. At least the cocoon over- sheath was gone. She grunted and mmmphed loudly as Napper worked three of the many ratchets vigorously, compressing her tits tightly into her knees and extruding her folded butt into an even tighter profile.

Fifteen feet behind the van, Natasha was perched precariously, or seemingly so, on a single trailer wheel that was connected to the vehicle by a long, inflexible, steel tow bar. The format was alarming.

She was basically folded, then inverted, her rump taut and thrusting at the pinnacle of her contorted profile, head at the base, with knees bent at 90 degrees, calves and heels forming the same line as the tow bar. The vertical part of the arrangement looked like an ice cream cone, her cinched thighs forming the tapering column, and her generously firm and rounded rump bursting from the uppermost, super tight, ratchet strap like a rounded rubberised scoop of delicious femininity. It certainly looked good enough to lick.

If the whole arrangement looked precarious, Natasha could attest to the fact that it was not.

The butt rearing shape of her compacted shape was in fact mounted onto a steel and fibreglass pre-formed arrangement that denied any movement whatsoever. She couldn't move, make a sound or do anything to avoid whatever Napper had planned for her.

Napper finished some final adjustments, clicked the ratchet binders even tighter, and ignored the grunts and groans as she was compacted even tighter. He then stood back to admire his work. The woman had ceased to exist. In her place was a provocative, upward-thrusting column of rubberised curves.

The taut smooth edifice of Natasha's bottom was erotically and rigidly presented. Her thighs were clamped tightly together and deeply indented by powerful cinching straps. Even though her thighs were firm and fit, the immense pressure was extruding the unstrapped flesh into bulging curvatures of rubberised extravagance. Natasha's head, currently beneath her form, was a black smooth ovoid of tight rubber hooding that showed only her eyes and nose. Her arms were tightly clamped to another steel column and she looked as if she was holding the axle of the wheel.

He slapped the inviting buttocks as the bound woman whimpered, her thighs swelling and bulging even more in the tightly cinched embrace of unbreakable strapping and her lusciously displayed bottom flexing and wobbling with muscle effort. Napper grinned as her efforts caused the balloon tyre of the road wheel and soft suspension to bounce slightly. It looked a little too soft to adequately support her weight, but then he did have an ulterior motive invested in the design. 

Reaching down he picked up the trailer connection plug and inserted it firmly into the outlet at the back of the vehicle, in a strange way, deriving pleasure from plugging in a woman who he had successfully converted in to a wheeled column of complete helplessness. Now the inserts buried deeply in the woman and hidden by her suit were connected to his controls. Only the wire appearing from between her clamped ankles gave a clue as to the final destination of the multi-core cable. He knew the inverted woman would be able to see that trailer connection, so near and yet so far, a connection that had the potential to feed unthinkable torment into her bound form.

Natasha trembled and redoubled her efforts as his feet disappeared from her somewhat limited vision. Miserably she contemplated what she must look like and took small comfort in the fact that she was probably unrecognizable and a long way from home where friends might see her demise. Nevertheless, it was a crushingly humiliating situation to find oneself in. She still hadn't connected her current plight with whatever he had planned for her.

She could hear footsteps receding, and then the heard the slam of a car door. A few seconds later came the sound of an engine starting and she felt the vibrations transmitted through the tow bar. There was a slight jerk as the drive was engaged, and suddenly the ground was moving below her at a steadily increasing rate. The impact of realising Napper's intent to actually drive with her bound up like a hideously displayed and contorted sex object suddenly hit home.

She heaved at the bindings and screamed into her gag, but achieved nothing. Napper's restraints were, as usual, overwhelmingly effective. Even the muffled sounds of her pleas were unlikely to be heard by anyone inside the vehicle.

Napper grinned widely, adjusted his rear view mirror and gloated at the vision of twin hemispherical rubberised buttock cheeks showing above the lower edge of the back window. The hemispheres seemed to wax and wane like a bisected rising moon, popping up and then dropping back to normal level. It seemed his soft suspension arrangement and the balloon tyre were paying dividends, even on a relatively smooth road. The rubberised, bound, trailer female was bouncing up and down nicely as the soft suspension flexed, whilst he sat in a luxurious driving seat, completely isolated from the inconsistencies of the road surface and remote from the sounds of her personal hell. It all helped to objectify the erotic shape in his mirror.

He eased down on the gas pedal and watched as the needle crept up to 50 miles per hour, revelling in the feeling of power it gave him to consign the bouncing bound object behind to an ever increasing torment with a mere touch of his foot. The bisected peach-like image of her bondage-sculpted rump was rising and falling in his mirror and the frequency of her bounding antics was increasing. Then a pothole provided him with a full buttock to back of knee vision of sculpted, straining payload.

For a few fleeting moments the entire rear of her cinched thighs topped by the flare of taut folded buttocks was framed by the rear window as the bound woman bounced clean off the road. A split second later she had vanished, only to reappear in a series of diminishing bounces.

Napper was so intent on his rear view mirror, he inadvertently wandered onto the rough hard shoulder. The tightly bound trailer-object went berserk, bouncing and jiving like a wild thing and providing a great rear window display of her taut, shining rump. Even at this range he could see that the powerful muscles of her buttocks were a mass of animated exertion as she fought to escape the ordeal. 

He hauled the van back onto the asphalt and chortled to himself as the errant wheeled butt thing swerved and weaved before resuming an obedient track behind the tow vehicle.

This was fun! He could drive anywhere, in any fashion, and the cavorting, sensuously displayed ass would perform for his delectation. It was supremely satisfying to transport a curvaceous woman in such a fiendishly utilised and embarrassing way. Conversion into a tightly bound mobile pillar of sexually inviting curves had to be the ultimate in helplessness. Besides, he could fuck or cane her at any time without needing to release any restraints.

Now there was a thought for the future. The addition of wheel driven canes would really add to the image.

He suddenly spotted a stretch of rumble-strip at the side of the road and veered the van over so that it was passing centrally between the wheels. A glance in the mirror appraised him of the fact that his positioning was dead right. The single wheel of the trailer was running right on the strip. A pair of jellified, vibrating buttocks could attest to the effect it was having on the trailer. He was sure that by now, Natasha was regretting her earlier attempts to gain freedom from the bondage she had endured in the van. He could imagine her straining and fighting to be free of her predicament as he pushed his foot further down on the gas and ran the full length of the mile long rumble strip at high speed. Natasha rapidly became a blurred image of torment as her entire form was subjected to a bone shuddering, high frequency torment.

The crazily vibrating image in his mirror settled down to a constant mooning of rising and falling bottom lobes as he pulled back onto the flat, and checked the road ahead before turning his eyes to the map on the seat beside him. This road ran straight through another 200 miles of desert before nearing the distant Phoenix. Time enough for the butt ornament attached to the back of his vehicle to experience full measure of her inescapable plight.

He was about to look back to the road when his eyes caught sight of side road that ran parallel to the interstate. It was listed as an old road, probably disused now, and certainly in a state of disrepair. In fact it was ideal to maintain a nice active entertainment in his mirrors. He felt sure Natasha would not object even though it appeared to be about 20 miles longer by taking that route.

Image 14

The turn was only a mile ahead, and as it happened, timely in appearing. In the distance, way back beyond his buttock-bouncing trailer was the smudged image of a faster vehicle closing the gap. This wasn't the time to display his penchant for trailer design. Napper swung the big vehicle off the main highway and was treated to a side mirror view of his securely trussed sex object as it encountered the first potholes and ruts of a very long road.

She looked superb. But it was hard to imagine that the surreal, rubberised shape bumping along on that wheel was a real live woman, stiffly bound, compressed and sculpted into a blatant sexual object with her cinched thighs mushrooming into that bisected giant peach of female buttocks. The result of all that strap shaping and her contorted position made her appear so incredibly smooth and curvaceous in her rubber sheathing, bounding along on her precarious single wheel like a demented grasshopper, her bottom wobbling and juddering with all the qualities of a firm jelly, despite the incredible tightness of her bonds. It was a mute testament to the body pounding jolts she was having to absorb. 

The hot desert sun was glinting from the silvereen suit with shards of light that enhanced the polished effect of tight latex. She was so impossibly helpless and tormented as she bounced along in her super humiliating mode of transport. It was an image that brought surges of enjoyment to Napper's already inflamed crotch. The fifteen-foot tow hitch certainly worked well in establishing her remoteness from the vehicle and ensured that even if she did manage a loud plea for mercy it would go unheard. The road ahead was sure to be full of twists and turns, and Napper knew that he was in for a plethora of deliciously arousing views from all of his mirrors. He laughed loudly to himself as a particularly deep pothole on a sharp bend afforded him a side mirror view of the oscillating, well-traumatised female on tow with a foot of daylight clearly showing below her single wheel mount.

It made him so horny to see such a curvaceous woman balanced on her head, her butt thrust up so lewdly, superbly displayed, and bound so tight that she couldn't move a muscle. She was nothing more than a speeding pillar of sexual allure, with as much control over her immediate future as a boat trailer.

Natasha was an executive in the transport department before her capture, slightly arrogant in her persona, but she could hardly have imagined herself in a more devastatingly vulnerable and humiliating circumstance. She sure as hell was going to have a whole new perspective on the state of the nation's roads after this. But at this moment she was nothing more than a wheeled sex toy; a trailer-butt.

Napper watched as a relatively flat and straight section of the rutted road allowed the bounding buttock image to resume a relatively stable appearance in his rear mirror, and he could see the sculpted shape of her rubber encased pussy, including the vague outline of her hidden insert. Time to switch the bitch on. His hand reached out and flipped on the sidelights.

The dancing butt lobes at the bottom of the rear window seemed unchanged, but that constant oscillation was controlled by road surface, not electrical input. He knew that at that moment, Natasha was being pussy-vibrated and experiencing massive contractions in both her lower orifices as pulses of power through the electrodes on the outer casings of her vibrators contracted the muscles of both holes to puckering tightness. Whether she liked it or not her pussy and ass were clamping tight onto the invaders in powerful unsolicited bursts. The side light circuit was not directly connected to her dildo electrodes, and merely supplied inexhaustible power to the vibrator sections, but the flasher relay did control a tens unit mounted on the dashboard and that was wired directly to her insert electrodes. He adjusted the pulse rate to 8, which had already proved to be the rate that this particular woman could not resist. One van and 15 feet of trailer hitch behind him, two warm orifices that were currently suckling helplessly on copper side-plated dildos reacted with a mind of their own as they began to pout and pucker with mind-bending ferocity. It was only a matter of time before the bouncing buttock trailer erupted into orgasm and added a whole new dimension to all the straining and bulging going on back there as Natasha desperately tried to escape her new air conditioned transport system. It was difficult to imagine the torment going on out there from his safe comfortable environment inside the vehicle. He knew by experience that she would already be saturated in the juices of her own arousal and fighting an internal battle against the forces of her own libido. Her pulsing pussy would be literally squelching as it salivated and was forced to squeeze with each contraction. The input was guaranteed to fire up her arousal when a pair of very personal electrified orifices forced her to massage the vibrating monsters buried within them.

He hoped Natasha appreciated the fact that she was probably going to be the first woman ever to achieve orgasm whilst speeding along and inverted. As it happened, Natasha's initial fear had metamorphosed into anger at this point. Anger at a male who was using her helpless bound body as a dick-hardening medium. What made it all the worse was that there was absolutely nothing she could do to alter that situation and she could almost feel his lecherous eyes boring into her upended rump as it jiggled and flexed with each jolt. Napper could keep her as a bouncing, wheeled, butt ornament for as long as he chose, and she knew that. She was also aware that the imagery she was presenting would more than likely ensure an extended, traumatic journey so as to keep him hot and aroused for as long as possible.

Natasha gasped, lost the battle against her surging libido and writhed as the third massively unwanted orgasm began to erupt in her upended pussy. Mortified at her own response to the inescapable and relentless stimulation, she tried to override her body's betrayal. It was hopeless. Just the mere fact that a pair of male eyes were watching as she strained and convulsed in her bonds made the onrushing orgasmic event gather speed until it smashed into her like a tidal wave. 

The focus of her fury grinned to himself as the trailer weaved erratically. He could see the buttocks pulsing with carnal energy and guessed the cause. The rubber-sheathed, blood engorged shape of her pussy mounds were suckling frantically on the massive girth of the buried dildo. It looked like Natasha was having a Big Event. His butt-trailer was going ape-shit with a strange, bouncing zigzag as her explosive carnal event transmitted random inertia to an otherwise stable device. The speeding trailer was hopping from side to side in a demented dance of carnal fervor. Either that or Natasha was deliberately trying to show off her rump, and he doubted that. His hand reached out and callously notched the Ten's unit to a full strength 12, an action that seemed to intensify the wheeled butt thing's deliciously lustful antics. Sadistically he waited until the bound woman was seemingly at a peak, and then switched her off, waited till a mile or so of rough road had passed and her thwarted orgasm was declining, then switched her back on.

Just as it was getting really interesting, the image was blotted out when they hit a section of dusty road. Natasha was sure to be having fun back there now in that choking dust cloud. Up ahead some one or two miles distant, according to the map there was a ford. That should cool her off for a while, and running the trailer through a car wash became a chore he wouldn't have to attend to. Running through the water at 20 mph or so would soon wash her off. Leaving her switched on, he settled back and began to enjoy the drive. There was something about the remoteness of the desert that he liked. Pretty soon he was engaged in deep thought about the future and the bouncing, dust-caked trailer was forgotten as he mused over new ideas to torment women and turn their own sex drive against them.

Suddenly, as he rounded a bend, Napper was confronted by the ford. A two foot deep torrent rushing across the road, swollen by a recent desert storm, and there was no time to stop. He needed to make a spot decision. Two feet of water would put the head of his bouncing butt-trailer underwater. So he figured that by going through fast the vehicle would plough a trough for the following trailer. He gunned he motor and hit the water at nearly 40 miles an hour. Instantly all the windows were shrouded in a white sheet of spray and his rear view was blotted out by a massive rooster tail of water. He flipped on the rear wiper and seconds later heaved a sigh of relief. There was the bouncing, bound rump, streaming water, glistening and sparkling with a varnish-like coating of water that displayed her titanic, straining efforts to escape in a most uplifting way. The cinched edifice of womanhood was really pulsing and bulging with effort now as she bounced erratically along on her wheel. It never occurred to him that the water had temporarily shorted out some circuits and as a result she was receiving spark plug voltage in both her beleaguered orifices.

Some 74 miles down the road, Napper could contain himself no longer. The imagery of that incredible rear view was just too much to refuse. He pulled the van off the road and brought it to a halt.

By then Natasha's short circuit had dried out, and Napper was none the wiser to her additional torment. All he knew was that the allure of her presented butt was still there for the taking.

Switching the sidelights, and the woman, off, he got out and walked to the rear where the butt-trailer waited. Nothing had changed despite the horrendous buffeting meted out by the road. She was still a rigid edifice of cinched curves and smooth rubber. Faint mewing sounds issued from the hood as the bound sex object pleaded for an end to her torment. Napper simply unzipped his pants and released the throbbing monster within. It was a simple matter to unzip the crotch of the inverted Natasha, and standing on the tow bar he removed the drenched dildo and allowed it to hang from its cable. Leaning forward, Napper bored into the slick unresisting pussy, burying his hard shaft to the hilt in one swift thrust. The trailer moaned and squirmed and he could feel her taut buttocks tensing against his thighs as he used the curved swelling of her upturned rump like a cushion.

Natasha couldn't move a muscle as she was vertically pumped and invaded by the hot throbbing rod of manhood. Like a stiff rubber edifice, she just squirmed and pulsed as he used her like an object of masturbation. Together, female trailer and molester bounced in unison on the soft suspension; and then in a raging burst of lust, Napper exploded into her with hurricane force. He thrust deep and powerfully as the surge came, and felt the rubberised column of womanhood swell and strain in her bonds. Seven or eight times he withdrew and then plunged back in with the same carnal urge, his hip bones impacting and flattening the taut lobes of her bottom as if they were great resilient jellies. The trailer butt object moaned, bounced on its suspension and strained against the cinching. But the ratchet binders held her firm and presented.

For a while he just leaned into her, his spent shaft waning, and then just as quickly as he had entered her, he withdrew. Natasha felt a surge of relief. Now with his lust satisfied he would surely remove her from this diabolical device. 

She was wrong. Napper re-stuffed her pussy with the dildo, zipped her up and within a few minutes the fuckable rubber-sheathed female edifice was back in motion. It amused him to think that in her present format, she couldn't allow his seed to drain. He was no longer towing a mere butt-trailer. Now she was a cum tanker. He flicked on the sidelights and settled back in the seat as the miles flashed beneath him. Natasha's plight was out of mind as he contemplated the next move in his crusade to ruin the credibility of the Oklahoma PD.


CHAPTER THIRTEEN - A LEAD AT LAST

Eddie was back at the office five days after first pulling into Oklahoma City. The Doc had advised him to take a day off or face a nervous breakdown, hemorrhage, or worse if he kept pushing the envelope before his head was fully healed. Eddie partially took his advice, initially intending to maybe take a full night's sleep. But in the final analysis, the moment his head hit the pillow he was out to the world until he had woken up an hour ago. It seemed he had slept for four days or more. At least his head seemed a mite better. Maybe it was for the good. Now he could get to grips with the problem of the Napper and get his girl back.

He walked towards trailer 16, but then decided to sidetrack and take a peek into the tarp-covered enclave of the old office building.

It was a mess. The entire front façade had been ripped off and was being replaced by a prestigious columned portal that would be more suited to the White House. He shook his head in disbelief. These city hall types loved to waste money. 

His eyes roamed over the rest of the project, including a billboard with the contractor's name. For a second it didn't register, and then something clicked. The name on that board was familiar. Now where the hell had he seen it before? 

Try as he might, Eddie couldn't bring it to mind. Almost absent-mindedly Eddie wandered into the gutted building, nodding curtly to hard hatted workers who seemed about to ask him to leave, but then saw the badge hanging on his belt. 

His old office had almost ceased to exist. It was an empty shell, walls ripped out, even his favourite private shitter was wrecked, but at least it looked as if they were merely replacing it, not eliminating it. All his best cases had been solved in that tiny hall of contemplation. A new square column had appeared right in the middle of the office, but due to the fact that the other walls had been pushed back and rebuilt, it didn't really reduce the space.

"What's that for?" The worker who was at that moment finishing the application of plaster boarding turned towards him. For a second there was a look of surprise on the guy's face and Eddie had the distinct feeling he knew him, but he brushed it aside. Probably some Joe he had busted way back who had settled down to a steady job. The guy looked past Eddie to a building inspector who was approaching from behind and the puzzlement seemed to vanish. He smiled and answered, somewhat loudly as if wanting both Eddie and the inspector to hear. 

"Utility shaft. It carries all the new air conditioning ducts, cables and all that junk." Eddie nodded and the guy went back to work.

As he wandered around, Eddie realised that the entire project was taking on the shape and design of something that was already in his head. He knew before he turned every corner what to expect. It was weird. Almost as if he had studied the plans himself. He put it down to his knowledge of the building over the 23 years he'd served there. There was only so much alteration that could be done without knocking the place down, and so it was bound to conform basically to the old design.

After ten minutes he went back out, stopping only to watch as one of three huge columns were lowered into place at the front entrance. It took a while as the guys were busy connecting a gazillion service cables and pipes beneath the columns before they were finally seated on their bases. Clearly the design concept was to disguise and hide as much service utility stuff as possible inside ordinary pieces of the structure. Great concept he thought, until the plumbing fucks up. Then what? Rip the building down to shift a jammed mega-turd.

The column settled down with a slight bump and after securing it into place, he was waved through by the safety crew.

Trailer 16 wasn't as bad as expected. At least it was clean and new. Space was another matter. It was packed with sweaty detectives struggling to pass each other in a sea of filing cabinets. The air-conditioner was busted, but some enterprising character had already requisitioned a fan from somewhere.

"Hah! Look who just rolled in. The Napper is turning himself in."

Eddie scowled at Rocky who was wearing a shit-eating grin.

"Can it, asshole. It ain't funny. By the way, I want a quiet word with you when you have a minute."

Rocky sensed the seriousness in his voice and his smile faded. He half inclined his head towards the back of the office where a figure was stooped and peering into a filing cabinet.

"Anything to do with our 'friend' back there?" Rocky asked.

Eddie eyed the figure and realised that it was Agent Wallis. He nodded imperceptibly and lowered his voice.

'Yep! But nothing to sweat about right now." Rocky took the hint.

"How's the head, Eddie?"

"Not bad. Seems the long rest did some good. Anything new come in on the case?" Eddie's mind conjured up the image of Claudine in some diabolical plight and the old urgency came back with a flash. Too much time had been wasted due to this fucking head injury, but now it was time to put a lid on this thing.

Wallis came back towards him and gave a cursory nod of greeting. He looked tired, and Eddie felt a bit guilty that the man had probably been doing his job whilst he was out cold for several days.

"Hi Eddie. It seems we were right. Our team just found an abandoned van in the west side. It was hired in Seattle, by you, and dumped here. Seems like Napper has followed as we expected and he's still trying to implicate you. According to the hire company his driving license was yours. Just as a matter of principle, I have to ask, do you still have yours?" Eddie fished his out and handed it to Wallis, who compared it with a photocopy.

"Hmmm! Pretty good, but not quite good enough. Notice the bottom corner? Your real license has a crease that would have showed on the photocopier as a thin black line. The license Napper used is a new forgery. No crease."

Eddie felt relief. These small fuck-ups by Napper were at least easing the suspicion felt by some that he himself was the culprit.

"We also have one more piece of evidence. The entire van was covered with your fingerprints, Eddie. But that proves your innocence in all this."

Eddie looked mystified and Wallis explained.

"Napper left behind a single latex finger cap. He must have dropped it when he cleaned the van out. Guess what? It was an impression of your fingerprint in latex. The Napper was wearing false fingerprints to implicate you as the major suspect. We were wondering why he hadn't set fire to the van to destroy evidence and fingerprints, then it all fitted. If it wasn't for that single latex finger cap I'd have to consider you as prime suspect. He needed the van to be found."

Eddie looked relieved and fired a question back.

"So what was he doing with a van?"

Wallis frowned.

"We're not sure. Forensics proved beyond all doubt that the woman called Natasha from Washington D.O.T was in it at some time recently, and our guess is that she's a wild card. Something she did made her a threat and Napper had to take her out. That meant he was then left with a transport problem and the problem of a spare female he hadn't prepared for. If your surmise is correct, he's working to a scheme and he already has all the targets planned and had already organised how to shift them around. Then along comes Natasha and screws up his planning. I'm sure you are right on one thing, he isn't a killer or else she be wearing concrete boots by now at the bottom of Puget Sound."

Wallis looked at Eddie with concern.

"Are you okay? You just turned white as a sheet."

Eddie shook himself out of the shocked paralysis as his thoughts raced ahead. He cursed himself openly.

"Concrete! For fuck's sake you stupid moron Valenski. FUCKING CONCRETE!" Something had just fallen into place in Eddie's mind and he was struggling to make the connections. Transport department. Cassidy. Concrete truck.

"Get me that Transport Department report from the Natasha chick about the concrete trucks running back alleys."

Wallis searched through a pile of paper and dragged it out. Eagerly Eddie seized it.

"Gotcha, you bastard. Same truck cited on all occasions. Get on to Seattle and pull the names of the drivers for that truck and every drop site it delivered to. Then run the names through city and federal files for any prior convictions."

Wallis and Rocky faced him questioningly and Rocky spoke.

"So what gives Eddie?" He was about to answer when Wallis gave Eddie an imperceptible shake of the head. Eddie figured his meaning and pulled him aside.

"Listen Wallis. Rocky is okay. I'd stake my life on it. He can be in on anything we know." Wallis looked him straight in the eye.

"Your life may not be the one at stake Eddie. Claudine's might be if you are wrong."

Eddie considered that for a second then answered.

"He's in. I trust him." Wallis shrugged.

"It's your call Eddie. I hope you're right."

Rocky was called over and looked questioningly at Eddie.

"Fill you in on that later Rocky. The thing that caused the rush of shit to my brain was the mention of concrete. A concrete truck almost turned me into road kill outside Cassidy's safe house. I think the DOT chick was following up on the report of it using illegal routing and she stumbled onto something."

Wallis was already on it. By the time Eddie finished talking he was already connected to the federal building in downtown Oklahoma and his voice was carrying to everyone in the office.

"I want it NOW! Forget the preparations for the President's parade, this is more important. If he starts complaining remind him that he was the one who demanded action on this." He slammed the phone down.

"We'll have it in an hour. Meanwhile, I just had my own brainstorm. I'll get right back to you, I've got something to organise first.

An hour later the fax burst into action. It was from Seattle DOT to Agent Wallis. Wallis waited impatiently for it to laboriously print out then snatched the sheet from the machine.

Eddie and Rocky crowded in on him peering over his shoulder.

Martin S. Beckenmeyer. The only driver.

"Give me five minutes." Wallis punched details of Beckenmeyer into the federal computer direct link, and minutes later it was responding. The three of them crowded in closer as they read the information:

Martin S. Beckenmeyer. Last known address, 2799 West 2nd St, Oklahoma City.

Arrested seven times. Suspected Rape, Assault and various charges:

1. Assault 1995 Charges dropped; insufficient evidence to convict.

2. Assault: 1996 Arrested for non-consensual assault on female in SM club. Reported by club members. Victim refused to press charges. Coercion and intimidation suspected.

3. Assault occasioning actual bodily harm 1994. Charges dropped. Victim refused to give evidence.

No convictions

Known associates:

1. Max Tolledo. Abduction and rape: 1998 Sentenced 5 years for rape. (Complicity in abduction not proven. Federal charges dropped)

Psychiatric report held by Idaho State Hospital for the criminally insane.

**Released on parole March 4th 2001. **Parole Officer Helen Bingham

2. Aaron T Baxter. Multiple arrests, suspected rape, indecent assault, - Insufficient evidence.

No convictions

None of them needed to look further, and Eddie snatched the sheet and peered at the ID picture.

"That's him. That's the asshole that nearly creamed me. One helluva coincidence. Busted in Oklahoma just before the Napper 1 case, served time in the same Pen', and now he reappears in Seattle just when Napper 2 gets busy. Look at this delivery. This one here; a delivery every day to that building site opposite Cassidy's apartment."

Wallis pointed out something else.

"Helen Bingham; Parole Officer. Last seen two weeks ago. Listed as kidnapped, and the perp is assumed to be the Napper. Same style and M.O."

Eddie was about to respond when something sparked in his brain. A memory of a shadow passing over him at the scene of Cassidy's abduction.

"Fuck! Another one I missed." His mind was a whirl as the pieces just kept falling into place. "That's how they got her out. The fucking crane. They swung the concrete bucket over to her window behind the building, dumped her into a concrete bucket and then swung her back over to the building site and switched her to the truck."

Wallis looked unconvinced.

"No I don't buy that. The Seattle PD locked that area up tight with roadblocks and that truck was checked. It was full of concrete that had been rejected."

Eddie looked at him with undisguised scorn.

"You think Napper would think twice about burying a bound chick in liquid concrete to hide her?"

Wallis looked stunned.

"But that truck was still mixing the stuff. It had to be kept moving to prevent it setting till they dumped it. That's why the PD didn't search it that much. That would mean that Cassidy was inside the drum being mixed-!" His voice trailed off as the enormity of her mode of transport struck home.

Eddie said nothing. Now Wallis was getting an idea of just what Napper was capable of.

"And that just triggered something else, Wallis. The word rejected. Where have we heard that recently?" Wallis wrinkled his brow in thought and then enlightenment spread over his features.

"The Irish woman. Christ! Eddie, that's the link. Construction work, architects, rejected concrete, sub-standard work. It all fits."

Eddie nodded.

"At last we're getting somewhere. All of you, pay attention. We've got heaps of cross checking to do. First things first, get the address of that company who owns the truck and send in the S.W.A.T. team."

Wallis chipped in.

"That was my idea. The S.W.A.T. team are already preparing. I guessed it would come to this as soon as you hit on the link so I asked them to get ready, but not to move until we said so. It seems it's a company who also manufacture construction materials as well as supplying ready mix with their production over-capacity. They're on the south side of Seattle by the city transit garage on 4th.

Unfortunately, the CIA are coming in on the President's orders. He probably smells votes in this case if it goes down according to plan and he'll want to take credit for ordering the C.I.A, or something. The local S.W.A.T. team have been ordered to hang back on the raid until the Langley bunch get there. But not to worry, it'll happen within the hour." Eddie cursed.

"Fuck the C.I.A," Eddie growled. "Trust them to cause a delay. What the fuck has a bunch of spook chasers got to do with this operation. I suppose they think it's the Ruskies, abducting chicks and brainwashing them into commies."

Eddie was really pissed. Then he got a grip and moved on to the local priorities. The entire office paused to listen and crowded around, each eager for a piece of the action that may finally break the case. He left them fighting over who chased down what and went for a leak. His head was buzzing with pain again, but with the chance of a real significant bust in the offing, he was able to live with it.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN-FUCKED BY AN ELEVATOR

Napper grinned to himself. What a bunch of dickheads his hunters were. Ah well, that was going to be another waste of public resources and a huge egg in the face for Oklahoma PD He put down the phone and figured it was time to get back to the task in hand. A rather sore and aching ex DOT female was awaiting his personal attention. 200 miles as a butt-trailer and the remaining trip back in her sweaty stifling cocoon had left her sore and exhausted. Slipping on a hard hat he left the room and took the temporary materials elevator to the fifth floor. 

It was deserted save for one worker who was busy inside the regular elevator shaft.

"How's it going Martin? Is she ready for final installation yet?" The figure climbed out of the shaft.

"Hi Boss. Yep! She's already installed. The safety inspector has already cleared this shaft as completed, so no one will be looking in here again for some time." Napper stuck his head into the inspection hatch and peered upward into the gloom. Five or six feet above was the base of the stationary elevator car. As his eyes became accustomed to the gloom he perceived the outline of a naked contorted female seemingly hanging from the underside.

Natasha was silent and almost perfectly still. The silence was a self-imposed thing, at least self-imposed under threat of dire consequences if she should choose to make a noise. Her head was encased in tight feature-forming kid leather. Even so, it was easy to recognise a wide stretched mouth filled with some sort of oral plug below the leather. A wire from the centre of the plugged cavity led to ominous connections to her nipples. One sound would result in a sound activated switch sending a sharp reminder to her tits.

Image 15

The movement was another matter. It was slight, and well contained, but he could see she was fighting against the implacable grip of formed steel body caging. It was a forlorn attempt to escape her fate.

Folded double with her rump hanging down, her arms were clamped into a back prayer position and her calves and ankles were parallel to the floor of the car. She was caged and clamped into a butt down position with her naked charms visible; and they would have been readily available were it not for the 70 foot drop to the bottom of the elevator shaft.

The stainless steel bands were semi-flexible as single entities that allowed for pre-forming around her body, but now that they had been riveted at every crossover point, they formed a solid, rigid framework. Natasha's entire body was enclosed in a tight, form-fitting, all embracing steel cage.

A tube ran from the oral cover section of the helmet and Napper knew that she was already plumbed in to his master system on that score. He borrowed a flashlight from Martin and proceeded to inspect other items of interest.

Shining it downward revealed two massive dildos poised at the bottom of the shaft and situated centrally between the buffers. Even at a range of 70 feet they looked huge. He felt heat rising in his crotch as an image of their purpose formed in his mind.

"I take it you aligned them perfectly Martin?"

The flashlight swung upward and played over the taut lobes of Natasha's bottom and the tight puckering ring of her asshole. Her pussy was distended as a result of the taut curvature of her bottom and the twin peach segments of her mons were almost thrusting eagerly towards the monoliths awaiting her arrival at the bottom of the shaft. Moving the beam sideways he followed the mechanics of the floor indicator bell. It was a simple device that used a cam flipper, operated by strikers at each floor. As the elevator passed the floors, it was forced back against a spring and then allowed to release, thus allowing the striker to hit a bell. In this instance it had some additions. Two canes were poised below the pale moons of Natasha's smooth butt, and both were also attached to the device and had their own spring tensioning devices.

It was a simple and very effective remedy to the problem of a woman who had become an embarrassment and a threat to the operation. The beauty of it was that it took very little re-planning, and her current predicament would ensure continual random chastisement and torment.

Image 16

As the elevator went about its daily business, sliding smoothly up and down the shaft, Natasha would be receiving stinging whacks to her bottom at each floor. The advantage of the system was that the clanging floor bell would mask any muffled response to the fiery cane stroke.

But as if that were not enough, Napper had decided that her clit should be pierced and connected as well. So in addition to suffering the constant swiping canes, her clit got yanked by the bell clapper.

The dildos at the bottom of the shaft were Martin's brainstorm, and one that appealed very much to Napper's design criteria for nosy, interfering women. 

In addition to the constant attention of the canes, Natasha's caging ensured that she was accurately and firmly targeted for those waiting monsters down below. There was no way she could move her rear end to avoid impalement. As the elevator reached the ground floor her puckering butt hole and vulnerable pussy were going to be jammed firmly down onto two monolithic stalagmites of phallic trauma some ten inches long. They were going to stuff her like a trussed Christmas turkey.

Napper squeezed into the inspection hatch climbed a few rungs up the shaft ladder until he was within reach of the pendulously caged female. Reaching up, he pulled one of the canes back against its spring and then let go. The cane swished viciously and lashed the tautly presented bottom mercilessly. Instantly the bulging curvatures of contained womanhood swelled past the steel caging as she reacted and the shaft echoed with frantic but faint mewing pleas for mercy. Napper watched with interest and twanged each cane a few more times as he adjusted the spring tensioners to give the canes more bite. Finally he was satisfied. The two presented orifices remained firmly positioned despite her titanic struggles to escape. Her entire body could only achieve a modicum of movement, and that was restricted to the normal bulging of tightly cinched flesh. The bands of steel were buried deep into her soft areas and even exhibited similar indents where her figure was not endowed with as much natural padding. Martin had done a good job on the construction. But then again, Napper knew that he would. The man was a true believer in females being kept bound and gagged as tightly as possible.

Napper ran his hand over the taut hemispheres of her downward thrusting buttocks and felt them tremble with dread. He had to admit, for a city employee she was a peach of a woman who could just as easily have made her career as a Hollywood screen diva. Her skin was silky smooth, firm rump and great tits. In a way it was a pity that she was hooded. Natasha's face was almost doll-like in its perfection with pouty lips, a pert little nose, and big doe eyes framed with long lashes and generous well-formed eyebrows. Maybe when she was completely compliant he would allow her to become his personal pleasure centre.

Napper withdrew from the shaft and repeated his question. Martin hadn't heard him.

"You're sure the dildos are aligned dead right?" Martin nodded.

"Sure thing Boss. I took her down till she was two inches above them and lined them up. They're aimed dead centre of both of her holes. She'll be fucked real good front and back. I used the tapering ones. The ass dildo will open her to three inches diameter, and her pussy will get stretched to a nice eye watering six inches. A few weeks in there and she'll be well fucked."

Napper seemed satisfied with the elevator arrangement, but another point was bothering him. The canteen completion had been delayed. His plan required the garbage disposal units from the kitchen to feed the woman via her oral tube. It wasn't only Natasha. Others who had been installed in various places had been without food for two days. Fortunately it looked as if completion of the canteen would be within the next twenty-four hours. After that they would all be pumped full of emulsified gunk on a regular basis by his complex plumbing system. The natural water injection of the garbage units ensured liquid supplement. As for wastes, most were plumbed in. Natasha didn't need any plumbing. A hose pipe arranged at the bottom of the shaft was timed to wash anything on the floor into a drain at regular intervals.

"Okay, close it up and let's give it a test run."

Martin enthusiastically slammed the inspection hatch, taking great care to snap on the lock and then break the key inside the lock. Napper looked on approvingly. 

"Good thought." Anyone thinking of a random check would probably move on to other things when they found they couldn't get a master maintenance key in the lock.

They walked up to the next floor and entered the open doors of the elevator.

He watched as Martin removed the maintenance lockout from the elevator control pad, and they both watched as the doors slid shut. It was hard to imagine that right below their feet was a securely caged naked female who was about to embark on a long repayment period for her folly of stumbling into something best left alone.

"Ground floor I think Martin." He grinned as Martin nodded with a smirk, and then the elevator started down.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

Ting!

The elevator slowed as it braked and then...

Ting!

They were there. Below them, a helpless woman had just been administered a total of five twin strokes, ten powerful cane strokes to her buttocks in all, and not a sound was heard within the car. At this very moment she was jammed firmly down onto a pair of massive hole stretching dildos and held there, rigidly contained and deeply impaled. A micro-switch below her taut quivering bottom cheeks was pressed down and the dildos were live the with pulsing of a level ten setting on the T.E.N.S. unit.

The two men listened intently as she was shocked and pulsed, but not a sound penetrated the flooring.

Bug eyed and straining frantically, Natasha had endured the initial shock of being ruthlessly impaled on the dildos. Now she was heaving with ineffectual attempts to escape her steel caging as this new torment of electrical pulses added further to the torment of her stretched and invaded orifices. Her muted plea for mercy had earned her a pair of electrified tits as well, until she was able to subdue her natural desire to scream into her gag. Her butt was aflame with the raised welts the two canes had created, but for the moment that was the least of her problems. 

"Better give it a full test, Martin. Top floor I think, and then back down. Four or five full trips should be enough." Martin obliged, and twenty floors later they reached the top floor. Below them a steel cinched folded female was going berserk as her taut bottom absorbed the last of forty strokes. Her frenzied straining was even managing to flex the powerful cage slightly and the shaft echoed with the sounds of stressed steel.

Image 17

Then the elevator started back down, another forty strokes administered to an already glowing bottom that would end with her being jammed back down on the dildos.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

Ting!

Ting! Ting!

"So what are you working on next, Martin?" Napper calmly enquired as the elevator passed the fifth floor. The fact that a tightly bound woman was suffering hell only inches below his feet seemed to have been dismissed as something of. no importance. Martin, red faced and barely containing a spontaneous ejaculation, had some trouble answering.

"Er! Well I-er, thought em..!"

Ting! Ting!

Then the elevator slowed as it reached bottom and settled down onto the buffers. Martin was standing with his feet directly on top of some shiny new bolt heads in the floor. He looked down, his face glistening with a sheen of sweat. The bolts held the hidden cage device below firmly bolted to the floor of the car. 

Natasha sensed the slowing and braced herself for the inevitable. A second later cold polished stainless steel bulldozed into her offered openings, contemptuously peeling her pussy open, dilating her tight resisting asshole with irresistible force, and boring deep into her body. She squirmed and writhed as two and half tons of elevator car ponderously skewered her on the dildos. It just pressed her down like a piece of play dough, stretching and boring her openings with consummate ease. Just when she thought she would split, her buttocks hit the shaft base plate and flattened out as she was pressed tightly onto the dildo shafts and her entire lower body filled with unyielding steel. Then the electrical input started to pulse into her body as the micro-switch came into play. The term 'bottomed out' took on a whole new meaning for the caged beauty below the elevator.

Ting!

The elevator doors opened as they reached ground floor and a wet stain spread over Martin's crotch and he groaned and convulsed. The mental images of Natasha's second enforced 'stuffing' was too much for him to deal with. Napper appeared not to notice as Martin suffered a crotch meltdown.

"Let me know when you decide. Oh! And continue with the test." He nodded suggestively towards the elevator buttons and threw his hard hat to the red faced, eager Martin who couldn't wait to head up to the top floor again. It gave him an instant stiffy to press the down button from the top floor and know that the woman below would have to endure the long cane-whipped drop back to those waiting dildos.

Napper walked away as the doors slid shut and was pleased to notice that two engineers who were leaning against the wall right alongside the elevator had not heard a sound as Natasha was first impaled and then dragged back off the dildo by the ascending elevator. By now he was sure she was regretting ever following up on that complaint. If not, she surely would be by the time she was released from her torment. That elevator was to be the public elevator. It was guaranteed to be in constant operation. Napper grinned to himself at the images conjured up by the normal rush of opening time at 9am each morning. Natasha was going to be well fucked as the elevator was called back to ground level after virtually every trip to the upper floors.


CHAPTER FIFTEEN - ABORTIVE BUST

The portable office was a hive of nervous tension. At 2:20pm, Seattle PD advised that the teams were going in. Five minutes had elapsed so far. Suddenly the phone rang. Eddie beat the Captain and Wallis by a split second and jammed the phone to his ear.

"Valenski! Oklahoma PD." The office went silent and watched his face. Eddie gave nothing away and his features remained as if carved in stone.

"I see. Okay, see what you can come up with when it cools down." He placed the phone back in the receiver and his head drooped.

"So what happened?" It was the Captain's voice. Eddie turned his eyes resignedly to the anxious audience.

"The good news is the bust went ahead. The bad news is that the team mounted up and had just left the precinct when they heard of a big fire going on the south side of Seattle. An all units job."

"Ah shit!" The Captain cursed as he guessed the rest.

"You got it Cap'. Napper was tipped off. They cleared out and fired the place. There was a full fuel tanker inside, and as of now, the Seattle Fire Department is trying to contain the blaze to one city block. Napper's base of operations in Seattle is a super-heated pile of smouldering junk, and I doubt we'll find any clues there."

"Any sign of the women being in there?" Wallis asked. Eddie shook his head as he answered.

"No chance to even get near the place yet. It's too hot. But I can tell you, I'd be very surprised to find any human remains in there. Napper isn't a killer. The merchandise will have been long gone. However, we still have some ace cards up our sleeve. I doubt Napper got to the rest of the city records on that company or any other companies involved. My gut feel is that something went wrong and he had to make a move he didn't plan on. Otherwise Seattle would have more than one fire going down right now." Eddie turned and fired a question at Wallis. 

"Anything show up on the road blocks checking tankers and the like heading south? Napper is sure to have shifted the merchandise to Oklahoma if we guessed right."

Wallis shook his head.

Nothing! Not even a smuggled rat made it through our checks." Eddie looked skeptical and his retort emphasized it.

"Don't underestimate this turd Wallis. He's done it, believe me."

Eddie searched his brain for inspiration, but the only thing he could come up with was the city records in Seattle. They put in a call to the Seattle PD lieutenant, Al Grissom, and within the hour had an answer. Wallis took the call and the rest waited as he listened and then relayed the message to them.

"They checked all the city records on that company and the company Natasha worked for. You're not going to like this Eddie. Apparently you requisitioned them all as evidence in the Napper case." Eddie didn't seem that surprised, and shrugged as he answered.

"I guessed he wouldn't have missed that angle, so no big surprise there." The fact that all his colleagues now accepted that Napper was using the Eddie Valenski disguise to set him up gave him peace of mind. A remote possibility came to mind in the ensuing silence created by a whole department at a loss of where to go next with the investigation. There was also the uncomfortable knowledge that one of them in that trailer had tipped Napper off. Eddie's first instinct was to check the PD's phone records, but he immediately shelved that idea. Napper's aide wasn't stupid enough to call from a precinct phone. Of that he was sure. 

"We've got one other chance to figure how and where Napper shifted those chicks to. Check all the weigh stations along the Interstates from Seattle to Oklahoma City. I doubt Napper went through any as he will have planned back routes, but we just might get lucky. If we check the lists of trucks and cargo we might find a clue there."

Wallis and Rocky were on it within minutes, but it was going to take time. Weigh station records were normally mailed in for filing at state DOT centres on a weekly basis. It would mean contacting every one of them by phone in several states and getting them to fax in their recent records. There would be hundreds if not thousands of entries to sift through on the off chance that something would connect.


CHAPTER SIXTEEN TOUR OF INSPECTION

Thursday dawned bright and hot. Pretty much a normal day in Oklahoma for this time of year. Napper strolled through the organised chaos of the contractors' area and stopped to admire the fine new pillars of the main entrance. It was amazing to contemplate that three beautiful women were at this very moment set solid inside those graceful columns, unable to speak or make a sound and incapable of even the tiniest movement. Soon the services of the building would be coming online, and when they did, those three women would be regularly vibed and zapped, basically kept in a state of constant arousal and torment on an alternating basis.

"Hi boss!" Napper turned as Aaron Baxter walked up to him. "Just wanted to let you know, the canteen went operational this morning. We all had breakfast there, and by now the chicks already installed will be well stuffed and fed. The municipality okayed the utilities late yesterday afternoon so we put the plumbing online overnight." Napper looked back to the columns where three unseen helpless females were in the process of being force fed pressurised mush from the canteen garbage disposal units.

It must have been one helluva relief for them to suddenly feel the hollow inserts stuffed up their asses after three days being solidly plugged with no outlet. 

"How's the read-out on the sensors Aaron?"

Aaron consulted a clipboard.

"The two outers are pretty much within limits, but the middle one is running hot. We figure the Dom bitch is fighting like hell and heating herself up. The others just show fast rises when the stimulators go online and then return to normal." Napper nodded.

"She'll learn. The other two have been there before. They know the score and they are just accepting it. Besides I know Valenski's bitch. That Claudine is hot for bondage, so she's probably in pig heaven. As for Cassidy, this is a walk in the park after the last time she was in my hands."

They both stared at the columns and imagined the nubile female contents, then Napper moved on to other matters as they walked forwards and up the steps. 

"What else is fully operational, and what have you got planned for today? We're running out of time. The city planners want this place finished, up and running in four days."

Aaron looked back to his clipboard and then they both looked up and bid Martin good morning as he hurried past towards the elevator. Napper called after him. 

"Still testing Martin?"

"Of course boss. Gotta make sure everything is well tested." Napper looked back to Aaron with a smirk.

"Seems like our little Natasha problem is getting lots of attention then." 

Aaron smiled.

"She sure is boss. That elevator was in full use as soon as the canteen opened. She's been well fucked this morning already and she was parked at ground level all night."

They returned their attention to the clipboard and Napper decided an inspection was in order.

"Let's take a look at numbers 13 through 22. They've been installed for a while so we may as well check for any defects. By the way, where did you put number 8 after we had the change of design notification? She was that busty chick from Illinois wasn't she, the noisy one who was court recorder at the original trial. If I remember right we intended to install her in that fountain they cancelled?" 

Aaron flipped through the sheets on the clipboard.

We just walked over her boss. She's one of the pre-cast steps leading up to the building. 1, 3, 7, and 10 are the other steps. We installed 8 face up, with her tits just under those brass ornamental studs set into the marbling. Every time someone steps on a stud, it moves fractionally down and the spike on the underside jabs those big nipples of hers. We had to do a few of our own modifications for her. After she was rubberised we cinched her boob roots so tight that her tits looked ready to burst. She was cast with two rock hard footballs for tits. The others are standard arrangement, face down, butts humped up and cinched to make them hard. The studs jab their pretty asses. All of them are connected to the big insignia on the floor at the main door, and every single footstep on that emblem thing causes the solenoid operated dildos to fuck them simultaneously in both holes with a single stroke."

Napper looked back as they crossed the foyer. They had both just walked across the inlaid coat of arms and four silent, helpless women had been double fucked without anyone being the wiser. Even as they walked away, the women were straining against solid concrete as the timers measured out a dose of massive insertion and kept them fully stuffed for a minute each time. As it happened, Napper had stepped right onto the brass studs of big tits from Illinois, so she was also enduring the daggering pain of recently jabbed nipples in her aching balloon- like cinched tits. For two days she had been enduring the throb of painfully bloated breasts without relief, and there was no telling how long she would have to endure before someone discovered their plight.

Entering the elevator, they kindly took Natasha off her dildos for a while and bottom-whipped her up to the 10th floor. No sooner had they alighted than someone recalled the elevator and she was quickly on her way back down yet another orifice skewering experience as her besieged buttocks endured the constant assault of the canes.

Aaron looked around him as they walked and furtively handed him a well-thumbed piece of paper.

"Take a look at this Boss. Maybe we can help these people."

Napper read the typed letter carefully. It was from a group called Freedom- Slavery. The letter outlined their circumstances and was basically a request for handouts to further the cause. The group, mainly dropouts from all over the world, had purchased an island in the Straits of Jahore, off the coast of Malaysia. Unfortunately, someone in the Malaysian government had neglected to note that the worthless island was in fact, in international waters. A cleverly worded sale contract drawn up by a bent lawyer disguised the fact that the sale handed over sovereignty. In effect, Malaysia in selling the island, gave them the power to form their own independent country and the right to write their own laws.

The owners, Freedom-Slavery, had promptly constructed a huge complex and decreed slavery to be legal. As a result, the island now known as Kallazar was a Mecca for SM people searching for the ultimate thrill. It only had one problem. There weren't that many genuine SM submissives that were crazy enough to go within a 1000 miles of such a place. In short the place was packed with whip wielding sadists, gays, dykes and thrill seekers, with no flesh to beat and fuck. 

Aaron handed him some battered stained photos and Napper took them with reservations. He'd have felt a whole lot better if they'd been dipped in Lysol. 

"Take a look boss. It's the real thing." Napper studied the pictures, noting that Aaron was almost frothing at the mouth at the prospect of someday setting foot on an island of seriously bent people with only one interest in life; to inflict pain just for the hell of it. The pricks had no imagination, no panache, and no concept of control without destroying. Napper liked to consider his penchant for binding women in traumatic situations as an art form.

The pictures were mainly of abducted Chinese and Malay girls, probably sold to the group for a pittance and caged in crude bamboo cages or in various formats that lent themselves to fucking and beating. All were in a pitiful state and hardly attractive anymore.

Image 18

Unseen by Aaron, Napper raised an appraising eyebrow at his cohort. Sometimes he had serious doubts about his choice of helpers. His first instinct was to tell Aaron to get the fuck away from him. But Aaron was so hot at the thought of one day going there, he decided to let him have his little dream whilst he could still be of use to the operation. He handed the pictures back.

"Can't help them at the moment Aaron. All my stock is accounted for, but maybe someday up ahead we'll come across some item that may be of interest to them out there."

Aaron seemed to accept that, and Napper put the matter into his personal mental garbage can.

A short walk around the passageways took them past several more of Napper's installations, all hidden and all suffering extreme bondage.


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-NAPPER SEES THE LIGHT

Napper watched as they prepared the last batch for installation. Three staggering beauties, all related to members of the original jury that had convicted Napper-1. Fortunately they were all in their early twenties, and all flexible. Two of them more so than the third, but that was of no concern to Napper and his cohorts. The ruthlessly efficient bondage exacted on the less flexible woman made up for lack of gymnastic talent. The flexible two, a brunette and a redhead, were arched into a back breaking hog-tie, heels resting on the back of their heads, arms sheathed in special short sheaths that held them back-prayered, palms firmly mated at the back of their necks, and excruciatingly folded elbows completely encased in a tight satchel of laced leather. Their heads were hooded in the same clinging kid leather. Form fitting hoods with special attachments connected to the straps from the toes of ankle-foot sheaths and held them with the balls of their feet clamped to the back of their heads. Only their eyes showed. Laces down each side of the foot sheathing also connected to corresponding eyelet lace holes in flanges of leather sewn firmly to the helmets. These were the bitches destined to be installed in the vendo machines.

He turned his attention to the third woman, the not so flexible blonde. No one would ever know she wasn't a super flexible contortionist now. Napper's workers had seen to that. She was folded into a perfect hairpin bend, wrist and ankles firmly clamped together, and her entire body cinched strapped into a compressed, doubled format with her gorgeous ass forming the rounded end. Before being strapped she had been corseted and then fitted into another custom-made leather sheath that was purposely designed for a foreshortened, folded body. Before that she was fitted with a steel T shaped tube that ran from the fold of her hips, out past her feet and terminated in a steel flange with bolt holes around the base. Napper walked over and prodded the wrinkle-free cinched package and watched with interest as it moaned and performed a sensuously uplifting, squirming movement. The leather rippled and swelled as she fought her savage containment, but apart from an instinctive puckering of her vulnerable and naked butt hole, that was all the bound woman could achieve. The T bar she was folded over and the powerful sheath kept her rigidly stiffened. Napper stooped and studied the exposed rump and the inviting cleft of her fully exposed crotch. Currently, both cavities were vacant. But that wouldn't be the case much longer. This unfortunate captive was destined for a predicament that would make good use of her full- lipped thrusting pussy, or her neat little bunghole. He hadn't decided which yet, it could be one or the other given the task he had planned for her.

He rose and walked back over to the other two, who at this moment were being manhandled towards their designated tasks. The big vendo machines were pulled out from the recesses and exposed. Although there were three machines, only two required special fittings and fixtures. Those were the candy bar machines. The combined coffee/soup machine was pulled out to affect connections and for no other reason. It was in fact destined to be the device that force fed the women installed in the other machines. Every fifth cup of soup that was bought would inject the oral cavity of each woman installed in the other machines with a measured dose of cold soup mix. It was totally unpalatable, but contained enough supplements and protein to ensure they remained nourished. Every twentieth cup of coffee ordered sent a small dose of water to the force fed women, thus ensuring they were also hydrated.

Martin was just finalising the bindings on one as Aaron worked on the other. More satchel type sheaths were being added to their folded legs, clamping legs together in a tightly contained mono-limb. Straps, rather like suspenders, led from the upper edges of the sheaths to the lower end of their corseting so as to keep them drawn up onto the thighs. The corsets were something else. As with all the other gear, they had been manufactured by a true craftsman in LA to exacting and precise specifications.

They were heavily boned with steel reinforcing and designed in three parts. The three parts were joined together by rows of lacing, two at the front running from under-breast to the crease of thigh top, and one at back. Napper noted with relish that his men had managed to close all three lace gaps completely, which was quite a feat when one considered that the corsets were at least six inches smaller than the normal waist measurement of either woman.

The corsets continued through the crotches in a plunging narrow strip of reinforced leather and reappeared between the cleft of their ass cheeks to form a complete unit. As they passed through the crotch and over their orifices, they were split. Strips of boning and leather passed each side of pussy and butt hole so as to leave them accessible. The split under-crotch served a dual purpose in that it extruded and clamped the pussy lips into a provocative pout, and at the same time guaranteed that any insertion would be gripped tightly by the woman's uncooperative pussy.

At front, the corset was cut away so as to form round tit-extruding apertures. Each aperture had lacing at the root, and Napper was pleased to see that the lacing of each thrusting boob had received the same attention to detail as other lacing. Both women were endowed with hard spherical ball tits that looked about to burst, so intense was the pressure created by the tightly cinched root lacing.

Napper flicked a bulging tit with his fingernail and solicited a groan from the woman as her breast thunked like a volleyball. Her nipples were daggering outwards like rigid turrets of inflamed wanton lust and she could do nothing about it. It boded well for her final assembly. Those rock hard nipples were going to come in for some serious torment. Candy machines were the favourite vendos when it came to usage frequency.

The redhead was hauled over first. She strained and writhed as they dragged her to the back of the machine, and Aaron informed Napper that the women had already been appraised of their eventual plight.

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A steel cradle of sorts accepted the knees of the woman, and then she was levered into the machine facing inwards, her thrusting balloon tits enmeshing with already installed mechanisms as they clamped her into place with lockable steel ratchet clamps. Aaron crawled into the machine and began to feed crotch attachments into place. The tightly clamped pussy proved to be a problem, and her ass plug even more so. But after much grunting and pushing, Aaron finally managed to fully insert the monolithic phalluses into the keening woman who was obviously not that impressed with the sensation of being jammed full of mechanised hardware. Connecting both devices to the actuator arms of the machinery was easy. It was simply a matter of slipping clevis pins through the bifurcated ends of each insert so that they were locked to the ends of the actuator arms. The last task was to screw the tube from the soup machine onto the oral connection. 

The redhead's installation was complete. Within minutes the brunette had joined her in the sister machine. It was a sight to remember as they stepped back and contemplated their work. Both women were so incredibly contorted and tightly bound they could not move a muscle.

Moving to one side of the redhead, Napper looked down at the wide pleading eyes of the woman. Then he contemplated the tiny window in the front of the machine. It was one way mirror glass. She would be able to see every single vendor customer at close range as they peered at the various product shelves and chose their favourite candy bar. So near and yet so far, but the unsuspecting customer would have no idea that the simple action of dropping a quarter into the slot was going to set in motion a far more complex arrangement than simply dropping a candy bar into the tray.

She would be able to see it coming, knowing what was going to happen and yet unable to do anything to gain attention to her plight.

Beneath the hood, she was orally stuffed with a service feeder tube that had a soft sound-absorbing foam padding, her lips super-glued together around its girth. Over that was a multi-layered sealing of super sticky adhesive tape. Then the helmet, with an over mouth over-band strap to ensure she stayed sealed and silent. Only the tube connection protruded from her packed mouth.

Lustfully Napper surveyed the bursting tits, those rock hard thrusting nipples firmly enmeshed with the gear teeth of the vending machine. Once set in motion, those gears were going to rasp and flip the daggering nodules with devastating effect as they rotated. But that wasn't the full extent of the diabolical torment intended for those fulsome orbs of throbbing tit flesh. Twin parallel bars that just happened to be part of the selection mechanism were ideally placed for even more mayhem. As the mechanism whirred into action and dumped the selected candy bar, the two bars moved together and slid sideways in opposite directions. They were like connecting rods between two gear wheels. The resultant motion was going to squeeze her bulbously distended tits cruelly and at the same time roll and twist them before returning to the normal position. Both bars were dipped in rubber to ensure that the coating gripped flesh and guaranteed the twisting, rolling motion was imparted to the squeezed tits.

Given that she was also going to be fucked both front and back by the inserts at the same time, it looked like proving to be a traumatic experience all around. 

Napper produced a quarter and flashed it in front of her eyes as he taunted her. 

"Time for a Hershey bar I think."

The woman made some pitiful and satisfyingly muffled pleading sounds that only served to excite the watching men even more. She strained against the implacable constraints of her confinement but achieved nothing. Napper moved around to the front of the machine and popped the quarter into the slot. Knowing that she was watching through her mirror glass window, he leered into his reflection and took his time selecting so as to enhance her fearful anticipation. Then his finger hit the button.

The horrendously hog-tied shape built into the machine burst into frenzied activity, albeit restricted to nothing more than a sort of pulsing expansion of muscle tissue and heaving breasts. Gear wheels were grinding at her super-sensitive nipples, and her taut bursting breasts were being inexorably crushed into flattened blue- veined pancakes of tormented flesh as they were rolled. The nipples went bright scarlet with pressure and abuse as they were flipped and distorted by the turning gears. It all looked suitably excruciating and traumatic.

Napper came back around to watch, by which time the redhead was also experiencing the other features of her symbiotic relationship with the machine. Below her in the heart of the machine, gear mechanisms were ruthlessly fucking her tightly clamped orifices with massive dildos.

She was a picture of traumatised, helpless, completely controlled activity. Aaron decided he needed a chocolate bar from the other machine, and the three men watched as both machines serviced the two women in tandem. Morning break period was going to be a fun time for these ladies as queues of hungry employees stood in line to get their favourite mid morning snacks. The redhead ground to a halt as the machine completed the cycle and reset the next available Hershey bar up for purchase. Shortly after, the brunette completed her delivery of chocolate. Both women were a sight to behold as their gasps produced heaving balloon breast that swelled and bulged alarmingly when they sucked in air to compensate for the adrenaline surge created by their ordeal. Soon their plight would be invisible to anyone once the machines were closed.

A quarter dropped into the soup machine tested the final links.

Both women suddenly developed swollen leather clad cheeks and bulging eyes as cold soup mix was pumped into their faces through the feeder connections. If anything, their desperate attempts to escape the torment were even more frantic than those solicited by the chocolate delivery cycle. Morning snack time was going to be a fun time for them as all three machines were used at once by a multitude of hungry workers. Double fucked front and back, tit rolled, nipple tormented and faces pumped with cold soup simultaneously was something they could look forward to as soon as the vendos were put into service.

Ponderously the vendo machines were pushed back into their wall cavities and locked into place. On the other side of that wall was the public. All they would see were recessed machines, front panels flush with the wall, and nothing to give away the diabolical secrets of their internal machinery. The service room was a secure room with access denied anyone but the servicing engineer. There was nothing unusual about that, otherwise anyone could go behind the machines and help themselves to the products. The only thing unusual about it was that Napper's henchmen owned the servicing franchise. N.M.S. Inc. (Napper Maintenance Services) in fact had the contract for maintenance of the entire building.

A single bound female remained to be dealt with. It was the folded leatherised shape lying on the floor. Napper strolled over and was almost to her side when his foot landed on a screwdriver left on the floor by Aaron.

"Shit!"

Napper voiced a yelp of surprise as the screwdriver rolled and his foot flew out from under him. He pitched backward and his head contacted the wall with an almighty thud. Instantly the lights went out for Napper as he slumped into unconsciousness.

Slowly a dawning light slipped into Eddie's consciousness, and groggily he lifted himself up on an elbow. Everything was blurred at first, but then his eyes began to focus.

Two rough looking guys, obviously construction workers, were staring down at him with concerned looks, and vaguely he thought he knew them. He reached up to the wet, oozing feeling on the back of his head and his hands came away with a sheen of clear, viscous fluid. The scar had split open, but it wasn't bleeding. Instead it was seeping a fluid. Amazingly, Eddie could feel his damned headache easing as if a great weight was lifting off his brain.

Suddenly his brain snapped into action. The mug shots. Martin Beckenmeyer! And the other was Aaron Baxter, a known associate.

In one swift move he was on his knees and rising, the 9mm already out of its holster and coming into line.

"Hold it scum bags. Make one move and you'll be leaking fluids from some new holes." The two seemed frozen with shock and indecision and neither made a move. Eddie eyed them carefully and then cast his eyes around the room.

He saw what was obviously a woman lying on the floor, sheathed in leather and folded into a tight hairpin with her bare ass sticking out the end. One of the men spoke and drew his attention back before he could see any more.

"What the fuck are you doing Boss? Is this some kind of joke?"

For a second, Eddie was stumped. Then it dawned on him.

"Hey fuck-head, I'm the real Eddie Valenski, not a latex makeover. This time you shitheads out-clevered yourselves. When you start playing with doubles that can happen buddy boy."

The taller of the two guys, Martin looked stunned, and then smiled.

"Ah, you're fucking with us Boss. We know you're one and the same. That was the plan."

It was Eddie's turn to look shocked.

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"Plan? What fucking plan?"

Martin stared intently into his face.

"You really aren't joking are you? What the fuck is going on, is this a double cross?" He could see that Napper was confused and decided to jog his memory. Clearly that knock on the head had fucked with his thinking.

"Don't you remember boss. The whole idea was to give the Feds and your PD pals the idea that you were being set up. It was the ultimate scam plan. Who the hell would ever dream that someone was setting themselves up. And it was brilliant. The latex mask at Cassidy's place, the 'accidentally' dropped false fingerprint cap in the van. The obvious driving license forgery, The air ticket to Seattle. It was pure fucking genius. Then the phone tip-off to make yourself look like a total incompetent prick."

Martin continued to reveal the entire charade, but Eddie was hardly listening. Something in his brain had clicked into place. He knew everything the Napper knew, and he remembered doing it as the Napper. The only details he didn't know at this time were the whereabouts of the three women converted into Computer/Entertainment centres. In the rush to get clear of the impending unplanned bust on the Seattle depot, they had been diverted from the original plan, and Aaron had made temporary arrangements.

But now Eddie had a whole new set of problems that was far more pressing. These guys, Claudine, Cassidy and probably the Claudine's Dom friend could finger him as being both Napper and Eddie. The women knew him well enough not to be fooled by a claim that it was a latex disguise. They knew it was the real Eddie who had kidnapped them. As for these sadistic bastards, they would waste no time in taking him down with them. Eddie knew he was facing at best a long stay in a mental hospital, at worst an even longer stay in a federal penitentiary as the butt fucked toy of the black brotherhood. His mind moved at light speed as he considered the options. Then he smiled and holstered the gun.

"Fuck! I got you assholes going there for a while. You should have seen your faces."

Both men visibly sagged as they relaxed and heaved a sigh of relief.

"You freaky motherfucker. You scared the shit out of us."

Eddie laughed and continued.

"Okay, fun over. Let's get this last bitch installed. And next time clear up the fucking tools you careless, untidy, prick."

The assholes moved over to the doubled woman and lifted her as Eddie looked thoughtfully at their backs. An idea was forming on how to get out of this mess, but it was going to require the help of at least two others from the team who were hunting the Napper to pull it off. Meantime he had to go along with the plan. Which was unfortunate for the woman doubled into that device; any other course of action would give the game away before time. It was going to be a harrowing experience for her, but nothing permanent.

Opening the door, Eddie checked the corridor for activity, then seeing it was clear he motioned the two men forward. Moving quickly with their wriggling leather-sheathed bundle they carried her to the elevator and moved inside. Martin stuck his head back out.

"You coming?"

Eddie shook his head.

"You don't need me for this one. You know the plan; I'll pop up later to check her out. I'd best get back before anyone realises I'm gone from the office." He was about to leave when a thought occurred to him. "Oh by the way where did you stash the six chicks we converted into computer entertainment centres?" 

Martin grinned.

"We shipped them down here with the last consignment to get through before all the road blocks were in place. Max set Nancy and Joan up with an apartment downtown. The girls are keeping them entertained." Martin winked, and remembering the two sadistic guest chicks from Seattle, Eddie had no doubt about whom was being entertained. With six bound helpless women arranged as tilting crotch entertainment units, those two broads would be spending most of their time with a female's head buried in their crotches. "I'll give you the address after we finish here and you can decide what we do with them later."

Martin vanished and the doors closed. For a second or two Eddie watched the elevator indicator with mixed feelings. Suddenly that telltale blinking display had a whole new meaning for him as he contemplated what was happening to a beautiful woman who was a hidden part of the elevator car.

Turning to the stairwell he started down. He'd only gone one floor when a construction gang confronted him.

"You can't use the stairs today detective. The building inspector and fire department are running fire door and alarm tests. You'll have to use the elevator." 

Eddie was about to argue and then decided against it. It might seem strange that he preferred to use the stairs instead of the elevator.

Resigned to the inevitable he went through the fire access door into the passageway and after a slight hesitation, pushed the elevator call button. It gave him a weird feeling to know that he was consigning a tightly bound woman to another severe bottom thrashing by that simple action.

The indicator showed M. 'M' was the elevator winding gear maintenance level. Martin and Aaron were already there with their cargo of bound femininity. At this time it was unlikely that they had completed the installation of the woman they took up there, so at least he didn't have to worry about her planned ordeal just yet.

The indicator started down, and with a loud Ting! arrived at his floor. Eddie entered the car and waited as the doors slid shut, his eyes were riveted to the shiny flush bolt heads in the floor. He had no choice. The time he had been absent from the operations porta-cabin was stretching out. He shoved the G button for ground level.

Ting!

Ting!

Ting!

Each ring of the bell made him flinch slightly as he contemplated what it meant for someone under his feet. Suddenly the elevator was slowing and he looked up to see that they were already past the second floor and slowing for a stop at ground.

A feeling of acute embarrassment came over him as the elevator ponderously settled down on to the buffers and he developed a huge erection. Natasha had just been stretched and impaled as she was pressed tightly down onto her massive dildos at end of travel. Despite his horror at being involved in her plight, he couldn't help feeling a powerful surge of sexual arousal as he contemplated the tightly cinched, helpless woman being so ruthlessly skewered and invaded.

Eddie rearranged his pants to best hide the enormous bulge and exited the elevator. Almost immediately someone above recalled it and Natasha's tormented orifices were drawn off the dildo as she started her next caned ascent back up the shaft. 

Walking quickly to distance himself from the area of her torment, Eddie headed for the trailer park, pausing briefly at the left-hand entrance column to pat the cool concrete.

"Hang in there gorgeous, I'll have you out soon." The entombed woman couldn't possibly have heard, but he hoped she could sense his nearness and return to sanity. Eddie could not possibly have known that at that very moment, all three women in the columns were going through an extensive, timed, arousal mode as all their inserts and attachments wound up to maximum for the noon session.


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - SPIN-FUCKED

The last addition to Napper's collection, an unfortunate called Maria who had been inactive since her installation, waited in the silence of the elevator winch room. She couldn't move at all. Nor could she see or hear anything as a result of her confinement, and her entire body ached abominably from the rigours of her enforced folding. But that was of little consequence. She already knew from the testing carried out on her what to expect.

All night she'd strained and heaved at her bindings, but as the morning drew inexorably closer, she had achieved absolutely nothing. Her bonds had not given an inch. By her estimates the time when the elevator would cater to the morning rush was almost upon her.

The gleaming shaft she was bound and compressed against almost to the point of being welded to it, was firmly bolted in place. The flange was mated to a sturdy bearing block so that she was extended horizontally and suspended. Her naked butt pointed towards the massive elevator winch drum, and in fact had another support bearing at that end. In the case of her rump end it was not so conventional. A massive spiral fluted dildo that was bolted to the drum extended deeply into her pussy. Back at the flange end, a chain wheel and chain drive connected the doubled female to the main hoist drum. To one side of her form and parallel was another cable drum. Unlike the elevator winch, it was wound with elastic bungee cord instead of a gleaming steel hoist rope.

Meanwhile, far below Maria, at the bottom of a long elevator shaft, Natasha was the first to hear the car filling with people. Natasha experienced mixed feelings of relief and dread; relief that she would have her stretched orifices pulled from the massive dildos that had been buried in her all night, and dread at the forthcoming renewal of waspish cane strikes on her taut abused bottom.

Suddenly the car was moving. Gasping into her gag, Natasha tried to adjust to her changing predicament as she was rudely plucked from her overnight impalement by the ascending car.

Far above, Maria screamed and pleaded unheard into a gag breather arrangement as she started to rotate. The nightmare had begun. As it happened, the very first car was destined to eventually stop at the top floor, but only after visiting three other floors in between. Each stop gave Maria new hope that it would return to ground level and not take her to the maximum level of torment a top floor stop was designed to give.

Faster and faster she spun, whirling around until she was a blurred outline of rotating curvatures, spinning on the spiral dildo like a top.

Merely spinning at the elevator drum speed would have been bad enough. Unfortunately, Napper's design and the chain gearing spun her shaft in the opposite direction, thus doubling the speed of her rotary fuck.

As she spun another more traumatic feature gathered momentum. The bungee cord drum was unwinding, powered by her own rotation, and wrapping the stretched bungee onto her cinched body in a cocoon that steadily advanced from ankles to exposed buttocks. The 7th floor level was sufficient to cover her completely in tight constricting rubber bungee cord. By the 14th floor the drum- panning device had reversed and added a second neat layer. At the 20th floor a third and final layer was crushing the woman with immense pressure and virtually extruding her spinning rear end in a hardened expanded rump, endowed with shaven pussy mounds that looked like they were about to explode with pressure. Movement by then was absolutely impossible. She was squeezed into a rigid column of spinning womanhood as she was spirally fucked at high speed. The last two or three floors were extremely traumatic. Her pussy was so tightly pressed onto the spiral dildo, in effect a pussy bearing, that orgasm was inevitable. Orgasming as she was spinning under such pressure was hardly a pleasant sensation. It was more like a contained explosion that threatened to tear her apart. After what seemed like an age, the spinning and orgasming came to a stop. Maria, crushed into complete immobility by her overwhelming bondage, tried to contain the panic as she came to a stop, still deeply penetrated by the spiral dildo and sore from her high speed mechanised ravishment. Movement or escape was impossible. It was simply a matter of accepting her predicament and waiting for the next unseen, unsolicited finger to hit an elevator call button. 

Testing had given her a fair idea of what to expect. Aaron and Martin had done several runs with the interconnected dildo bearing shaft removed, and supplemented their own male shafts as the elevator was run from top to bottom. By standing in the space left by the removed dildo shaft they both enjoyed a rotary fuck that surpassed their wildest expectation. Aaron never even lasted the full 20-floor wind. By the time the elevator hit the 14th floor, Maria was bound so tight by the bungee that the pressure she was exerting on his dick became uncontrollable. He spasmed and pumped her full of his seed several times before she rolled to a stop at the 20th. Martin had trouble replacing Aaron's waning dick due to the pressure and had to send the elevator back to ground level just to unwind her and reduce the pressure in her jutting rear end. He was a little luckier than Aaron was. On the next trip the elevator car had people in it that required several floors. As a result, the spinning bungee cord fuck stopped several times and gave him a chance to recover at each stop.

In addition she reversed on several occasions as the elevator went back and forth between intermediate floors. The system was flawless. Once the leering, male antagonist's sexual needs were fully sated, he declared the helpless woman operational after re-installing the massive spiral dildo.

Mercifully this time, Maria's stay at the top floor under extreme compression was short. Another carload waiting in the foyer were impatiently pushing the recall button. The spinning cocooned woman began to unwind at ever-increasing speed and below the car, Natasha sped back down to her personal orifice stretching stalagmites. Neither woman had any idea that they were united in their torment by a shared public elevator shaft.


CHAPTER NINETEEN - REVELATIONS

Eddie returned to the office and sat down. There was sheet of paper on his desk with the lists of all transport weigh station entries. He made a show of checking through them, but in fact his mind was on other things. Wallis was cross checking a copy of the lists on the other side of the office. Eddie saw him rise with the bundle of papers in his hands and watched as he came across to his desk.

"Look at this, Eddie. One anomaly. A truck traveling from Seattle to Oklahoma that only checked in at one weigh station. It missed all the others by using back roads. But just over the state border that back road was closed and it was forced to use the Interstate. Unfortunately, it looks like it was clean. Transport checked it thoroughly. It was carrying pre-cast concrete items for the City Hall rebuild and this Oklahoma PD project. The company is called Road Runner Trucking. They don't appear to be connected to anything we have so far."

Eddie took a look and nodded.

"Okay we weren't really expecting Napper to slip up there were we? But long- shots sometimes pay off." He inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. Wallis hadn't seen the connection he had seen in those papers. The shipment was consigned by Cornwall, Hughes & Bennet Inc. The architects overseeing both Oklahoma projects. Fortunately the concrete casting company's name didn't appear on the manifest, so Wallis had missed the connection so far. He lifted his eyes and looked out of the window to a billboard in front of the Oklahoma PD project. 

Cornwall, Hughes & Bennet Inc. Architects and Consultants, The words stood out like a fucking beacon.

Eddie knew he had to work fast. Things were coming to a head and he had to be ready or end up in a straight jacket at the funny farm. His mind ran overtime as the last bits of a risky plan slotted into place. But first he needed one more thing. The address of those six pleasure centre women and their sadistic minders. That meant another trip to the top floor of the PD to speak to Martin. He knew he would be there as the final shipment had been swung into place early that morning by the crane.

The stairwell was still closed. Eddie had an idea to use the temporary materials elevator, but that was busy being loaded with cement bags. It was the elevator or nothing. The other two elevators in the building were not yet in service.

He entered the car, and after a moment's hesitation, shoved the button for the top floor. The car rose smoothly. There was still no sound from below where a woman was sucked off twin massive dildos and then butt whipped all the way up. Eddie reckoned she must be pretty sore by now, but hopefully still okay. The elevator climbed onwards, and his thoughts went to the spinning female in the winch room, her pussy whirling around on that massive screw dildo and the steadily increasing pressure squeezing her tight and extruding her butt like toothpaste from a tube.

The elevator hit the 20th floor and stopped. He was of two minds as to whether he should send it down again whilst he sought Martin out, but then he decided that if he made it quick, it would be less traumatic for both women if they didn't have to endure another full trip and rewind. As it happened, Martin was busy with the inspector and Eddie didn't get the chance to intervene with a private conversation until a half-hour had passed.

Meanwhile, Maria endured in relative silence, crushed into a stiffened throbbing column of invaded womanhood and mewing pitifully past a gag. Three layers of tight bungee cord had reduced her to a barely recognizable multi-bound effigy of femininity. The mounds of her pussy lips were firm and extruded with extreme pressure, stretched and rounded, suckling on the huge shaft like the rings of Saturn. Her entire rear end was ballooning and hard to the touch. It was endowed with a scarlet hue as a result of the abuse, and to anyone but herself it was an inviting sight to behold. Unable to move, barely able to endure, she waited like a rigid sacrifice to the dildo, almost wishing she would start spinning just so that the pressure would go away.

Finally Eddie got what he wanted, and along with the unsuspecting inspector, they unwound and rotary fucked Maria as they whipped Natasha's ass on the way down, then parked Natasha back on her dildos.

Now came the difficult part.

Eddie had already figured he needed the assistance of at least two of his police colleagues, and his choice right now was Rocky and Wallis. His reckoning was that he had something on both of them that would at least force them to listen before they went off half-cocked and blew the whistle on him. Rocky would try to avoid his previous record becoming known, and Wallis was obviously going to get busted out of the FBI if it became known he had withheld information that was pertinent to the case.

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He entered the office and looked over at Wallis. Rocky was with him and both looked at him with a strange enquiring look. The office was virtually empty save for one detective in the corner. Eddie motioned imperceptibly with his head that he needed to talk privately and then turned to go outside. Wallis and Rocky moved over, and then Eddie noticed that Rocky was holding a cup of fresh coffee and a fistful of chocolate bars. His heart sank.

"Where did you get those Rocky?"

Rocky looked at the bars momentarily and then answered.

"Oh! Didn't you know? The vendo machines up by the canteen are working now. I stocked up while I was up there. That's where everyone vanished to. I just spread the word."

Eddie inwardly died. Detectives were notorious junk food hounds. At this very moment the entire Oklahoma PD were unknowingly fucking the living daylights out of two contorted, securely clamped women who couldn't make a sound as coin after coin was jammed into the slots of the machines, thus activating their mechanised torment. Not to mention two other women connected to a well-used elevator and the others who were suffering the tread of many huge cop feet on the main entrance steps.

He moved outside and waited as the others joined him.

"I've got something to tell you guys, and you ain't going to like it. Trouble is, you are the only guys I figure can help me fix this thing." Both men were silent and listening.

"I'm the Napper." He stopped and waited for a reaction, but it wasn't the one he expected. Rocky and Wallis turned their eyes towards each other as if confirming something. Then Wallis spoke.

"We know Eddie." Eddie was dumbfounded.

"How long have you known?"

Wallis fished for something in his pocket as he answered.

"About an hour." His hand reappeared with a small evidence bag. It was the latex fingerprint cap from the van.

"You screwed up Eddie. Your fingerprint was all over this thing."

Eddie showed his incomprehension.

"It was supposed to be. Those are copies of my fingerprints planted by Napper." Wallis nodded.

"But not on the inside Eddie. Your fingerprint was also on the inside. The smooth side. Only Eddie Valenski himself could have been wearing those things."

Eddie realised he'd fucked up big time.

"Okay so what now?"

Wallis stared him straight in the eye.

"You tell us Eddie. We already spoke to your quack, and he tells us the probability is that you're suffering a temporary split personality disorder."

Eddie nodded.

"I was. It all came back together this morning when I bashed my head again. I can remember everything, every detail, both as Eddie Valenski and the Napper." 

Wallis ran a hand over his forehead.

"Jesus! What a mess. You're gonna do big time for this in the county mental ward Eddie. A jury will bury you. Bent cops, psycho or not, make the public see red. You're in deep trouble my friend."

Eddie hung his head. That much he'd figured for himself. He threw a question at Wallis.

"What else did the quack tell you?"

It was Rocky who answered.

"He reckons that you'll probably return to normal as soon as the pressure from the brain bruising goes down. We didn't tell him what we know, so he figures it's just the headaches." Eddie rubbed his stubbled chin.

"He's right. The knock this morning split my skull back open and I started leaking. The pressure went off, and then everything fell into place. It must have been a fluid pocket pressing the original skull fracture down. Point is, I don't wanna go down for this. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I'm back, this is Eddie Valenski talking. The Napper is dead." He paused to wait for a reaction. Rocky spoke first.

"We're all ears Eddie. I for one owe you. What about you Wallis?" Wallis looked undecided and cursed to himself.

"Goddammit! Sometimes I hate this goddammed job. Give me a break. If I don't report this I'll be out of the FBI within an hour if it got out. I'll become a co-conspirator and I won't get the option of a nice cushy mental ward. I'll serve time in San Quentin. Have you guys got any idea what 'the brotherhood' will do to a convicted Federal officer? They'll be lining up for a piece of me. I'll be public enemy number one on the inside." Rocky broke in.

"Same for me buddy. Ex con turns cop, busts every crook in the precinct, then goes bent again and gets busted himself for complicity in a sex-related crime. I might not even last as long as you pal. In fact I might never even get to trial if the local PD guys get me in a corner on my own."

Eddie considered their viewpoint carefully. It was a really valid point. But just maybe he could swing them his way.

"Listen guys, Napper's assistants, Aaron, Martin and that other asshole Max have been around molesting chicks for years. Then there are the two SM chicks they hang out with. Your system has allowed them to wander around free for years and every time they wriggle out of the charges or serve minimal time. Don't you think it would be better to take them out permanently and make the streets a safer place for innocent chicks?"

Rocky and Wallis looked stunned, and Wallis was the first one to react.

"You mean waste them? Are you still nuts Eddie? No way am I going to turn vigilante to save your hide."

Eddie shook his head.

"No not waste. Have you guys ever considered the punishment should fit the crime? What if I gave you a way to make that happen? You interested?" 

Wallis and Rocky looked at each other long and hard and finally Rocky answered.

"Okay Eddie, let's hear it, but no promises. It had better be good."

Eddie grinned.

"You're just gonna love this. So here's my plan."

The three walked slowly over to the PD building as he explained. Finally he finished, and his attentive audience were at least looking as if the idea had merit. 

"Okay, we'll think it over Eddie, but first we have to figure out how to release all the women." Wallis looked at Eddie with a superlative look. "I already figured you stashed them in the City Hall project."

Eddie shook his head and grinned widely. In a strange way he felt proud that his alter ego had fooled Wallis for so long.

"Uh-uh!" He turned and looked at the refurbished Oklahoma PD building that was being prepared for the big re-opening scheduled for the next day. 

"You're looking at the new home of 37 missing chicks right now guys." 

Wallis jaw dropped open. For the first time in weeks he was speechless.

"Holy bejesus Eddie. You built the missing women into the police headquarters, right under our noses.?" Eddie nodded.

Wallis groaned.

"My God! This is going to be a public relations nightmare. There'll be public uproar when they find out that all the time we were running around in circles chasing women that were right there with us. How the hell could you do that to the department Eddie?" His eyes suddenly latched onto the architect's billboard and he groaned again as he realised that the answer had be staring him in the face for days.

Eddie shrugged.

"Napper wanted to humiliate the department for nailing his ass last time around. This was the ultimate humiliation." He looked up as a puff of vapour rose from the top of the Oklahoma PD building.

"Oh! Shit! They just commissioned the air-conditioning and switched it on." Wallis looked at him with searching eyes.

"So what?"

Eddie looked uncomfortable.

"Four women just got switched on as well. Come on, let's get up there and you guys better decide on the way if you are in or out of this deal. At best it will take another two days to put everything in motion before we reveal that we have found all the chicks alive and well. When we get up there, you guys stay out of sight while I talk to the three perps and start the set-up. Assuming you are in that is. Otherwise you may as well stay with me and arrest us all at the same time." 

Together they mounted the steps, Eddie being careful not to stand on any studs. The other pair, unaware of their significance walked over several. As they walked to the elevator, Eddie decided it was time to tell them all.

The doors slid shut and Eddie, who was nearest to the buttons, moved aside and indicated the others should choose a floor. Wallis was suspicious.

"Why do you want us to push the button Eddie?" Eddie sighed and explained. 

Wallis snatched his hand away from the control panel once all was revealed and cursed.

"Goddammit! We walk up."

Eddie explained that they couldn't. For a time they all just stood there, and then Wallis turned to Eddie.

"Are you sure the women attached to this elevator won't get hurt?" Eddie nodded. 

"I'm sure. It ain't gonna be that much fun for them, but then again, they've been operating all morning, and even Rocky here has fucked 'em a couple of times on his way up and back to the vendo machine." Eddie went on to describe the plight of the unseen occupants of those vendos to an incredulous audience. Rocky shuffled uncomfortably as the story unfolded and Eddie caught him readjusting his pants but said nothing.

Wallis hesitated, and then pressed the button for the 14th floor where Eddie's ex cohorts were. In silence they stood there as the elevator slid up the shaft. Rocky had his eyes riveted to the floor and Wallis was looking up at the ceiling. Both were developing rock hard erections. It boded well for Eddie's future. At least they couldn't deny that they shared the same sensations of arousal felt by most men at the thought of bound women.

By the 14th, they were both red faced and having serious problems rearranging monolithic stiffies.

Eddie grinned internally, but managed to keep a straight face.

"You guys stay here, I'll be back as soon as I've primed the assholes."

Agent Wallis decided to inspect other sections of the 14th floor, probably to see if he could spot any more of Eddie's work. It was a professional pride thing. Rocky watched him wander off and then returned to the elevator.

Ten minutes later Rocky was back at the same floor, and just as he alighted, Eddie reappeared. Guiltily, Rocky tried to hurriedly shove some candy bars into his pocket, and Eddie appraised him with knowing eyes.

"Looks like a helluva lot of candy you bought there Rocky. Was it fun?"

Rocky blushed bright red. It sure as hell had been fun, but he was having trouble admitting it. He couldn't describe the sensation of power it gave him to jam coins in the slots of all three machines and commit two hidden women to a session of face pumping, straining ordeal as they were thoroughly fucked and tit squeezed by the machine. In his mind's eye he could visualise their bondage from Eddie's description, arched into a straining bow with all their good bits thrusting forward. He formed a vivid impression of what they would look like as they squirmed and bulged with futile effort, those cinched balloon breasts being squashed and mauled while their hard nipples became a blur of flickering gear- driven movement. He could imagine them gulping and swallowing as they were pumped full of soup, cheeks inflated, eyes distended, and totally unable to make a sound as they were mechanically fucked. Deliberately Rocky had found himself making sure his face was right in front of the one way glass and he could imagine them desperately praying that he would be able to see them. He had a girlfriend who had been giving him a seriously hard time of late, and then finally dumped him. She was a gold digger and basically his salary didn't cut it. She'd milked him dry and then moved on. Rocky was wishing she was built into one of those machines. He knew for sure that most of his salary would be spent on chocolate and a lot of soup that he didn't want.

"I take it that means you're in on the deal Rocky?" Eddie enquired with a smirk. 

Rocky nodded without answering. Wallis returned, and looked at the two of them questioningly. He sensed something had gone on between them, but neither seemed anxious to reveal what it was. In the end Rocky spoke up first.

"I'm in on this Wallis. How about you? I reckon it's worth a shot if we can solve the case, rescue the chicks, nail the real assholes but good, and get Eddie clear." Wallis looked them both up and down.

"Okay! Against my better judgment, I'm in. Did you prime the three perps Eddie?

"Sure did. They'll meet us at the apartment after working hours. Of course they only expect to find me and the two raving sadist bitches there. Reckon you guys are gonna be a big surprise."

Wallis nodded his agreement as he spoke.

"It works for me. Now I'll get working on my speech to keep the six women on those stands quiet while we work out the rest of this con-man sting. I think I have a good angle on that and they'll go along with our plan without even knowing about it. The only problem I can think of right now is what to do with the female perps till the time comes to arrest with them?"

Eddie thought for a moment and then a sly grin spread over his face.

"Oh I have something perfect for those two that will keep them busy till we're ready. Remember, I, or rather Napper planned this operation for 100 chicks originally. I have at least two spare spaces that come to mind that haven't been filled. Those two will be perfect to fill those slots. We'd best leave early for the apartment and take care of them. We'll need to get them back here and safely taken care off before we go back to clobber the assholes."

Wallis and Rocky decided not to press for more information. They'd know soon enough what Eddie planned for them.


CHAPTER TWENTY-THE TABLES TURN

Nancy opened the door and beamed a welcome at Eddie. Obviously, judging by her flushed look, she had not long vacated one of the pleasure centres. Sounds from the other room advised Eddie that Joan was still partaking her pleasures. The look of happiness on Nancy's face suddenly changed to one of shock as Eddie grabbed her, spun her round and clapped a hand over her mouth.

She struggled for a second and then froze as Rocky and Wallis came into her vision. Seeing that Eddie had control of the one broad, the two of them moved into the next room. There was a squawk of surprise and then sounds of muted anger.

Eddie entered dragging Nancy with him. The sight that met his eyes caused anger to well up in him. The two bitches had been having a field day with the pleasure centres. Those not in use were parked almost vertically upside down with huge floor mounted dildos buried deep into their throats. The strapping had been tightened down to a level that was almost crushing the helpless women, and all of them had been rewired to some sort of controller that was plugged into a mains socket. The controller appeared to bypass the orally activated switches that only punished if the women made a sound. Various knobs and dials indicated that the women could be zapped at much higher levels than he had ever intended they should experience, and on a random whim by one of their antagonists. 

He noticed two of the end women were quivering violently, and realised that they were turned to a maximum constant flow setting. Basically their pussies and asses were frying and their entire body's were in the grip of electrically induced paralysis. It seemed they hadn't pleased their current antagonists and according to the timer, they had been set at this level for several hours. Another woman tilted the other way up, was bug-eyed and cheek bloated. The sadistic bitches had managed to create a watertight facial plug that fitted her oral opening, still jacked open by Napper's patent jaw spreader. The facial plug was connected to a hose, and following the line of the hose back, Eddie saw that it was connected to a tap turned on slightly in the kitchen. The woman was slowly being pressurised as her ability to swallow more was slowly overtaken by the steady flow. Her torment had probably been gradually increasing over several hours as well. Eddie guessed that the bitches were using their torture to get themselves off. She was cinched down so tight it looked like the ratchet bands were about to dissect her bulging, rubber covered form. Given the titanic efforts she was making to escape the steady inflation, he had no doubt it was necessary to be that tight in order to keep her safely contained.

Momentarily frozen with shock at the vision of torment, the men just gaped. Then Eddie galvanised into action.

"Cuff and hobble these bitches, and stuff their mouths to shut them up." He almost threw Nancy towards Rocky and left Joan to Wallis as he lunged for the tap.

It was one of those lever type faucets, and as luck would have it, Eddie shoved it the wrong way in his haste.

The bug-eyed woman HHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMPH! loudly, and as he glanced around he saw her face visibly expand to a bulbous, bloated facsimile and her struggles escalate to a demonic display of frenzied activity. 

"Fuck!" Eddie hit the faucet handle the other way, and promptly snapped the ancient cheap handle clean off. In desperation, panicked by the face that looked about ready to burst as it expanded more and more, he yanked at the hose. 

The MMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPHHHHing! was getting louder by the second as the trussed female was forcibly pumped fuller and fuller, expanding and stretching so that she bulged obscenely past her overstressed bonds. Unseen below her hog-tied figure, her belly was already rock hard and her cheeks were stretched to the limits, pressurised to bursting point. Wallis and Rocky leapt towards the woman and tore at her strapping, but neither understood the release mechanisms that were becoming inoperable and deeply buried I her expanding flesh. The woman's bound body had no elasticity left and her internal pressure was rocketing towards the 24 psi of tap pressure. Helplessly, both Rocky and Wallis screamed at Eddie as they watched her cheeks harden to twin bulging apples of rubberised stress. Her entire body was hard to the touch and quivering with the mounting pressure. All movement was gone now; even her most frantic struggles had been eradicated by the expansion that was tightening her up in the restraints to an impossible level at incredible speed. Bulging eyes pleaded with her fumbling rescuers. She couldn't tell the men but her previous tormentors had been doing this to her on a regular basis for the last day and a half. But never to this level and never this fast.

The hose finally gave up the battle and separated from the tap. Water gushed everywhere, some from the tap and the rest squirting out of a broken hose as the woman deflated with a muffled groan.

Eddie rushed to her aide, then remembered that there were two other women being slowly fried by their electrical inserts. He yanked the plug out of the wall and was relieved to see them slump into their bonds.

It took Eddie a half-hour to release all six women, mostly because he had to assist them off the stands and allow each one time to overcome the agonising cramps of returning circulation. Even though the mouth jacks were removed, none of them were able to speak for quite a while. Meantime, Joan and Nancy had been securely hog-tied and gagged with the combination of cuffs all three men carried.

Six recovering women were staring venomously at the chained bitches, and none of the men had any doubt that once capable, they would tear the bitches to pieces given half a chance. Nancy and Joan were fully aware of that and the fear showed in their eyes. All of a sudden their Utopia had turned into a worst scenario nightmare.

One of the recovering women turned to face Eddie with the same vehemence. 

"And you! You BASTARD! Wait till I get my hands on you."

Eddie recoiled, but Wallis held up his hand as he realised what was going on in her mind.

"It wasn't Eddie who kidnapped you, it was the Napper posing as Eddie. Eddie is the cop that put all this together and tracked you down." He looked at Eddie and shrugged. It wasn't really lying. Eddie and Napper were two completely different people.

It took almost an hour to convince the women, and it required a complete listing of all the things Napper had done to implicate Eddie. Eventually the women reluctantly accepted the explanation, and after much massaging by the men, they were slowing regaining the use of their limbs. The one woman who had almost burst due to Eddie's bull-at-a-gate rescue finally finished leaking water from all orifices and vacated the bathroom where she had been carried in and left to recover in privacy.

The attention suddenly reverted to the two bound bitches nearby. Murder was in the air. Again Wallis stepped in, joined by Rocky and then Eddie as they fought to persuade the newly released captives to leave retribution to the experts. One of the women was quite outspoken; as it happened, it was Helen, the parole officer who Eddie had just accidentally inflated. The others shared her views. 

"Fuck you! And let these bitches get a slap on the wrist and a warning. Fuck you and the lousy legal system. I vote we sort these bitches out right now. I know the system and I'm sick and tired of mamby-pambying these fucking jerk-offs that the courts let go free."

Finally Eddie managed to get a word in and explained his idea of a punishment to fit the crime. He'd borrowed some material from Aaron and explained it in detail. The bound bitches overheard and started to kick up a serious racket as a protest. That seemed to swing it Eddie's way. The six women liked seeing the fear and anger that saw Eddie's idea was generating in the bitches that had used them so viciously. The women began to listen with more conviction as Rocky took up the conversation.

"But first we have to store them somewhere while we set up the ambush for the male assholes. If we're lucky the Napper will be with them when they arrive, but that isn't a certainty. We'll at least get the three assholes that were helping him. Eddie has had an idea on that but you don't need to know apparently."

Helen interjected.

"Leave them here, we'll look after them and keep them quiet won't we girls?" She looked at the others with an evil grin and they all nodded with eager anticipation.

Wallis shook his head and laughed as he added his bit to the discussion.

"Sorry ladies. No can do. I have no doubt what will happen the moment we leave. Besides, there's something else you have to do to help us set up this sting operation."

The women looked on expectantly, and after a pause Wallis took a deep breath and then explained.

The room exploded into heated exclamations of anger and refusal from the women. 45 minutes later the combined efforts of all three men had finally managed to convince the distressed and angry ladies of the need to stick with the plan if they really wanted to see the scum bags and their girlfriends suffer a just punishment. 

Thirty minutes elapsed as the men prepared six very unsure women for phase two of the plan. In the end, they stood back and surveyed all six rescued women, re- rubberised and re-mounted on the pleasure centres. That was the first sight that the three assholes would see as they walked in, and given their lustful anticipation, Eddie had no doubt they would walk right in without wondering where their girls were when presented with a renewal of that last Super Bowl experience.

The last details needed to be tidied up. Mouth jacks were ready to be reinserted under protest, but Eddie managed to convince the bound women that everything needed to look authentic at first glance.

Helen glared at Rocky as he offered up the mouth jack. She was already clamped into her hog-tie, as were the rest, and she was the last to be silenced. The others were already past the point of no return, and probably regretting it already. She locked eyes with Rocky and gave him a warning.

"This had better work fuck-head or I'll have your ass." Rocky eased the mouth jack in and tightened up as Helen grunted. Eddie watched, then cleared his throat.

"And now the last detail. That loose strapping won't fool anyone. These guys know that their chicks are sadistic bitches, and they know they would never allow you to be loose. Sorry ladies."

A chorus of angry sounds issued from the bound six and the men jammed the round plugs into their gaping jacked mouths, thus reducing the furious exclamations of betrayal to a muffled cursing. Then one by one the women were inexorably ratcheted down, every click reducing their furious struggles to nothing as they were returned to a status of cinched, bulging, rubberised fury.

Finally Eddie was satisfied that the level of bondage would pass muster. The three rescuers started to move the bound bitches out as the surly six fumed and strained in a line of silenced seething anger. Rocky and Wallis were having the same problem as Eddie himself. That final act of tightening them down, whilst necessary, was somewhat non-consensual. All of them had throbbing stiffies as a result, and it was difficult to hide them from the glaring, accusing eyes of the six impotised female pleasure centres.

Eddie turned back as they were about to close the door on that scene of seething anger.

"Trust me ladies. Trust me. You are just going to love hearing about what we did to this pair."

The glaring eyes seemed unconvinced, and Eddie knew that before the final act, he would have to show them just what did occur. He knew they were going to approve, and once the three assholes were taken care of, he felt sure that this little betrayal would be forgiven.


CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - SPINNING BUTT FUCK

An hour later, with the help of his new cohorts, Eddie had managed to smuggle the two bound females into the Oklahoma PD building and up to the public elevator winding room. Boggle-eyed, his two male colleagues and two very scared SM women watched as they were introduced to their temporary roles in life. For ten minutes, as the men set up the next stage, the evil captives were allowed to watch the spinning elastic encased woman as she reversed and spun in a never ending cycle of rotary fucking and compression. When everything was ready, they moved the struggling females to the other winch house that serviced the two staff elevators and fitted them to identical T-bars. Eddie was particularly zealous in drawing the laces of the cocoons ultra tight, whilst Rocky made sure that neither was going to be able to make a sound that would reveal their identity.

Finally they were ready. Wallis and Rocky hid in a nearby service shaft whilst Eddie called upon his former Napper co-conspirators for assistance.

Eagerly all three arrived and he pointed to the straining stiffened bundles lying on the floor.

"Hi Guys. Change of plan. These two policewomen figured it out and I had to neutralise them. Fit the pair of them to those spare elevator devices we planned for the ones we never managed to get before the Seattle operation went tits up. We may as well make good use of spare equipment. Two of their own discovered at the same time as we tell them about all the others should really make the Oklahoma PD squirm."

It didn't take a second bidding to get action. The three virtually pounced on the bound forms and in record time had them installed and connected. The bungee ropes were attached, bearing flanges and drive chain mechanisms bolted into place Just as they were about to install the dildos mounted on the winch drums, Eddie halted them.

"No! Stop! For this pair something a little different I think. Shaft them up the ass. I want to see them spinning on those tight little butt holes." Enthusiastically the men readjusted alignment, and mistaking the desperate attempts by the anonymous bound shapes to reveal their true identities as shows of anger and resistance, they jammed the huge spiral dildos into their tight puckering assholes with relish.

All was ready. The elevators had already been tested and approved by inspectors. It was just a matter of switching over the maintenance lock out. Eddie saw that both elevators were at shaft bottom.

"Switch them on and bring them up." Martin was almost ejaculating as he inserted the key and called both elevators to the maintenance level.

Instantly, two very frightened women began to spin rapidly on massive anal dildos as the bungee began to cocoon them in super tight coils of elastic. All three men watched wide-eyed as the process continued, the black sheen of their inner sheath slowly vanishing under coil after coil of compressive rubber. Soon they had vanished from sight and all movement was ruthlessly eradicated. And then the next layer went on, squeezing and extruding their buttocks like massive, steadily hardening, twin peaches as the pressure increased. Eddie had set the bungee tension to maximum, and he watched avidly as the two cruel women suffered some of their own medicine. He had to admit, they had real pert firm asses, and they were getting firmer by the second. The elevator reached the 20th floor and the blurred images of whirling buttocks slowed to a stop. Eddie reached out and squeezed one of the taut lobes. It was nice and firm. The bitch Nancy was really trussed now and the pressure was pushing her pussy mound out into stark relief. 

He studied her spin fucked asshole closely, the tight sphincter stretched taut and shiny around the dildo shaft. It was warm to the touch. Lots of nice friction there to keep them both happy. Unlike the other woman on the public elevator winding gear, Eddie had deliberately neglected to connect the hollow spiral dildo shaft to the elevator's self-lubricating system. These assholes were running dry. 

Martin was as usual, trying to hide the wet stain spreading across the crotch of his jeans. A faint flexing of the bungee cord wrapped drum did little to help his control. The two elastic wrapped females were obviously quite anxious to be free of their confinement.

Eddie remembered the hidden onlookers in the cramped space nearby.

"Hey! Guys, go check on those air-conditioned chicks will ya, and I'll see you later at the apartment."

Aaron hesitated. He wanted to see more of this pair in action. But Eddie consoled him.

"Hey man, you can watch them for days once everything is squared away." Aaron seemed content with that.

"Okay, but just as long as our own chicks get to see this. They'll wet their knickers when they see what you did to a couple of cops."

Eddie grinned widely.

"Don't worry fellas, I guarantee both of them will get full introduction to this. They'll be experts at the finer points of rotary butt-fucking by the time I finish." 

He watched as they left and then called out to Rocky and Wallis.

"So far so good. Stage two, we make sure we get to the apartment just before these wankers."

Rocky nodded but neither of the men were able to take their eyes off the twin winding mechanisms as they began to independently spin first one way and then the other as the elevators moved up and down the shafts.

Eddie called up Joan's elevator to carry them down. He saw her as the more nasty of the two and was going to enjoy taking the car down at her expense. He gave the taut asses a pat, bid them goodbye, and they all exited the winding gear room.

After a very uplifting journey to the ground floor, Eddie hit the top floor button with a grin, and they left as the car doors slid shut.

Halfway across the car park, a voice rang out.

"Valenski, Wallis, Rocky. Get your asses in here pronto!" It was the Captain. 

Eddie looked at the other two with a feeling of dread then faced the Captain. 

"But Cap', we're on to something and we have to follow it up right now." 

The Captain glowered at them.

"I said NOW! I just got my ass chewed big time by the President and the fucking Mayor. I want a full briefing in my office now. We're going to go over everything and take a look at what we missed. I want this case cracked in 24 hours. Now get your asses into my office or hand in your badges, and that means you as well, Fed Man. Your boss put you on my team for the duration of this case."

Three and a half hours of monotonous and methodical recapping of old evidence later, the Captain finally called the meeting closed. Eddie and his cohorts spent the entire time looking at watches and fidgeting nervously. The construction gang outside had long since packed up for the day and gone home. Nothing new came out of the evidence review, and there were still only three people in the room who knew the real story.

As the Captain called a close to the meeting, chairs crashed back as the three raced from the room. A minute later the captain stared out of his window as they jammed into Eddie's Terminator and took off in a cloud of rubber smoke. The Captain shook his head and muttered to himself.

"That fucking maniac Valenski. One of these days!" He left the thought unfinished. Secretly he admired Eddie's unorthodox approach to police work. It produced results.

Fifteen minutes later, the Terminator had covered the normal thirty minute travel distance to the apartment and the three were grouped outside. It was decided that the best approach was for Eddie to go in first as he was expected, and the others to follow as soon as he had the assholes engaged in conversation.


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - MAD MAX

Eddie eased the door open. He could hear laughter and the sound of someone grunting with pleasure. It sounded like Martin was up to his balls in a female face again. Carefully he jammed the door-lock mortise with a credit card and then pushed it closed behind him. Bracing himself, he walked airily into the room where the three assholes were having a ball. At that point he stopped dead. The sight that met his eyes was devastating.

All six women were still mounted as they had left them, but changes had been made. None of them were nice, and none designed for their comfort. All were designed to impart maximum trauma.

The cinching had been tightened up to a level they had never experienced before. Two of the women were head down and servicing Martin and Aaron. Three others were merely parked with weights attached to their cinched tits, whilst Max was busy with his former parole officer, Helen.

Eddie blanched and felt his blood run cold. The nubile, statuesque female he knew as Helen had been reconnected to the faucet. Not only that but the method of connection had changed considerably. Clearly, Max had borrowed some fittings from the construction site and improved her scaling by a quantum leap. 

"Hi Eddie." He gestured to Helen. "How do you like the improvements? I rang the girls earlier and they told me what they were doing with this one, so I thought I could improve on the system. They're a pair of fucking amateurs really. No idea how to extract maximum effect from a system like this. Just filling the bitch with water is kid's play compared to what you can do if you know a bit about anatomy and the human body. All they achieved was to fill her cavities. Slow saturation is the way to go. In fact, females are the best ones to play with, much better water retention. Their cells naturally hoard moisture. Look at those tits, designed to hold liquid, and the way she's set up, they're the lowest point. Water always finds the lowest level first. Feel those fucking tits man. Like fucking cannonballs. They must weigh twice what they normally weigh and they're hard as rocks."

Eddie ran his eyes over the result of Max's warped technology. Helen's tits truly were like black rubber-sheathed cannonballs. That had to be painful in the extreme.

Helen's pleasure centre stand was arranged horizontally and her head was drawn back to neck breaking levels by the clamps so that she could only look directly ahead. He could see that she had been shoe-horned into a second rubber suit over the top of the first, possibly even three suits. But that was of minor importance and paled into insignificance when compared to the other innovations.

There were two extra tubes from a three way splitter on the faucet, which now had a new handle and a compression fitting to ensure the pipe wouldn't blow off. Both of the new tubes ran between the ankles that were clamped tightly to her butt and into the cleft of her bottom. The final connections were almost hidden by her heels and hog-tied ankles that drew her feet tightly into the swell of her buttocks. But shiny brass compression flanges revealed where they went. One was in her ass, the other her pussy. Both were the double flange type designed to clamp and form a watertight seal when a pipe was plumbed into a tank. Her sphincter and pussy were obviously clamped tight between unforgiving metal and fully sealed by the invading pipes. Her head was another matter. A band of thick reinforced rubber had been stretched over her rubberised cheeks, and a third pipe led straight into her mouth through the hole in the centre of the extra band. The method used to seal that orifice was brutal and effective.

Image 22

Her generous lips had been teased through the central hole in the rubber cinching band, and then a hose clip tightened onto them, thus clamping her lips cruelly to the pipe jammed into her mouth and producing an enforced pout. If it weren't for the severity of the connection, she looked quite sweet with her lips clamped into a permanent pucker.

She was painfully pressurised, cheeks bulging and eyes bugging out. As she perceived Eddie entering her peripheral vision her eyes pleaded for help, but she was obviously terrified of making any sound that might earn her more torment. Max's set-up was taking her much further than the crude system devised by the Nancy and Joan. Helen was seriously connected and basically hermetically sealed this time. Max had converted her into a genuine item of plumbing. Eddie made as if to speak but Max interrupted before he could say anything.

"Someone didn't install her jaw jack properly. The bitch bit me when I tried to fuck her face in the pleasure centre format. But I reckon after I finish with her she'll be a bit more careful about who she bites."

Again Eddie tried to speak, but Max was too intent on revealing his genius for retraining recalcitrant women. He was prodding and poking the bound woman with relish.

"Feel her Eddie. I converted the bitch into one of those blow-up dolls. The cock-biting whore is a solid fuck-toy." Eddie touched her shining taut rubber- sheathed surface and recoiled. It was true; she was as hard as a rock and quite cool. The bulging curves of her body felt like an over inflated tyre, and yet she was still the same curvaceous shape. Eddie would have expected her to blow up like a balloon, but clearly the triple layer of rubber and her super-tight cinching was holding her in. She had retained her sleek, proportioned shape without any visible expansion other than her cheeks and a slight swelling between cinches. Helen had simply solidified. In fact, he was experiencing a sneaking sensation of pleasure when he touched her incredibly tormented form. It was a truly amazing conversion, but at a cost to the woman that he considered unacceptable.

Max proudly explained.

"I used to be a medic. I know about these things. Pressurise a human body gradually and all the capillaries will slowly absorb the water from her stomach and mouth. That normally shows as they get huge and fat. So I put this bitch into three undersized rubber suits to keep her nice and compact. Over the last three hours I topped her up each time she lost pressure and her cells absorbed the water. Nothing can escape when she's sealed inside three rubber suits. The bitch can't even sweat to shed any water. It just stays next to the skin and enhances the retention effect.

It's great fun, and thanks to your stand design I can do anything I like. Little Miss Snooty parole chick is all trussed up good and tight and perched there like a rubber water tank. She can't move a muscle or even twitch and she certainly can't complain. The bitch is just fixed solid and has to take whatever I feel like squirting into her." He prodded her bulging cheeks again, slapped her rock hard, spherical tits from side to side, and laughed as they rebounded from each other, the taut rubber spheres shimmering as they vibrated with tension.

"Heh heh! Every time she gained a bit of relief and went soft, I just tweaked the tap and pumped her up again to keep her nice and hard. All that waiting for the pressure to drop, and all it took was a few seconds to take her right back to where she started. I kept her right on the edge to remind her what happens to cock- biters. I reckon I've pumped about five gallons into her so far, and she just absorbed it. The bitch is a regular human sponge. It must be those big tits, I bet they hold a gallon each at that size."

The bulbously expanded tits emitted a dull thunking noise as they took another slapping to demonstrate and Helen screwed her eyes shut as the hard tit spheres cannoned off each other.

"She gave us a lot of great displays trying to escape every time she saw me go to the faucet, and that look on her face when you open the faucet and start filling her is something else. She sure knows how to beg and plead with her eyes. Not that it did her any good, all she can do is follow my hand to the faucet with her eyes and watch as I open it. One good long squirt every ten minutes or so and she was back to bug-eye mode in an instant. If I'd had the time I could have put her on a timer device and pressure switch so she stayed nice and hard all the time while I face-fucked the others. But then again, it's more fun having her on a manual system. Maybe I'll put her on an automatic system overnight with the clock right in front of her eyes. She can keep herself amused by watching the timer counting down to each refill and just hope that I didn't miscalculate on how much she can take. I'm sure she'll think back over the wisdom of biting me when she's wondering if the next fill is gonna bust her open like a ripe plum."

He slapped Helen's bulbous tits into motion again, then continued with his bragging as Helen's eyes showed fear. If anything, the thought of being ruthlessly re-pressurised by a machine whilst no human hand was present to oversee the operation was even more frightening than having a sadistic lunatic tweaking the faucet handle on a regular basis. Max proudly continued to air his knowledge on the subject.

"The trouble is; for her anyway, is that there is a limit to how much she can absorb. She maxed out an hour ago. Total tissue saturation. Anything from now on just increases the pressure with no relief. There's no more space in her to take water, she's totally waterlogged and she'll be pissing non-stop for a week once I decide to drain her. Little Miss Cock Tease parole officer sure is learning to be a good cock sucking slave the hard way." He laughed at his own pun, and prodded Helen's bulging cheek as he taunted her.

"Ain't that right bitch?"

As his hand reached out to the faucet, Helen mewed pitifully and her horrendously cinched body rippled with frantic effort as she strove to escape the inevitable escalation of her torment. Despite all the exertion, her bound form barely achieved any movement at all.

Max ignored the desperate plea, gave the faucet handle a quick jerk and then closed it to a slow, deliberately calculated trickle before finally closing it off again.

"Listen to the bitch stretching Eddie." He reached out with his other hand and viciously squeezed a cannonball tit as it inexorably hardened yet more. "Ain't that just the most enjoyable sound you ever heard coming from a woman who pissed you off? Imagine how tight her pussy lips are right now, they must be so swelled with fluid they just about sealed up her slit, and I'll bet her clit' is as hard and stiff as a pencil with all that extra pressure." He chuckled gleefully, "and there's no way she can get herself off. She's just one super horny, rock hard, rubberised dick teaser with no place to go."

It was true. Helen's clit was rigidly hardened and throbbing with desperate need despite the torment, and her pussy lips were stretched to a level that enhanced their sensitivity to a fantastic degree. Only the fear of what a lunatic like Max could do to her prevented a massive spontaneous orgasm from erupting in her loins.

Eddie heard the sound of creaking from overstressed rubber and cinch straps and another more sinister sound that could only be Helen's body trying to adapt to the relentless pressure. It was the sort of sound one hears in the rigging of a sailing ship or when a moored ship is pulled against the hawsers by an ebbing tide, stretching them to the limit. A slow groaning creak of something under extreme load. In this case the thing under load was a living pressure vessel in the form of a tightly bound female. To Max, she was nothing more than an erection generator that made pleasing sounds and enhanced his sadistic lust.

The visible part of Helen's face was turning a light shade of purple. Her rubber- sheathed cheeks were already bulging out past the extra cheek strap both above and below, but the initial short burst of the faucet produced an explosive pulse of extreme expansion before she could adjust to the inflow. Her eyes were ranging wildly from side to side as she sought escape from the indescribable torment. 

In addition to the sounds of a super-stressed body, the increasing pressure wrung a loud, strained groan from her vocal cords.

"HUUUUUUMMMMMMMRRRR!"

Eddie caught her eyes and saw murder in them, directed at himself. His own words rang in his head.

Trust me ladies. Trust me.

Dammit, they had; and now this. He could imagine the terror those helpless women must have felt when the scum-bags entered without him. At that point, they would have known something had gone wrong. Eddie felt terrible about the fact that he had left them there as bound, helpless bait. For three or more hours now they had suffered because he fucked up.

Max reached over and prodded the hard cheeks.

"Hmmm! I think she can take a bit more yet. A couple more hours like that and I think she'll be very cooperative. Unfortunately for her she's going to have to take it a lot longer than that. I'm really warming to the idea of putting her on automatic overnight. I figure that by morning she'll be begging to suck my cock. Meantime I'll just top her up every now and then to make up for any moisture loss from sweat that the suit might absorb. What do you think Eddie?" He turned and froze. Suddenly he was looking down the nasty end of a 9mm Howitzer in the hands of a really pissed off cop.

"Get her out of that, NOW YOU SICK BASTARD-!"

Max didn't move. Instead he tightened his grip on the faucet handle.

"Or what, Mr Cop Man? You shoot me and I pull this handle wide open. Before you can switch it off she'll bust open like a ripe melon and run all over the place. The bitch will make one helluva mess." Eddie paused, then pulled back the hammer purposefully.

"Take your hand off the faucet or so help me I'll blow you away right now."

Max just grinned and called his bluff. He jerked the faucet open for a second and then snapped it closed. To the side of him Eddie heard that ominous creaking of straining rubber, and a long drawn out "HHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRR!" of agonised distress as Helen's cinched body was given another boost of torment.

His arm was touching her thigh and he felt her body harden even more. A quick glance at her face revealed that she was a deep purple shade now and the pressure was so intense that a tiny stream of water was squirting out from her lip seal.

"Three seconds to put the gun down Mr Cop Man or I yank this thing open all the way."

Eddie figured it was a standoff. He had to delay long enough for Wallis and Rocky to get in position before he could do anything. Where the fuck were they? Reluctantly he lowered the gun, but kept it in his hand.

"That's better. Now fix that leaking bitch." He tossed a screwdriver that Eddie caught instinctively with his free hand. Eddie looked Max straight in the face. 

"Fuck you asshole."

Max's face steeled grimly.

"Then I'd better make up the loss with another fill. Can't have the bitch going soft."

Before Eddie could protest Max gave the faucet another quick pull and Helen responded with another stifled groan as her colouring deepened and her cheeks took on the sheen of tautly stretched rubber as the pressure inexorably increased. So savage was the expansion that her pouting lips and the diabolical tube fitting were actually becoming recessed in the strain-etched face as the leak became more pronounced. The tiny jet increased its force and was now reaching almost a yard out from her lips.

Image 23

"HHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRR!"

Her face was instantly converted into a gargoyle of overstressed torment. Eddie had seen women give birth, but this was something far beyond that, made all the worse by her clamped puckering lips and expanding cheeks. There was simply no way for the woman to vent her mounting trauma. The rubber creaked, cinching straps groaned and even the fibreglass and steel of the stand was making sounds of overload. Bar taut straps were transferring the load to the framework. It was never designed to take the load imparted by something that was being steadily pressurised to 24 pounds per square inch.

Seething with anger, Eddie saw no other course. He had to obey. This maniac was over the edge and he was hoping Eddie would refuse so that he could have an excuse to pull the faucet wide open and watch Helen burst.

He turned, and looking into her eyes apologetically he put the screwdriver to her hose-clipped lips and screwed the clamp tighter. She made some pathetic mewing pleas in her throat but couldn't move a muscle as he tightened her up like a leaking radiator hose. The lips jutting beyond the hose clip turned blue and became shiny-tight as they were extruded with pressure. The jetting water slowed down and stopped. Eddie saw it stop, but gave the clamp another turn to make sure and earned an accusing glare from the helpless woman. She didn't understand. His thinking was that a little pain now might prevent a lot more if she leaked again. He was mistaken. Before he could turn back to face Max, Eddie heard the squeak of the faucet again and the pipe clamped into her face pulsed as Max sent short, savage, explosive bursts into her that were calculated to extract the utmost voyeuristic pleasure for him. Helen screwed her eyes tightly shut as she tried to cope with the diabolical internal stresses. She was begging for mercy but each desperate entreaty was punctuated by the bursts and yet another groan of torment.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRUUUGGGGGGGGG!

"NNNrr!

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRRRRR!

"NNNrr! NNNrr!

"HHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMRRUUUGGGGGGGGG!"

Her body was being ruthlessly nudged up to each new level of straining torment without her having even the remotest chance to escape the escalating trauma. 

"Just topping her up Eddie. Can't have her leaking like that and losing pressure. She might think I'm going soft and get ideas about biting again." He gave her a fourth burst for good measure.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMRRUUUGGGGGGGGG!"

The creaking and stress sounds filled the room as Max kept the faucet slightly open, and Helen's face took on a deepening shade of purple going on blue as he deliberately held the faucet cracked open for a full three seconds and took Helen right to the limit. His eyes were shining and riveted to the object of his lust. 

Breath was blasting from her flared nostrils as she fought to contend with her horrendous plight, her eyes fixed helplessly on the pipe that was channeling the water into her face.

Max was holding them all to ransom with a bomb, and she was the excruciatingly tormented human bomb.

"That's enough, you asshole. I did what you said. Now leave her alone."

Max was feeling confident. He ignored Eddie's plea.

"Go on Mr Cop Man. Put your hands on her. Feel her all over. Feel how I turned the stuck up bitch into a solid rock. She can't even twitch. Try and imagine what it's like for her. She's finding out what she does to a guy's dick when she waves her tits and ass at us. Now she's stiff and hard. I turned her into a giant hard on." His hand tightened its grip on the faucet handle as an unspoken threat and Eddie had no choice but to appease the madman.

She was hard to the touch and devoid of any of the normal minute movements associated with a living being. It was like stroking rubber coated steel. Eddie couldn't even begin to imagine what it felt like. At Max's bidding he tried to poke her, but achieved only a modicum of indentation. Max insisted that he kept feeling her all over and laughed as he gave the woman more short bursts of the faucet.

"Is she getting nice and hard Eddie boy? She making you hard when you look at her Eddie boy? You like her like that? Ask me to give her another burst Eddie. You know you really want to. Feel the power. You can do what you like to her and she can't do a thing. She's just a pussy on the end of a pipe and you can have her as hard as you like. Just say the word."

Eddie glowered hatred at Max and said nothing.

"Ask me Eddie boy or I split the bitch open. Tell me to give her some more. I wanna hear you give the order. Tell me to give her another good burst Eddie, Tell me to pump the bitch up good and hard. I want this bitch to hear you and know who the fuck is running this show now."

Eddie gritted his teeth. The guy was right off his rocker. There was nothing to do but comply at this stage. He looked directly at Helen's pleading eyes as he spoke. She was begging him not to give the order and to find a way to end her torment.

"Give her another burst Max."

What did you say Eddie, I didn't hear it. Speak up or I'll open this full." Eddie's face was suffused with rage and his hands were shaking.

"I said, give her another burst Max, pump the bitch up good and hard." 

Max grinned widely and looked back to the suffering woman. Lustful anticipation was etched on his face and he was sweating with an adrenaline overdose. 

"Sure Eddie Boy. Anything for a friend." Eddie heard a pitiful mewing plea from Helen as Max's hand gripped the faucet handle tighter in preparation for the next installment of pressurised water.

"Hear that bitch? Your pal wants me to make you nice and hard for him. He wants you feel what it's like to be stiff and hard like a man's cock." The hand moved and extracted another agonised groan from Helen.

"HHHHHHUUUGGRRRRRRRRRRRR-HHHHUUUUUUGGRRRRRRRRR!"

The creaking intensified to a whole new level and Helen physically swelled a fraction under Eddie's hand. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut as she absorbed more and more. He cursed the fact that he had designed those damned stands so strong and inescapable. Eddie knew he had to break this train of events fast. She was drum tight and ready to blow.

But Max was having far too much fun to stop now.

"Feel her again Eddie. Feel those cannonball tits. Reckon she can take some more, do you? Want her a bit harder Eddie? Ask me again Eddie. Put your hand on her cheeks and feel it going into her." Eddie hesitated and Max almost screamed at him.

"Do it! Ask me again, Eddie. Tell me you wanna hear the bitch stretching like a fucking balloon. Tell her you like feeling her being pumped up nice and hard." 

One look at Max's crazed expression told him that the nutcase was on the brink. 

Eddie almost spat the words out in a monotone voice that was barely under control. Helen just had to take more until he figured out how to blow away this shithead without getting her killed. There was no other way. Max had to be humoured. Eddie locked eyes with Helen and tried to convey his terrible dilemma as he spoke. Her eyes were begging him not to give the order.

"I reckon the bitch needs more Max. Give her some more, make her really hard and let's hear her stretching. I want to feel her being pumped up till she's really hard and tight."

Again there was that desperate mewing sound and the squeak of the faucet, and then, "HHHHHHHHMMMMMMMRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG!" as the bound, helpless woman was agonisingly stretched and hardened even more.

Eddie looked away, he couldn't watch any more. The word torment no longer applied here. Helen was well into the realms of torture now. Rubber and leather were creaking loudly, and Helen's cheeks expanded a fraction more. They were as solid as freshly picked apples. Eddie felt the water flowing into her. Her entire form was unmoving and yet he could feel her body shuddering with internal stresses as she strove to absorb the influx. She was paying a huge price for that one bite, and it was all his fault. Eddie desperately looked for something to divert Max' attention from the object of his sadistic enjoyment.

He looked over to the other two men who by now were watching the standoff with interest. They both still had their dicks buried in the faces of their personal pleasure centres, and Eddie then noticed that the electrics on all the others had been changed. He had no doubt that the tens were now replaced by much more powerful units. An observation confirmed by the fact that all the women were rigid and vibrating with electrical paralysis. Not only had the assholes beefed up the power pack, but they also added metal neck electrodes to ensure that each woman was zapped through her entire body.

Max was talking again, but at least he was following Eddie's stare and his attention was off Helen for the moment, or so he thought.

"You see Mr Cop Man, things have changed around here. We ain't taking any more of your Mr Switcheroo shit. These broads are ours. We do what we want with them. You can have the rest." To emphasize his complete power over their fate, he gave Helen another short burst with the faucet that produced even more stretching and straining sounds from her restraints and wrung another agonised sound from her sealed lips.

"MMMMMMUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG!"

The shuddering sound being forced from Helen's tormented body was deepening and becoming more and more laden with unendurable strain from which there was no escape and no relief. Max taunted her as he slapped her rock hard tits with his free hand.

"Get used to it bitch. In a couple of days you'll be a broken slut just begging to suck cock. Maybe then, just maybe, I'll let you drain, take that pipe out of your mouth and give you a chance to prove how sorry you are that you bit me. Until then I'm gonna keep you cinched up like a rubberised mummy, pumped up real good and hard because I like the feel of you like that. It sort of repays me for all the times you waved your tight-skirted ass in my face when I was a parolee. You made my dick hard, now I'm returning the favour and making you hard."

Max bent down and leered straight into a contorted face, at the same time cognizant of the threat from Eddie and mindful to keep his hand on the faucet.

"When the broads get back I'm gonna use you to teach them how to do it properly. If they fuck up and you bust in the process, I've got five more to let them practice on. You ain't a stuck up, snooty, dick teasing parole officer with power anymore. You're just a piece of pumped up pussy on a pipe; a blow up doll. Understand bitch?" Helen was silent and in a show of bravado, she glared venom at him through bloodshot eyes. At least she had something over on him. The vicious prick didn't know that his crazy broads were already a discontinued threat.

"I said, do you understand bitch?"

He didn't even give her time to answer before his hand moved and Helen responded to the escalating trauma.

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG!"

Another short burst extracted a painfully forced answer from the pussy on the pipe.

"You see, you can learn new tricks, can't you bitch?" Helen didn't answer fast enough and earned herself another twist of the faucet.

"MMMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGG!"

The look of bravado was snuffed out like a candle by the last injection of water and replaced with fear.

"Uhmph! Umph! Umph!"

Desperately she was trying to appease her rabid tormentor with muffled affirmatives. She couldn't nod, move her head, her body, or in fact anything other than her eyes.

"Louder bitch, I can't hear you." The faucet turned and extracted another long recital of suffering from the woman as he subjected her to a series of bursts too close together to allow her any time to reply. 

"MMMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGG! NNNNNNNNNNNNNNRRRRRGGGG!"

Yet somehow she found the strength to try and communicate. 

"UUUURR!"

Max's hand closed the faucet.

"I take it that was a yes then?" 

"UUUURR!"

Clearly Max didn't give a shit about anything any more. He was on a rampage and the focus of his rage against women was Helen. She was just a bargaining tool, a piece of ass that needed to be taught a lesson. A living female balloon that he could use to sate his sadistic lust. Max wasn't going to stop until Helen performed the ultimate thrill for him. Eddie knew that sooner or later he was going to burst her for the sheer hell of it.

He could see her bulging eyes fixed fearfully on the hand holding the faucet handle. Any movement was completely impossible for her now. The cinches had almost vanished into her rubberised flesh and the rubber itself was at maximum stress. It had no more give left and it was as if she was encased in steel. Her immediate future was in the hands of a madman.

Max called across to his henchman who were still buried dick deep into their pleasure centres.

"Turn those cock sucking bitches up a few notches guys. Let's show this double crossing Cop prick what real control is all about."

"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH! UUUURGGGGGGHHH!"

The room rang with the sounds of torment as the current surged upwards and the women convulsed in unison. The electrified women were quivering violently, their muscles rigid bars of tensed sinew, veins standing out on their faces so prominently that even a rubber hood could not hide them. Martin immediately ejaculated into the throat of his pleasure centre, and Aaron quickly followed him. Both of them were on a sexual high as a result of the punishment being meted out to Helen and the others.

"Hold them at ten and if this shit makes one wrong move take them up to twenty and fry them." Max said as he turned back to Eddie.

Your move, Mr Cop Ma!"

The words remained unfinished as a hall mirror relayed images of two armed guys creeping up the passageway.

"Keep your hands on those controls guys. We got company. This double crossing motherfucker brought the cavalry with him. If they try anything, juice those bitches to level twenty and wait till they start smoking." Max shouted to Wallis and Rocky.

"Get your asses in here Fed Men. Come see what we got for you. Come and see a cock biting bitch burst."

Wallis and Rocky cautiously rounded the corner, guns at the ready and then stared wide eyed at the standoff. Eddie called out to them.

"Don't do anything guys. He'll pull the faucet open and pop the parole chick like a ripe melon. She can't take anymore."

Rocky spoke first.

"Jesus man, how long has she been like that?" The question was directed at Eddie, but Max answered for him.

"Over three hours Cop Man." He cast a gloating look back at Helen who was springing leaks all over the place. The fine jet of pressurised water was escaping her lip seal again and trickles were even beginning to flow from the horrendous double flange clamp-seals gripping her lower orifices.

"Goddammit, the bitch is leaking again. You need topping up bitch?" It wasn't really a question, more of an excuse. In fact Helen had probably only leaked a minute amount. Max yanked the faucet open a crack again and held it for three seconds, adding something like a quarter litre to her already saturated body mass in a prolonged and calculated session of deliberate torture.

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRGGGGGGGG!"

The strapping creaked ominously and her pleading eyes searched out Eddie for help as she was slowly moved closer to bursting point. Then her eyes clamped shut as she searched for the strength to endure. Only the tips of her fingers retained the ability to move and she expressed her torment with clutching movements inside the tight hand section of the powerful arm-sheath. She was way beyond her limits but the crushing bindings she had expanded tightly into were ruthlessly eradicating even the slightest movement. Max and his modified equipment had successfully converted her into a female inflatable without the remotest chance of escape from anything he chose to do. She was a slave to that damned faucet.

Eddie was watching his mind running at high speed as he figured the angles. He caught Wallis' eye and managed to indicate the socket supplying the power unit. Both Wallis and Rocky got the message.

A split second later Eddie whirled around and fired, the muzzle blast of the 9mm deafening them all in the enclosed space.

Water jetted out of the pipe running down the wall, but it was only nicked. 

Max swore, his face etched with a mixture of hate and rabid lust as he yanked the faucet wide open. A second later another 9mm slug smashed the faucet handle away. Eddie was aiming for his hand, but missed.

Image 24

For a second Eddie was distracted by the rapidly escalating sound of Helen's torment.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! 

Despite the nicked pipe, she was absorbing a massive influx of water. The pressure was now so great that her vocal cords were being compressed and the sounds forced out of her were jerky and disjointed. Finally they stopped altogether as even that means of expression was ruthlessly snuffed out. Her body was at the limit and about to burst. He could see the brass pipe connections to her crotch being forced upward between her tightly bound ankles as her sealed lower orifices bulged outward with the rising pressure. Her pussy and ass ring were so distended they were forcing her ass cheeks apart and squeezing her cinched buttocks outward against the taut straps like rising dough. Even the daggering stiletto heels were slowly vanishing into the expanding mounds of her tormented bottom. Only the super tight strapping and compressive rubber was stopping her from exploding outward, and for the first time since this all started, Eddie was glad he had designed her restraints so strongly.

In quick succession, Eddie and the others fired. Two slugs from Wallis and Rocky smashed the power socket in a shower of sparks as Eddie's rapid fire fusillade finished the pipe off and severed it completely.

Water jetted everywhere, but the long drawn out sound of relief from Helen was music to his ears. Water was rushing out of her down the pipes and out through the severed main.

Eddie whirled around and saw a massive look of relief cross her relaxing features. Keeping his gun on Max who was nursing a sprained wrist from the impact of the bullet on the faucet, he cupped her chin and looked her straight in the eyes. "Sorry gal, we fucked up. But cheer up. Now it's PAY BACK TIME!" He was met by a glare that translated as trouble. Somebody was going to pay for her suffering and Eddie figured one of them was a guy called Valenski. On an impulse he decided to leave her bound for a few minutes to let her cool, off. She probably couldn't stand on her own just yet anyway.

He rose and turned to Max, but Max was still smirking.

"And still you're fucked Mr Cop Man. You ain't caught the girls here, and when they hear what went down everyone is gonna know what really happened. Your ass is grass. Now if you let us go, we'll forget your name and the fact that you engineered the whole thing."

It was Eddie's turn to sneer.

"Ya reckon asshole? And who the fuck do you think I had you install on those two elevators? I got news for you shithead. Your brain dead broads are otherwise occupied as sore assed bungee cord winders right now; and by the way, we left them with the elevators parked at the top for the night. They ain't going nowhere with three layers of bungee wrapped around them."

Max's face blanched. His ace card just went up in flames and they were all at the mercy of three really pissed off cops and six super pissed off broads. Their future didn't look good.

A few minutes later the whole bunch were handcuffed, hobbled and jammed in a cupboard. Eddie promised them faithfully that if he heard a sound from any of them, the door was gonna get ventilated with 9mm holes. If they'd known what Eddie and the women had planned for them, they would probably have opted for a fatal lead injection right then.

Wallis Rocky and Eddie turned their attention to the six women, but Eddie pulled them up short.

"Go get the elevator broads you two, and get them over here. We have to have the whole bunch ready by morning or else stage three can't go ahead."

Wallis nodded. He was all for speeding up the rescue of all the other captives that Eddie's alter ego had attached to the PD building. He looked back at the bound women but Eddie reassured him.

"I can manage these chicks, now get your asses over to the precinct building and get those broads or else the whole thing turns into a ball of shit. Pick up Napper's truck from the address on there. It has the shipping containers in it." He handed Rocky a rapidly scribbled sheet of paper and a key. "And bring the stuff I listed there back with you. A lot of it is in a storage shed Napper had supplies stashed in; the key is there. The other stuff you'll have to borrow from the main contractor's storage lock up."

Rocky looked down at his hand.

"You got a key for that?" Eddie cocked and eyebrow at him.

"Since when have you needed a fucking key for anything Rocky. You forget how to do it?"

Rocky grinned.

"No but I'm going straight now. I'm a cop, remember?"

Eddie grinned.

"Get the fuck outta here asshole. Make it quick, no stops at the fucking doughnut shop. We're running out of time and I want these sick perps and their girlfriends to be history by the time we make the big breakthrough in this case.

Wallis and Rocky left. Eddie turned back to the silent, bound women. Realising that the water was still jetting from the busted pipe he turned off a stop valve just above the break. Then he started to unbind them. His first instinct was Helen who had suffered the most, but then, he decided to let her cool a bit more yet. He began by releasing the others one by one. They were exhausted and stiff, and he had to carry each one to the bedrooms and lay them out to rest. Finally, only Helen remained.

Eddie walked over to her and studied her at length. She returned his gaze with a somewhat quizzical look. It was as if she were asking 'now what' You got me alone and I can't do anything, what are you going to do about it? He had to hand it to her, she was one helluva resilient woman.

He'd seen that look many times before in Claudine, but never expected to see it in a woman who was still bound so tight and had been abused so sorely. One would have thought she would be straining and making noises to indicate she wanted out from her bonds.

He sat beside her and pondered his first instinctive reaction. Helen didn't make a sound, although she was capable of expressing her anger or frustration now that the pressure was gone, even if only to make the rudimentary sounds made by a woman well gagged. He knew she was aching and sore, and yet she made no attempt to request release. He put a hand on her and stroked her. Still no response. Just silent acceptance. The big brown eyes just followed him around but conveyed no rejection. The next move was a big one and Eddie was unsure he should make it at all. But then he had always been a risk taker.

He rose and walked slowly over to the faucet and after unclamping the hose that still fed straight into Helen's face and lower orifices, he looked long and hard at her with the pipe in his hand. She held his gaze, her eyes unblinking, no fear, and no accusations, just interest. It was time to move to the next step in this risky charade.

He walked over to a faucet in the nearby kitchen and stopped, again looking back at Helen. She held his gaze steadfastly, almost as if willing him to make the next logical move. Eddie took her up on the challenge and slipped the pipe over the faucet, tightened the hose clamp and turned to look straight into her eyes. 

Helen held his gaze and didn't even blink. There was no indication of panic, fear or indignation, although his intent was clear. Both of them knew that her body was still waterlogged and it would take very little to return her to the agonising status Max had inflicted on her.

His hand moved to the faucet as he watched her, and he perceived an almost tempting look. She was daring him. Dagnabbit, the woman was actually daring him to turn that faucet. He decided to tease her, and walked back over to her bound form. His hands roamed free over her body, kneading, squeezing, stroking, and toying with her. She made no attempt to show a negative response. In fact her breath was almost sighing from her nostrils in a contented sort of way. 

Eddie shook his head out of her line of vision. Women never ceased to amaze him.

Walking back to the faucet, he faced her and turned the tap slowly on. Helen's eyes went to the hose as it twitched and then her throat started to work as the water began to flow back into her. In no time at all she was full and could swallow no more. Her body tissue was still saturated. Eddie turned off the faucet and watched her eyes. She still held his gaze firmly and unblinking. Helen was willing him to take the final step and pressurise her. Eddie obliged. 

In short bursts he began to pump her up. Each burst soliciting a moaning sort of MMMppph! followed by a slow closing of her eyes. It wasn't the same sound Max had extracted from her with his methods, more of a sound of pleasure. She was enjoying the feeling of total power he had over her. Already her cheeks were starting to puff out and her colour was slowly rising to a shade of rosy pink.

He could see her bulbously expanded breasts heaving to the sounds of her breath as it blasted from her nostrils. Step by step Eddie infused her with more water, watching carefully as her colour changed to a deeper shade and her cheeks grew harder and more prominent. At every step she maintained the eye contact, willing him to go further, trusting him to find her limit.

He subjected her to a long slow pressure rise by opening the faucet slowly and keeping it open, all the time feeling her body as it grew harder by the second. Her breath was fast and furious, snorting from flaring nostril as the pressure rose. Her face was already a deep purple and yet her eyes still held his unflinchingly. Water was seeping from the seals of her orifices and yet still she held his gaze as her eyes bulged.

Suddenly her eyes snapped shut, tight and firm. It was the signal she had reached her limit. Eddie closed off the faucet and patted the deeply cinched, rock hard body. Helen couldn't move a fraction. Her eyes snapped open and laboured breath began to explode from her nostrils in great gusts. Eddie was dumbfounded. The woman was going into a massive orgasm. Her entire body was quivering and the eyes seemed about to pop out of her head. How long it went on, Eddie had no idea, but finally the eyes closed dreamily.

He waited a while as she bathed in the glowing aftermath of a unique experience and then spoke softly to her as her eyes opened and fixed him with a thankful gaze.

"I suppose this means you want me to take care of you in the future?" The eyes closed slowly and reopened. It was a yes.

"You realise I already have a wife, don't you?" The eyes studied him somewhat mournfully and then slowly gave a yes indication.

"So if I take you on, can you be a slave to my wife?" The eyes studied him for a while as she thought it over, and then closed slowly.

Eddie considered it all for a second or two, and then decided. He moved back over to the faucet and then spoke to Helen.

"We'd best just make sure you remember that promise then hadn't we?" The eyes looked alarmed as his hand closed on the faucet, and then she complied with her new master's wishes with a slow closure. It was his job to know how much past her current limit he could push her without harm, and she trusted him.

Real bondage was about consensual pushing of boundaries, and at that game Eddie Valenski had proven he was truly a master.

Eddie turned the faucet and watched as Helen went into a solid bug eyed mode that was only a fraction less than Max had subjected her to. As Max had surmised, her pussy lips were swollen and her clit' was like a pencil, but with a different master at the controls, she could actually enjoy the sensations without the mind numbing fear.

He switched the faucet almost off, leaving it at a tiny trickle and indulged in a half hour of patting and petting, then left Helen to her rock hard vigil as he tended the other women. The strange thing was, her face was exhibiting a serene look despite the awesome pressure. The image of that water pressurised female was never far from his mind, and more than once he pondered the minute differences that separated him from men like Max. It was a thin line and yet it was also a gulf measured in light years.

Meantime, the tiny trickle would maintain her at full pressure and compensate for the leaks. Of course he had no idea that the one leak was jetting past her clitoris, massaging the inflamed nodule with sensuous watery fingers. More than once in his absence the creaking rubberised female shuddered and snorted as massive forces of explosive, lustful energy added to her plight. Helen had never experience such mind bending sensations of ultimate pleasure in her entire life. It had never occurred to her that such abuse in the right hands could be so incredibly pleasurable.


CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE-REVENGE IS SO SWEET

Wallis and Rocky made it back in just under two hours. Sweating profusely they dragged in the two women from the elevators into the apartment. Wallis saw that Eddie was just in the process of lifting Helen from her stand and shot a puzzled look at him. She should have been off that stand hours ago according to their reckoning. Eddie read their thoughts and pre-empted the questions.

"I'll explain later. She's fine." Wallis nodded, hesitated a moment as if to ask something then followed Rocky back out to get the rest of the gear Eddie had requisitioned.

Eddie laid Helen on the floor, but she was so stiff and exhausted she could hardly move. Rolling her over gently he made as if to start unzipping the outer of her multiple latex suits, but Helen stopped him.

"No! Don't take them off. I know it sounds crazy but I just―! Well, I like the feeling of them. The compression feels sort of, comforting... Safe... Does that make sense?"

Eddie pulled his hand away and rolled her back.

"To you and a gazillion other chicks out there." He grinned at her. Despite her horrendous introduction to the world of bondage, the woman was a natural. 

"Okay, so you can keep them on, but we'll have to dress you with some street clothes over the top."

Helen smiled.

"That's fine, but first carry me to that goddammed bathroom. I've got what feels like forty gallons of water inside me that has to come out some time." 

Eddie cursed softly to himself for being so stupid. He carefully spread her legs and using a crescent wrench Max had left nearby he began to loosen the flanges of her orifice clamps. Helen groaned as the crimping pressure went off and her abused flesh agonisingly resumed blood flow. Already she was leaking water, and as he pulled out the pipes, the leaks became a gush that solicited a long sigh of relief from Helen.

He caught sight of her face and she flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey woman, I got you in this fix. If you can't hold your water it ain't your fault."

Helen slapped him a stinging blow across the face, then grabbed his head and pulled him down onto her lips. A full minute elapsed as she tongued him out orally. Gasping Eddie sat bolt upright as she let go.

"What the fuck was that all about?"

Helen fixed him in the eye.

"The slap was for fucking up and getting me into that mess in the first place, you fumbling buffoon. The kiss was for demonstrating how good bondage can be in the right hands. I've been struggling with secret fantasies like that all my life and never dared to try and live them out."

A laugh rang out behind them. Rocky had entered just in time to witness Eddie getting the slap. Eddie waved him away and lifted the leaking female.

"Good job these suits have holes in them. It would take me a half hour to peel you out." Helen giggled, and he set her down in the bathroom and left her to her own devices. There was work to be done whilst she drained, and he figured she was going to be draining for a while as her body dumped fluid from saturated tissue. The pressure of the rubber suits would probably speed up the process somewhat.

With the help of the other guys, Eddie readjusted the stands, added pieces and checked hurriedly released strap binders. Finally he was ready. And so were the stands. Five of them were going to get new occupants.

Although they were designed for the female figure, Eddie reckoned they would take males just as easily. Max, Martin and Aaron were about to become three of the new occupants. The remaining two were going to be filled with the forms they were designed for, Joan and Nancy.

It took and hour and a half to install the furiously struggling men one by one, but finally the task was done. Putting on the rubber suits was achieved only under a threat of knee-capping anyone who refused. Max was about to call his bluff until one of the women from the stands whom he had face fucked regularly put in an appearance and offered to take the gun from Eddie.

"Mind if I shoot the motherfucker's balls off first though?" she asked venomously. Max climbed into the suit without further resistance.

With the men safely strapped down, they turned their attention to the two women who were still doubled and cocooned in rubber. Wallis and Rocky hadn't had time to extricate them before bringing them over. Neither woman had any fight left as they were resuited and mounted. The session on the elevator. gear had knocked all the fight out of them. Besides, their butt holes were so sore from spinning without lubrication they could hardly stand.

With all five mounted and ready, Eddie called the Napper's victims back in. They were still exhausted and groggy from their ordeals, but none of them was going to miss the next stage. Helen appeared with a huge wad of tissue jammed in her crotch. Eddie started to laugh.

"Shut your face you grinning ape. I'm still leaking all over the place, I feel like a leaky bucket, but I sure as hell don't want to miss this."

Eddie stifled his urge to crack up laughing at her description and waved a hand towards the prepared stands.

"It's all yours ladies."

The six abused women took their time in inspecting their tormentors. The Joan and Nancy were arranged exactly as Helen had been, pipes and all. The men only differed in that one of the crotch pipes went to long tubes dangling below their horizontal forms. They were in fact copper tubes, hastily manufactured by Eddie from plumbing pipe. Each of the men had their dicks shoved into them after a liberal dose of super glue had been applied. The pipe that Max would normally have stuffed into a woman's pussy was connected to the end. Apart from that only one other detail was different from Helen's agonising arrangement. All the pipes leading into the mounted forms had small valves close to the point where they entered the various orifices. With some relish, Helen also noted that Eddie had taken note of Max's idea for a timer and pressure switch. If the girls felt like taking some time off from their revenge, the new set-up would ensure that all five assholes would get a refill every two minutes and the pressure switch would ensure they were never allowed to go soft and gain relief.

Max was shaking with fear. Martin and Aaron were white as sheets in the small area of skin that was visible around the eyes, and the two girls were mewing pitifully in an attempt to gain mercy.

Helen followed the pipes back to a multi outlet union that was firmly affixed to the faucet that had caused her so much suffering. She looked towards the other women who had suffered the electrical torment, but they all nodded their approval at her being the one to do the honours. They felt that Helen had earned the right. 

Slowly she opened the faucet and watched the pipe flick as it began to fill. The movement at first mesmerised the five on the stands and then in unison they began to struggle frantically.

It availed them nothing. The abused ex Napper victims were watching with gleeful intent. Eddie and Rocky stood with arms folded and totally at case with what was going down, and Wallis was shaking his head in disbelief at the fact that he had allowed himself to get so deeply enmeshed in this vigilante affair. Helen peered into the face of her former tormentor.

"What was it you said Max? Slow and easy? Waterlog the bitch first, make her suffer and then pressurise her? You were right asshole, 'the bitch' can learn new tricks." Clearly she was extracting maximum vengeance from this moment. "Not so fucking brave on the receiving end are you, you piece of dog shit?"

She turned the faucet to a slow trickle and watched as the five objects of her wrath started to swallow. She alone knew the full extent of the mounting torment these bastards were going to endure. The swallowing stage was only mildly exacting. The real fun started after that when there was no more stomach space to fill and all the lower body cavities were full. In fact, her recent personal experience of the reality gave her the edge over Max in technique designed to extract maximum effect. If he thought he was good, he hadn't seen anything yet. She knew every last sensation the fuckhead was going to feel and she could maximise it with her knowledge.

Helen turned to Eddie and the others.

"Go do what you have to do Eddie. Don't worry, I'm an expert at this. I had a good teacher. They'll be ready for you a couple of hours before dawn, and then you can have them."

Eddie eyed her carefully.

"Alive, Helen. Alive, or else you'll fuck the whole thing up and we'll all go down for murder. We don't mind playing judge and jury with these scum bags, but none of us are hanging judges."

Helen faced him squarely.

"Eddie, do you really think I'd let these pieces of shit avoid what you have in mind for them and give them the easy way out? You can bet your last dollar on the fact that we intend to extract the utmost pleasure out of getting them prepared exactly as you want them. Okay?"

Eddie was convinced. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off, abused broad. Suddenly he felt a pang of sorrow for the five bound figures on the stands. But it was a fleeting thing and he got over it real quick. He cast a glance to the red faced row of straining forms and smiled to himself. It was poetic justice at its best.

The three musketeers, as they had begun to call themselves left the helpless assholes to their just deserts. It was time for them all to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, starting with the results of the attentions six very angry women having been heaped on those bound bastards.


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - FIVE FOR KALLAZAR

It was the crack of dawn by the time they returned. Eddie was expecting to find Helen and her five enthusiastic assistants either asleep or exhausted after working all night. He misjudged the female penchant for finding reserves of energy when vengeance was afoot.

Five very sorry looking captives met their gaze, flanked by some very pleased looking antagonists. Unlike Helen, who had been saturated over a short three hour period, the pedestal mounted five had experienced a long six hour session, carefully overseen and modified to exact utmost stress from them and the greatest revenge and satisfaction for the women they had tortured. The women had taken Max's advice and installed an automatic system of pressure switches and timers. It was a system that guaranteed a maintained pressure and timed input whilst the girls took some well earned rest.

All five were a nice shade of deep purple, and absolutely silent. Helen had them all pressurised to the level of vocal cord compression. As Max had surmised when he had Helen on the same stand, the sexual organ, in his a case, a dick, was rock hard and throbbing with pain. Anything in the body that was designed to work with blood pressure suffered the most when the water sought out areas to invade. Only the copper tube was preventing his dick from bursting. His ball sack was no better. It was pumped to capacity, as hard as a baseball and it felt like someone had kicked him in the nuts. The fact that the stand made no provision for external male protrusions didn't help at all. The rock-like ball sack was painfully squashed into his crotch with nowhere to go. As they surveyed the scene, there was the faint click of a valve operating and that ominous stretching sound filled the room. The automatic system had sensed a slight drop in pressure and was busily returning the five to rock-hard status. Helen walked over to Max who was staring straight ahead with bulging eyes, and contemptuously flicked his bloated cheeks with a fingernail. A dull thunk sounded.

Eddie and the others checked them out. True to her word Helen had kept them intact, but only just. One more tweak of that faucet and the whole lot was liable to burst. He had to admit, women really did have a knack for this sort of thing when the mood took them.

"Nice work Helen." It was Rocky and he was patting her butt. Helen shot a glance over at Eddie, and Eddie shrugged and gave her a non judgmental look. It was her ass. He didn't own her or her butt. Besides, he'd noticed that Rocky was taking more than a passing interest in her since the night before. Something unsaid was going on between those two, and Eddie was sure it was more than platonic.

"You becoming a bondage expert all of a sudden Rocky? First the vendo thing and now this." Rocky flushed self-consciously and his mind flashed back to that very enjoyable vendo experience Eddie had caught him at. Helen turned on him.

"Something I'm missing here fellas? What's with the vendos then?" Rocky shuffled his feet uncomfortably and was unable to look her in the eye.

"I'll tell you later." He saw Wallis hiding a smirk behind the hand supposedly gripping his chin in thought.

"You can quit the grinning asshole. You had as big a hard on as I did in that winch room when we stuck those two bitches on the winding gear."

It was Wallis' turn to blush.

"Hey man I'm human too you know. Any red blooded males is going to get feelings like that with two young female butts double and spinning around on a dildo. What do you think I am, a eunuch or something?
"
Eddie was smiling as he listened to the banter. Bondage was either in a person or it wasn't. Both of these guys had deep hidden desires that had been awoken by the events of the past few days. His eyes wandered to Rocky and Helen who had their backs to him and were facing Wallis, and he perceived an answer to the task of taking in another slave that Claudine might really have a problem with. Rocky's hand was still on her butt, but Helen's hand was on top of his, working his hand gently up and down her curvaceous ass.

This was getting real interesting. But right now there was work to be done. Eddie urged them into action.

"Come on you guys. Time to get this lot loaded and away from here before the neighbours wake up. Rocky, can you bring up the containers one at a time on the little furniture moving truck. Wallis, Helen, give me a hand disconnecting and sealing these assholes off ready for shipment.

Rocky relinquished his clutch on the curvaceous orbs of Helen's ass and vanished. Eddie turned back to the pressurised five with relish.

"Well now scum bags. Guess what we're going to do with you." He looked straight at Aaron who had provided him unwittingly with the perfect answer to his dilemma. "Remember Kallazar, Aaron? Reckon we have something we can send them after all."

The eyes of all the men widened with fear, whilst the women merely remained bug-eyed as they tried to cope with the diabolical situation that they themselves had originated in their games with the helpless captives. Clearly Aaron had shared his letter with the men but not the women. Oh well, they'd find out soon enough.

"Yep that's right assholes. We're sending you to Kallazar, where hopefully you'll spend the rest of your lives as whipped, butt fucked, pussy fucked, and face fucked bondage toys for all the weirdoes there. Seeing as we have a spare sixth container, we're even giving them all the gear the girls used to get you all pumped up. I'm pretty sure when you get there the locals are going to want to refill all of you just for the hell of it."

He perceived a minute amount of movement in each form as they tested their bonds yet again. It seemed they were not entirely overjoyed at the idea of a life long vacation on an exotic island full of people like themselves. At least not as the packaged submissives. Eddie looked directly into Aaron's bloated face. 

"Well man, you got your wish. You're going to Kallazar at last."

The clatter of an approaching furniture trolley laden with the first air cargo container sounded in the hallway. Rocky was back. Eddie looked down the line to where Helen and her helpers were working and saw that they had already sealed off and disconnected the first bitch and were working on the second. The small stop valves Eddie had told them to install in all the lines enabled them to close off the pipes and seal each of them before disconnecting. They were going to stay pressurised for the whole trip, and Eddie figured they wouldn't have lost that much water by the time they arrived, only to be pumped up yet again as the island occupants read over his notes and decided to have fun with them before they moved on to new ideas of their own.

Image 25

Wallis and Eddie waited as Rocky swung up the air cargo bin door, and then they slid the entire assembly of the first bitch straight in. Once the pedestal and occupant were positioned, it was a simple matter to secure the entire device and bound woman with the cargo straps. Within a minute the container was closed and addressed, and a few minutes later Rocky was trundling the filled container back to the truck.

Thirty minutes passed, and they were all watching as the last container vanished. The five with live contents had already gone and were sitting silently in a truck. Container six was now full of Eddie's bondage gifts and all of the trashy vicious shit that they had found stored in Napper's lock-up. It seemed Max had been figuring a double cross for some time and had accumulated his own gear. Now he was going to find out what it was like to be on the other end of all that pain producing stuff.

With a last look round the apartment, the men prepared to leave.

"Great job ladies. Now stay here until we complete the next stage. Napper is still out there and we don't know where." The guys sort of looked elsewhere as Eddie continued to develop the smoke screen covering Napper 2's real identity. 

"Helen, take my spare gat and shoot anything that tries to come through that door without giving the password 'Kallazar'." Helen grinned and took the offered Walther .380. It was sort of ironic that he chose the name of the island as a password. She still wasn't quite sure why they had to remain out of sight at this time, but she was sure the guys had a good reason.


CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - END GAME

It was 9am.

"You wanna hear the good news or the bad news first Cap'?"

The Captain scrutinised the three sat in front of him as he decided. Eddie, Rocky and Wallis were giving nothing away in their faces.

"Stop fucking around Valenski. Tell me some good news; I need to hear something good. My hide is in tatters with the ass chewing going on with this case." Eddie cleared his throat, looked to his cohorts for support, but found none. Both were avoiding his eyes and thereby any part of the task of informing the Captain about this monumental public relations disaster.

"The good news is, we cracked the case. We know where the chicks are stashed and they're all okay."

The Captain's chair crashed backwards as he sprang to his feet, his face glowing with excitement.

God-fucking-dammit! I knew you'd come through Eddie. Fuck! That is good news."

Eddie stayed stone-faced, refusing to be drawn into the Captain's excitement. 

"Sit Down Cap. You don't wanna be standing up when you hear the bad news." 

The Captain calmed down and his eyes narrowed as he studied Eddie's face. 

"Okay, spill it Valenski. What monumental fuck up did finding them cost us?" 

Again Eddie cleared his throat.

"The bad news is that Napper and the twisted perps helping him got away." He waited for that to sink in, and saw the Captain's face relax.

"Is that all? Well we can keep following up on that. We'll nail the bastards eventually. The main thing is we got the women back safe and sound. So where are they?"

The three men facing him shuffled their feet, Rocky decided to try and extricate a splinter in his finger at that precise moment, and Wallis suddenly saw something of immense interest outside the window. That left Eddie eye-locked with a suddenly very nervous Captain.

"Er! Well actually Cap, they're right here at the Oklahoma PD."

The Captain looked confused.

"You found them and brought them here. They're free?"

Eddie shifted position in the chair as if to gain some extra support for his body.

"Well not exactly. Well yes, they're right here, but not exactly free! If you see what I mean."

The Captain's face was colouring up.

"Spit it out Valenski. Stop fucking with me or else I'll bust you down to beat cop so fast your head will spin."

Eddie saw that there was no easy way out of this.

"Well you see Cap', Napper built them into the building during reconstruction. They're sort of part of the Oklahoma PD. We just have to dig them out of the concrete and stuff, but we've got them and they're okay," he added sheepishly, his voice tailing off as he ran out of calming words to say.

The Captain sat with a look of shock frozen on his face. His mouth worked a couple of times but nothing came out except a strangled croak. He finally managed to speak without having a heart attack. At first his voice was low and very controlled.

"The Napper built the women into our police station?" His voice started to rise. "Our nice new refurbished fucking police station that cost the tax payer a few million bucks. --?

"Right under your fucking noses?

"That nice shiny fucking new police station that I've now got to inform the mayor I'm going to rip down again - - ?"

The Captain was a light shade of purple as he rose, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared out of the window with his back to them. Finally he turned around.

"Valenski, this is going to be the biggest public relations fuck up since Prime Minister Chamberlain walked back into UK with a bit of paper from Hitler saying 'peace in our fucking time'. That was just before the Nazis bombed the shit out of England in case you forgot!

"Holy Shit! Heads are going to roll, and you brain dead motherfuckers are going to be first in line for the public guillotine."

As if suddenly remembering that thirty-seven women were still set in solid concrete and whatever other diabolical devices the Napper had used, the Cap' got back to the more important issue. He slumped into his chair and barked a command at them.

"Get your asses out of here and get busy organising the fucking rescue, you clowns. Keep me informed, and get the medics here in droves. Those chicks are gonna need care." As they rose to leave, Eddie saw the Cap reach out for a fresh candy bar and knowing the Cap's liking for prodigious amounts of candy when he was nervous or angry, he raised his hand as if to say something.

"What now?" The Captain fired at him. Eddie paused and lowered his hand. 

"Oh! Nothing Cap', I was just going to say those things are bad for you." 

The half eaten chocolate bar hit him squarely between the eyes. Wallis and Rocky turned quickly and hid their grins. If only the Cap' knew what that candy bar had cost two women installed in the vendo machines. But maybe this wasn't the time to tell him. He'd find out soon enough when he read their reports. 

The next two days were a hive of activity as the Oklahoma PD started to give up its secrets to teams of hard working gangs with lifting gear and rock drills. Already the magnificent entrance steps had been ripped up and the concrete steps encasing women had been sent to a special unit for chipping out. It was hot work inside the building; the air-conditioning plant was already shut down as four women encased inside steel tanks that normally held coolant were removed. Ducting was being ripped out all over the place and bound, gagged women held firm and silent by various means were released from their secret prisons. Only two elevators were working. The third public elevator was giving up two very sore, very relieved ladies who had probably endured the most active usage. The one from the winding gear would probably be endowed with red, bungee winding marks for some time. Both of them were walking with a strange bow-legged gait as they were assisted to the waiting Paramedics vehicles. Not surprising after the non-stop abuse of their pussies, Margaret in spin-fuck mode and Natasha's forcible jamming down onto dildos by an elevator car. The cane marks were another matter.

The Captain almost choked when two women were extricated from the vendo machines and his mind went back to the many times he'd fed quarters into those devices. The female they dug out from under his new roll top desk just about caused a real heart attack. Since commissioning he'd actually been using that desk with one of the kidnapped women only two feet below his ass. Every time his weight had thumped down on the chair a radio control device had set in motion a mechanical fucking machine. The Captain figured that he'd been responsible for fucking her brains out at least 20 times a day.

Eddie's office service shaft revealed two more inverted females, one with her face positioned right behind a one-way mirror on the wall. Only inches from anyone using that mirror was the hidden face watching and desperately hoping to be seen. Only later when they dismantled the women did the technicians discover that every phone call coming in on those desk lines were also zapping the bound chicks with a 75 volt ring tone going straight to their dual purpose service dildos.

Finally, only three remained. The rescue crews had cleared away all the rest and were studying the three main support columns at the front entrance. The problem was that the impressive, huge ornamental portal above had been added after the installation of the columns. Now with Acrow jacks supporting that 15 ton monolith, they were going to attempt to ease the columns out from underneath and leave the roof intact.

The encased women were probably aware that something was going on. In the last two days the food being force fed to them by the canteen garbage disposal unit had changed from vast quantities of mixed emulsified junk to carefully measured high energy supplements and just enough water to ensure that dehydration was kept at bay.

Eddie and his two co-detectives, Wallis and Rocky, were nervous. The one fly in the ointment of the whole Valenski cover-up was in that centre column. A really pissed off Dominatrix who could blow the whole doppelganger scam. Claudine and Cassidy were considered a 'no risk' bet. They would understand and go along with it, glad to be free and safe.

The ponderous columns were lifted out one by one and laid on a low loader. Eddie's Terminator followed behind as it pulled away and carried his chick and the other women to the facility that was specialising in carefully chipping out the various concrete entombed females. Wallis and Rocky were jammed in the back. They collected Helen from the apartment. Rocky, it seemed, had taken it upon himself to trust her with the truth. As it turned out, she had pretty much put it together herself. Eddie Valenski and Napper had a tiny identical scar on the back of their hands. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they were one and the same person.

Image 26

Even without knowing the full facts she had decided to hold back on her knowledge until she found out the truth. Whatever Eddie Valenski was, he was her rescuer as well, and he had opened a new door in her life by showing her what bondage could be with the right person. Now, knowing the whole story, she figured she might just be able to help with the problem dominatrix. It needed a woman's touch. Cassidy and Claudine were probably not going to be up to the task of consoling and reasoning with the irate woman so soon after being released from a horrendous ordeal inside the columns.

In the back Wallis and Rocky were silent. All three of the men were being made the sacrificial lambs. They were summoned to appear at a tribunal where incompetence and negligence would be the charges leveled at all of them. The Captain, despite his earlier explosion, had come out on their side. But the politicians wanted blood.

After a long discussion with the powers that be, the Cap' had managed to get them to agree to a plea bargain. Incompetence in exchange for all three badges. Eddie, Wallis and Rocky were out of the law enforcement business. In a way, all three of them felt it was a mixed blessing. For the first time in their careers, all three felt that the way they had dealt with the assholes was true justice.

The Terminator swung into the contractor's yard. The stop to pick up Helen had put them twenty minutes behind the low loader. Already the three columns were unloaded and inside the sounds of jack hammers and the more precise hand held disk cutters filled the air. The experts reckoned three hours to get the heads of the women uncovered, and then a long six hour slog chipping out the rest of them. All three columns had been x-rayed, and the exact height to clear the top of each head was known. A huge amount of time was being slashed off the recovery period by sawing straight through an inch above each head.

Helen and the three men watched as amorphous, the ball-like heads of each woman slowly appeared from the truncated columns that stood silently on the workshop floor. It was a painstaking process. Precise slots had to be cut vertically at the side of each head without touching the female core. Then hydraulic splitters were slipped into the slots and pumped up. One by one the concrete lumps surrounding the heads cracked under mounting pressure and the halves were lifted away. It took another five or six minutes to liberate the heads from their acrylic cocooning.

It was a surreal sight to see three sealed heads poking out of the stiffening columns of concrete.

Eddie stepped in as the teams started to release the rubber hoods and tubing that had been their lifelines.

"Sorry guys, we need you all out of here for a half hour or so." The rescue teams looked at him oddly. Wallis stepped up and flashed his FBI. credentials, probably for the last time before he lost them forever.

"Government security. These women probably have information that is a matter of national security. We have to debrief them now before you guys get the rest off. As soon as we are sure they understand they're under the official secrets act you can come back in and finish."

That did the trick. The teams pulled out and left them with the three heads. Although the columns had been mixed from their original positions, it was easy to see which one was the Dominatrix. One of the heads was making angry muffled noises and waggling back and forth as the woman fought against the embrace of three tons of unbreakable concrete that still formed her immovable base. Eddie felt his dick getting hard. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't kill the image of an angry woman in the perfectly controlled plight that lent her to usage as a cock sucking male toy. The term 'giving head' really came over strongly as a result of the absurd overkill image of a head poking out of that solid mass. 

Ignoring the wagging head, they unsheathed Claudine and Cassidy. Both were deathly pale after being so incarcerated for such a long time, but otherwise none the worse for wear. In fact, the constant mechanised arousal they had endured probably kept their muscles trim as they writhed against their immovable concrete tombs with unstoppable orgasmic energy.

It took fifteen minutes for the girls to adjust their eyes to the light, and listen to Eddie's explanation, backed up by Helen and the other guys. Claudine had already figured something along those lines, and basically she was relieved to see her man back to normal. Cassidy was still fuming and making dire threats to castrate Eddie, but there was no real vehemence in her tone. She was going to go along with the ploy to save Eddie from prison. That just left Claudine's Dominatrix friend, the head that was still going berserk with side-to-side activity.

Reluctantly Eddie faced up to the inevitable and started to peel her covering off. It proved difficult as she was jerking her head around so fiercely. But with Rocky's help he finally managed it and slid the hood off to reveal a face scarlet with exertion, wide eyed, with nostrils flaring as she dragged in huge gulps of air. A few moments later the gigantic, jaw busting oral gag was out of her mouth.

She worked her jaw frantically to regain use and a few unintelligible words came out. He heard Wallis mutter something.

"Boy is she pissed at you Eddie."

The woman seemed so incensed she was gasping as she tried to speak. Finally she managed it.

"Ull the ug out." They all look nonplussed. She tried again between gasps.

"Pull the fucking plug out! Disconnect me. Turn the fucking thing off!"

Her words turned into a strangled shuddering and her eyes closed. The head lolled back and her nostrils flared widely. Suddenly Eddie got it. The rescue teams had mistakenly reconnected a dangling plug in the maze of extension leads that belonged to the her built in connections. When the column had been lifted clear of the building her umbilical plugs had pulled apart. Reconnection had fired up all her orifice connections without the normal controlled rise designed to wind her up slowly to orgasm at timed intervals. In addition all the nipple tinglers and various other stimulation devices were running unchecked. She was being driven crazy by never-ending unceasing orgasmic reactions to the input. 

The others standing around watched with amazement as Eddie began tearing at leads and yanking apart anything with a connection in it. Suddenly Helen stayed his hand and then walked over to the bobbing head.

She reached up and caressed the face of the Dominatrix.

"Hi Heather. Are you having fun in there? If I let Eddie unplug you, are you going to be a good girl and listen?"

"Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh! Herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" Another orgasm ripped into her before she could answer.

"Yes, yes, anything you say, switch me off for God's sake. 

"Huhhh!

"Huhhh!

"Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh!

"Oh! No! Not again!

"Huhhh!

"Huhhh! Huhhh!

"Huhhh! Huhhh!

"Herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

"Hettittittit!"

Wallis stepped forward with the correct plug in his hand, held it front of her face and pulled it apart as her last episode waned.

Heather looked straight at him through bloodshot eyes.

"Thanks! Whoever you are."

The group allowed her to catch her breath, and then laid the whole thing out for her. Heather's initial barbed looks in Eddie's direction started to soften. Finally the explanation came to an end and they waited with baited breath for her reply as she pondered some inner conflict. Finally she looked straight at Eddie. 

"Valenski, if it takes the rest of my days I'm going to get even with you for this." Eddie's heart sank as she continued.

"All my life I've been a top, a dominatrix. I knew my calling and felt comfortable with it. And now this. You asshole. Now I'm completely fucked up. My mind is fucked up. What you did scrambled my fucking brain. I've just experienced six days of the most excruciatingly pleasant fucking orgasms I ever had in my life. Even that fucking food packer stuffing me with crud turned me on. And then there was all that hardware winding me up on an hourly basis. Fuck you man, how can I be a convincing Dom ever again.

I'm gonna-! Ummmmmmmmmmmmph!"

A look of total shock spread over her face as Wallis jammed the plug back into her mouth and strapped it back in. He turned to the others to find an equal look of shock on every face in the room. Wallis shrugged.

"If you can't beat them, join them! Rocky isn't the only one who found a new game on this case. As you probably already figured, I was getting the same vibes from all these bound women. But it looks like Rocky finally found the woman for him. He looked over to where Helen and Rocky stood side by side, their arms around each other's backs. Eddie repossessed his woman. That leaves me, and -!" He turned back to Heather, "and a woman I know more about than she does herself, who has been in and out of relationships all her life because she never- found the guy who could handle her, and is at this moment between relationships, if my FBI files are correct. I reckon Heather and her new found interest in life should take another course, and just maybe I'm the one to be the skipper." He locked eyes with Heather who was looking over his trim, fit, athletic physique. She liked the twinkle in his eyes, and the way he'd stuffed that gag back in had turned her knees to jelly. A few long seconds ticked by in silence and then slowly she nodded her head. Provisionally Wallis was on probation.

Wallis turned and looked directly at Eddie and Rocky.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking guys?" Eddie and Rocky exchanged glances and then looked at Helen. A wide grin spread over her face.

"Great idea. I'll go tell the guys outside that this interrogation is gonna take a while. I'll be back. I want to watch this."

Three heads watched her go, and then turned to face three men approaching them with determined looks on their faces; two with gags and hoods in their hands, and one who was collecting up all the umbilicals from the three truncated columns and dragging the plugs over towards a socket splitter with more than enough points to connect.

"Oh! No. You wouldn't dare, Valenski, you wouldn't fucking Ummmmmmmmph!" Cassidy's mouth was suddenly full of gag, and shortly thereafter, Claudine, who was showing extreme serenity, opened her mouth willingly and allowed the return of her silencer. Heather on the other hand, was making waffled sounds that could be interpreted either way.

Ten minutes later, three amorphous mmmphing hooded spheres topped the cut columns. Eddie spoke to Rocky.

"Plug 'em in Rocky, Helen's just coming back. You two may as well see what is in store for you both for the next thirty years or so.

Helen arrived, and without any bidding from the men, slipped out of her street clothes to reveal the triple latex suits she was still wearing.

"May as well get in the mood guys. The rescue team said they might as well go get some lunch while you do the interrogation. They seem okay with the fact that the ladies are out of danger and their heads are free." The men nodded approval as Eddie continued.

"That gives us a half hour at least. Let's see what we can do with these nicely packaged lust creatures, shall we?" He looked at Helen. "Sorry gal, no ready mix concrete around for you."

She smiled and suggestively rubbed her sleek, rubber-sheathed crotch.

"I can wait. I'll make my own fun for now. I'm sure my turn will come. Won't it, Rocky?" Rocky gave her a sidelong look. Sure as hell will, babe." With that he flipped the switch controlling the multi-socket outlet.

A chorus on low moans and deep breathing echoed around the place as the plugs powered up hidden devices and inside five minutes three heads were frenziedly animated as the first of many orgasmic events erupted inside the inescapable columns.

Eddie turned his back on the columns of vibrating womanhood and spoke to his new partners in crime.

"You guys ever thought of going into the private detective business?"


The End
