The Shattered House
By Stargraves


Chapter 1

THE CENTREFOLD ABDUCTIONS

The oppressive morning heat caused the back of his neck to stick to” his
starched grey shirt. Running a finger around his collar to ease the
discomfort, Damien Lucas steered his unmarked Ford through traffic while
the Motorola crackled into life on the dashboard. An all points
bulletin: be on the look out for registration... “Blah, blah, fucking,
blah,” Damien finished. He disconnected it and turned on the radio. A
drum and bass rhythm kicked in, and he angrily jabbed through the
stations for something slightly less vapid. He swerved in front of a
flashy BMW and laughed as the driver gave him a blast on the horn. He
could see a raised fist in his rear view mirror, so he returned the
gesture with a short screech from his police siren. Immediately the BMW
slowed and gave him space. Damien spotted a bunch of people loitering on
the sidewalk who were blatantly dealing crack, ready to run at the first
sign of a black and white. When he realised he was in the centre lane he
cursed aloud, “fucking creeps! If I didn’t have to be somewhere, I’d cut
across and shoot you dumb Latino muthafuckers in your goddamned faces.”
It was one of the perks of being a cop.
The light showed red and he slowed. Some old bearded guy in an army
surplus uniform with cut off sleeves approached his stopped car with
bucket and sponge in his clawed, unwashed hands. Damien flashed his
badge and an extended middle finger. The old guy limped back to the
sidewalk, keeping his curses at a subdued level.
He looked at his watch. It was dead on three. The hourly news bulletin
began. He put the car into gear and drove through the city toward the
shimmering heat of the hazy horizon.
“This is DTK news on the hour every hour, your guide to the days main
stories.” A different announcer took over, as if the breathless delivery
was too intense to sustain for more than a sentence each. “And Police
are still baffled at the disappearance of the famous topless twins Kerri
and Shandi Tate.” “They were seen two days ago at the premiere of the
new Brad Baldwin movie, Timid Obsession, but were reported to have left
the first night party before eleven that evening.” “The twins, famous
for their explicit centrefolds and stunning good looks, were reported
missing yesterday and so far the police have come up with no new leads.”
Damien turned off the radio and flicked on the CD player. “Detroit Rock
City” built to a crescendo as he drove.
“Police have no leads, my ass,” he muttered as he drummed hi: fingers on
the steering wheel and turned off the main freeway into an alley leading
to a dusty track toward the docks. Ahead of him, on the outskirts
of the city, a hive of rundown warehouses loomed like canyons on either
side of him. Their corrugated iron facades were streaked with grime and
the shattered, fogged windows gaped like milky green teeth in hollow
mouths. He drove past the unused loading bays of the countless deserted
buildings, a testament to the changing face of industry in the new
millennium.

*****

She screamed as the man’s grimy fingers grabbed her long blonde hair _
and dragged her across the littered floor. Her exposed silicon enhanced
breasts swung almost comically, as she tried to writhe away from his.
grasp, but the man was too strong. He looked as if he was in his late
twenties and his thick, greasy hair hung over his pockmarked face.
The smell of his rancid stale clothes made her gag in disgust. Then the
man threw her to the floor. Her knees scraped over the bare planks: and
came away grimy with dust and spoor.
The blindfold had slipped during the struggle and it hung loosely from
her brow. She caught her first glimpse of the surroundings. The
brightness stung her eyes and she had to blink a few times before she
could take in even the slightest view. She saw a vast warehouse loft,
seemingly deserted for some time, most of the windows missing and the
entire place seemed to fester with a miasma of sweltering filth. The
afternoon heat enhanced the very repugnance of the place, placing an
unfair emphasis on the smell and magnifying the heavy dust particles
they'd disturbed, as they clouded the air.
She tried to call for help through the oily rag that had been stuffed
into her mouth. The rag had been secured in place by her stockings,
wrapped tightly around her face, but the sound her voice was diffuse.
The man’s heavy boots thundered across the floorboards as he dragged her
struggling form, leaving a cloud of angry dust swirling in their
wake. She was thrown onto a soiled mattress and her skin crawled on
contact with the material. A body pressed against hers and she struggled
to see who lay next to her on the slick surface, but the lengths of rope
that bound her had restricted her movement so that she could merely
squirm. A number of knotted cords kept her hands behind her back | and a
length was tightly bound around her elbows, and then threaded down to
the ropes twisted around her ankles.
She could barely move her limbs at all. Struggling like an eel, she
writhed using her head and her heels for leverage until she found her
self looking into the face of her own sister. Her sister’s blindfold
was. still securely tied and she could see the grimy trails where her
mascara had washed down her face by the tears. The pockmarked man
laughed at her. Kerri turned and again screamed at him through the gag,
her voice hoarse and full of venom. She tried to turn her body away from
his lascivious gaze, trying to hide the swell of her huge breasts, but
succeeded only in thrusting her buttocks towards him. They were
delicious orbs, perfect in every curve and detail, the product of years"
of aerobic butt-thrusting exercise.
He stood over both the two wriggling girls, picking idly at a scratch on
his temple. They were the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his"
life and they were totally at his mercy. How many men out there would
have paid millions for just this exact opportunity!
Rick Jenkins was practically a virgin. The last time he’d had sex was
almost three years ago and even then it was with a hooker. Now he had
the two playthings of the year at his disposal. They were securely bound
and literally at his feet. His erection pounded in his trousers as_ he
watched their sweat-glossed, perfectly tanned bodies coil in’ discomfort
on his bed. He had made sure that the ropes were very tight. He had even
chaffed his own thumb tying them. The girls’ soft skin looked angry and
red where the thick fibre had bitten deep, but it was well worth the
slight marking to see them so deliciously vulnerable. He knelt before
them and with slow deliberate gestures, began to
unbuckle his belt. Kerri, the one who had tried to crawl away and had
nudged her blindfold half-down, was screaming terribly. She would give
herself a sore throat before long. The other, Shandi, was becoming
agitated by her sister’s cries and she too began to wriggle on the
mattress—the very mattress on which he’d masturbated himself senseless
for the past three years almost every night since losing his job at the
burger joint.
He watched with a pulsing erection, their thighs part, and heels kicking
out, as the two captives fought to push themselves away from him. He
caught tantalising glimpses of the soft pink folds of their labia
beneath the perfectly shaved tufts of pubic hair.
He had seen them on television before. Their wide smiles, their blonde
curls and the expensive dresses. The absolute superiority they exuded
without any justification. They were beautiful women, yes, but
artificial and plastic too. They had presented themselves as sexual
icons, objects of desire, and yes, even outright lust. Well he was their
audience now. He had pulled himself off at their centre-spreads and now
they were getting the exact treatment they inspired in their readership
and in their fans. There was no way they could refuse his advances now.
He had them in the flesh; their flash make-up and glitter had gone and
their fancy designer clothes had been removed. There were no lighting
effects or elaborate sets to flatter them and they hadn’t brushed their
teeth in days. Despite their surgical enhancements and their inflated
reputations, they were real women. Hot flesh and blood. They pissed
themselves with fear, they had stale breath, and snot came from their
noses when they cried.
“It made the situation all the more deliciously real,” Rick thought.
Stripped of their artificial comforts the two natural blondes were still
good-looking young women!
Rick let the leather belt slap loudly across Kerri’s thighs. She
whimpered and rolled off the mattress and her quivering buttocks was
exposed to him. He slapped the reddened cheeks with the palms of his
hands and knelt over her, clamping his thighs over hers, and pushing his
crotch against the cleft of her cheeks. She bucked beneath him, pushing
her pelvis this way and that to try and dislodge him but he simply rode
her for his own amusement. He reached inside his pants and freed his
throbbing member. “Christ,” he thought to himself as it pulsed hotly in
his grasp, “I’ve never been so fucking hard in his whole life!” The
delicious ass of one of the world’s most famous and beautiful women
trembled before him and without the need for flattery or invitation, he
pushed his glans into the folds of her labia, between their entwined
legs, feeling her warmth and smelling the hot wetness of her sex.
Kerri’s arms worked frantically against the ropes and Rick could see her
fingers flexing and clenching as she tried to struggle free. It was no
good though; Rick was an expert and he tied them perfectly. As a
youngster, he had worked on the docks, and knew at least a dozen
different knots, specifically ones that made the stricture become
increasingly tighter when one side was pulled. Both girls’ wrists were
becoming intensely red, threatening to bleed at any moment and the pain
made both of them gradually and reluctantly cease to fight their bonds.
As Kerri’s ankles were tied too, her thighs were clamped quite tightly
together. She strained, unable to break free or even wriggle away as
his weight pinned her down. With horror, Kerri could feel the bulbous *
head of his throbbing penis first separate her labia as he stroked it
along the length of her slick, wet cleft, then slowly push into her. The
vaginal muscle involuntarily closed over the head and swallowed the full
length of his shaft, as he pressed his cock into her. He felt the swell
of her buttocks touching his belly, as his penis entered her to the hilt.
Kerri as he slid his cock inside her. The outrage of the assault made
her cheeks burn with shame and fury, and yet there was no way in which
she could fight his advance. Rick closed his eyes and enjoyed
each languorous thrust. He had almost cum the instant he felt her hot
insides engulf his erection, but he had delayed his second thrust for a
while until the urge had subsided. The third thrust also threatened to
spill his seed inside her, but he was beginning to gain control of his
over-excited cock, a trick that the whore had taught him. “Just stop
moving if you are about to shoot too soon,” the whore advised, “and
think of something else.” The alphabet backward or anything, just
something tangible enough to divert the mind until the urge to spurt
could be managed and brought under control.
It was a simple enough strategy and, with some degree of annoyance, he
had discovered that practically every male over thirteen had mastered
the technique!
The fabulous realisation of fucking inside one of the most celebrated
glamour models gave him a dizzying sense of power. He had so enjoyed
breaking into their house and drugging them the night before. When he
had first stripped them, he had masturbated over their prone sleeping
forms and splattered his juices over their magnificent breasts. His
fingers were frantically squirming, feeling and working away, inside
their slippery clefts as he came, and afterwards, his tongue tasted and
savoured the expensive taste of their juices. They had been under his
watchful care for the better part of two days and they had regained
consciousness some three hours earlier. He knew he wasn’t meant to touch
them up too much, but the temptation was just too great.
And besides, this was the best job he’d ever had and if he couldn’t
celebrate such a massive cash windfall in the company of the most
beautiful models in the world at that moment, then when could he! After
all, he was earning thousands of dollars for this!


*****

‘Damien steered into a warehouse and drove between alleys of empty
rusting containers. He came to a halt at a wire mesh gate and got out.
The engine gurgled idly as he used a key on a padlock to open the
sliding gate. He returned to the car and drove it onto the elevator
platform. A glance at his watch told him that he was over two hours
late. Still, it was better to be sure that nobody could have followed
him. He depressed the control stud and the clanking elevator rose to the
loft. The thick metal cables were dull with rust, and flakes of peeling
paint had fallen from the walls like scabrous, rotting skin. The smell
of bird and rodent excrement mingled with the musty, dank aroma of the
abandoned warehouse. It forced Damien to wrinkle his nose in disgust,
but he had more important things on his mind than appreciating the
aesthetics of the warehouse.

*****

Rick ground himself against the quivering buttocks of the hog-tied girl,
the firm mounds pressing hard against his abdomen. She tried to struggle
but that only increased the depth of each of his increasingly desperate
thrusts. He remembered his thoughts when he first saw them both naked.
He had slowly removed their outer garments while they were both drugged
and had caressed their perfect bodies for several hours. He had then,
with breathless anticipation, removed their brassieres with tender care.
It was impressive, he thought to himself, the way that there was no sign
of a tan line at all, across every square inch of their perfect velvet
skin, which was uniformly a rich bronze. His wildest fantasies had
played through his mind as he exposed their perfectly rounded breasts
and licked at their vulnerable nipples. He nuzzled against their flesh
whilst sitting astride them. He was only marginally disappointed that
their nipples refused to stiffen beneath his tongue. He explained to
himself it was because of their unconscious rejection of his advances,
but his addled brain did not realise it was a side effect of the
tranquillising drugs. He’d resolved to rape them
shortly afterwards.
The power that he had over the two unconscious beautiful women was like
nothing he had ever experienced before, and he had felt giddy with
nervous elation. He had peeled off their panties with slow deliberation,
pressing his face into the soft material and breathing their innermost
scents. He actually had both pairs in his pocket now as he rode astride
the sobbing one.
He didn’t know if it was Kerri or Shandi that he was shafting, and
frankly, he didn’t care. He closed his eyes as he felt the girl’s juices
baste his engorged member with each slippery wet thrust. The slick
liquid noises as he pumped in and out seemed to blot out every other
sound in the world. He could feel his own fluid rising with an impending
urgency, and he knew that this time he would let it loose.
He ground harder into her, forcing the girl against the floor, which was
inches thick with dust. She knew that he was about to come and she began
to scream. The fluid pulsed along his shaft and at the last minute he
held it for as long as he could. But with an almighty thrust, he
squirted it deep inside her. Rick felt the head of his penis explode. He
gasped loudly, sending a cloud of scurrying motes into the air. He
pumped his pelvis again and again into her, bucking like an animal on
her back to prolong the orgasm as it crashed through him with wave upon
wave of undiluted pleasure. Finally, the storm subsided, and with his
heart pounding, he slumped breathlessly forward onto her back to catch
his breath.
Kerri, who, as it turned out he was fucking, silently wept beneath the
boy. She had felt the slimy, hot liquid splash inside of her as he came,
and it broke her spirit. She had no recollection of how she came to be
hog-tied and in this foul warehouse loft. She could vaguely hear her
sister crying too, and it was apparent that she had heard Aer being
raped, but could do nothing but lie there blindly beside her, with the
terrible fear that it may be her own turn next. Then she heard something
else, something getting steadily closer. It sounded like a machine or
“some sort of clanking noise. It was getting louder and also raising in
pitch. It was an elevator! She felt the youth withdraw from her with a
sound reminiscent of a wine bottle uncorked, and struggled to his feet.
The blindfold was pulled back into place over her eyes and pulled tight.
He gripped her roughly under the arms and hauled her back onto the
mattress. She felt her sister pressing against her in a mute attempt at
reassurance. The familiar body contact warmed her and she wept with
emotion and rolled against Shandi to return the touching gesture.
Rick tightened his belt, ensuring that he was as presentable as welfare
could afford, and smoothed his hair. This was it! He had finished just
in time. He felt a little nervous though as he watched the elevator from
across the opposite end of the warehouse loft hove into view. It wasn’t
every day you were given $25,000 dollars in cash for a dream job. The
metal shutters of the elevator rolled up and the figure walked casually
towards him. “Hi,” Rick said, waving at the newcomer. “I got ‘em alright
didn’t I? I did real good! No one suspects me at all!” “You did great
kid.” Damien smiled.
Damien leaned forward, slightly sickened by the conditions in which they
were being kept. The hog-tying job that Rick had done on the girls was
quite an exceptional piece of work, but Damien hadn’t actually wanted
them to be naked when he got there. Still, it was as much as he’d
expected from the little shit. He’d probably fucked ‘em both too. With a
rough hand he spread their legs. The first one’s pussy was pink and dry.
It was a little shrivelled looking too, but obviously they hadn’t had
food or water in a couple of days and he doubted that Rick had anything
that could get them excited.
The second one, though, looked reddened and a milky trickle of liquid
dribbled from her cleft as he spread the whimpering girl’s thighs.
Damien asked, “get a little familiar with ‘em, eh?”
“Well, just that once, man,” Rick shrugged, “Hey that won’t affect the
money will it? I mean, you’re not gonna welsh on the deal and try and
give me only half, eh?” “No,” Damien smiled. “You’ll get exactly what’s
coming to you.” “Where’s the money then? In the car?”
Damien examined the girls further, ignoring his question at first. Apart
from the rope marks they seemed to be in perfect condition. He hadn’t
hit them or marked them in any way. He had to admit, somewhat grudgingly
though, that the creep had done a good job in acquiring the merchandise.
Damien had picked him because he knew he was a sharp housebreaker, and
that he was damned untraceable. He was also such an anonymous small-time
criminal, that nobody on the planet could possibly trace him back to the
girls.
Most of all though, he had picked him b e he was expendable.
Damien pulled the .45 automatic from his underarm holster and turned to
face Rick. There was a brief jostle of conflicting expressions, which
flickered briefly across his face; a look of surprise and
miscomprehension, then finally fear, in the instant before Damien pulled
the trigger.
The heavy shells punched through the youth’s chest and shattered the
loft windows a hundred yards behind him. His body was flung backwards
and tumbled awkwardly over itself in a spray of blood and tiny gleaming
shards of shattered breastbone. The dead meat of the man came to rest
well before the echoes of the four shots had ceased.
Outside, an eruption of birds, startled by the sudden violence of
gunshots, exploded into flight and spread across the sky. The sound of
their wings beat out a frantic tattoo of confused fluttering.
The twins recoiled on the mattress in terror at the explosions of sound.
The unseen new arrival was infinitely more intimidating than the youth.
He was deadly and they had no idea of his motivation. Wetting themselves
in fright as they heard his footsteps approach, they screamed as he
grabbed them and dragged them by their hair from the mattress. One at a
time they were thrown over his shoulder and taken to the
elevator. “Quit struggling!” He snarled. “I’m a cop!”
The sounds of distress from the two bound girls became sounds of
confusion. They whimpered at him, confused that he hadn’t tried to
loosen their brutal rope bonds.
Damien removed a syringe from a container in his glove compartment and
gave them both a shot of powerful tranquilliser. The twins went slack
and he opened the trunk of his car. Inside were two body bags. He pulled
the sacks over the girls and zipped them up part way to allow enough
space for them to breathe. He hefted them into the trunk and shut the lid.
“Nearly done,” he thought. Damien turned and strolled back up to where
Rick lay. The shells had torn effortlessly through him, leaving
moderately sized exit wounds. He checked for a pulse, the wellpractised 
action merely a formality as Damien had seen enough fucking
corpses to last him a lifetime. The slack body was as dead as the gaping
bullet holes would suggest. He rifled the pockets to remove any
identification and found the purloined knickers. He laughed aloud at the
futility. To think that this useless cunt’s last action on God’s Earth
was to stuff a couple of pairs of girl’s wet knickers in his pocket,
just to be able to sniff later. He shook his head in abject contempt and
spat in Rick’s unflinching glazed eyes. “You deserved that you scum
sucking - bag of shit!” Abject society itself, that random amorphous
organism that convulsed in it’s billions about the surface of this crazy
planet, still had many laws that had not been proscribed by mere mortal
man! The laws of gravity! The persistence of time itself! And perhaps
the most obvious of them all: street bums did not get to fuck centrefolds!
Damien returned to the mattress where the helpless twins had lain. It
was in an area of the warehouse that could only be described as “Rick’s
corner.” A jumble of bags, a few stolen radios, and assorted electrical
goods had been spread haphazardly across the floorboards. As he
walked he was careful not to leave a footprint in the sticky pools from
tipped beer cans and glistening patches of God-only-knew-what, which
decorated the bare floorboards of the loft. He even made extra efforts
to tip toe in between the long splashes of lumpy red viscera that had
been splashed across the room with the impact of his bullets.
Everything Rick owned looked like it was stolen and jumbled into a
cardboard box, before being tipped out and re-assembled there, in this
stinking rat infested shit house. He found the twins’ clothing quickly
enough though, hidden amongst the piles of Rick’s filthy belongings, and
headed for the elevator, ensuring that he’d retrieved the evidence of
his visit. Somebody would find the rotting body eventually, but there
would be nothing to even hint at what had actually happened. In fact,
the guys back at the precinct would probably be glad he was dead; it
meant one less scumbag to contend with. As the elevator descended, he
took a last cursory glance around the area before. It made him sick how
people could live in such squalor.


Chapter 2

THE RECNITING OF FRIENDS

Alannis Hall passed a smouldering cannabis joint to Marc Spinoza. A
momentary glint of light reflected from her nose stud as the 22-yearold 
leaned forward. He took a drag and blew a sream of blue smoke.
“Good shit!” He said.
“Of course it’s good shit, asshole. I grew it myself. I’m not majoring
in chemistry for laughs ya know!” She smiled and ruffled his hair. ”
They had been dating since high school and now go to the same college.
Marc was majoring in Physical Education. He was an archetypal jock at
first appearance. He was seemingly the exact opposite of Alannis, who
dressed primarily in black, had a number of piercings, wore heavy eye
make up, and drew murmurs of disapproval from tutors at her extreme
appearance. He wondered what the fuss was about since they’d seen far
worse on talk shows ry day! Marc had more in common with her than with
his clean-cut all-American friends. He was on the football team, wore
the tracksuits, and training shoes of the college gym hounds, 
yet he was heavily into gore movies, horror books, and the
Florida Death Metal scene.
They spent hours together staying up late watching whole series of
horror films. The previous night they had watched John Carpenter’s
Halloween, and then somebody else’s Halloween 2. Then they had made love
for a while amidst the heady pall of cannabis smoke. Afterward, they
picked up the plot of the movies, watching parts four, five and six,
back to back, into the late hours eschewing the latest release for a few
hours of sleepy, lazy sex in her gothic four-poster bed.
Alannis clambered gracelessly over the bulky mattress in the back of the
van. Her ass thrusted toward Marc as she parted the black velvet
curtains that screened off the back of the van from the front, and she
peered outside. They were parked on the edge of the campus and could see
the main quadrangle as it was bathed in the steamy afternoon sunshine.
It was a lazy, hazy summer day and they had seen most of the students
sunbathing on the grounds, littering the parched green grass with coke
cans and candy wrappers instead of going to lectures. Marc and Alannis
had only arrived at two that afternoon. They studiously avoided all
studious responsibilities, and opted to spend the rest of the day in the
artificial darkness of the van while an old Pink Floyd CD meandered
quietly on an ambient bluesy journey.
Alannis leaned back, allowing the curtains to close behind her. She sat
down cross-legged on the large mattress laid out in the back of the van,
and breathed in the marijuana smoke that hung in the air around them.
Marc slouched back onto the spread cushions and returned the half-toked
spliff to his girlfriend.
“Thanks!” She took the reefer from him; her slender pale arm was almost
ghostlike in the darkness, her bangles tinkling together as she moved.
He noticed her black lipstick had left a dark and somehow tantalisingly
sexual smudge around the tip of the joint. She sucked on the roach end
and he watched her cheeks draw. When her mouth
withdrew, her deliciously full lips pouted as she retained the last of
the smoke. He was became hard watching her glistening lips manipulate
the joint, half imagining their delicious touch around his own length.
Marc shifted his position as his erection grew down one leg of his
pants. She saw the bulge in his trousers and smiled slowly, the smoke
curling from the corner of her mouth. Alannis leaned over and stroked
his erection through the material of his trousers.
“Hey, we can’t yet, the others will be here soon,” he protested weakly
as the tender caress caused his heart rate to rapidly increase.
They were waiting for their friends Tony Milano and Leanne Keene to join
them. They were going to spend the balmy Friday evening together,
getting high and goofing off. Alannis had other, more immediate ideas,
though, as the pot always made her feel languorous and slightly horny.
She smoothed her short black plastic dress around herself feeling the
slightly sticky material pulling on her silky skin. She allowed her left
hand to trace along the glinting material as it hugged her breasts. Her
own fingers lingered for a moment on her hardening nipples, coaxing them
between thumb and forefinger until they forced against the constriction
of the shiny material. Her eyes met Marc’s in a silent challenge,
defying him to resist her manipulations. Beneath the dress, she wore
only a pair of crisp, cotton knickers. It was too warm for a bra and
besides, it only got in the way when it came to stripping!
‘She sat back on her heels, crumpling a couple of empty beer cans, and
hooked her fingers around the thin shoulder straps of her slinky black
‘dress. Marc could feel his reticence dissolving with each movement of
his girlfriend’s exquisite body. She gyrated slowly to the soft swaying
music in the background and with a sly and knowing smirk she leaned
forward and pulled the dress down exposing her large breasts, destroying
his resistance, She pulled the material tightly under them and squeezed
the fleshy orbs together between her elbows, taunting him to arousal,
daring him even, to touch them. 
Marc felt a renewed urgency pounding through his member, and despite the
fear of getting caught by his friends, he could resist her temptations
no longer. The moment was simply too hot to waste! He scrambled up from
his slouched position and onto his knees, rocking the van slightly as
his weight shifted, and pulled her slender waist towards him. She held
him away for a moment, teasingly delaying the moment of contact, while
she took a final drag on the joint. Then she carefully extinguished the
tip and placed it to one side before returning his passion. She deftly
unzipped his jeans and slid her hand inside, feeling the warmth of his
crotch. Marc gasped in pleasure as he felt her slender fingers encircle
his throbbing cock and gently free it from his trousers.
Alannis knelt forward and her shoulder length dark hair cascaded around
her face as she rested her elbows on the mattress before him. Marc
spread his knees and pulled his jeans down lower to allow her better
access to his pounding, exposed cock. He could see her raised behind—the
skirt had ridden up—and the thin gusset of her white panties was exposed
deliciously.
With one hand holding her hair out of the way, the other guided Marc’s
pulsing member towards her own mouth. She could see the head swelling
and glistening in the darkness of the van and heard him gasp as she ran
her tongue along his shaft before enclosing her mouth fully around it.
Her lips squeezed the head as she sucked. He closed his eyes as the warm
moistness of her mouth engulfed his member and her head began to slowly
bob up and down. 
Marc was addicted to Alannis’ blowjobs. The girl was an expert. She’d
had her tongue pierced a month ago, and at first he’d been a little
reluctant to go near her. It was all the rage with her Goth friends, but
he’d never really been into that scene. Tattoos, piercings, body
painting; it hadn’t caught his imagination, and in fact, he was quite
squeamish. Until, that is, she had gone down on him. The hard metal stud
at the centre of her soft tongue had been expertly used to describe
patterns over the head of his cock as it pounded inside her mouth. The
sensation given by the stud had taken him by complete surprise and he initially
came in her mouth almost immediately. Since then, of course, he’s |
managed to control himself better, and whenever Alannis had wanted a
favour, she would roll out her tongue. Then he was blackmailed to’ do
her will within a matter of seconds. He didn’t mind though, as his
reward never came too long afterwards!
He placed his hands on her back as she sucked him. He pressed her
slightly down toward the hot shaft of his cock as she knelt low before
him, her head bobbing between his thighs. He allowed his fingers to
caress the small of her back, tracing circles toward the base of her
spine, peeling her skirt higher and slipping deftly under the elastic of
her panties.
Alannis moaned as she felt his thick fingers pressing between her
buttocks and stroking delicately about her cleft. She felt him leaning
over her and his tee shirt tickling her back as she leaned under him.
She closed her eyes as she slurped the length of his rigid phallus, and
 enjoyed the feel of his gently probing fingers as they slid between
her legs. It was quite distracting for her, and she was losing the
rhythm that she’d so far maintained on his cock. It was awkward enough
trying to suck him off in the cramped confines of the van, kneeling down
on the lumpy mattress without being able to fully stretch out. But the
task was made even more complicated when he began to slip his thick,
probing fingers inside of her. He deftly parted the slippery lips and
delved deep into her tight, fleshy hole. 
During their past couplings, in the two years they’d been fully intimate
| with each other, she had never quite got the hang of doing a “69”.
She'd put it down to the simple fact that, as her own intimate pleasure
areas were so unbearably sensitive, she always found herself being
distracted by the reciprocal nature of the position. She’d suck him, |
he'd lick her, and that would be that! She couldn’t help but simply
drift away on the waves of thrilling sensations that his tongue expertly
described across her genitals, and thus diverted, she would ultimately
neglect to move her own mouth over his throbbing cock! She would get so
carried away with her own pleasure as to stop licking the lad’s cock
altogether, and finally come in sharp gasps, pressing the coarse hair of
her pussy onto Marc’s bemused face. He often ended up lying bored
beneath her, his penis slowly becoming flaccid, as she sprawled on top
of him and basking in her afterglow as the love juice from her pussy
dribbled onto his chin.
Just this once Alannis tried especially hard to ignore his probing
digits as they pressed against the elastic inner walls of her vagina to
stimulate her g-spot. She concentrated on giving him some quality head.
She licked the circumference of his glans, and covered every inch of the
shaft with her hot, wet mouth. She flicked at the head with her tongue
stud, eliciting small gasps of pleasure from him. Alannis held the
throbbing cock firmly at its root, and began to jerk it slowly back and
forth in her fist. At the same time, she slid his penis as deep into her
mouth as she could and sucked slowly along it’s entirety, letting the
ball of her tongue stud roll along the full length of the throbbing
penis’ sensitive underside. She let the hot member slip out of her mouth
as she reached the purple tip each time, before going down on it again,
right to the root with her mouth open wide, with renewed vigour. She
heard the deep gasps of pleasure from her lover and knew it wouldn't be
long before he came. She maintained the rhythm, breathing through her
nose as she engulfed his cock. Her lips, curled over her own teeth to
avoid scraping, left dark streaks of lipstick along the veined length— a
visual testament to her efforts.
Alannis felt his fingers working frantically across her clitoris and she
rolled her hips to match the stroking digits to increase the pleasure of
her own friction. A finger slipped inside her tight elastic hole, and
Alannis felt her labia begin to twitch involuntarily at the beginnings
of an orgasm. “Damn,” she thought for a fraction of a second, “I’m going
to come before my boyfriend!”
She closed her eyes in submission to the involuntary clitoral
convulsions, as she felt it suddenly crash over her. Gasping, she let
the thick cock slip out of her mouth, trailing saliva. Then she slumped,
totally spent, onto the mattress. Her right hand reached behind her to
keep Marc’s fingers pressed into her hot crotch. Her buttocks clenched
rhythmically as the orgasm finally subsided, leaving her deflated and
smiling dreamily up at him.
“I don’t believe it! You’ve come first again.” Marc smiled.
“So what? Women are supposed to get something out of sex too ya know!”
“I know, but you started to suck me off first! I didn’t know you were
going to have a hair trigger! This whole thing was your idea.” He
reached over her prone form and picked the up joint to re-light it.
“What a rip off! I always get to finish last! /fat all, for fuck’s sakes!”
“Well, big guy, why don’t you just fuck me now while I lie here,”
Alannis said. She took the smouldering joint from him and drew a deep
toke into her lungs, her bared breasts swelling invitingly upwards. “I'm
really wet.”
Marc wiped his hand, slick with her cum, on the mattress. “But what
about the others, I mean they’re really gonna be here any minute?” He
said glancing towards the rear doors of the van.
“For starters, they can’t see in through the back windows, and the front
curtains are closed. They won’t see us in here at all.” Alannis smiled,
spreading her legs and exposing her entrance to him, moist and slightly
reddened with arousal. “So what are you waiting for?”
Marc sighed with resignation, but not quite with enough conviction to
lend weight to his protest, and pulled his trousers down further,
kicking off his shoes. She was a horny bitch all right! He gazed at her,
as she lay below him, knees apart, with the neatly shaved tuft of pubic
hair above the clitoris darkly inviting. Her soft pale skin was ivory
white in the curtained darkness. He lay over her and with his right hand
guided his shaft into her. There was a brief sucking noise as his cock
plunged into her wetness. Alannis’ vagina tightened her around him,
warmly welcoming the tumescent length as it pumped and stretched her.
She gasped, as he filled her slavering cunt, savouring each contour of
his penis. It went deeper and deeper with each thrust. Mare closed his
eyes and drifted on waves of hot, wet pleasure, as his hands reached
under her, gripping the flesh of her buttocks and pulling her into him
for deeper penetration.

*****

Leanne closed the door behind her and walked from the shade of the
building and into the sunlight. Momentarily dazzled, she held a hand up
to her face to shade her eyes before she saw Tony standing opposite the
Chemistry department doors, leaning casually against a low wall with his
arms crossed. He wasn’t looking in her direction so she hurried
gleefully across to surprise him. Leanne was nearly a half an hour late
for their meeting. Her lecture had overrun and she dared not miss any
notes this close to her finals. As she drew near though, she could see
what it was that Tony was surreptitiously peering at over his shoulder.
A few yards away from him, lying face down and sunbathing on the grass,
were a couple of fresher girls. One had pulled her short skirt up quite
high to tan the backs of her thighs, and from the tilted angle of Tony’s
head, Leanne could see that he was getting a look at a little more pink
flesh than the girl had intended to expose.
Leanne came to a halt next to him, her hands firmly on her hips. From
there, she could see up the girl’s skirt and easily make out the cheeks
of her ass and the thin gusset of her black g-string.
Tony hadn’t noticed her standing next to him so Leanne cleared her
throat with a short cough.
“Oh hi!” Tony turned to her smiling as if nothing had happened. “What kept you?”
“Never mind that, what do you think you’re doing, you creep.” She raised
her voice. “Peeping up girls’ skirts?”
“What?” he protested his innocence, but the two girls looked over their
shoulders and after aiming a few curses in his direction, stood up,
brushing grass from their knees and straightening their skirts before
they stormed away to find a more private place to relax.
“Qh that!” Tony laughed. “Well, I haven’t had it in so long, you can
understand how I might get distracted.” He pointed to his crotch. “It’s
not my fault, this little guy’s doing all my thinking for me these days,
I tell you! I’ve no control over my actions! Where have you been, anyway?”
“I’m just late,” Leanne tried to be mad at Tony, but his cheeky smile
extinguished her annoyance and she couldn’t feel jealous of a couple of
new girls. She was very attractive and knew it. “You might like to
wrestle control of your mind back from your cock before long. I’ve just
been to powder my nose and my period’s definitely finished.” She saw his
eyebrow raise. “So you won’t have to look up girls’ skirts for your
kicks anymore!”
Despite his size, Tony was a little squeamish, and every month he made
himself scarce when she was on the rag. He hugged her to him and they
enjoyed a warm kiss. Then he stooped to gather her bag, laden with
thick, serious-looking books.
“Let’s go meet the others, they'll be wondering where the fuck we’ve got
to!”
The couple linked arms and strolled across the campus towards the
parking lot. Tony was a tall guy. He was not quite as muscular as Marc,
but more ofa field athlete than a football player. Also, in contrast to
Alannis’ dark, mysteriously attractive looks, Leanne was a popular
blonde cheerleader—the target of quite a number of admirers. She was far
from available though, as she had fallen for Tony in a big way. His
boyish cheekiness and innocent smile melted her heart.
As they neared the van they could see it rocking slightly. Tony realised
instantly what was happening and immediately broke into a run, slapping
his hands on the sides of the van and laughingly rapping his - knuckles
on the one way glass of the rear doors.
The van immediately ceased it’s rhythmic creaking. After a few moments
of waiting—longer than they would have normally expected—_ the doors
opened. Marc finally appeared. He looked less pleased to
see them than usual, but tried to hide any signs that he’d been fucking.
He had a sheen of sweat on his brow and he spoke with an exaggerated
air of normality.
“Hi guys, what kept you?”
 “Oh we’re just running a little late,” Tony
smiled, draping an arm over Leanne’s shoulder.
“We didn’t interrupt anything did we?” Leanne smirked and flicked her
long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“No,” Marc said with too much emphasis. “I—er, we...”
“Forget it, hotshot, I saw the van moving. You two were at it again!”
Tony laughed. “Jeez, you’re like a pair of rabbits. If I had it half as
often, I swear I’d wear my cock out!”
“Hey, shut your face and get in the back, “ Alannis appeared over Marc’s
shoulder, considerably more composed than her boyfriend as she adjusted
her black dress and moved back to make space for the newcomers. “Oh,”
she added as their friends climbed into the van. “Watch out for the wet
patch though, ha ha!”

*****

Her senses swam into focus for a moment as she surfaced from a
disoriented sleep. She didn’t quite know where she was. Her mouth was
stretched wide, her cheek muscles sore with the constant straining
of the jaw. Tentatively she tried to swallow to ease the aching dryness
of her throat, but found that her mouth was stuffed with a thick, bulky
wad of material, slightly damp with her own saliva. She couldn’t move
her tongue as it was trapped against the floor of her mouth by the
tightly stuffed fabric. Confused and disoriented, the girl tried to
reach up to her mouth to remove the gag, but somehow couldn’t control
her arms. She opened her eyes, the panic growing inside her. She could
see nothing but an awful darkness. As she struggled to move and sit
herself upright, the events of the previous few days came flooding back
to her and Shandi Tate began to scream with fear despite the muffling gag.
Her screams were mirrored by her sister’s voice, which was also raised
in terror at waking to find her in the same situation. The two tried
desperately to huddle against each other for base, tactile reassurance.
The last thing she remembered was hearing her kidnapper shot down and a
policeman’s voice. Surely they should have been freed by now? They would
have been taken to the nearest Police precinct or even hospital to check
their condition. But why hadn’t their gags or blinders been removed?
Maybe he wasn’t really a cop like he’d said. They had no idea where they
were. The ropes that the youth had hog-tied them with were still intact,
and worse still, remained unbelievably tight around them as their limbs
ached for release. a
The twins were freezing cold, hungry, and still zipped inside the sweaty
body bags. They’d lost all track of what day it was and both had cried
themselves to sleep a number of times during the long hours of their
incarceration. Shandi could smell a musty cold odour of dampness, as if
they were near a source of water, or maybe in a damp cellar. She
strained to dislodge her blindfold but the material was frustratingly
tight around her head, cutting painfully across the bridge of her nose.
She had no way of judging accurately where they were being held. She
didn’t even know why they’d been singled out for such attention. They
had no enemies, and they hadn’t done anything in their lives to hurt
anyone! So they had both turned down a lot of dates from pestering
guys and obsessed fans, but they had to for the sake of their careers.
They were never cruel to them in their deflecting tactics, and they
always sent the smitten guys personally signed and dedicated photos as
consolation. Often shots that were commercially unavailable, with toys
to give them a real buzz!
Perhaps a crazed fan had taken their status as sex kittens just a little
too far. Even to the extent of setting up a kidnapping and then
pretending to be a cop! Shandi trembled with fear at the thought of what
a madman could do to them: especially someone capable of gunning down
another in cold blood.
For what seemed an eternity they lay in the darkness, occasionally
wriggling or squirming to attempt to escape their bonds. In the
distance, they heard intermittent dripping of water. After a period of
time that could have lasted minutes, or even days, they heard a heavy
tread approaching. It was clumsy, even dragging, but at the same time,
terrifyingly insistent and definitely drawing near. They heard the creak
of a wooden door opening. The hinges groaned a deep protest as the heavy
portal swung wide. A waft of cold air penetrated the half-open body bags
that sheathed the women and they whimpered in fear.
A dark figure stood over the girls, impassively surveying them from
beneath a heavy black hood. He went to the first girl and unzipped the
bag. With strong, gloved hands he hauled the girl to her feet and half
dragged her into the next room.
Shandi felt herself transported, her legs occasionally scraping over a
freezing cold floor. It might have been stone, but she couldn’t imagine
anywhere that had a bare stone floor in this day and age. Her skin
prickled with Goosebumps and her nipples became solid turrets as the
freezing air wafted over her. The captor seemed to breathe heavily as he
carried her, as if there was something over his mouth. She tried to
speak to him by mewling through the gag, but he ignored her. Finally,
she felt herself lifted onto a bare wooden table and the strong hands
untied her gag and removed the wadding. She lay on her side with her
arms and legs tied agonisingly behind her. A glass of water was placed
to her lips and she coughed a few times before managing a few mouthfuls
that eased her aching throat. The glass was taken away and she expected
the rest of her bonds to be removed. Her throat was so sore, but she
managed to croak feebly.
“Hello,” she asked, “are you still there? Thank you for removing the
gag! Phew, I could hardly breathe back there! Are you a cop, too?” She
forced a laugh. “I was practically suffocating just before you came
along! I mean...thank God you released us in time!” Shandi had seen
enough hijack movies to know that she shouldn’t kick up a fuss so soon,
and thus tried to play along with it as best she could. “What the hell!”
She thought, “I am an actress after all! I’ve starred in a major
Hollywood picture, and...” She swelled with what resembled pride. “..,
Without a full week of acting lessons behind me, I must be really good,”
she thought to herself. Shandi heard movement, and felt a gentle hand
brush her hair from her face, but still the heavy-breathing stranger
remained silent. She began to feel afraid again. Shandi had at first
thought that the visitor was benevolent, but his prolonged silence and
the hoarseness of his breath were beginning to disturb her. She was
vulnerable and naked before him. Deprived of sight, she imagined vaguely
the terrible prison in which she was trapped. A primal terror began to
overwhelm the captive and her naked body trembled slightly, her massive
silicon breasts quivering in sympathy with her fearful arse- cheeks.
“What do you want with me?” She asked, on the verge of tears. He feigned
a professional attitude.
A hand supported her chin and a warm sponge began to wash some of the
sweat and grime from her face. She was startled by the gentleness
afforded her and began to sob. “Thank you so much, but please, could you
untie me?”
The cloth was withdrawn and she felt the biting rope that had connected
her ankles to her wrists being loosened and undone. She stretched out
her legs; her feet still tied together, and flexed her arms, which were
also still joined by the ropes knotted at each wrist. She began to sit
up, but a firm hand held her down on the table.
The dark figure lifted her legs and she felt something being placed
around her bound ankles. It was cold metal of some kind. And what was
that sound: the rasping clink of chains? She whimpered but felt a
reassuring hand on her brow. The leg cuff snapped shut about her ankle
and she heard the metal zing of a knife leaving a sheath. She screamed
in fear but a moment later felt the blade slicing through the knots that
had so severely bound her feet together. She was confused, why was he
untying her and not yet undoing her blindfold? The same metallic click
snapped shut around her other ankle and she found that her feet were
held firm as she lay, slightly twisted, on her side. The ropes that
bound her legs together were pulled in opposing directions and wrapped
about each shin attaching her leg flat to the hard wooden surface of the
table.
Her arms were next. The blade sliced through the terrible. Her limbs,
when initially released, were too weak to protest as she felt them being
stretched out above her head onto the table. The rope, although cut in
half and no longer keeping both arms together, still encircled each
wrist. The loose ends were hauled tightly above her head and tied
securely to a cogged wheel higher than the table, above her head. As the
first steel cuff closed over her left wrist, she realised that she was
actually in the process of being chained to the table spread-eagled, and
she fought in vain to try and free her right hand. The second cuff
snapped closed and she was held firm. Shandi sobbed softly into the
filthy wet material of the blindfold as she felt the remaining,
unnecessary scraps of rope, being pulled from her body in lengths. But
it was no relief to be untied when the alternative was being chained to
this huge, angled wooden table.
After a few minutes she felt the warm s reapplied to her aching: body.
She savoured the hot water washing over her bruised breasts
and rope-scarred waist. The scent of the soap was a welcoming
distraction from the rancid dankness of the air. She welcomed the
attention at first, as her naked form was dabbed clean. Then with
growing apprehension, her fear returned as she realised that, in
particular, attention was being paid to her soapy breasts and the
vulnerable area between her legs. She struggled, slightly whimpering, as
the cloth rubbed insistently over the exposed vagina and the hot water
trickled freely between her thighs. The bathing continued for a while,
the dark figure returning again and again with buckets of warm water to
lather on the soap.
She wanted to ask this stranger so many things. Why was he helping her
kidnapper? Why did he not free her completely? Where was the cop that
took them from the warehouse? But her voice died in her throat as she
felt the strong fingers tugging at the blindfold.
She felt a mixture of fear and anticipation. She could finally see where
she was being held and the terror of the unknown was revealed. It was
enough to paralyse her as the material was untied from about her eyes.
The blindfold fell from her face and she blinked at the sudden invasion
of light. From her position, lying on her back, attached to what
appeared to be a wooden table, she could see ancient timber buttresses
forming a gothic ceiling high above her from which hung bare rows of
flickering florescent light strips. The walls were made of stone and ran
with green trails of unidentifiable moisture. It was some kind of
cellar! The interior dripped with filth and age-old rot. The glistening
stone walls were alive with swarms of algae and the ceiling above was
draped with a shroud of dusty cobwebs. Around the room were strange
pieces of what looked like replica medieval furniture, but as Shandi
looked, she could see that the various wooden chairs and apparatus were
adorned with chains and leather straps. She was in a kind of torture
room. A dungeon! Several of the larger pieces looked as if they had been
designed to contain two people at once! Her and Kerri! |
Shandi shook her head in horror. As she tried to rise, she saw that it
was no ordinary table that she lay on. Wheels were mounted either side
of her feet and wrists. Lengths of chain hung from side mounted
brackets. The entire thing was tilted slightly, her feet aiming toward
the floor. It was some sort of crude wooden machine with levers and
handles. She turned to the figure standing to one side with a question
caught in her throat.
The query went unasked as she saw the face of the man that stood before
her, glistening and pulsating beneath the harsh electric light. She
began screaming and didn’t know in herself if she would ever be able to
stop. The thing approached and began to thread rope through some steel
hoops on the frame either side of her shins. The rope was knotted
tightly to prevent her from moving her legs. She strained inst the
stricture as she continued screaming. The horror of seeing her captor
lent her renewed strength, but despite the frantic heaving, which caused
her to arch her back away from the wooden beams of the frame, she was
held tightly in position. In the next room on the floor of the cellar,
Kerri heard the screams and also began to weep herself, begging for
their torture to end. The truth was that the torture had yet to begin.

*****

Professor David Kernaghan rubbed his eyes and began to stack the sheaf
of essay papers and reports neatly into his battered brown briefcase.
Before he left the empty lecture hall he stopped to admire the room.
Thick beams of afternoon sunlight angled across the tiered rows of empty
seats. He thought for a moment too, as if to ruminate on the decades of
collected knowledge that had been imparted to the students here, as if
the very wood of the ceiling beams, the floor, even the benches, had
been enriched by the echoing voices of countless professors before him.
He closed the door behind him and walked
toward his private offices. Kernaghan liked the lecture halls. They were
mature rooms to him, rooms that held a fascination. Anything steeped
with history or repute attracted him. Rooms in old libraries, museum
store rooms, places heady with the mustiness of age.
He unlocked the door to his office and went inside. His private quarters
were very much like the rooms he had seen at Oxford University in
England when he had toured Europe in his youth, except for the Pentium
III on his desk. Wood panelled walls with shelving to the ceiling, piled
high with thickly bound books. Some crumbled with age, the text
impossible to decipher, but he kept them anyway, if only for effect.
On closer inspection, the average browser would find some startling
titles. A mint condition original of De Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom, a
moulding early print of Aleister Crowley’s Magick in Theory and Practice.
Kernaghan was not a tall man, typically academic in appearance, with
slightly receding hair and myopic circular lens spectacles. But there
was something strong about him, an inner sureness that gave him an air
of striking confidence and mature good looks. He possessed a square jaw
and piercingly intense eyes that ensured people really listened when he
spoke. He had the air ofa film star. He strolled about the campus on
sunny days with a brash confidence, as if the entire world was watching.
It had even transpired on occasions that some of the young girls had
developed quite a crush on him without quite knowing why. They found
themselves unable to look away from him when he made eye contact during
a lecture. They would begin to think impure thoughts, almost as if he
was implanting those lewd images into their minds with the power of his
piercing eyes.
On more than one occasion he’d taken twenty-somethings to his rooms and
indulged himself with their lithe youthfulness, their unlined perfect
skin and their enthusiastic vitality. In fact he’d done it so often, it
was tantamount to a hobby!
Kernaghan gazed from the windows of his room and saw birds, splashed
with sunlight, gliding over the rooftops of the campus. Inside he was
filled with a growing excitement. He had left her here early this
morning, and given three lectures with the knowledge of her position in
the back of his mind. He poured himself a small scotch and unlocked the
closet door.
Hanging from a large hook screwed into the ceiling of the small closet,
a naked young girl rocked silently back and forth between the shelves
stacked high with household cleaning products, tools and dusty loose
leaf files. Her body was criss-crossed with thin nylon climbing rope,
drawn tightly around her. It dug deeply into her flesh, forcing the
delicate skin into tautly bunched ridges. Her arms were folded and tied,
crossed under her breasts, the wrists bound tightly with a rope that
passed behind her back as if she were wearing a straight-jacket.
Her legs were bound tightly at the knees to prevent her from bending
them, and at her ankles a two-foot long spreader bar ensured that her
soft thighs were separated wide enough to expose the delicate pink folds
of her vagina. Before he’d left this morning, he’d pushed a large, black
rubber, phallus into her. It was at least ten inches long and four
inches thick and heavily ridged. It had taken a few minutes to push it
all the way in, despite him lubricating the bulbous head. He’d had to
work it in gradually, allowing the glistening, stretched hole to swallow
it an inch at a time. The girl’s own fluid gradually added to the
slipperiness as she felt the huge monster fill her with proportions
she’d never imagined possible.
A tight fitting leather mask covered her head. The eyeholes were zipped
closed, and a large rubber gag with a thick mouth plug kept her silent.
Small holes in the mask around her nostrils afforded her breathing
space. Kernaghan stretched out a hand and stroked it across one of her
bulging breasts, lingering his attention to the tumescent nipple. The
girl jerked away reflexively from his grasp and swung back and forth,
hanging like the cocooned prey of a predatory insect. She must have
fallen asleep, the professor mused, as he ran his hands over the soft
skin of the girl. She writhed at each caress and he heard her breath
snorting through the uncovered nostrils.
His fingers trailed down her belly and described a circle around her
crisp pubic hair. He could see the skin of her arms pucker at the
tickling sensations and her buttocks clenched together. He stopped
tickling her, and with an extended index finger, began to stroke the
skin around her vagina, feeling her slick, moist juices on the thick
black dildo. Her breathing became slow and deep. Her body responded to
the intense clitoral stimulation. He could feel the heat of her crotch
as she began to grind against his hand, and her entire form seemed to
tremble slightly as it hung, and Kernaghan knew that the girl was
experiencing pleasure beyond the extremes of her wildest fears.
The professor had singled her out of a class weeks ago. She had warmed
to him immediately and found him strangely attractive, in a sort of
distinguished way. His great intellect and formidable knowledge
fascinated her and when he'd asked her to join him for a coffee she had
felt a mixture of excitement and awe. Her name was Trudy Brown and she
had just turned 21. Her sexual history had been somewhat limited. She
had let a few of her boyfriends go all the way with her, but they had
been fumbling affairs in the backs of cars or nervously snatched chances
in parents’ double beds. She had never experienced a full orgasm with
them and when the tutor had placed his hand on her knee so casually
during that first coffee, she had a mixture of feelings. She was
initially startled by the sheer affront; hadn’t he heard of sexual
equality? He couldn’t just go touching women these days. It was
harassment and it was such a personal invasion. But before she could
really comprehend what was going on, he had met her eyes with his. The
fingers of his hand had stroked deliberately across her inner thigh, as
moved to pick up his coffee cup. She had felt a wave of sensations at
his touch and then became fascinated by the tingling warmth where his
hand had lain. The intensity of his eyes as he gazed at her, sent a
shiver through her; he had seemingly looked into her very being and
explored her inner mind. Trudy had completely forgotten what they had
been talking about during the entire afternoon and soon found herself in
his bed experiencing the most intense orgasm of her life under his
experienced manipulation. He made her flesh come alive, betraying her
own inhibitions and leaving her a quivering orgasmic sexual animal.
The next morning she had surprised herself by not feeling guilty at all.
Instead, she felt liberated by this greying lecturer. The skirts that
she chose to wear to college became shorter and more revealing by the
day. She had flaunted her reanimated sexuality around the campus,
enjoying her liberation thoroughly. Six guys already, had their advances
refused in the past two weeks. She was submitting only to David
Kernaghan, a real man. On their second night he’d tied her wrists with
her own pantyhose and, despite the initial fear of relinquishing her
freedom, she had let herself be taken by him and utterly used. She had
never in her life been so fulfilled. Since then, each time had been
different, more intense and dangerously exciting. The bondage element
coming to the forefront gradually, until this morning when he had bound
her completely. She hung waiting for his touch with a trembled
excitement. But it never came. She'd felt frustration and discomfort for
hours, her body ached and her mind wandered. She’d been scared for a
while, hanging blindly in the darkness. The massive phallus inside her
felt monstrously ugly and invasive at first, but after a while, she
could contract her vagina around it’s girth and feel it moving, slippery
and hot. She had made herself come a couple of times, before drifting
off to sleep intermittently. Waking every now and then, she yearned for
his touch, only to be disappointed.
Until now.
She was being expertly manipulated, each stroke of the professor’s touch
like an explosion of pleasure. She felt the dildo being moved around
inside her. He pulled it out a few inches and pushed it in again,
pumping her with its massive thickness. Her pussy, stretched and wet,
slurped along its length and she was wracked with a combination of
pleasure and pain as the bulbous head bored into her.
Kernaghan unzipped his trousers and released his pounding cock. In the
confines of the small closet, he could just about squeeze past the
pendulous figure and fit behind her, leaning his back against the rear
wall of the closet. He had hung her at a specific height so as to make
full use of her prone form. He held her buttocks apart with one hand and
with his other guided his enlarged cock, nuzzling it against her tight
sphincter. She writhed at the intimacy of the invasion.
Kernaghan felt the tight ring of muscle slowly begin to give as he
pressed his penis into her. Once the head of his organ had been enclosed
between her cheeks, he reached an arm around her front and pressed her
dangling form back against him, further impaling the young woman. The
lubricant from her sopping vagina had been smeared liberally around her
crotch by his caressing fingers, which aided his deep penetration. With
his back braced firmly against the rear wall of the closet, he could
pull her back onto his rod with ease, their bodies closely cramped
together. She arched her back slightly as she hung from the shining
steel hook, almost like a fish struggling on a line. She felt the hot
pain of his thrusts. She had never been taken anally before, and it
broke the taboo with a feeling of being used and dirty like a sodomised
whore. The experience of hanging in a cupboard like an object, and being
a receptacle for a man’s spurting emissions only added to the feeling of
feeling dehumanised. Despite being a warm, living, feeling, person, with
a heartbeat and emotions, she was like a trussed mannequin. A mere sex
toy hanging there blindly, waiting to be used. It turned her on like
crazy, the slightest touch made her feel horny as hell!
The double penetration filled her to excruciating levels. He pumped
relentlessly into her, one hand pressing across her belly, the other
reaching around to move the black rubber dildo in and out.
She felt the two shafts slipping in and out. In the sweaty leather mask,
she could hear herself moaning deeply with animal pleasure. Her arms
strained against the tight ropes as she absorbed the pumping lengths. An
orgasm caused her to convulse as she swung helplessly in his grasp.
Kernaghan gasped, too, as his thick member, clenched hotly in the warm
tunnel of her ass, swelled impossibly and spurted his fluid up her. He
matched her orgasm’s intensity with his own.
Panting, he withdrew from her with a wet noise, a trickle of his come
ran down the inside of her thigh. She hung there, gasping for breath in
the mask as the orgasmic sensations shivered through her loins. She
expected Kernaghan to remove the rubbery gag and kiss her like he always
used to. Long, deep, sensuous kisses with plenty of tongue,
that left her gasping and trembling for his touch. But the kiss never
came. Blindly, she moved her head around trying to listen to his
movements through the leather. She heard his zipper being pulled up and
he squeezed past her. She made a few sounds to attract his attention,
but to her surprise, they went unheeded. Kernaghan pushed the dildo
inside her all the way and after checking for a moment to see that her
bonds were still brutally tight, he closed and locked his closet door.
She hung in the darkness, enjoying the feeling of being used and soiled,
feeling the deposit of his sex trickling from her sore back passage. |
She was blissfully unaware that he had no intention of untying her.
Dr David Kernaghan returned to his study and sipped at his glass of
scotch, Sitting in his favourite, if slightly threadbare, high-backed |
reading chair, he reached out and took the phone from the table next to
him. He put the scotch down and dialled. There was a moment’s pause
before he spoke.
“Hello, it's me. Yeah, you too? Listen I spoke to a few students todas.
I think they’re gonna bite. Four of them, all together. Two couples. A
blonde cheerleader and a gothic looking chick with black lipstick. Yeah,
Id bet she does too. They seemed quite keen. Our usual arrangements
okay? Fine, I'll speak to you soon. Oh, her? Yeah she’s still here,
hanging around somewhere, but I’ve got my eye on another already! Take
it easy, bye.”
He sat back and finished his drink. He’d probably go out later. There
was a new play that he wanted to check out, and he’d promised Miss
Anderson, the new Arts tutor that he’d show her the town. He didn’t
usually date women over twenty-five, but the woman had a great figure
and one hell of anass. She probably didn’t know it yet, but she wanted
to sleep with him. It would only take a few minutes of staring into her
eyes to get her on his side! He poured himself another scotch and went
through his diary for her number. He found it quickly enough and
returned to the phone to call her. She would look good hanging in his
closet, too.


Chapter 3

THE SHUTTERED HOUSE

“Hey, shall we check out that old house?” Leanne asked, leaning over the
back of the seat as Marc drove his van through the early evening traffic.
“What house?” Tony said, turning around to look at the two girls sitting
on the mattress.
“The Ogden place, wasn’t it?” Marc chipped in, “that mad old Kernaghan
guy was going on about it.”
“Oh yeah, I remember now, didn’t he say that it was haunted and that
strange things had happened there once?” Tony looked sceptical. “I think
the old guy’s lost it. Or smoked too much grass lately.”
“Well, I think it sounds great!” Marc replied.
Tony challenged, “come on! Hanging around an old house in the woods! I
mean it’s just such a cliché, nobody does that in real life. It only
ever happens in bad horror movies!”
“It sounds fun. Are you saying that you never went into a deserted house
as a kid to creep round?” Leanne chided.
Tony replied, “well, yeah, there was an old warehouse we used to sneak
about in as kids, but so what?”
“Wasn’t it exciting to be somewhere that you weren’t supposed to be,
itll be a laugh!” Marc smiled. “At least it would be somewhere different
to go.”
“But it’s stupid!” Protested Tony.
Alannis backed Marc. “Well where do you suggest we go then? Its: only an
hour’s drive and besides I’m sick of that parking lot—all those steamy
windows and those geeks hanging round, trying to peer in. We can’t keep
double dating in the back of this van for the rest of our lives.
Besides, Marc and I can’t afford to go clubbing this week!”
They weighed up the options. They had bumped into Professor Kernaghan
earlier that day during the dinner break. While talking, he had casually
asked them their plans for the last weekend before the recess. Alannis
found him creepy. “He had sinister eyes,” she said, but really Leanne
had always quite liked the guy. There was something strangely appealing
about him; he didn’t behave like an old guy. He was surprisingly
muscular when he rolled his shirtsleeves up in the afternoon heat, and
when he smiled he looked years younger. In truth, the four admitted that
they didn’t have any specific plans. A few beers maybe take in a movie.
Kernaghan looked as if he was going to leave, but turned back to them
and with an almost theatrically confidential tone, had told them about
an old house deserted for decades, on the outskirts of town.
The gils had atfirst giggled, thinking that he was having them on, but
his intense blue eyes challenged their incredulity and they were
gradually held in thrall by his measured tone. He even admitted to them,
that once, years ago when he was younger he’d broken in and explored the
house himself. He said that it was only years later that he
found out about the legend of the Ogden mansion.
“Well, as a history student, I was fascinated,” he said. “The place had
been derelict for almost fifty years. Old man Ogden was a merchant
sailor before the turn of the century, and he’d made his fortune in
shipping gold from South Africa. Around 1898, he returned from his final
sea voyage with a mysterious Polynesian bride. She was never seen with
him in public and he became a recluse soon after his return. Their
children never attended the local school and gradually all of the
servants left to seek employment elsewhere. No one knows what happened
to the family. In 1921, some years after the Great War, the family
records went missing and the house was found deserted, but all of their
belongings were still in place as if they had just gone out fora while
and had never returned.” Kernaghan had let the words sink in before he
continued. “When I was there myself, | felt as if I was being watched
the whole time, I didn’t want to stay there long on my own that was for
sure! It was pretty spooky. Since then only a couple of families have
lived there, the last in the late forties. No one stays there for long,
though. Noises in the night, mysterious smells, shadows on the stair.
The Ogden Family Curse, they say. There are rumours that a Witch Doctor
had followed the Ogden family back from Polynesia with that strange
bride of his. There were stories of their children being born hideously
deformed, creatures that lived their whole lives locked up in the
cellar, before growing strong enough, big enough, to murder their own
parents in revenge. No one knows for sure. But I'll tell you one thing.”
He smiled conspiratorially and the four, listening intently seemed to
hold their breaths collectively in anticipation. “It’s a cool place to
make out!”
They had all laughed and the tension was diffused. Kernaghan seemed
quite pleased with his tale.
“That’s bullshit, man!” Alannis smiled, and she found herself fixed by
those intense blue eyes. For a moment she recoiled, but then found his
gaze to be sympathetic and almost soothing.
Kernaghan smiled warmly at her, “I see that I can only fool some of the
people some of the time, but the house is real. It’s magnificent. I'd
have thought a girl of your taste and sensibilities would be able to
appreciate the place.” There was something in his eyes and in the way he
spoke to her, almost hypnotic, that she found herself curiously wanting
to see the Ogden house.
“Where is this place?” Leanne asked. She also seemed interested.
Kernaghan described the route and removed a small pad from his pocket.
He sketched a map and tore the page free. “Apart from anything else, the
place is a magnificent building.” He smiled and looked at his watch,
“well, Ill have to push on. Have a nice weekend, and if you do fancy a
jaunt to the Ogden house, don’t litter the place, huh? That could be a
listed building one day!”
They thanked him and drifted off into the activities of the afternoon.
Leanne and Alannis had been thinking of the house on and off for the
rest of the day, and were quite thrilled that they were actually going
to check it out already.
“Let’s stop off and get some beers on the way,” Marc suggested.
They agreed, and Marc steered through traffic toward the nearest mart.
Tony looked pensively out the window at passing cars. Of the four, he
was the only one who didn’t think it was a good idea.

*****

Damien Lucas pulled out of his driveway. It had been a profitable
morning for him and a very busy afternoon. The newspapers had found
another story to focus on and the kidnapped twins were reduced to an
afterthought. They would be forgotten soon enough in the welter of media
saturation as new atrocities were discovered and politicians were caught
with their pants around their ankles. The girls’ disappearance
would gradually be of decreasing consequence and soon be an urban legend.
He had more work to do now and drove with purpose and haste through the
early evening sunshine. The afternoon had been spent shaking down a few
local creeps with his partner for effect, trying to get a lead. One guy,
his fingers crushed and bleeding after only a few minutes of
questioning, even tried to admit that he knew who did it. Stifling his
amusement, Damien had let the jerk spin out a crazy concocted story,
which had his partner scribbling enthusiastically on his pad. He knew
the guy was lying to get out of being beaten further, but he let him go
on talking. It only added to the illusion that he was really looking for
the girls.
The phone call earlier had caught him unawares: he had been pretty busy
making his partner believe that for all intents and purposes he was just
a hard-bitten cop doing an honest day’s work. But that wasn’t entirely
the truth.
He floored the gas pedal when he had cleared the main streets. A glance
at his watch let him estimate that he had about a half an hour to get
there. He was feeling a bit rough. He’d not had much sleep the past
couple of days and had been so overworked that morning that he did not
stop for a bite to eat all day. Still, Damien mused as he sped out of
the city; it would help him get into character more easily.

*****

Marc’s van left the drive-in burger bar as the evening sun bathed the
streets in a warm violet glow. The four occupants were laughing and
eating, unaware of the danger into which they were driving.
Trudy Brown hung sobbing in the closet. She’d had but an hour of
attention all day and now her arms throbbed with pain. No longer did the
thought of sexual abandonment seem so wildly liberating. She felt
like a stupid young girl who was clearly out of her league. When David
returned she would apologise to him, but break off their relationship.
He was clearly far too perverse for her and she would happily go back to
the embarrassing, fumbling lovemaking with her awkward student colleagues.
Dr. David Kernaghan enjoyed an evening drink with Miss Anderson, the
good-looking Arts lecturer from Maine. She was well educated and
possessed a great sense of humour. She was quick to smile, and as
Kernaghan had been studying her for an hour or so with his intense eyes,
he knew already that she wanted him. Miss Anderson would prove a willing
accomplice in the bedroom. It was his gift. He knew womens’ deepest
desires. If they were young enough, inexperienced enough, he could
almost implant secret passions inside them, making them into bondage
sluts through mild hypnosis. He smiled at her over the rim of his
whiskey glass and saw inside her. She was lonely after moving so far
away from her home to find work at the college, and was looking for a
friend. He'd be her friend.

*****

“Well this looks like the turn off.” Marc smiled as he pulled the van to
the side of the road and gestured to the wide gravelled track that led
away from the main freeway and into the woods. The sun was low in the
sky and they had maybe an hour or so of daylight left. He held up the
sketched map that Dr. Kernaghan had made. “What do you reckon?”
“Let’s go for it, we’ve come this far.” Leanne said, trying to hide her
eagerness. The two girls had been patiently rolling joints in the van as
it had neared the house and they were looking forward to a night of
debauchery and excess.
“I don’t know, it’s nearly dark,” Tony mused.
“Don’t worry I"ll protect you!” Alannis laughed.
Marc put the van into gear and turned onto the side road. The stones
crunched beneath the vehicle as it wound its way up the hill towards an
ominous and shadowed grove. As they drove, the two girls found
themselves tingling with expectation and after a few minutes driving,
they saw the black edifice of the Ogden house looming. It’s heavy timber
construction stood darkly against the rich purple sunset. The peaked
gables high above them seemed to glare down at the van with blank
windows for eyes. The ground floor walls were made of huge stones, and
the raised front porch stretched a limb made of rotting wooden stairs
down to meet them.
As the four peered through the windshield of the van in awe, Alannis
pointed to the downstairs windows. Massive wooden shutters shielded the
entire ground floor from prying eyes. Some shutters were crooked and
missing a few vents, seemingly weathered and slightly storm damaged.
Still they prevented any casual observer from snatching so much as a
glimpse of the interior. The house looked as if it had once been the set
for an old Universal Studios horror movie. Alannis expected Bela Lugosi
or a lumbering Boris Karloff to walk stiffly and menacingly down the
steps towards them from the black portal of the doorway. She
involuntarily shuddered, “this place looks like a fucking fortress,
We'll never get in!”
Marc shrugged off the pessimism. “I’ve got a crowbar in the toolbox,
that should do the trick.”
“Oh, great, so now we’re breaking and entering,” chimed Tony, shaking
his head.
“Chill out, will you? This place is fucking cool!” Alannis reached
across the back of the van to the toolbox and hefted a couple of
flashlights. “We'll probably need these, it’ll be dark soon,” she said
as she passed one to Tony.
“I'll get the beer and the spliffs.” Leanne said, kissing Tony on the
cheek to reassure him. Inside he still felt uneasy. He gazed at the
massive crumbling building before him and wished that he hadn’t been
swept up in their enthusiasm to come here. There was something about the
place he didn’t like. He’d have much preferred to just chill out at
Marc’s apartment or Leanne’s flat—cramped though both places were— than
go searching out a haunted mansion. He was by no means a coward, yet he
was scared. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the door handle
and he quickly glanced around to ensure that no one saw it. He had a bad
feeling about this.

*****

The twins hung creaking from their restraints. They had been strapped
for hours to the heavy wooden holding racks, and left to whimper in the
cold dungeon by the hideously deformed figure with a livid, wet skull
for a face. He had vanished through the scarred wooden door into the
next room sometime that morning and although they hadn’t heard any sound
of activity since, they were both too scared to make a noise in case the
terror returned. The memory of his evil touch and the hideous visage had
burned into their minds.
Once the dark figure had dragged Kerri, the second twin into the room
and hauled her onto an opposing wooden rack, he had sponged the grime
off her too. The screaming girl, still blindfolded, had been reassured
initially by the warmth and diligence of the touch, but her sister’s
screaming had begun to unhinge her.
“Don’t look at his face, don’t look at him!” The voice had rung in her
ears and she too had begun to cry and lose control. When he finally
removed her blindfold she had been too scared to open her eyes until she
felt the rack handles being turned. The board to which her ankles were
secured also had begun to move. She felt her legs being stretched apart
and, opening her eyes in fear, had been unable to look away from her
captor after glimpsing the figure’s black hood while he turned the
wheel with his broad back to her. “Please don’t hurt me!” She had
screamed to him.
When the figure realised she was looking in his direction, he’d removed
his cowl dramatically. Then she knew she must be in the clutches of a
nightmare and that soon she would awaken safely in her own bed. She had
to cling to some hope as the reality around her was simply too
horrendous to believe. The two women had been clamped onto the wooden
machine by steel cuffs gripping their ankles and wrists. Their naked
bodies had been stretched to a tendon tearing length, unable to escape
or even turn away from him. The creature had thrown back his hood to
reveal himself to his terrified captives
The face was little more than a waxen, leering skull; dim eyes peering
from within deep, white boned sockets. In the darkness of the cellar,
his head looked almost as if it was floating, divorced from the black
cloaked body. The twins had closed their eyes and looked away from him,
desperate to avoid the gaze of the hideous face. They screamed and
wailed in terror as he purposefully went about his task.
The women needed to be cleaned thoroughly, and while the figure had
sponged them over with soapy water, they had also needed to be rinsed.
He unravelled a length of hose from a circular wall-mounted roller and
turned to the two struggling centrefolds. The women cringed fearfully as
he’d approached. The freezing water sprayed their naked bodies. Their
skin puckered as the icy liquid struck them, their nipples tightened
into bullets of angry red flesh. They gleamed beneath the stark electric
light while glistening reflections played across their taut flesh. The
two naked girls squirmed and writhed, gasping for breath as the hose was
sprayed over their faces washing a torrent of soapy grime in rivulets
down their straining bodies. They choked and spluttered as the freezing
water mercilessly sprayed them. Limbs already stretched and aching were
agonisingly cold from the rinsing process, until finally the stream from
the high pressure hose died and they shivered, gasping. The liquid
dripped from them in icy cascades.
The dark figure, once he’d fully ratcheted the settings of the rack to
sinew-snapping extremes, ensured that the girls’ backs were arched
slightly off the beds of the wooden frames. They steamed and shivered in
the dungeon, both praying for release. The figure had then pulled a huge
steel lever mounted into the stone of the floor and the wooden frames,
chains clanking as the mechanism turned, rose vertically, hauling the
suspended women into upright positions. Their tearful eyes met. They
whimpered to each other, neither knowing quite what to say to the other
as they found themselves both helplessly hanging from their wrist cuffs,
their legs spread wide exposing the glistening pink petals of their
vulnerable sex. The tableaux of Sapphic suggestiveness caused their
tormentor to growl with pleasure. They saw the heavy wooden frames that
held them for the first time. They were made from thick beams, bracketed
and pinned together with cast iron clamps and chunky, tarnished metal
pins. The wrist brackets that held them were connected to chains wrapped
around a central spoke. With dread, the girls could see that their leg
brackets were attached to hinged wooden beams that could be widened much
further. At the moment, their legs were stretched downwards forming a
trembling inverted “Y” shape. Upon further inspection, they could see
that the jointed wooden blocks were hinged to swing outwards to form a
hamstring-tearing inverted “T”.
He had approached the girls with a leering intensity. His glaringly
exposed and slick eyeballs glowered at their gaping and exposed
crotches. Frozen numb and trembling, the women could do little but
shiver feebly in their restraints, as he locked a large, grotesquely
carved wooden attachment into place between their spread legs onto the
supporting frame. The smoothly polished wood resembled a ridged and
studded pair of huge phalluses. The bulbous heads of the double pronged
monsters were menacingly aimed upwards, barely a couple of inches below
the dripping orifices of the two suspended girls. The pair began to weep
and plead to the creature to let them down, but the monster, breathing
heavily, merely went about its business. 
It had left the room and returned a moment later with a pair of vulgar
looking leather harnesses. The women saw with horror that they were
gags. Brutally fashioned with numerous buckles and each possessing a
massive central rubber plug to block their mouths. Moving with hideous
intent the creature slowly strapped the gags to the women. The
deliberate movements, as he tightened every strap and clasp, gave the
women ample time to see each other’s tortured expressions. The leather
bit tightly around their heads. The central plugs were huge, and had
almost reached down the backs of the girls’ throats as it forced their
mouths wide open.
Poised terribly above the carved dildos, the girls snorted for breath
through flared nostrils. Terrified eyes rolled in their sockets as they
had seen the creature brace itself and begin hauling on a large,
complicated chain and pulley system. Slowly the two frames had rotated
through 180 degrees. They had given vent to muffled wailing gasps as
they slowly lost sight of each other because their respective frames
turned backward on their central axis stopping only when they were
facing away from each other. The torment was increasing by the moment.
Not being able to see each other anymore was torture enough. It had been
a small comfort being able to make fleeting, yet reassuring eye contact.
But now all they had as a point of reference for the other twin was the
sobbing noises they made.
They had wept uncontrollably as the creature had faced them each in
turn, attaching a secure clamping device over their wrist cuffs. They
had struggled feebly against their terrible bonds, but the combined
strength of two freezing cold, dripping wet, glamour models was
insufficient to even cause their chains to clink together. The creature
had then produced a tub of lubricating oil and began to rub thick greasy
handfuls over the glistening dildo ends. It then had taken a while
longer to spread the gelatinous slime over the girls’ crotches, working
it into their tender entrances with its fingers and ensuring that the
vaginal and anal openings were slippery enough. The thick probing digits
delved into the wet holes eliciting gasps of horror and shame from the
weeping girls as they felt the invasive fingers pushing globs of the
oily lube inside them. After what had seemed like an age of internal
probing and slopping, the hands withdrew, fingers slipping out with a
slurping noise.
It had then secured some hanging lengths of chain to the wrist clamps,
and a second set of chains to the feet forming a continuous loop. It
then flicked a release to spread their legs wide, mounted as they were
to jointed wooden blocks
The creature had then moved from their line of sight and released a
hidden lever. The racks began to release their tension and the two
girls, connected via a central chain that passed through a pulley, were
pulled taut by their combined weights. There was a simultaneous wail as
they both dropped onto the massive dildos, the bulging heads ramming
into their well-greased holes front and rear. The pain of the dual
massive intruders had knocked the breath from them. They each slid
halfway down the ridged monsters; their elastic pussy lips dribbling
with lube were stretched gaping as they suckled on the gnarled
projections. The two women were held in place by the tension of the
chains pulling on their ankle cuffs. Their legs were straining,
stretched as far as they could downward in an inverted ‘Y’ shape. The
two halves of the wooden rack were mounted on sliding rails to allow
their upper and lower bodies to be stretched slightly. The creature
began to twist a handle mounted to the back of each rack, and the girl’s
legs began to be forced wider, as the wooden braces that they were
strapped to widened. It stretched their ankles further apart and pulling
them deeper onto the dildos.
The women writhed and bucked as their pelvic cavities were all but
filled by the gargantuan phalluses.
The hooded creature stiffened as if suddenly distracted. Despite the
sobbing from the two girls, he turned away from them and left the room
at a brisk pace, his job apparently only half finished. Beyond the
girl’s field of vision, above the heavily scarred wooden door, a red
bulb mounted in an industrial steel cage began to flash insistently on
and off like a beacon.

*****

The door of the Ogden place opened immediately with just one angled push
using the heavy crowbar as leverage. Marc stepped back, slightly
surprised at the ease of the task, and checked the heavy padlock that
had simply fallen away from the wood. The screws were gleaming and
intact. Maybe nobody had been here in years he thought, or the wood of
the door was rotten through. The others slammed the back of the van shut
and approached him. He ran a finger across the area that the steel lock
had been affixed and felt wet powdery flakes of wood come away. “Jesus,”
he thought, “a child could break in here.”
“Hey big guy, have you got the door open yet?” Alannis came up behind
him with a flashlight and play-squeezed his ass through his jeans.
“Yeah, of course. I had to really put my back into it—I think I pulled
something.” Marc grinned at her, “you may have to rub it for me when we
get inside.”
“I might just do that.”
The four slowly crossed the threshold and swept their lights around the
room before them. It was a grand entrance hall, dark and gaunt. Directly
ahead, a gothic staircase rose to a mezzanine that bisected into curving
flights up to the first floor balcony. They all stood staring around at
the gothic splendour before them, playing their flashlight beams around
the hall, stopping on interesting details. There were carved banisters,
blackened and grimy paintings that hung skewed on the walls, and details
lost beneath accumulated years of foul dirt. The place was cool inside,
refreshing in contrast to the lingering cloying
warmth of the evening outside.
“Jesus, this place is creepy,” whispered Tony.
 “It’s magnificent!” Beamed Leanne.
The door slammed shut behind them and they jumped in fear at the sudden
resounding crash. Alannis cackled with laughter and admitted her guilt.
She just couldn’t resist flicking the door closed behind them her with
her heel. “I got you all! Ha!” They nervously joined in laughing; and
cursed her when they realised it was just Alannis’s idea of a joke. They
were secretly relieved that it was a joke and nothing more,
“Let’s explore!” she urged.
“As long as you don’t go and try to scare us out of our wits again ,
Tony smiled, trying to look as if he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable— and
only half-succeeding. The four moved deeper into the house. A number of
doors led from the hallway into other areas. A large kitchen had a
massive black fireplace. A cold storage room had wet stone walls. The
dining room had an impressively huge and scarred table. Most of the
furniture was either broken, had missing pieces, or was tilted at crazy
angles. The floor seemed to be littered with debris and on a few
occasions, one of the group would stumble slightly in the darkness and
cause a fright. The few slim beams of dust-clogged light from the broken
shutters affording scant illumination. ;
“Hey, look at this door. It looks almost new,” Tony said, and the others
came cautiously up behind him. “There’s no handle.” The four looked at
the sheer surface. Not only was there no handle, but no sign of a bolt
or even a keyhole.
The door in question was at the end of a small passage at the back of
the house after the cold room. It appeared to be wooden, but someone had
fixed steel plates over it to reinforce the construction. They
tentatively reached out and pushed it, almost fearing for it to open,
but the door was locked securely. Alannis reached out a hand and held it
flat against the steel plating. “Hey, it’s vibrating slightly,” she said.
The others pressed forward too, experimenting with touching the cold
walls and the dull steel of the door. “I can’t feel anything!” Leanne said.
“Maybe there’s an underground stream around here or something, causing a
faint tremor,” Tony shrugged. He instinctively mistrusted anything he
didn’t immediately understand.
“I can feel it moving slightly,” Marc said, testing it by laying his
fingertips on the metal. “It’s weird. This place looks as if it has been
abandoned for years, but what can this door be for?”
“I wonder what’s on the other side...?” Leanne asked. Their flashlights
glinted from the dull steel, reflecting their own distorted faces on the
metal. Even the frame of the door seemed to have been somehow
restructured, the hinges secured behind the heavy metal plating. The
door was as solid a barrier as the massive stone walls. Leanne felt a
shiver run through her as she remembered countless horror movies where a
locked door is often a barrier intended to keep something inside from
getting out, rather than to prevent people from the outside getting in.
She made a silent prayer that her theory would never be tested and
unconsciously withdrew a few steps from the shimmering portal.
“Let’s check out upstairs, eh?” Leanne offered to ease the tension of
the moment. “This bit is giving me the creeps.”
The others agreed and they made their way back through the kitchen
toward the front of the house laughing nervously at the encounter and
opening a few cans of beer to sup. Once they were out of sight, from
behind the thick door, a key turned in the complicated locking mechanism
and the door slowly creaked as it opened inwardly.

*****

As they explored the silent bedrooms of the house, intermittently
peering under the dusty white drapes that shrouded the remaining ancient
furniture like ghosts of a long dead style of carpentry, Marc slipped an
arm about Alannis’s waist. “Hey, honey, what say we climb onto one of
these old beds and see if the springs are still functioning!”
All you ever think about is sex!” She chided.
“Well, if you remember clearly, you started it earlier in the van, and
more importantly, I didn’t get to finish! I’m feeling horny as hell
here! My balls are swollen up like watermelons! I gotta empty them
somewhere.” Marc whispered into her hear as he nuzzled softly at the
velvet peachy skin of her neck.
“You really are the last of the true romantics!” Alannis smiled. His
hand slipped down the back of her dress and she shivered when his
fingers stroked her bare skin. She responded by pressing herself against
him. She wasn’t the type of girl to deny herself the pleasures of sex,
but she wanted to see more of the house before the lengthening shadows
became an impenetrable blanket of darkness. She slipped adroitly from
his grasp after a few minutes of his touch. “In a minute, I love this
house!” She insisted.
The other couple turned toward them and Tony aimed flashlight beneath
his own chin and shined it up at his face. “This is about the scariest
thing we’re gonna see around here! Haunted my ass! I don’t even think
any of the stuff here is Polynesian or from wherever Dr Kernaghan said.
It was all just a wind up.” He chuckled, amused at his own ingenuity. In
truth he hadn’t yet shaken off the feelings of uneasiness that had been
lingering since he first set eyes on the place.
“Give the old guy a break, the place is pretty cool,” Alannis smiled.
“I suppose it is.” Leanne turned to Tony, “what say we split up and
explore.”
“There you go with the old horror cliché again. Haven’t you ever seen a
horror movie? Whenever anyone gets separated, or has sex, or goes
walking around an old house on their own, they get killed!” Tony smiled,
half hoping that the four could stay together and thinking, “to hell
with making out in an exotic environment!”
“Hey, this isn’t a horror movie and no one is gonna get killed,” Marc
announced. “Screwed, maybe, but not killed.”
Tony pulled a few cans of beer from his sports bag. “Well, if we must.
We’ll go explore the rooms across the hall, if you guys want to do
something exploratory yourselves.” The two couples separated. Tony and
Leanne crossed the expansive landing and walked down a long corridor,
peering into rooms and marvelling at the ancient wooden beams. Marc and
Alannis placed their cans of beer on a bedside cabinet, and lay together
on top of a large bed, the heavy white dustsheet crumpling beneath them
as they necked. Their tongues probed each other’s mouths, her stud
flicking along the roof of his mouth with a vibrant passion while their
hands caressed each other’s entwined bodies. They closed their eyes and
savoured the thrilling sensations. Marc felt himself grow hard as his
body weight pinned the writhing girl beneath him. He felt Alannis
pressing her hips against him as she arched her back. He squeezed her
breasts and heard her breathe passionately. Lost in their embrace, the
couple had no idea that they were being watched.
A panel on the wall next to the bed, hidden from view by the dusty
elegant drapes of the antique four poster, slid silently open. The
creature emerged into the room, pressing close to the wall. Its white
skull, rippling slightly, flecked with spidery red veins. Its head
glistened in the last rays of the sun that bathed the gable room in a
warm peach glow. It observed the frantic coupling for a few seconds
before reaching for the beer cans on the side dresser. Holding each one
up to the light, it noticed Alannis’ dark lipstick stains around the rim
of one can. It replaced the two beers gently on the table so as not to
make a sound, and then dropped a small white tablet into Marc’s can
before dissolving silently back into the wall panel and disappearing
into the crawlspace between the walls.

*****

The twins whimpered as they struggled to make themselves heard,
desperately trying to communicate to each other. But as one struggled,
the other suffered. Ignorant of the consequences of their efforts, they
heaved and stretched as they tried to lessen the awful experience of
being impaled on the huge wooden cocks. Each inadvertently pulled the
other twin down onto the carved wooden dildos mounted to their racks.
The chains attached to their wrist and ankle cuffs were fed through a
pulley system suspended from the beams of the ceiling between the two,
eight-foot tall timber frames. As one girl tried to pull herself off the
huge dildo, awkwardly hauling herself higher with her arms, their elbows
left deliberately unfettered to promote such behaviour, she pulled
downwards on the first chain. Cogs were turned, and a second length of
chain, attached to the other twin’s glittering steel ankle cuffs, was
pulled downward, effectively pulling the woman downward onto the dildo
beneath her, and driving it deeper inside. The twins strained and
sweated, not appreciating why it was that every time they could slid up
the shaft a little, only two inches from slipping off the end, they were
rudely hauled down onto it again. They could both hear the other gasping
upon re-entry, but they were too intent on relieving their own suffering
that they were unable to figure out the mechanics of their situation.
It was a fiendish device, designed to keep them at it all night! There
was simply no comfortable middle ground, as the ridged phalluses were
uniformly massive. So even at the mid point of the penetration, when
neither woman was actually fully impaled, there was an equal level of
discomfort. Every few minutes one or the other twin would attempt to
haul her own stretched pussy off it again, and in doing so painfully
impale her sibling. The clanking of chains, the moaning and gasping of
the twins, and the tortured creaking of the timber pulleys created a
rising and falling symphony of background atmosphere. It was somewhat
reminiscent of a medieval torture chamber. Which was exactly the effect
the creature had intended.

*****

Alannis lay on her back with her legs spread wide, as Marc’s thick cock
pumped into her. The slap of his belly against hers was just faintly
audible over their gasps of pleasure. Her skirt had been rolled right up
about her armpits, baring her slender body, exposing her heaving
breasts. He buried his head into the pillow next to hers and lost
himself in her soft moans. The scent of her body and the tresses of her
hair spread across the pillow, a dizzy patchouli scent of pure sex. He
could feel the beginnings of his first orgasm when he began to vaguely
register that Alannis had stopped her frenzied pelvic movements.
Ignoring it at first, he continued thrusting deeper into the wet sex of
his lover.
But he felt her arms squeezing between their bodies as she began to hold
him away. Cursing inwardly, he slowed to catch his breath and sat up,
his aching stiff cock still hotly buried inside her beneath the neat
square of dark pubic hair. “What’s the matter?” He whined, clearly
not in the mood for female vagaries. :
“I gotta take a piss.”
 “Oh, Jesus!” He snorted. “Can’t it wait?”
“It has been waiting, that’s the problem! I can barely hold it much
longer! It’s all those fucking beers you keep pouring down my neck to
get me in the mood for a lay! I’m a girlie, I can’t drink ten beers and
just spray a wall somewhere!”
“All right, but make it quick.” He withdrew from her with a gentle
slurping noise and lay back on the bed, his wet organ aiming at the
ceiling as he folded his arms behind his head. Alannis pulled her skirt
down a bit to cover herself, slipped on her calf length PVC boots, and
headed for the door.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“] just told you.”
“Just piss in the corner over there or something!”
“Fuck off!” She laughed, barely disguising her incredulity. Alannis was
appalled at the idea of soiling the place. “I’m going outside.”
Marc let out a sigh as she left the room and then shook his head.
“Girls,” he thought, “what great timing they had!” He reached across to
retrieve the two beers from the dresser. The first can was much fuller
than the second was. He’d been drinking faster than Alannis as usual. He
realised that they had only a couple of beers left in the house. The
rest were still in the cooler in the back of the van. He took a draught
from each can just for good measure, knowing that she wouldn’t notice
the missing mouthful. He felt a greasy smudge on his lip. He wiped it
off realising that it was Alannis’ lipstick stuck to the side of the
can. “Yuck!” He thought. He liked her wearing heavy eye make-up, but the
Goth image she portrayed occasionally went over the top with lip-gloss.
He remembered once that she’d come to college wearing Alice Cooper style
lines drawn down from the corners of her mouth. It was a bit too much
sometimes, he thought, and he lay smiling at the memory of the many
strange looks they’d received. Still, she was quite an exhibitionist. It
was better to go out with someone and get noticed than hang round with
those mindless bimbos that the rest of the football team attracted! He
took his can and drained it completely releasing a brassy belch on
completion to punctuate his satisfaction. He was, of course, completely
unaware of the concentrated tranquillising drug that now coursed through
his bloodstream. It was a strong cocktail, quick and effective. Before
he even had time to think about getting another can, his vision blurred
and he slumped to the floor, unconscious. One of the main ingredients of
the mix was GHB, or Gamma Hydroxy] Butamate, a relatively new compound that
acted like Rohypnol, the infamous date rape drug. It would render Marc
unconscious for hours, and leave him feeling unwell for a number days
with a massive, usually permanent, gap in his memory. It was such an
effective drug, that the body’s metabolism would efficiently break it
down until there was no trace left after just twelve hours. GHB was a
nightmare for the police to control or detect and subsequently
possession of it could lead to up to twenty years in prison! Even
Cosmopolitan magazine was running a campaign against it, as it was a
street drug. It was unlike Rohypnol where the makers had added a dye to
prevent it from being poured into drinks and used in date rapes, it was
virtually undetectable.
Marc’s eyes flickered in an uneasy, nightmarish sleep.
Alannis crept down the sweeping flight of stairs and into the expansive
hallway. She regretted going alone as soon as she saw the depth of
shadow at the foot of the stairs. She cursed inwardly as she remembered
the flashlight back in the room with Marc, but she didn’t want to have
to hold on for too much longer. Taking a breath, she slowly crossed the
darkness, one arm reaching out to try and feel her way across the room.
She reached the huge front doors, regretting that she’d slammed them
closed earlier. They swung open easily and she scurried out onto the
creaking floorboards of the porch. The last rays of sun lit the sky, and
poked intermittently through the trees around her. She squatted and
relieved herself in the darkness near the house, unaware of the watching
skull-faced sentinel in the upstairs window above her.
It turned away from the window and returned to the room with the drugged
youth. It stood over him as he sprawled on the bed. His penis was
hanging flaccidly from his trousers and his eyes were half-closed, his
breathing regular. The creature gripped an ankle and dragged him along
the bed. Marc made no indication of having noticed any change in his
surroundings; the face muscles were slack, and the jaw hung drunkenly
open. The powerful drug had taken full effect. The creature scooped Marc
into its arms, heaving with the exertion of lifting the
young man. It left the room via the secret panel in the wall, turning
its broad shoulders sideways as it edged along the crawlspace. The
wooden panelling slid silently into place behind them.
Alannis ran back up the stairs to get back to Marc. The darkness of the
house was seemingly absolute, so she left the front doors gaping wide to
pick up the last glimmer of the sun to illuminate her path. She felt an
involuntary shiver run through her as she half imagined the darkness
around her containing all manner of phantoms. She tripped into the
bedroom as she hurried, thankful to be back with her boyfriend again.
“Phew, it’s dark in here!” She said, kicking off her boots as she sat on
the edge of the bed. A few seconds ticked by without an answer so she
turned to where Marc was supposed to be lying.
The dustsheet was crumpled and had been pulled up to cover a large bulge
lying in the middle of the bed. She giggled. How childish, Alannis
thought, as she began to haul the sheet down. “Come out, come out
wherever you are!” The white sheet slipped from the mound and exposed
some bunched pillows placed deliberately to mimic the shape of a human
body. She shook her head, “I thought you were desperate for sex!” She
reached for the torch and flicked it on. She was alone in the room. She
shone it tentatively under the bed, not enjoying Marc’s idea of a joke
at all. “Look, this isn’t funny.” She moved around the room searching
behind chairs and under tables with a growing annoyance. “Stop hiding
from me, you fucking ass-wipe!”
An oppressive silence hung in the air and she suddenly didn’t like the
idea of being in this creaking old house any longer.


Chapter 4

THE GRIP OF FEAR

Leanne recoiled from Tony’s clumsy advances. They found a staircase
leading to an upper gallery and, settling in the corner beneath the
massive, angled timbers of the roof construction, had smoked a joint and
shared a few beers by the light of their torch. Leanne was feeling
strange. It was as if the house had called her there. Ever since
Kernaghan had spoke about the place, she knew that inside of her, she
would have to come here. Now that she was within it’s creaking walls,
she felt a sense of growing anticipation, as if she knew that something
was going to happen next, but Leanne had no idea what! Tony had been
visibly nervous throughout the whole evening—twitchy, distracted. But at
least it seemed that he had settled a little once they sat down
together. The beers and drugs were taking effect and he’d become
progressively more horny over the past hour since they’d left Alannis
and Marc. Leanne though, didn’t feel like having sex at all. She felt
strangely unfulfilled by the house, as if it had promised more
than it had delivered. She tried to shrug the feeling off, dismissing it
as her own overactive imagination, but she was certainly feeling weird.
It was as if the building around her was holding its breath in
anticipation. As if it knew a secret that she had not touched upon, yet
should have by now.
“Come on Lea, I bet the others are at it even as we speak.” Tony urged
her, reaching behind her long blonde hair to stroke the back of her
neck. Leanne almost pulled away from his touch, but didn’t really want
to hurt his feelings. She wanted to tell him something, articulate her
complicated feelings about the house, but as she couldn’t quite grasp
what they all meant. She didn’t feel like sex and told him so.
“Look, I don’t know. This place isn’t right. I can’t explain it. I’m
just not in the mood.”
“I bet you I can get you into the mood.” “How?” She asked.
Without replying he placed his beer can down and sidled closer to her.
He slid his hands up her legs and caressed her inner thighs. She didn’t
really want him to continue, but she also didn’t want to hurt his
feelings. Putting her reservations about the building behind her, she
allowed him to continue. He slid her skirt up over her thighs and
lowered his head between her legs. She felt the tickling of his hair as
it brushed against the soft white skin of her inner thigh. Then she felt
him pulling on her knicker elastic and she raised her buttocks slightly
from the sheet they had spread over the floor, so he could pull them
down a little. The cool air of the attic wafted over her naked sex, and
she gasped as she felt his hot breath caress her. He arranged himself on
his elbows and dipping his head, ran his tongue over the puckered flesh
each side of her vagina. He lingered and tickled and described circles
around the entrance, as he began to tease her into submission.
Leanne closed her eyes and tried to let herself forget. She concentrated
on the sensations from the probing moist tongue as it lunged and darted
about her glistening lips. He only brushed against them slightly, just
enough to tease her into wanting more. She arched her hips to facilitate
the licking as she felt her nipples stiffening in arousal. She could
feel the sensations from his tongue tingling across her belly and she
felt herself moistening with need. Still, he wasn’t licking out her sex
yet. He tortured her, cultivated her need by tasting the skin all around
her hot pussy. She felt her clit throbbing slightly, and her lips
swelling with arousal. Leanne spread her knees wider, and with one hand
to support herself, she leaned back to aim her wet pussy at his mouth.
With her other hand, she pressed Tony’s head down toward her crotch, and
she succumbed completely to his expert touch.
Satisfied that his tactics were working, Tony finally plunged his tongue
deep into her slick passage. His open mouth kissed her whole pussy and
moved over her mons. He could taste her juice as it coated his darting
tongue, which delved and licked at the inner walls of her trembling
cunt. She let out a guttural, breathy moan of pleasure as the soft
tongue slipped in and around her sex, running up the length of her
parted lips and coiling again and again around her pulsing clit. She
could feel her heartbeat increasing as the rhythmic lapping of his
tongue accelerated and sending waves of pleasure through her. She ran
her hands over the back of his head, ruffling his hair and pressing him
into her. She thrust her hips forward as she felt the beginnings of an
orgasm stirring inside her. Then she heard a noise. She ignored it,
closing her eyes in concentration and focusing on the growing feelings
in her belly. The noise came again just before she reached orgasm, and
she could feel the intensity subsiding. It was no use, the unease that
had grown about the house conjured unpleasant imagery that blocked her
pleasure. She listened again, turning her head slightly to try and gauge
the source of the disturbance.
It was coming from downstairs somewhere. A door slamming perhaps. She
slowed her movements to a stop and sat up on her elbows. “I heard
something!” She whispered to Tony, but he merely murmured to
her between licks. She listened harder, but could hear little more than
the wet lapping of Tony’s cunnilingus. “Stop a minute!” She pushed him
gently away. “Listen!” Reluctantly, he raised his head.
“I can’t hear a thing!” He was getting a little irritated with her. It
had been over a week since they'd last made love because of her period,
and he was becoming increasingly impatient. He was about to tell her to
forget it and concentrate of fucking, when he too heard something. A
voice! It was Alannis calling from somewhere in the distance.
“Something’s wrong!” Leanne said. “I just know it!” She stood up, pulled
her skirt back into place and hauled up her knickers. They could both
hear clearly now Alannis calling for them and also, surprisingly, for
Mare. Her voice was increasingly becoming distressed. Leanne snatched up
the torch and ran across the attic to the stairs. Tony swore under his
breath and followed her into the dark, only able to pursue her by
following the wavering torchlight as she ran. As he got closer, he heard
Alannis’ voice again.
“Hey Marc, where are you!” She cried from around the next corridor.
“It’s not funny, you know!”
Leanne almost ran into her in the darkness. The pair waited for Tony to
clatter up behind them, and the friends huddled around each other in|
the dim torchlight before Alannis explained. “I don’t know were he is. 1
know he likes to goof off but maybe he’s fallen in the dark somewhere!”
“Aw hell, what an asshole!” Tony cursed.
“Hey he could be hurt!” Leanne dug him in the ribs.
“Jeez, I’m sorry. Look, why don’t you girls stick together and I’ll take
one of the torches and go look for him.” In the darkness, the house had
taken on a sinister air. They no longer found the place exotic. The very
silence of the rooms in the house was threatening. The darkness hinted
at an unimaginable danger about them. Tony began to walk
away from the girls, heading down the hallway, calling for Marc.
“Wait!” Leanne called after him. “It’s like a horror movie, what if he’s
just playing a trick on us?”
“Christ, he loves horror films, do you think he’s just having us all
on?” Alannis wrung her hands in frustration. “Dammit what a jerk. What
the hell does he think he’s playing at?”
The two girls waited near the top of the main stairs peering into the
inky blackness of the hallway beneath them. They listened intently,
hoping to catch a noise to indicate the whereabouts of their boyfriends.
“I wish we hadn’t come here now,” Leanne laughed, trying to ease the
tension the two girls felt being alone and vulnerable, surrounded by the
unknown.
“It seemed like such a good idea at the time!” Alannis smiled. “Let’s go
after Tony. We don’t want to lose him as well, and we’re not doing any
good standing here scaring ourselves!” The two girls aimed their torches
down the corridor that he’d gone down a couple of minutes ago and
nervously followed him. It led deeper into the house, where neither of
the couples had yet ventured. They called out to him and after a
second’s pause he replied. -
“Yeah?” He shouted. “Where are you?” The girls asked.
“Just ahead. I’m in aroom. There’s no sign of him.” He called back to
them. “If he wants to scare the shit out of us, then I think he’s doing
pretty good job!”
“Come back, we want to stick together!”
He sighed, and thought, “women! They changed their minds more often than
he changed his underwear.” Then he shouted, “wait there, I’m coming.” He
turned around and felt his way along the room to the doorway, the torch
illuminating the dusty carpets before him. Tony was just stepping
through the door and could see the glow of the girls’
torchlight at the far end of the corridor when a hand clamped forcibly
about his mouth.
He was too startled to react. His heart literally stopped for a few
moments. The grip held him like steel, almost hauling him bodily from
his feet. The hold was far more violent than he would expect if it were
just Marc playing a trick. Whoever held him, it was not his best friend.
He felt a jabbing pain in his neck and caught a whiff of chemicals. “My
God!” He thought. He was being injected with something! There was a
syringe in his throat. He struggled and kicked, but felt a hideous cold
wash of sensation inside as the plunger was depressed and the
tranquillising drug was injected into his bloodstream. GHB coursed
through him, the accelerated heartbeat of his terror serving only to
increase the speed at which the drug took effect. He fought the attacker
with all of his strength, but the grip on him was too strong, and each
second that passed, he could feel himself weakening. After what seemed
an age of struggling, he felt his legs giving way and before he had time
to scream a warning to the girls, he blacked out. The monster that held
him readjusted it’s face which had slipped slightly in the struggle. It
hefted the lad onto the couch, satisfied that he was well under, and
collected his torch from the floor before vanishing into the shadows
once more.
“Tony! Marc!” The girls called, increasingly afraid.
“Did you hear that?” Alannis whispered. There had been a muffled thud
from the corridor ahead and they’d seen a distant play of torchlight
momentarily flicker along the far wall of the corridor. The two girls
called again. There was no way it would take Tony so long to retrace his
steps. The blackness ahead seemed to reach for them and the two girls
unconsciously began to back off. They hugged close to each other,
cursing their decision to come here. “Do you really think that they’re
playing some jerk-off trick?”
“If they are, then they’re really gonna be in for it.” Leanne said.
“This is seriously not fucking funny anymore!” She called out for Tony
again.
“This is taking it too far! Not even those two assholes would be able to
hide for this long without jumping out to scare us.”
The two girls had gradually retreated to the top of the stairs. The
front door was just a few dozen yards away, and the safety of the van,
just a little further outside. They waited a few more minutes, listening
hard, but the oppressive silence to swallowed up every noise. It was
difficult to find their voices and when they spoke it was in hushed tones.
“Look, let’s wait in the van. There’s some beer in there and we can sit
it out until they get bored of being dickheads and come out,” Leanne said.
“I agree.” They turned to head down the stairs. Alannis led the way,
carefully shining her torch on the steps to avoid debris.
Behind her Leanne stayed close. She was about five steps down the stairs
when she heard the creak of a floorboard directly behind her. She turned
about quickly, not really expecting to see anything there. It was more
out of reflex than choice. But she was terribly wrong.
A huge figure reached down for her before she could scream. Its face was
a hideous white death mask. Powerful hands grabbed her and hauled her
back upstairs. Her feet clattered loudly and she felt a sudden stabbing
pain as the needle jabbed her.
Alannis heard the brief scuffle behind her. She turned around expecting
to see that Leanne had stumbled in the blackness, but instead saw her
struggling dimly. In the dark, it wasn’t immediately apparent what had
happened. Her friend was in mid air, a foot or so above the top of the
steps. For a crazy moment, Alannis simply couldn’t understand what she
saw, and she turned her torch on the scene behind her. The light
explained to her the situation, and she screamed awfully as she saw the
figure cloaked in black with a skull for a face hauling her limp friend
away.
Alannis threw herself down the stairs, stumbling and half falling into
the darkness of the hallway. She reached the front doors but found
them locked. She banged against them, hauling at the handle and not
understanding how it could be so, when she herself had been outside not
five minutes ago. But the massive heavy doors were securely locked,
shutting her in. She heard a heavy tread approaching from the stairs and
she ran to the win cape that way, not daring to look behind her.
Her fingers wrapped about the vents of the shutters and pulled. They too
were securely closed about the windows. The tread was nearing the bottom
of the stairs behind her and she knew that she was running out of time.
Alannis turned around and reached for a chair. She swung it at the
shutters, expecting the heavy wooden dining chair to smash through the
rotting shutters and explode outwards through the glass. She was shocked
as it rang off with a clanging, sending a terrible jolt through her
arms. She was incredulous. The chair in her grasp had lost a leg in the
impact, but the shutters were undamaged. She reached out a hand and
peeled away the impact scars of flaking paint from the vented slats.
The shutters were only made to look old and crumbling. In fact they were
made of steel, as impervious to her escape attempts as the solidly
locked front door! They covered every last window on the entire ground
floor. The impact from the chair had succeeded in only exposing a few
gleaming slivers of shining metal beneath the layer of grimy paint. The
impression of mouldering wood was quite astounding, but it was just a
painted veneer! She half laughed. It was trap! The house was catching
them one by one. Half crazed with fear she ran blindly away through the
nearest doorway, deeper into the house as she heard the heavy steps
closing behind her.
The pursuer was moving fast and closing on her. Alannis scrambled
through the debris of the house, stumbling and screaming as she ran. She
rounded a corner and found herself facing the steel door at the back of
the house. The same door that her friends had paused at an hour or so
ago! She slid toa halt. It was ajar! But that was impossible,
it had been securely locked! What was going on? Her torch blinded her
momentarily as it glinted from the surface of the metal. Behind her own
reflection, she saw a dark shape with a white face looming over her. A
strangled cry escaped her lips and she plunged through the door into the
darkness beyond. She tried to close it behind her throwing all of her
weight against it, but a gloved hand caught the edge before it shut. The
thing was far stronger than she was and it forced the door open. She
turned and ran, realising that she was unable to prevent it from getting
in.
She was in a stone walled corridor sloping gradually downward beneath
the house. She felt a faint hum that sounded as if it came from a
generator somewhere ahead of her. The corridor was lit by a blinking red
light overhead. She glanced behind her as she heard the clanging of the
metal door. It was closed and locked and the figure began to advance.
Fairly filling the entire corridor behind her, its slimy skull reflected
the sinister red light and it looked as if it was drenched in blood.
Alannis screamed again, almost out of her mind with terror.
She ran deeper into the corridor and found herself in a small room
bathed in the cathode blue light from a dozen or so black and white CCTV
monitors. The scene was such an anachronism in the ancient house that
she thought for a moment that she had gone insane. The monitors showed
empty rooms and corridors. It was the house above her! Hidden cameras
monitored the entire place! What the fuck!
Her thoughts were shattered as she was grabbed from behind and hurled to
the floor. The monster loomed above her, holding a syringe in one hand
and reaching down for her with the other. She screamed and kicked out,
but her legs were slapped away. She felt the stinging pain of the needle
as it was plunged into her bared thigh. She beat at the thing with her
fists, but gradually felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. She
cried feebly, knowing that she was beaten and fell with a slap onto the
cold stone floor.
The monster stood to its full height and carefully placed the needle on
the desk. It was breathing heavily, the sound hoarse and slightly
muffled. It turned to the monitor screens and pulled over a revolving
chair before slumping heavily into it and leaning on the desk. With both
gloved hands, the thing reached up to its livid face. It gripped the
back of it’s own skull and began to peel the flesh away.
The latex horror mask slipped free, and the spiky polyester hairs poking
from the cranium at all angles caught the light as it slapped onto the
table. Damien Lucas gasped for air. “Jesus it was hot in that thing!” He
thought. He removed the gloves, slick with the oily glycerine that he’d
used to make the surface of the peeled skull face appear slimy, and
tossed them onto the table next to the mask. He lit a cigarette and took
a long drag to relax himself. That was some fight the bitch had put up.
He hadn’t expected her to be so resourceful. Most girls were simply too
terrified to move until it was too late! He glanced at his watch. He had
quite a few hours yet before they regained consciousness. He’d have to
sort out the two lads first, dispose of them somewhere and plant enough
evidence on them to cover his own ass. It wouldn’t be the first time. He
was actually getting damned good at this sort of thing. He’d had plenty
of practice.


Chapter 5

SEDUCTION OF THE INNOCENTS

It was nearly one in the morning and the city buzzed with Friday night
activity. In the distance, sirens wailed and the throbbing beat of
electric music created a melody of atmospheric backlight. “Would you
like to come in for a coffee?” Karen Anderson smiled coyly, hearing the
cliché of the line, but not caring. She felt somehow that she owed the
charming lecturer something for his driving her back to her apartment.
And perhaps she didn’t want to be alone again just yet. There was so
much more that she wanted to know about him. She wanted to listen to him
talk. And maybe something even more...
Dr David Kernaghan returned her smile. After dinner he had taken her to
a quiet bar away from the main strip, and over the next few hours he’d
learned a little about her past while cunningly saying all the things
that she wanted to hear. His blue eyes had gazed into the young woman,
had seen her loneliness and sensitivity, and for the rest of the night
had been leading her along. He was always a careful phrase ahead of her.
She had been an easy target. The woman was young and far from home. It
had been a simple matter of gaining her confidence, giving his best
smile, listening to her every word, and acting the perfect gentleman.
Something that she obviously needed in her life.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said as he played her again, seeing the
disappointment despite her attempt to hide it, “it is a bit late.”
Kernaghan glanced at his watch in a display of mock concern. “I mean, I
don’t want to keep you up.”
“Oh, it’s alright,” she replied a little too quickly. “I’m a real night
owl.” She smiled at him,
“Well if you insist, I suppose it can’t do any harm.” He followed her
into the apartment block. In the lift their bodies were in close
confinement, and they were truly alone for the first time. Here, she
felt her first sexual thrill toward him. He made her feel like a
teenager again! He picked up on her growing arousal and smiled warmly.
There was something about his eyes, undeniably captivating. She blushed
slightly. Outside her apartment, she wrestled with her keys, trying not
to let him see the trembling excitement in her fingers. Coffee was the
last thing on her mind as she opened the door and they walked in.

*****

Damien yawned, stretched and slumped heavily into the chair in the
operations room beneath the house. It had been a long and tiring day. He
poured himself a cup of instant coffee, strong with three sugars, and
turned to the task at hand. He had to get the two girls into position
before they woke up. He had spent the last hour or so disposing of the
two boyfriends. He was satisfied that they would be at a loss to come to
terms with what had transpired and he reckoned it would be at least
twenty-four hours before they went to the police, scared and rambling,
to report them missing. He would make sure that he was on the case.
After all, he dealt with most missing persons and suspected abductions.
It was quite fortuitous really. About six years ago, there had been the.
kidnapping of a beautiful woman, and he’d cracked the case before the |
Feds had even scratched the surface. Over the years, it was well known
that he’d cultivated a plethora of reliable witnesses and informants,
and it appeared that he kept his ear to the ground. He had even gone on
to stage a couple of extra kidnappings to further his own career, and
‘solving’ them gave him quite a reputation. Before he knew it, he’d
become the precinct’s resident hero. He was good at his job. If the
missing person turned up then he’d take the credit and make sure
everybody knew. If not, he’d hold up his hands and say he’d done his
best. Either way, he still managed to fake a couple here and there, and
most underworld contacts he used were of the disposable variety. Like
Rick Jenkins. It appeared to everybody else that his reputation was
impeccable. After a few years though, he realised he had quite a talent
for making people disappear, and he’d turned his hand to more serious
abductions to make some big money. Most cops he knew were on the take
anyway, on the payroll of politicians or corrupt senators, so he just
saw it as his own special way of ensuring a comfortable retirement.
He’d met Dr Kernaghan quite by chance. He was staking out a suspected
dealer who was hanging around a cheap hotel. Here, he witnessed the
professor through binoculars with a bound and gagged young vixen for a
fleeting moment before Kernaghan had closed the curtains of his hotel
room. Amazed and astoundingly aroused, he changed his agenda for the
evening and followed Kernaghan. Before long he found out where he worked
and saw the lecturer as a potential ally because the professor had
access to such an endless supply of young females. They had immediately
hit it off and after a few months of careful preparations, they had gone
into business together. For the past three years they had supplied
living bondage toys to wealthy reclusives for large sums of cash. Their
latest scam had been to use the Internet. Extremely expensive
pay-per-view, using untraceable |
foreign bank accounts, and channelling their site through a number of
coded servers to remain untraceable. The two centrefolds were going to
make a bundle once word got out among the connoisseurs.
After dragging the second unconscious girl downstairs to the elabo
basement lair, and ensuring that they were both unable to escape, Lucas
had hauled the unconscious bodies of the two young men out to the van.
Dr. Kernaghan had warned him that they would have a scrap of paper on
them with directions to the house. He had cursed him initially for
chancing such a damning piece of evidence, but it had been left spread
out on the dashboard. He pocketed it before driving back toward the city
and abandoning the van near a famous make-out lane. He then arranged the
two guys in positions of uncomfortable sleep. The back of the van was
heady with the aroma of cannabis smoke. “Good!” He thought. When he came
to investigate the disappearances, he would find plenty of evidence
against the two guys. They had been drinking, using illegal substances,
and when they went to report it, they would be walking straight into
custody. He also dripped a few drops of blood, taken carefully from the
unconscious girls, before leaving them to their fate.
It had taken him a while to get back to the old house. He was weary
despite the strong coffee, but when he imagined the two girls spread out
on the floor with their hands cuffed behind their backs, he set about
his task with a growing excitement. He laid out the dark-haired one with
the nose-stud first: Alannis. She had put up such a struggle; he would
relish binding her. As he removed her plastic skirt and boots, he
considered how best to display the pair. He had a number of small
Net-cameras with which to broadcast the girls on the Web site. A
carefully placed black square on the screen over their faces would
disguise their true identities. The low resolution and slow refresh rate
of the live Internet feed, would ensure that nobody would be able to
recognise their bodies.
He examined them carefully, checking for distinguishing birthmarks
or scars. With a cry of delight he saw the dark one had a tongue
piercing! This opened up a great deal of new possibilities. He turned to
the blonde. Leanne, he thought her name was. He lifted her skirt and
tugged down her knickers, exposing the triangle of dark hair. He spread
her labia wide with his fingers looking hopefully for any clitoral studs
or rings. He was initially disappointed to find that she hadn’t any, but
with a shrug, decided to pierce her himself.

*****

Kernaghan smiled as Karen lay beneath him, a post-coital glow in her
eyes. The offer of a cup of coffee had been long forgotten and once he
got her alone inside her small but pristine apartment, he had taken the
first step by embracing her. She had at first been a little surprised,
but he hadn’t attempted to kiss her at first. He’d said how glad he was
to have met her. How much she meant to him, even saying that he liked
her from the moment they met, just a couple of months ago when she first
joined the college. Then he kissed her, soft and lingering, but without
the obtuse familiarity of a delving tongue.
She found her heart pounding with desire, and her passion caused her
face to flush. She liked what she heard from him and felt herself
believing every word he said. Her vagina was wet and ready for him
before she had even taken her coat off. She just had to get him into her
bed! Her sudden lust surprised her. She usually dated for a few months
at least before she got that intimate with them. Somehow David was
different: she wanted him so badly.
Karen hadn’t had too much to drink, she was sure, so it wasn’t an
artificial, alcohol-induced craving. She felt giddy and excited as she
led him into the bedroom. He followed, smiling and lowering his eyes
bashfully, as he accepted her advances. She unbuttoned his shirt as they
kissed, and it was her lips that met his the second time. This time,
however, her tongue probed his mouth.
They made love and she found him an energetic and generous lover. She
had been taken gently, and found his caressing hands tender and
surprisingly experienced as he deftly manipulated her sex.
They lay there, not yet tired, and still excited by the exploration of
each other’s bodies. He remained astride her as the afterglow lingered.
She smiled up at him and gazed into his eyes. She realised there was
something more. She was not yet finished with him, and yet she
couldn’t phrase what she needed. She began to voice her needs, but he
hushed her with a finger to her lip, and he knelt back onto his thighs.
In the dim light from the bedside table lamp, she could see his muscular
body. She didn’t expect him to be so well-defined. He looked quiet
and unassuming but it was clear he was a very gifted lover.
He climbed off her onto the edge of the queen-sized four poster bed, and
gently removed a pillow from next to her. She watched him as he smiled
benevolently, unable to distract her own gaze from his eyes. Kernaghan
stripped the pillowcase and let the foam pillow fall to the floor. He
took the length of white cotton and rolled it into a cord. She frowned,
slightly unsure of his motives, but still excited by his presence. He
stroked her naked body with the pillowcase rope. She writhed and moaned
as the material tickled its way across her bare midriff. He gazed into
her eyes, willing her compliance, not needing to vocalise his
intentions. Karen stretched out her wrists for him to bind.
He took hold of her proffered wrists and gently pulled her up into a
sitting position. He could feel the warmth rising from her and they were
so close that he could smell the musty female scent of her arousal. He
kissed her tenderly, before moving her wrists behind her, and tying them
firmly with the cotton pillowcase. She arched her back and gasped
slightly as he pulled the knot tight. Her breasts thrust toward him. Her
nipples visibly stiffened beneath his powerful gaze.
He stroked a hand across her flat stomach, eliciting a gasp of tremulous
delight, as he pressed her back onto the bed. She rolled onto her side,
as her arms were trapped beneath her. He took her pantyhose from the
floor, discarded earlier with some haste, and trailed it tenderly over
her thighs. She writhed and pressed her legs together to deny him the
sight of her entrance, but he stroked the nylons down her leg toward her
ankles. He stroked the slender limbs, then gripped her firmly and rolled
her over. She responded lying on her front, exposing her delectably
rounded behind. He took her left ankle and stretched it out toward the
wooden bedpost.
As he tied the ankle to the bedpost with the pantyhose, he saw a
concerned expression flicker across her face. He slid along the bed next
to her, kissing her along the backs of the thighs, along her spine and
then finally on her lips as he stretched out next to her. “Don’t worry,
I'll be gentle.” He smiled at Karen, lying on her belly with her hands
tied behind her. “J’ll stop if you don’t want to try it, it’s up to you
entirely.” He spoke calmly in a reassuring tone and she felt a prude for
stopping him.
“Go on, I want to.” She spoke in a sultry tone, her voice deep with
desire. “I may as well try what he has in mind,” she told herself, “I
mean, we just made love!”
He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. Kernaghan slipped back down to
the bottom of the bed, his erection pulsing as he stroked his hand along
the curve of her hips. He reached around the floor and removed his belt
from his trousers to tie the other leg. Making sure she was secured, he
let his hands play over the backs of her thighs and buttocks. She gasped
and squirmed, helpless to his touch, love juice oozing from her and
moistening the bed. He made sure that she couldn’t move then cheekily
sat next to her on the edge of the bed and lit a cigarette.
“What are you doing?” She asked, concerned.
“It’s called teasing,” he said blowing a stream of smoke. “Don’t you
like it?”
She giggled. “I feel so vulnerable.”
“That’s the point!” He stroked her back and she writhed as he tickled
her. “Say, what have you got in here?” He reached for her bedside
cabinet and opened the top drawer. She started and lifted her head as
she saw him rummage about. He pushed around a couple of dog-eared
paperbacks and face creams that languished in her drawer, then opened
the small cupboard beneath it.
“Hey! Don’t!” She sounded serious for a moment, but Kernaghan merely
looked on, seeming to be quietly amused at something.
He reached into her drawer and removed her vibrator. She let her head
fall back down and buried it into the covers in embarrassment. “I don’t
believe you just did that!” Her cheeks blushed.
“Single woman living alone? Bingo!” He smiled. “Just what I was looking
for.” He stroked the back of her neck and whispered reassurance to her,
soothing away her indignation at his bad manners. He lay across her
back, reaching for her behind with the small vibrator in his grasp, and
stroking it along the tops of her thighs. “Relax, and enjoy yourself.”
Kernaghan massaged her buttocks and dipped the tip of the vibrator into
her moist cleft. There was a liquid sound as it penetrated, and he
pushed it inside her a couple of inches. Karen lifted her buttocks
slightly to allow him better access, as she moaned face down into the
covers. She responded well, moving her hips in sympathy as he worked it
in and out. He twisted the base and it began to buzz softly. She closed
her eyes and listened to the sound as it was successively loud then
muffled as he moved it about. She felt him remove it fully and lift it
higher. The tip, warmed and slick from being inside her pussy, pressed
against the puckered entrance of her anus. She was relaxed and felt it
slip inside slowly. She gasped as she felt her sphincter widening. Karen
had always been curious as to how it would feel, and found it quite
pleasurable. Her breathing became deeper from arousal, her pussy
drooling and hot for him.
Kernaghan left it buzzing softly in her ass, knelt behind her, and
guided his throbbing penis inside her again. She cried out in pleasure
as the thick member brushed aside her swollen labia and slid up her
cunt. “Oh!” Karen felt the thrill of double penetration for the first
time and her knees went weak. “Fuck me harder! Oh, David, take me!” She
let herself go, excited by the bondage game. She couldn’t move from her
vulnerable position and had relinquished all responsibility to her
lover. She was thrilled by the release.
He rode her from behind, pushing her down onto the bed. She writhed
against her bonds as the breath was forced from her lungs by the sudden
violence of his accelerated thrusts. She found her voice again and
gasped loudly in time with each deep thrust that plunged into her,
deeper than she would have thought possible. She felt his grinding hips
crushing against her bottom, thus forcing the vibrator deeper. Karen
felt the two shafts rubbing together inside her. The thought of the two
lengths pumping away, separated by just the walls of her pussy, pushed
her over the edge and she came. The orgasm dizzied her and for a second
she could see sparks of light on the inside of her eyelids. The waves of
pleasure spread throughout her groin and she succumbed to the
unbelievable sensations. Karen heard him gasping too and felt him
ejaculating deep inside her.
They lay together afterwards, both tired and fully sated. David
Kernaghan was satisfied with himself for initiating another potential
subject for bondage. Karen Anderson was quite amazed at how she let
someone become so intimate, so soon. With her! He had opened her eyes to
a bit of kinky sex. She felt so relaxed with him that it seemed natural.
She had been too reticent in the past, and hadn’t really had many other
lovers. She fell asleep content in his arms. Quietly, he slipped out of
bed, dressed and left. He took one last look at the young art lecturer,
lying naked and sprawled across the bed, one arm
outstretched over the ruffled sheet where he had lain on the bed next to
her, and felt a stirring in his crotch. Oh well, he thought, there’ll be
other times. He still had Trudy hanging in his closet!

*****

Damien carefully dabbed the antiseptic on the two girls’ labia as they
lay side by side on his worktable. He’d undressed them and carried them
into his workshop, once again impressed with Kernaghan’s choice of girl.
They were both very attractive young women. Their pussies were tight and
fresh looking. Their skin was unblemished, free from stretch marks and
wrinkles, and their breasts firm and thrusting. As he worked, his cock
pounded with arousal. He could hardly wait to get them into position!
After removing the sterile needle from the packet, he took Leanne’s
clitoris between thumb and forefinger and squeezed gently, forcing the
small pink bud from its hood. He pinched the flesh, forcing it into
aridge. Holding it exposed he drove the stainless steel point through
the skin. The girl moaned slightly in her slumber, almost subliminally
aware of her bodily modification, but she was unable to stir. He deftly
threaded a small steel bar through the pierced clitoral hood, and locked
it into place with a small, balled end block.
He straightened up and examined the jewellery. “Perfect,” he thought,
“maybe I’ve missed my true calling in life.” He deposited the needle and
the woollen balls he used for dabbing the antiseptic into a waste bin
and removed fresh equipment for Alannis’ clitoris. Damien was quite
disappointed that she hadn’t already been ringed down there. She looked
the type. He repeated the procedure, carefully affixing the steel bar
through the second girl’s clitoral hood, and marvelled at the two supine
women before him. Their legs were spread wide in unconscious abandon,
with their newly acquired metalwork glinting
from the dark hair above the moist lips of their genitals.
He washed his hands and placed a shallow basin of warm soapy water on
the top next to them. It was time to relieve them of their pubic hair.
They only got in the way and ultimately served no purpose once a girl
was fully bound. He lathered each mons with a brush, enjoying the
splashing noise of the frothy soap as it slopped over their bellies. He
held their legs apart feeling the softness of their inner thighs as he
deftly worked the razor about their labia. He dipped the blade into the
water often, keeping the edge wet, as miniature icebergs of lather,
flecked with pubic hair, floated on the surface of the steaming basin.
The gleaming wet pussies lay before him; glistening and dribbling as the
frothy liquid ran in streams like glutinous ejaculate from between their
legs. He had to restrain himself from penetrating them he was so
aroused. He wiped his brow; it was hot and humid. The girls were moaning
every few minutes or so. He dried his hands and examined them. Peeling
their eyelids open, he shone a penlight to measure their pupil response,
but the girls’ movements were just involuntary reflexes. Their eyes
rolled in REM. They were still under the effect of the powerful
tranquillising agent.
He washed away the last of the shaving foam from the girls’ crotches,
and sponged the glistening pink lips dry with a fluffy cotton towel. The
depilated pussies were fresh looking and seductively. They gleamed,
clean beneath the stark electric strip lights, bared naked and pouting
at him. But Damien realised he was working against the clock. He had one
more piercing to put his idea into plan. He removed another sterile
needle from the packet. He had quite a few. Like the top of the range
security cameras that were hidden around the house, keeping constant
surveillance, he had acquired them from a reliable contact— another one
of the perks of being a cop.
He had to pierce Leanne’s tongue. With almost loving care, he propped
her head tenderly and opened her mouth. He cradled the girl’s face with
one hand, his fingers gripping her soft pink tongue, then he quickly
drove the steel pin through it along with the stud to try and stop any
profuse bleeding. He snatched up a cotton wad and held it firmly in
place, tipping her forward so that none of the antiseptic ran down the
back of her throat. His heart hammered with excitement as he thought
about the tableaux he would create with these two delicious young ladies
bound together.
Once he was satisfied that the stud was secured and there was no
extraneous damage to her tongue, he laid her back onto the worktop,
rolling her onto her side to prevent any swallowing reflex from catching
the unfamiliar metal. He would have to hang Alannis up first, and so
dragged her along to the next room. :
There were four large cellars beneath the shuttered house, each one
leading off from a central corridor. They were arranged so he could move
freely about without having to wear the mask the whole time in case one
of the captives saw him. It was Kernaghan’s idea. After all, most of the
women snatched were in their early to mid-twenties, the typical R-rated
cinema-going demographic, and well-versed with the semiotics of movies.
The horror motif had quite a resounding impression on them and often
gave him a few seconds advantage to make the first lunge as they froze
in terror at seeing him.
He carried the drugged woman into the room next to the centrefolds, and
laid her gently on the floor while he arranged a series of straps and
chains. Suspended from the beams of the ceiling were a large number of
sturdy metal hooks. These could be used to suspend any number of ropes
or chains, in any combination. A multi-purpose arrangement that left it
open to the imagination of the captor. Damien rummaged through a large
wooden chest for restraints. He removed a few broad leather straps, a
selection of various lengths of heavy chain, and two sets of ankle and
leg cuffs.
He first attached the stainless steel cuffs to the prone young woman as
she lay on the cold stone floor. She moaned softly and for a moment he
thought she’d wake. Damien reached for the steel spectacle case in
his back pocket and withdrew the syringe in readiness. He didn’t like to
dose the girls too much in case there was a risk of liver damage, as it
was quite a potent drug. He held the needle close, but she merely sighed
and relaxed. Time was running out. He clipped chains onto the steel
rings of the cuffs and attached them to the ceiling hooks, leaving her
hanging three feet from the floor.
Damien wiped his brow with the exertion of lifting the woman into the
air. She was suspended as if she was lying on her back. Her nipples were
erect with the cold air of the cellar and pointing stiffly toward the
ceiling. He jogged back to the workshop and dragged Leanne into the room
with her friend. He snapped on sets of cuffs and suspended her on top of
the first girl, almost parodying a 69 position. Leanne’s head hung
between her friends thighs, her cheek on Alannis’ pussy, her long blonde
hair cascading over her buttocks. Leanne’s depilated crotch rested on
Alannis’ chin.
Damien went to the dim corners of the rooms and aimed the small cameras
at the girls, ensuring that they were in shot. He went back to the girls
and made some adjustments, putting two broad thigh slings about Alannis’
legs and hauling them higher in an effort to force her pussy up and into
her friend’s face. He then fastened a broad belt about the two women
crushing their midriffs together.
He removed some mouth blocks from the wooden chest, and strapped them
about the girl’s heads to ensure that neither could close their jaws
fully. He also fitted stiff leather collars about each girl’s neck to
prevent them from being able to turn their heads, in case they
unwittingly tore the studs free. “Now for the final touch,” thought
Damien. He carefully removed the tongue stud from Alannis’ mouth and
pushed the end of Leanne’s steel clitoral piercing through the opening.
He screwed the small end back onto the bar anchoring the tongue to the
pussy, and walked around to Leanne’s mouth. He lifted her head and
attached her fresh tongue stud to Alannis’ new clitoral piercing,
creating a Sapphic tableau of cock-swelling proportions. The
two girls swung gently back and forth on creaking straps and clinking
chains, performing an unconscious embrace of lesbian cunnilingus that
had Damien hopping from foot to foot with excitement. “Something
missing,” he thought, and went to look in the supply chest for
inspiration. He scrabbled round for some time in the corner of the room,
before returning with a pair of large stainless steel shafts. He scooped
some greasy lubricant from a tub and smeared the ends before forcing
them into the asses of the two girls. They were moaning and groaning a
little now, the drug apparently wearing off. He switched off the
electric strip lights and lit the dim industrial bulbs dotted around the
edges of the room, giving a sinister depth to the shadows and hoping to
disorient and terrify the girls when they regained their senses.
Damien retreated to the desk with the monitors down the corridor, safely
out of sight of the two new arrivals. As he passed the first room he
chanced a glimpse through the thick wooden door at the two twins. They
were still awake and had yet to figure out why they were constantly
being pulled onto the dildos. It was quite a sight to see such
impeccably sculpted female forms sweating and heaving as the thick
trunks of the phalluses plunged into them. He closed the door and
retired to his room. Pouring himself a cup of cold coffee, he sat and
watched the monitors. The pair was slowly reviving and emitting strange
noises as they came to. He sat back into his chair, making himself
comfortable and enjoyed the scene that played out before him, from three
different angles.
Alannis tried to shake her head and sit up, but couldn’t move. There was
also a weight bearing down on her yet she couldn’t feel the floor
beneath her. She opened her eyes, conscious of being cold and dizzy. She
tried to look around but found her movements hideously restricted. An
attempt to swallow caused a lancing pain in her tongue. She whimpered,
and as her eyes managed to focus, she saw a shining steel projection
bulging between bared buttocks an inch from her face. She was shocked as
she realised that there was a shaved pussy over her
mouth. She tried to cry out, but felt a tugging on her tongue, and saw
the pussy lips being stretched. With horror she realised that they were
attached.
Of the events leading up to this situation, she had no
recollection. She had awakened in a living nightmare. Alannis felt tears
well in her eyes, as so many questions and fears sprang to mind. Her
hands were cuffed and she felt the pull of tight straps about her
thighs. She could hear the clink of chains and pieced together the
information, giving herself a mental image of how she must appear.
Leanne also slowly regained consciousness, her head also groggy and
disoriented. Around the same time, the pair realised they were attached
to one another, but the familiarity of being friends did little to
reassure them in such a position. As they gasped and moaned in a mixture
of misery, shame, and fear, they inadvertently pulled at each other’s
labia giving even more cause for complaint.
Damien watched intently, giving himself a quick one off the wrist as he
viewed the quality footage. It was all being recorded and every angle
was captured in digital clarity. “Kernaghan would love this!” He
thought. He could hardly wait to show him as the two girls swayed
together in such a delicious enforced and lewd embrace. Damien wondered
if he should run a book on how long it would be before they actually
began to lick one another’s pussy out of choice. Surely it couldn’t be
long before they began to comfort themselves. His heart pounded with
excitement as he watched bathed in the cold glow of the screens. He
enjoyed immensely this privacy afforded by the secret chambers. He was
safe in here, locked away beneath the house surrounded by the best in
modern security systems, and able to watch everything that occurred.
Even the woods about the house were monitored to prevent trespassers.
The massive front door, although superficially rotted was reinforced
steel. The steel shutters all around effectively sealed off the outside
world, as well as keeping any unwitting occupants from escaping.
The set up was financed by his first arranged abduction. A rich
businessman had lost his son to a dealer’s bullet after he had developed
a habit that his father sought to prevent. The police couldn’t nail him
due to lack of evidence, and in a moment of intense grief the rich man
had fallen to his knees to implore justice of any kind. Damien felt for
the man, his life had been dedicated to building a small empire to
ensure his families line. His son was his life. They had been alone in
the guy’s office. Damien had had a bad day himself, his love life was
lousy, and his partner had BO. Quite frankly, the world stank. So, he
agreed to deliver the lowlife to the father. Fifty thousand dollars
later, he watched the grieving man batter the killer to death with a
nine iron. It was an intensely satisfying experience.


Chapter 6

MING OF THE TWO

Kernaghan returned to his apartments a few hours before dawn. He rubbed
the sleep from his eyes. He was glad it was a Saturday and no lectures
to give. He hung up his coat and boiled the kettle before unlocking the
door to the closet. Trudy Brown was still hanging there. She would no
doubt hate him at this moment. He couldn’t really blame her though; he
didn’t expect Miss Anderson’s mind to be so open to suggestion. She was
one of the easiest that he’d ever explored and while she was so under
his spell, he thought that he might as well take her as far as he could
on that first coupling. He didn’t regret staying out for so long, he
just hoped that Trudy hadn’t made a mess!
She was asleep as he unclasped the spreader bar that held her legs apart
and gently unhooked her from the ceiling. As her feet touched the floor,
he held her steady and she began to wake. He could hear her muffled
voice escaping the hood, hurling expletives at him. “Hang on, ‘til I get
you untied,” he said, urging her not to struggle as his
fingers found the knots. He freed her hands and her fingers went to her
face, scrambling to remove the hood. He assisted her and removed the
smothering latex, slick with sweat and tears from her face.
She glared at him, her cheeks smeared with mascara from crying. Trudy’s
face contorted with rage and confusion, but without saying anything she
forced past him and vanished into the bathroom, walking slightly bow
legged as she still had the massive black rubber dildo embedded in her.
After five minutes he heard the toilet flush and she reappeared. He held
out a fresh cup of coffee to her but she slumped onto his bed and mopped
at her tears with a balled handful of bathroom tissue. “I don’t believe
what you did!” She sobbed as she threw the thick dildo to one side; it’s
length slippery with her own congealed fluids.
Kernaghan pulled a chair over, feigning a bad limp and holding his leg.
She looked at him, not understanding how he could make such a display
for sympathy when he had locked her, trussed and stuffed like a prize
turkey, in a closet for nearly twenty four hours! “What can I say!” He
waved a hand, “I guess it’s something that I never thought could happen.
I just didn’t expect it! I guess we’ve both learned the hard way.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” She began to peel the rope away from her
skin. It left red furrows where it had dug in deeply.
“] was in an accident. I was on my way back here yesterday with supper
for us, when a car came out of nowhere. I’ve been at the hospital since
then for observation. They didn’t want to let me go after being
unconscious for that long.” As he spoke he made eye contact with her,
feeding her the lies whilst reinforcing the mental image through the
power of his thought.
“You could have called someone,” she came back, although now her voice
had lost its edge, she was no longer so vehement.
“I was unconscious, I had to sign myself out when I came to and thought
of you.” He swayed as if unsteady, acting perfectly. “Besides, would you
want somebody to come in here and find you like that?”
Her cheeks reddened with shame, and she uncoiled the last of the rope
from around her bared, trembling breasts. “Look, what can I say, I’m
sorry.” Kernaghan raised his hands. “It was a freak accident, but we
were lucky, I could have been killed! “
Trudy reached for her clothes feeling vulnerable and guilty that she’d
let herself be used in such a way. She looked up at him, trying to
prevent a fresh flood of tears as she pulled her stockings on and
attached them to her lacy suspender belt. “I think it’s best if we don’t
see one another again,” she said softly, and reached across the bed to
retrieve her knickers and stockings. She fixed her eyes on the floor. “I
think we went too far.” 
“I’m really sorry, believe me,” he sighed deeply. “But, I guess you are
right. It was my fault completely, I should never have bound you like
that so soon.” Kernaghan held his head in his hands and began to massage
his temples, laying on the pathos for effect. He awkwardly rose and
touched her elbow reassuringly. “I understand what you must think of me...”
She finished dressing and left. Kernaghan shrugged, chuckled to himself,
and jauntily crossed his room to the window. He peered through the net
curtains and watched Trudy walking stiff legged across the quadrangle.
He smiled to himself. The girl was pretty upset. Knowing her as
intimately and psychologically as he did, she was most probably far too
embarrassed to tell anyone of her ordeal. “Thank God,” he laughed
ironically, “for religion-based sexual guilt...besides, Miss Karen
Anderson was a better catch anyway. She'd lived a little, and despite
not being tremendous in bed, at the very least, she paid her half of the
meal last night!” She was a modern and sophisticated woman. It would be
more fun to slake his sexual appetite on her, as the student Trudy had
been almost too easy to debase. He whistled to himself, happy to have
wormed himself out of such a sticky situation,
amused at his own bathos, and unreasonably satisfied with his lot in
life. He checked his e-mail, his fingers dancing lightly across the
keyboard as he remembered warmly the feel of Karen’s body against his own.
With some interest he saw a message from Damien: ‘The fish are biting
his weekend, do you fancy coming out to play?’ “Excellent!” Kernaghan
said aloud. The coded message meant that the girls had been taken. He
dialled into their web site, monsterbondage.com and saw with some
satisfaction, the two suspended females. Viewed from the side, he
couldn’t see their faces. Every now and then, they would sway as one
pulled their head to one side. He couldn’t wait to get down there
personally and give them a whipping. He glanced at his watch. He had a
bit of marking to do before he left for the house. He e-mailed Damien to
say he’d be there early this afternoon, before getting stuck into the
student’s work. Just for the hell of it he decided to give Trudy a
failing grade, even though her work was one of the best.

*****

Marc sat up, his head spinning. A glance at his watch showed half past
eleven. He reached out an arm, feeling about himself, not sure of where
he was. His groping fingers closed about a handle and he hauled himself
up with a groan. The handle turned and he fell out of the back of the
van onto a dusty track. Bright daylight stung his eyes and he coughed up
vomit where he lay, pathetic and dizzy. He failed to assemble his memory
into a coherent pattern. He could remember little about how he had
arrived there, or even what transpired the previous day. On shaky legs,
he rose and went to the driver’s side of the van. Tony was slumped over
the wheel. He wrenched the handle open and shook his friend.
Tony had vomited on his own legs. His face was ashen and he looked
up dumbly, as if he’d never seen Marc before in his life. Marc shook
him, trying to get him to snap out of the malaise. After a while his
senses returned, but neither knew how they’d arrived there, on a dusty
lay-by overlooking the outskirts of town.
As the hours passed, the two tried to speculate as to what must have
transpired. “What were we doing?” Marc whined. “I feel like shit! I
don’t remember drinking much.”
“Hell , man, I don’t remember shit!” Tony rasped as he squatted in the
bushes trying to brush the cold clammy lumps of sick from his legs.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“My watch says Saturday. I knew we were supposed to be going out with
the girls last night. Do you think they spiked our drinks or something?”
“What the fuck would they do that for! Besides, where are they?” Tony
spat. “You wouldn’t drive up all the up here to make out with me!”
“You were in the driver’s seat man!”
“Jesus! I’ve never driven your van in my life!” He cursed back. “Look,
we gotta figure this out. Let’s head back to town and clean up, then we
can try to figure out what the hell happened.”
Marc agreed and returned to the van. There was something at the back of
Tony’s mind, preying on his fears. Maybe Leanne was in some sort of
danger. He had no idea what was worrying him. Nevertheless, he couldn’t
shake the feeling that when he rang Leanne, she wouldn’t be home.

*****

Damien strolled about police precinct 9, division 13, quite pleased with
himself. He’d hung around until Kernaghan had arrived at the house
before leaving for work. He gave him a brief account of the night’s
events, and left him to it. He shut himself into his office to shuffle
around some paperwork for effect but he knew it was only a matter of
time before the two guys stumbled in to report their absent girlfriends.
As resident “missing persons and kidnap negotiator extraordinaire”, he
would be put on the case. He knew he’d given them quite a nasty dose of
tranquilliser with a mild hallucinogen. The GHB should scramble their
memories a bit and yet would disappear into their bloodstream and become
untraceable within twelve hours. Their muddled stories should generate
some considerable doubt about their own culpability. He smiled, pleased
with his ingenuity.

*****

There was a small woodshed behind the shuttered house, about fifty yards
into the forest and invisibly reinforced with heavy steel locks to make
an impregnable and almost invisible garage. Kernaghan’s car was safely
ensconced inside, and a small flight of steps led down and into the
cellar. It was Kernaghan’s turn to feed and toilet the girls, jobs for
which neither of the men were especially fond. :
Kernaghan settled in the chair to watch the monitors for a while before
he saw to them. The resolution on his screens was far higher than the
Internet feed cameras that they used for broadcasts, and arranged at
better angles to show every detail. There was no need for anonymity
here. The two new girls had been awake for a few hours and were quite
terrified. He used the camera zoom to zero in on Alannis’ upside down
face. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, tears streaking from the corners
across her temples. He could guess what she was going through.
Alannis swallowed again, with some difficulty. Her throat was dry and
hoarse. She could feel the pulling on her clitoris from Leanne’s
tongue and noticed the heat of breath across her intimacy. Leanne’s
blonde hair was also hanging down, tickling the insides of her thighs
and sending treacherous sensations of pleasure through her groin. She
couldn’t squirm or move out of the way and had to endure the awful
arousal against all her wishes. She could barely remember meeting with
Marc and Tony yesterday. She remembered driving around for a while but
the rest was a blank. There was no way that the guys could have arranged
this! She had been mutilated, her clitoris was painfully hypersensitive
where it had been pierced, and her mons felt raw. She guessed correctly
that it had been shaved like the glistening pussy before her. No matter
how hard she tried to think of how she came to be here, she couldn’t fit
the jigsaw of jumbled imagery together.
The proximity of Leanne’s tongue was also distracting her. As she tried
to swallow or moan, the soft, moist tongue brushed the pink petals of
her stretched pussy, and sent a wave of pleasure through her. Betraying
her own sensibilities, she could feel her pussy twitching and fluttering
as it moistened, each tingle more delicious than the last.
Leanne, aimed towards the floor, had a clear view of her best friend’s
labia. Pearls of liquid began to well from between the pink folds of her
lips. Her tongue was so close to the oozing orifice that she tried to
recoil, and in doing so licked across the bud of her clit. She could see
the pussy lips twitching in pleasure as she made contact, and heard
Alannis gasping. She could feel the naked body beneath her panting as
her breathing quickened. Alannis had involuntarily groaned with pleasure
and her tongue had lapped Leanne’s pussy, returning the pleasurable
sensation. Neither girl could speak coherently with their tongues pulled
so far out. They made inarticulate sounds to each other, but the
conversation was somewhat lacking in depth. As Alannis moaned, she
licked Leanne’s pussy again. Her own organ was slick with juice and the
combination of tongues and hot breath, made both girls tremble with
arousal. Alannis, in particular, had it the best, as gravity caused
Leanne’s juice to run down onto her tongue. She tasted
her friend’s fluid and had to move her tongue more often to try and wipe
it from her chin, and in doing so, sent an orgasm quivering through her
friend.
As Leanne felt herself come, she gasped and moaned, and began to cry at
the humiliation of the scenario. Her tongue pulled and manipulated the
attached clitoris, then Alannis felt her orgasm building too.
Kernaghan watched with glee as the two girls began to lap at each other,
giving comfort and solace in the only available way. His cock pounded
intensely at the scene, as he watched with voyeuristic rapture as they
quivered and moaned, licking each other’s sensitive genitals. Kernaghan
watched in fascination as he saw their silver butt plugs bobbing
slightly in sympathy with each involuntary vaginal contraction. “I have
to get a copy of the videotape of this!” He said to himself.

*****

“Come with me, its a little more private back here,” the detective said,
gesturing toward a glass office door.
Nervously, Marc and Tony looked up as the cop beckoned. They had spent
the day trying vainly and unsuccessfully to piece together their
movements of the night before, and they had been unable to contact the
girls. They let themselves into Alannis’ flat with Marc’s spare keys,
but the bed hadn’t been slept in. There were also three messages on her
answer phone, and the packet of contraceptive pills on her bedside table
still contained Friday and Saturday’s pills. She clearly hadn’t been
home yet. It was nine that night when they went to the police station.
They had seen enough movies to know that people had to be missing for
twenty-four hours before they could be classified as missing, but they
couldn’t recall very much since four o’clock the previous day.
They had remembered something about an old house and Dr Kernaghan,
too. Tony remembered being handed a piece of paper quite vividly. He
thought that it could have been directions to someplace, but where?
Whatever had happened to them all, the one thing that was clear to him
was that something very suspicious was going on.
They followed the cop to his office and sat nervously in the Spartan
surroundings. Marc and Tony gave their names, exact descriptions of the
two girls, and the events of the day leading up to the disappearances.
The cop took copious notes and even had a clerk ring around the city’s
hospitals to check for any admissions last night that matched the
descriptions given. They sat in his office, patiently watching the clock
ticking the minutes past, desperately clinging to the hope that the
girls would turn up.
Damien looked at them from behind his desk. His partner had stuck his
head in a few times and he outlined the situation. He had left them to
stew for a while, and ran a few suspicions by a number his of
colleagues, acting his role perfectly. He laid the groundwork of his
fabricated suspicion before bringing his false accusations to bear
against the two young men. He took an officer to their van outside and
told him to give it a thorough checking out. Of course he knew what they
would find. Blood drops that matched the girl’s medical records, lots of
empty beer cans, and traces of cannabis everywhere. The idiots had set
themselves up with their own story. In an hour or so, he would take them
down to the cells for a recorded interview with a second officer
present. That would make them panic and they’d lose their way. It was a
risky line he was treading, but he could count on their criminal
naïvety. But most importantly, the girls were not likely to show!

*****

Kernaghan donned the horror mask and entered the room with the two
centrefolds, Kerri and Shandi. A brief check earlier had confirmed
that they had nearly a thousand hits on the web site overnight, and at
twenty bucks a go, that was some serious money. He had to laugh. The
contract on kidnapping them had netted Damien and himself close to fifty
thousand each already, and they didn’t have to deliver them to their
client for almost another week. The guy who wanted them, Stefan
Weinberg, was a rich construction magnate, who had turned his hand to
the film industry. He had a slice in the profits of that terrible movie
the twins briefly appeared in: Timid Obsession, about a voyeur in a high
rise block, Utter crap, but number one in the box office on the back of
the controversy and publicity over the twins’ disappearance. The irony
of it all.
He approached the first twin. It didn’t matter which one it was to him,
but it was Kerri, and he loomed out at her from the darkness. She
screamed in fear and he got quite a kick out of it. Putting on a
monstrous gait he loped toward her. She tried to turn her head away and
screw her eyes shut so she couldn’t see the hideous face.
He disconnected the sets of chains that attached her to the other twin,
and with a groan of pain, the two girls slid down onto the dildos. They
wailed together. Shandi heard her sister’s distress and realised that
their monstrous tormentor had returned. She trembled in pure terror at
the thought of it touching her.
Kernaghan pulled the lever to return the heavy wooden frame to a
horizontal position. The mechanism clanked and the woman felt a jolt as
the rack she was hanging from began to tip backward. Her stomach lurched
as she felt a dizzying wave of vertigo. Finally the clattering of chains
ceased and she was looking up at the dimly shadowed ceiling. The
creature towered over her and she recoiled from the sinister black
gloved hands that began to work about her person.
The creature retrieved a metal object from beside the table and she
craned her head to see what it was. It looked almost like a birdcage but
with wider, flatter bars of rusted steel. With growing apprehension, she
saw that it was for her head. The steel contraption was fitted in
two hinged halves over her, and it was strapped in place onto the heavy
leather collar about her neck. The contoured steel cage encased her head
with barely a half-inch space to spare. The iron mask also had a welded
metal plate affixed at eye level, to prevent her from being able to see
ahead of her and severely restricting her peripheral vision. She could
hear the monster reaching for some more equipment and a moment later,
felt two cold rings encircling, and then tightening, about the base of
her breasts.
Kernaghan tightened the figure-eight shaped breast cinches, and saw the
woman squirming in discomfort as they crushed the flesh of her breasts.
The woman’s chest rose and fell as she panted in fear. He attached a
foot-long spreader bar to her ankle cuffs and began to thread long
lengths of very thick heavy chain through her restraints, in order to
weigh her down as well as restricting her movements.
When the chains were in place, he unclasped her arms from above her head
and using an extra set of cuffs connected her elbows together behind her
back. Finally, he unscrewed the mounted dildo attachments from the
frame, and withdrew the prongs from her stretched and throbbing orifices.
Kernaghan released a second lever and the table tipped forward. Kerri
slid down the table and her feet touched the cold floor. She heard a
snapping noise as he connected a leash to her collar. He pulled gently
and the girl took a few faltering steps forward. The heavy chains
weighed her down, and the short lengths ensured that she was bent almost
double. He led her, the steel ornamentation clattering with each short,
teetering step, out of the room and along a dimly lit corridor, to a
floor grid set in a small alcove at the end of the passage. She could
see her feet either side of the aperture and caught a foul, whiff of
excrement and piss from the floor. Confused, she whimpered through the
gag, and the creature angrily nudged her groin a few times. With horror
she realised that the thing wanted her to go to the toilet down the grid.
From within the confines of the iron mask, she could see the feet of her
captor. She noticed as they turned to one side to indicate that it
wasn’t looking. She had wanted to go for a while, but this was worse
than she could imagine. She sobbed softly, and the creature released a
bestial grunt at her. The fear made it easier, and as she was already
bent halfway down, it was easy enough to squat over the grating. She let
go a stream of urine, and felt a reassuring hand pat her shoulder gently.
Kernaghan was glad of the mask as the girl took a piss. It was a
necessary evil. When she finished, he turned a hose on her and sprayed
lukewarm water over her to rinse her down. He led her back to the rack
and then retired to the monitor room for a coffee and a cigarette before
he saw to the other girl. He opened a cupboard above the small stainless
steel sink in the corner and removed a few instant pasta meals. They
weren’t much, but it kept them fed. It was a time consuming operation,
Kernaghan thought, forcing terrified captive sex objects to piss and
shit down a grid, and then feed them by mashing food down an inch wide
tube in their gags. But at least it was a change, he thought, and it got
him out of the house every now and then.

*****

“Look guys, you say you don’t remember what happened, but you’re really
scared for the girl’s safety.” Damien spoke slowly, not quite
patronisingly, but enough to get a rise out of them.
“It’s not us you should be harassing, you should be out there looking
for them!” Marc snapped, tired of the questioning which seemed to be
going around in circles. “Something could have happened.”
“You seem quite sure of that?” Damien asked, raising an eyebrow and
glancing at the uniformed officer in the doorway.
Tony took over. “‘We’re worried man, we don’t know what’s happened
to them.”
“You can’t remember how you got to the lay-by on the East Side of town?
Had you been drinking?”
“We don’t know how we got there.” “You had been drinking?” He pressed.
“No, well, yes. A bit.” Marc conceded as the memory of the headache he
woke with still throbbed behind his eyes.
Damien took that moment to turn to the uniformed cop, who held a number
of clear plastic bags in one hand. He excused himself and left the room,
closing the door behind him as he listened to what the examiner had
found in the van. Tony turned to Marc quickly and grabbed his arm. “Did
you see what he had?” He was sure that he made out the outline of some
things from the van and he recognised a small vial from the TV cop
shows. It was a sterile container for forensic evidence. He tensed, his
heart pounding as he realised the direction that the cop’s questioning
was leading. The two of them were the main suspects! Marc and Tony! The
guy thought that they were responsible for their disappearances, and
maybe worse. God only knew what had happened, but he was damned if he
was going to be held in custody for something he didn’t do, while his
girlfriend could be lying somewhere hurt, or maybe worse!
As Damien returned, Tony stood up. “We'd like to take some blood samples
from you. Just to eliminate you from suspicion you see, as we’ve found a
few droplets in your van. Purely procedural.” Marc looked up confused
and slightly scared. ““We’ve also had phone calls from the girls parents
to report them missing too, and it appears that they back up your story.
Both girls were apparently with you two last night.”
Tony could see the uniformed cop entering the room behind Inspector
Lucas. They would detain them—he knew it. “What’s going to happen?” Marc
asked, the fear evident in his voice.
“We'd just like to take a few samples and maybe record an interview with
a second officer present just to get the facts straight.” Damien no
longer found it necessary to disguise his suspicion, enjoying the
startled, wide-eyed fear evident in their faces.
“You think we’ve done something?” Marc was incredulous.
“Nobodies saying anything yet.” Damien reached out to remove his jacket
from the back of his chair. “If you'll accompany me to an interview
room, we can get this investigation underway.” As he hefted the jacket,
Tony made a break for it. He pushed out the room and past the startled
uniformed cop. Marc sprang to his feet confused. Scared that Mare would
run, the uniformed cop grabbed him, forced him onto the desk, and
snapped the cuffs on. Damien dodged out of his office in pursuit, but
the athletic student had rounded the corridor and through the fire
doors. He debated whether to follow or not. Clearly, the man couldn’t
remember much, and his escape had looked like a pretty damning admission
of guilt. With a sigh, he turned back to the office. Marc was safely in
custody. He couldn’t have planned the scene better even if he’d tried.
“Jesus! What a shambles,” he said to the cop. “Take him down, and I’ll
put out an APB on the other lad.” He shook his head in mock disgust.
“Makes you sick don’t it, the way these creeps try and cover their
tracks by reporting the girls missing themselves, thinking it’I] make
them look innocent. You'd think at least they’d get their story
straight!” The other cop agreed and hauled the struggling Marc from the
office. Damien could hear his protests receding as he was taken along
the hall to the cells. Trying not to look too smug, he lit a cigarette
and collected the missing person’s forms from his desk. He hated
paperwork, but thanks to the bureaucracy, he could cover his tracks much
easier. He would go to his supervisor in a few days and ask to be taken
off this case to allow him more time to crack the centrefold abductions.
It would suitably distance him from the entire investigation, rendering
his potential culpability to a big fat zero. The two guys were as good as
framed an it wouldn't be long before Tony
was brought in. It was worth having him as a loose end for a while, as
the longer he evaded capture, the more guilty he appeared.

*****

He ran hard, his breath rasping painfully. Tony’s mind reeled with a
mixture of emotions. He had no idea what to do but keep running. He
threw his jacket off as he rounded a corner and pelted down an alley to
try and thwart any police description of him that may be circulating. He
had one chance. Kernaghan. He would have to back him up. That house in
the woods, he could remember something, but couldn’t be sure what it
was. He was sure that Kernaghan was involved. He ducked into the
darkness of the park, as it afforded him some cover and kept him off the
streets. He slumped against a tree and held back tears. What the hell
had happened to his world? Everything around him had gone crazy, and his
brain hurt more the harder he tried to think of what happened.
He took a few deep breaths to regain his shattered composure and
resolved to see Kernaghan. He set off in the direction of the campus. If
there were one person he could turn to, it would be the ever-reliable
Doctor. He was a solid figure about campus, surely he couldn’t believe
the police’s version of events. He knew that he would never harm Leanne
or Alannis. As he ran he couldn’t get her face from his mind. All he
wanted was to see her again, safe and well.

*****

Kernaghan checked the Web site’s e-mail. There were a few renewed
subscriptions and a number of requests. He read through them chuckling
to himself. A girl from New Jersey wanted to know where
they were based so she could join in. She desperately wanted a go on the
see saw. He replied with a few words to the effect that all girls used
were professional models and adult movie actresses. They were glad that
she liked the site but for contractual reasons, they couldn’t allow
members of the general public into their studios. He shook his head and
smiled to himself. He always wanted to write fiction, but e- mails full
of lies weren’t exactly what he had in mind. If only they knew the
truth! A couple of people had sent in brief sketches of positions that
they'd like to see the girls. He saved them to disk, after all, they
were forever looking for new ideas and the customer was always right.
The site itself was brash, colourful, and slightly garish to allay any
suspicions of it being the bondage equivalent of a snuff movie. It was
both humorous and topical, and certainly professional looking. The
illusion that the girls were actually models, and not abducted victims,
was reinforced by elaborate but well worked out biographies and a couple
of scanned in photos from obscure ten year old European porn magazines.
The front was elaborate and thus far they had remained above suspicion.
It was an enormous money-spinner.
The bell rang on the microwave next to the sink, and Kernaghan logged
off. He retrieved the instant meals and added a couple of powdered
vitamin sachets. It was one thing feeding them cheaply, but he didn’t
want to malnourish them. He pulled on the skull mask, which was obtained
from a mail order horror fanzine. It was heavily customised, with extra
paint and added latex veins. He took the tray to the room with the
dangling girls.
Alannis saw the door creaking slowly open and the hideous creature
enter. With horror, she tried to scream, but her tongue pulled at
Leanne’s labia and she could only manage a gurgled cry. It approached
slowly holding a tray. It paused for a moment looking over her, glaring
down with wet eyes peering from hollowed sockets. It held up a steel
plug, about eight inches long and at least three inches thick, and moved it
towards her. For a moment, Alannis thought that the monster was going to
plunge the huge rod down her mouth. But instead, the length was forced
into Leanne’s wet vagina, which dribbled fluid onto her chin, as the
length was rammed home.
The other girl struggled as she felt herself being entered, and Alannis
could feel her friend’s breasts, flattened against her, wobbling
slightly from side to side as she squirmed, her nipples stiffening. Her
head was held between Alannis’ thighs and Leanne had no idea whom or
what was violating her. The two friends had been hanging there for what
seemed like days, with nothing to do but move their tongues softly
across each other’s genitals. Their initial revulsion had long since
faded into resigned acceptance. They couldn’t help but lick the other’s
pussy, as their tongues were attached to the other’s clitoral hood.
After a while she had grown quite used to the smell and the taste. And
all things considered they had managed to comfort each other quite a
lot. Leanne was glad though, that she was on top, looking down at her
friends gulping pussy. Poor Alannis must be nearly drowning in her
emissions, as it was dripping straight down the back of her throat. Tony
had often commented on how much juice Leanne made. A couple of times,
she actually felt herself ejaculate when she came. At first she thought
she was suffering from some sort of incontinence, until once, when going
down on her, Tony had seen the juice bubbling from her glands. She felt
her lips spread wide and a solid plug bulged inside her. Leanne gasped
as she felt something hot splattering the backs of her thighs and caught
a whiff of something. ..‘No, it couldn’t be!” She fearfully thought.
Carbonara?
Kernaghan plugged the top girl’s pussy to prevent any of the messy food
falling inside. The dark-haired girl looked terrified as he began to
spoon-feed her the pasta. She could only swallow with difficulty, and
chewing was almost impossible. He had mashed the food up a little and
after every couple of spoonfuls, he poured out a little water
from a small milk jug to wash it down. The girl struggled initially,
causing a few spoonfuls to miss her mouth and splatter the buttocks and
thighs of the top one. It aroused him to see the quivering buttocks next
to the gaping mouth of the feeding girl. The three sex orifices were
there for his taking. All wet and ready. Ass, cunt, and mouth— even if
not all belonged to the same girl. But he held back from taking them. He
had some work to do first, and besides, he’d enjoy it all the more in a
few days.


Chapter 7

THE RED ROOMS

Damien arrived at seven that evening to take over the supervision of the
women. Kernaghan told him of the requests to see the girls on the seesaw
and he resolved to put the twins on it for the last few days in custody
here.
“How’s the police investigation going?” Kernaghan asked.
“Spot on! The guy we’ve got in custody can’t make bail. He’s scared and
confused because he has no idea what happened on Friday night. With
another few hours of intense probing, and of course, misleading
questioning, I can probably convince him that he really is guilty!”
Damien laughed.
The two friends parted and Damien set about tranquillising their guests.
again, in readiness for changing their scenes. Of the four cavernous
dungeon rooms situated in their cellars, they had painted two of them in
a burlesque red. It kept the punters flocking back for more when
they knew the bondage positions would be changed on a weekly basis. He
had a large back catalogue of short video clips that could be downloaded
onto the customer’s PC, for a small fee of course. It detailed at least
forty different women on dozens of elaborately constructed bondage
machines. A few were practically museum pieces, and they started the
venture with just a few benches and chairs with cuffs mounted. But after
the money began to roll in, he could afford to design and build his own
elaborate fantasies. Sometimes he simply modified existing wooden
constructions, like the seesaw, but others like the adjustable racks
were purely visions of Damien’s warped sensibilities.
He knew that the seesaw was a particular favourite and it had quite
regular use. It mounted to a frame in a room with the walls painted
uniformly in a livid red, resembling a garish, bordello, or some
sinister house of burlesque. He had to fit the women into strict
costumes before he could attach them to the machine, so he adjusted the
levers on the large hanging racks and removed Kerri and Shandi from the
frames. Between them, Damien and Kernaghan had amassed a huge selection
of rubber and leather bondage clothing for their women victims and as he
was rifling through a black lacquered wardrobe. It gave him a few ideas
about dressing the two college students. He’d probably put them on a
display post a little later, but first he would remove the heavy
corsetry for the seesaw. He still had the twins to deal with.
He dressed the two women as if they were life-sized dolls. They flopped
slackly from side to side as he went about fastening the heavy steel
framed corsets about them. He cinched their waists and hauled them about
while they murmured and occasionally moaned in their drug- induced
slumber. The two girls were fitted with latex rubber hoods that had wide
apertures for their eyes, nose, and mouths. He left the cheek-bulging
mouth gags in place, as there was no need to be able to hear the women
protesting. The impression the see saw made could be seen clearly in the
eyes of the women once the contraption was in
full flow. He pulled Kerri’s hair through two rear-mounted apertures in
the hood, giving a juvenile style of hair bunches. He threaded Shandi’s
hair into a ponytail through a single opening in the hood, so the
viewers would at least be able to tell the two apart. The heavy corsets
were attached to their thick collars by broad leather straps that were
fed through rings over the breasts. The extreme tightness of the
strapping caused the girls’ breasts to swell over the open cups of the
corsets. He gave the straps a further wrenching tug before clasping them
into place. He was satisfied that he was unable to fit so much as his
little finger between the straps, and with the bulging skin of her breasts.
He rolled a pair of shoulder-length latex gloves over their arms, the
tightness of the latex causing their upper arms to bulge. He wrenched
their hands behind their backs, forcing them up into an excruciating
back prayer before clamping the wrists together with a set of heavy
cuffs. He also slipped a tight band about their fingers to prevent the
girls from being able to even flex their hands. An extra strap was
pulled tight about their forearms and he enjoyed the feel of the ridged,
latex encased arms as they swelled with the stricture.
Damien completed their shining outfits with a pair of painfully tight
rubber stockings that pinched the skin of their thighs as he rolled them
on. He strapped their legs into a folded position, their knees as high
as their breasts, with two thick bands securing them, and finally, their
legs were pulled tightly together, and clasped to loops mounted to the
sides of their corsets. The overall effect was to make the women appear
compacted and crushed inside their suits and leave their glistening
genitals exposed.
While the women were under, he dragged them to the Red Room and began to
position them onto the wooden frame mounted in the centre of the
chamber. The central bar was a thick beam suspended a few feet from the
floor. At each end of the beam, a set of glistening double- pronged
dildos rose proudly and menacingly from a thrusting cylindrical
base. At the middle of the beam, a cantilevered timber hinted at the
nature of the device. At each end, Damien attached the women, using a
secure broad strap that passed about their waists. A safety strap
attached to a D-ring mounted to the front of their corsets not only
served to display their ample, although artificially cosmetic, charms,
bu held them firmly above the dildos.
Damien attached some safety chains to their wrist cuffs to ensure that
the girl’s descent onto the prongs wasn’t too fast or damaging. Around
the room, the chains ran through gears, which in turn were powered by
the central generator beneath the house. There was a chunky throw switch
on the wall which, once pulled, would ensure that the machine would
spark into life and the seesaw would tip back and forth, driving them
down onto the dildos one after the other every few minutes. Damien went
to the wall and activated a silent alarm. It would detect any
significant movement from the women, and alert him when they woke. They
would no doubt be startled to find themselves in such an ominous
position and dressed so provocatively, that a struggle would be their
first reaction. It would succeed only in attracting Damien to the Red
Room and he would throw the switch before them and set the contraption
into motion, driving the pair of them onto the upward thrusting cocks
against a background of livid blood red bricks. The scene would be like
a child’s playground in hell, and they would act out their unwitting
roles as if they were captive maidens in the devil. They will bob up and
down on the massive penile protrusions of a satanic. Black glistening
latex women, their bodies sculpted to perfection being mechanically
fucked against the livid red background; it made his cock swell with
purpose every time he thought about it.

*****

Marc languished in his prison cell. His brain ached with the constant
repetition of the events that had brought him to this nadir. He had lost
all sense of time and had given up hope of freedom. He and Tony had no
memory of the night in question. It was only a day or two ago, but
already seemed like a lifetime. He slumped in the corner, leaning
against the coldness of the wall, wishing that he had the nerve to run
like Tony. But here he was now. Maybe they fad done something to the
girls. If he could only just recall that night...it was no use though.
His memory was scrambled and the events made no sense. All he could
remember was Tony rattling on about Kernaghan and something about a
house. He couldn’t remember that much himself, but had told the police
as much as he could in the interview room. The whole thing was such an
ordeal, that he could feel tears of frustration burning his eyes. The
two uniformed officers who had recorded the interview had been
unsympathetic and even openly hostile at times, trying to force him to
admit to a crime of which he had no recollection. Even his allocated
lawyer didn’t seem particularly concerned for him. At least they’d
assured him that they would check out his story. Perhaps Kernaghan could
help after all.
Tony hid in the bushes of the park near the campus. He had been there
all day, watching the shadows of the afternoon slowly lengthening. He
used the cover of the evening to call on Kernaghan, but the guy had been
out so he was forced to take shelter. He was cold and hungry, streaked
with dirt and grime, and he was nauseous. The dial on his watch showed
half past nine before he watched with intense relief as Kernaghan’s car
finally arrived. The man got out and crossed the quadrangle toward his
apartments. Tony was about to make a lunge from the shadows, catch up to
him, and beg him for help, when he saw a second vehicle pull into the
car park. So he threw himself to the grass for cover. He could see a
woman getting out and vaguely recognised her as Alannis’ new Art studies
lecturer. She called after Kernaghan and they entered his apartments
together. Tony was surprised that such a young woman appeared to be
going out with a guy old enough to be her father. He cursed her arrival
as he approached
the building before him, staying in the shadows as he ran. He hunkered
down beneath the lecturer’s window to wait for an opportunity to get
Kernaghan on his own. His imagination had run riot since he ran from the
police station. He pictured his photograph being shown on hourly news
bulletins, wanted in connection for the unexplained disappearance of his
girlfriend. No such event had taken place, of course, but the overactive
imagination of the twenty-three-year-old fed for years ona diet of TV
cop shows and bad movies. It had generated such a degree of paranoia
that he believed every car engine or far off siren he heard was the
sound of pursuit.

*****

Alannis and Leanne were in fact stretched out on a large table,
unconscious and unresisting, as Damien began to fit them into the
matching latex outfits. He wanted to display them for the web page in
amore tortured way. He’d watched them for a while and they seemed to
have adjusted to their piercings almost too well. They had been licking
away at each other for a while, and they were clearly having far too
much fun. And that wouldn’t do. He resolved to rearrange them, into
positions slightly less comfortable. The youth of today— he thought
laughing to himself—they never failed to surprise him.
There was a pillar in one of the red rooms that was designed to impale
girls on its massive protrusions. Diligently, Damien held apart the
sweaty flaps of the unconscious co-eds and he gauged their pussy size
with a number of increasingly wide dildos. They were both, after all,
going to be impaled upon a fucking great big wooden cock for at least a
few weeks. So, in turn, the very least he could do was give them a prong
suitable for their particular elastic girths. He stuffed a dozen
different lengths each into the slumbering girls. They moaned in drugged
stillness as the thick phalluses were inserted. Apparently the
dark-haired one could engulf a much fatter cock than the blonde. Damien
chuckled in amazement to himself when he thought of the shrivelled,
pathetic stump of her boyfriend’s knob while he laid drugged on one of
the beds upstairs. He could only speculate on the inadequate shafting
that he’d given her wet bucket with his eager but quite useless penis.
Damien selected a pair of severe Basques for the girls to better display
their ample assets on the display post. They were made of heavy leather,
and tightened by four thin straps that encircled their waists. He rolled
the two girls onto their front sides and with his foot braced between
their shoulder blades, hauled the fastenings as tight as he could. Then
he threaded the buckles through their holes and secured the brutal
constricting harnesses about the two helpless young women.
He was quite taken by the beauty of the two playboy models in their
black rubber outfits, so Damien chose similar rubber sheathings for the
girl’s arms and legs. He rolled on the rubber stockings and secured them
to the girl’s trembling thighs with the thick suspenders that hung from
their Basques. He felt his cock pounding with excitement as he dressed
the lolling females. He pulled their breasts from the rigid cups,
ensuring that they stood proudly displayed and jutting out from the
figure-hugging constraints of the body-holding leather garments. It had
been quite a while since he’d sedated the girls and they were half awake
by the time he hauled their arms behind them and strapped their heels to
the backs of their thighs.
Alannis, finding that her tongue was no longer gargling on the end of
her friend’s drooling cunt as she awoke, licked her lips and her eyes
flickered open. Something was crushing the breath from her lungs and her
tits were bulging ludicrously forward. She blinked a few times to gain a
sense of reality, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes, but she was
unable to move her arms at all. She realised again that she was in a new
sort of evil bondage predicament. “Damn!” She thought. She was getting
quite used to Leanne’s drooling hole. Her friend had
quite delicious lips, and was as wet as hell once aroused. She tried to
glean her surroundings, but found as she was lying on her side, on a
huge worktop slab, she could only discern the dripping stone blocks of
the far wall.
A pair of unbelievably strong hands gripped her by the forearms and she
was hefted bodily from the table. She remembered with a start, the
half-glimpsed visage of the monster that she presumed held her and began
to shake with fear. The powerful hands lifted her before a huge wooden
pillar that rose like a sentinel from the floor. A second later she saw
the huge jutting wooden cocks that thrust around it’s middle about five
feet from the floor, and before she could scream a protest, she was
being rammed onto the enormous phallus, as if she were a living cork!
The massive wooden cock plugged her with a splat of pussy juice. Behind
her, the evil and yet supporting grip had gone. She was left to balance
five feet in the air on a wooden cock with nothing to prevent her from
cracking her skull open on the cold stone floor behind her, should she
accidentally tip back. Constricted as she was by the unbearable
tightness of the corset, her body wriggled like a twenty stone man ina
child’s sleeping bag. She felt her hot cunt slip down the monstrously
greased pole a few more inches and, she screamed with her mouth wide
open in protest. The girl’s noise rang out for a second before the mouth
was engulfed by a bulbous projection that muffled all sound and securely
gagged her as she tipped forward toward the display post. ; oe
She tried to rock backward slightly to free her mouth, but the
terrifying character that had planted her squarely on the impaling
mount, pressed a strong hand against the small of her back, keeping her
pressed forward. She felt a tug at her collar and heard the sound of a
chain snapping closed over a ring mount. “Fuck,” she thought. “I’m stuck
again!”
Damien fastened her to the display post and clipped the short restraint
chains to her collar and corset. The short chains were technically long
enough to allow the girl to lean backwards far enough to free her own
jaw from the projecting mouth plug. But in all of his years if
experience, Damien knew that few girls were actually willing, or even
biologically able to, allow themselves to slide down all twenty inches
of carved slippery phallus just to free their own mouths so they could
scream more clearly.
Damien dragged the blonde to the pillar, too. She was slightly slower to
recover from the knockout drug than the dark-haired girl, and
subsequently was only partly conscious as he centred her onto the
jutting penile spoke. He sadistically allowed her own body weight to
press herself down onto the carved wooden phallus with a squelching
sound. He clipped her to the shortening restraints, too, conscious that
the other girl was watching him intently. For a moment he feared that
the girl had spotted the access slit along the back of the latex horror
mask that he wore, thus spotting him as the fraud he was, and realising
that her tormentor was just a human and not a monster. But as he turned
to face her, she looked away and began to visibly tremble with fear. Her
breasts quivered like jellies either side of the display post. Damien
reached a hand inside the pockets of the black boiler suit that he wore
and removed two pairs of nipple chains. They were widely available from
mail order catalogues, but he had personally modified these sets. He
increased the constriction around each budding tit and shortening the
length of the restraint chains between them. Instead of applying the
chains between their breasts, he used the nipple chains to stretch their
swelling tits out either side of the post, tying each girl’s teat to
their friend’s corresponding mammary. He threw a switch, and the pillar
began to slowly revolve. It would look good on the web site, he thought,
as the delectable young women were displayed to their fullest as fuck
objects. He let them to it and went to the observation room to check on
the site.
Alannis had never been so exposed. Dressed in the rubber she felt a
number of strange sensations. Sie could glance down slightly and see
her own breasts jutting hugely from the cups of the Basque. The
compression about her waist and the deep penetration caused a singularly
weird feeling inside her and she felt a strange sense of arousal
growing. The huge phallus that she nestled on filled her deeply and she
began to crave release from the building pressure. Alannis squeezed her
vaginal muscles, gulping at the length to try and masturbate herself to
climax. Frustratingly, she fell short each time. She needed some further
stimulation. If only there was some way to get more friction, she
thought, or something in contact with her clitoris. But poised some feet
off the air, there was nothing she could frotter herself against to make
herself come. As she shifted herself about the pole, she could feel
herself slipping a little as the thing revolved. She struggled and felt
the pulling of the nipple chains that sent a stinging feeling through
her breasts. She gasped, “that was it!” She could enhance her feelings
by pulling her nipples. Occasionally she tweaked them during
masturbation anyway.
She contracted her pussy about the shaft at regular intervals and began
leaning back to send sensations tingling through her. Opposite, Leanne
looked on, mortified at the expression on her friend’s face, as she
realised that she was trying to bring herself off. She winced as the
girl pulled backward and painfully stretched her nipples. Damien watched
the monitors, impressed at how the dark-haired girl was responding to
bondage. He could see her buttocks quivering about the shaft as she
ground herself onto the phallus. He raised his eyebrow as he saw her
slipping another inch or so down the pole.
Alannis increased her pussy clenching, the glistening petals oozing with
love juice suckled on the massive phallus. She wrenched backwards, which
sent the nipple a teasing pain through her. She could hear Leanne crying
out in pain, but ignored her and concentrated on sustaining her pleasure
through orgasm. She closed her eyes with the effort, as she bounced on
the huge carved dildo, her large breasts slapping against either side of
the display post as she strained. Faster
she went, her pussy squelching on the shaft and her breath coming in
short keening pants. She began to gyrate on the pole, moving her hips in
a circular motion. First clockwise then counterclockwise, trying to
grind out an orgasm without clitoral stimulation. The smell of the
rubber as she sweated filled her nostrils with a heady plastic tang. She
remembered the smell vaguely but couldn’t allow herself to be
distracted. With a final gasping effort she clenched herself about the
pole and felt the orgasm wrack her body. The motions slowed as she
savoured the afterglow, her pussy spasming about the wooden length. Her
breath slowed and she felt a droplet of sweat roll down her buttock from
the small of her back. She was hot, the latex of her costume clung to
her and she could feel her hair plastered to her forehead. Her senses
slowly returned and she opened her eyes, dizzy and yet exhilarated. She
saw Leanne’s shocked expression. Clearly someone didn’t approve of
masturbation!

*****

“I made coffee.” David Kernaghan smiled, “just in case you thought that
my inviting you here was just a ruse.” His tone was jovial, and Karen
Anderson felt her cheeks flush, as well as her labia. She gazed into
those hypnotic blue eyes and remembered her offer to him on Friday night
that had ultimately led to the most intense and liberating sexual
experience of her life.
She found herself dreadfully bashful when under the spotlight of his all
knowing eyes and she giggled. “Thanks for leaving that message for me.
When you weren’t there that morning, I had my doubts.” She said as she
remembered the warm and apologetic note that she had discovered shortly
after waking and finding him gone.
“I know, I’m so sorry about that, but as I said, I really had to dash,
and well,” he paused for effect and turned to face her, “I couldn’t bring
myself to wake you. Your face was just so peaceful on the pillow.”
She blushed again. There was just something about the way he smiled,
boyish and yet mature, innocent and yet mischievous. Like Harrison Ford
and Malcolm McDowell rolled into one. He turned to her with a sigh, and
leaned an arm against the doorjamb of the kitchen and said, “look, let’s
forget about the coffee and just open a bottle of wine instead. I’d much
sooner get you drunk and make love to you. Or even take advantage of
your beautiful body, than have to perch on the edge of the settee and
kiss you with awful coffee breath, what do you say?”
She laughed and threw back her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know if
-you’re just talking the piss or if you mean everything you say!”
“Oh, I mean it.” He pulled a bottle of chilled white wine from behind
his back as if he was a magician producing a playing card from thin air.
“I hate the taste of black coffee on a woman’s tongue first thing in the
morning!”
She laughed and, rising to the occasion, having felt slightly reserved
and even prudish in comparison to the lewd antics of the professor, she
leaned back across his bed, allowing her breasts to bulge and press
against the fabric of her blouse. “A glass of wine would be nice, now
that I’m here. But,” she said, “aren’t you supposed to chat me up a bit
first, or else make a play for me? It is only our second date after all.”
“My dear, your sentiments are mine exactly, but there simply are no
words to adequately phrase the delectable worship I crave to bless upon
your naked form.”
“Oh, stop!” She laughed, “I can’t take any more cheese!”
“Cheese!” He feigned an expression of genuine hurt. “Cheese?” He
returned from the kitchen with a pair of wineglasses and sat next to her
on the edge of the bed. “The very love poems of Lord Keats-Byron
Cheese-Smith are hardly the words I would use to flatter a fellow mature
professional of the arts such as yourself!”
“Hey, who are you calling mature?” She scolded with a laugh. “I’ve
only just turned thirty!”
“Forgive me, young lady,” he smiled as he slipped a hand under her
skirts and caressed her firm inner thighs. “I only meant...” The
sentence was left unsaid, as he gazed into her eyes and felt her melt
beneath his touch. He could practically hear the girl’s heartbeat
increase as it pounded in her breast, beating out a tattoo of willing
submission. As he kissed her, he slipped his hand up her thigh, and
daringly higher until his fingers were inside the elastic of her
knickers. She gasped, and willingly parted her thighs slightly as he
dipped the tips of his fingers between the woman’s curled pubic hair,
feeling the hot, runny willingness of her sex.
As his fingers manipulated her, she felt an impossible swell of passion
inside her that caused her to gasp out loud. She feigned a cough to
disguise the embarrassing immediacy of her bodily lusts. But Kernaghan’s
all knowing Sean Connery eyes saw through her. Being the perfect
gentleman, of course, he refrained from noticing.
Regaining her thoughts, she tried to deflect his smile from the obvious
knowing look that she felt was sure to come. “I brought you a present.”
She smiled at him, and felt a warm glow spread through her abdomen as he
smiled in surprise. “Fuck!” She thought. He was so fucking desirable she
could literally forget about the speech she’d prepared earlier saying
how much she appreciated his welcoming her to the state, and how much
fun she had the other night, but she wanted a bit of space in order...in
order to what? “Fuck that!”
“A surprise!” He smiled and his blue eyes practically glowed in the
subdued lighting of the apartment.
Karen Anderson held out a pair of thumb cuffs that she’d bought as a
joke. “It’s nothing really! Just a little something for a laugh,” she
smiled and flicked a length of hair from her face. “Knowing that you
like bondage n’all.”
“Don’t you like it?” He asked in all seriousness as he delicately took
the small package from her fingers.
“Well, I’ve never really tried it. Apart from the other night.” She
added as an afterthought, feeling herself immediately aroused by the
memory.
“And didn’t you like it?”
“Fuck yeah!” She said, and he spluttered into his glass of wine. “Oops,
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to swear!” - -
“Hey, it’s okay, it just went down the wrong hole!” Kernaghan mopped his
chest with a tissue, then turned to the young woman that was
unwittingly, yet bodily, yearning for him on his bed. “I’ve got
something for you, too.”
“I know.” She said, slipping a hand down the front of his trousers
trying to free his pulsing cock so as she could suck along its throbbing
length. He twisted from her grasp.
“No, I meant that I had a present for you too!” Kernaghan laughed, “a.
couple of presents in fact!”
Miss Karen Anderson wanted to hide with embarrassment as the professor
rose from the bed and her hand slipped from is crotch. He returned with
something held in his hand. She reached for him and he allowed a set of
heavy, stainless steel handcuffs to fall into her grasp. She laughed for
a second as she compared the similarity of the gifts, amused that her
thumb cuffs looked like a miniature version of his. heavy steel ones.
She found herself suddenly aroused by the implication, and promise, of
what they could do together with such toys. “Are they real?”
“Yep! Genuine police issue. Let’s just say I have a friend at city hall!”
“You said a couple of presents?”
“I’ll get the other one out ina minute.” He sat next to her and began to
unbutton her blouse. She lay on her back allowing him unrestricted
access to her body.
Her heart pounded with excitement as she felt him part the silky
material of her top, and felt his fingers pulling her bra down to expose
her heaving breasts. He nipples were dark with tumescence, pointing
proudly toward him, a telling visual indication of her arousal. She
gasped as he craned his head forward and sucked at her nipples, taking
each one into his mouth and gently biting and sucking. She felt the
thrill of his touch sending waves of pleasure throughout her breasts and
between her legs.
Kernaghan trailed his fingers along her body, exploring the softness of
her skin and working his way down to her skirt. He removed her belt,
allowing it to slip softly to the floor, resisting the urge to whip her
writhing body with the broad leather strap. She raised her hips and he
pulled down her skirt exposing the crisp linen of her tiny panties. He
kissed her belly. Leaning forward, he felt her fingers running through
his hair, pressing his head further down. She lay with her knees spread
wide and with her head thrown back against the pillows. Kernaghan
pressed his face into the gusset of her knickers, breathing the musty
scent of her aroused sex. He hooked his fingers around the tiny straps
and pulled the garment down, exposing the already wet lips of her pussy.
She gasped in response to his touch as she felt her passion rise. She
desperately wanted him and she reached forward to take down his trousers
but he stepped back, evading her grip. He held up the small thumb cuffs
and dangled them before her, “not yet,” he smiled.
He knelt at the foot of the bed and stroked his hands along her calves
and kissed her small delicate feet. He attached the thumb cuffs about
her big toes and she giggled as the cold of the metal tickled her. She
tried to sit up to make herself comfortable, but the restriction of the
small chain between her feet left her unsteady, so she rearranged
herself on the bed. Kernaghan reached for the police cuffs and snapped
them about her wrists. She gasped, surprised at how heavy they were, and
found herself unsteadily leaning on her elbows. Karen rolled onto her
front and she looked up at Kernaghan with her eyes full of lust. He
stroked a hand over the swell of her buttocks, and she thrust her hips
out so he could see the glistening pussy lips. Kernaghan cupped the
pussy in his hand and slid his index finger inside the woman, feeling
the heat from her arousal on his palm.
Kernaghan reached to the bedside cabinet and removed a jar of massage
oil. He poured a syrupy line across her buttocks and began to smooth his
hands across the glistening bulge of her ass cheeks. She moaned and
gasped, her pussy dribbling with arousal as she craved his hot length
inside her. Karen was being teased and stimulated to near unbearable
lengths. His expert hands manipulated her thighs and buttocks, taking
her to the edge before drawing back and leaving her panting for more.
She heard a plastic click, then a buzzing noise. A vibrator? “That must
have been the second present,” she thought. She felt the hard length
enter her as he slipped it between the slick, oily cheeks of her ass.
She moaned aloud involuntarily with pleasure as the vibrations
stimulated the sensitive puckered flesh of her sphincter and down the
sides of her labia. With his thick fingers, he parted her buttocks to
get a better view of her pussy and pressed down on the plastic tool. It
slowly slid inch by inch inside her hot cunt. She whimpered and began to
move her hips back and forth to match the slow delving of the vibrator.
Karen felt her legs trembling slightly with the effort of holding them
in the air. But with her toes locked together, it would be difficult to
extend them evenly, as she lay sprawled on the bed. Her wrists had
warmed the steel of the cuffs and she felt excited by the abandoning of
all responsibility. She was at the mercy of his touch once more. This
time the bondage was made more real by using genuine tools of the trade
as opposed to the improvisational use of belts and stockings last time.
It sent a sexual thrill through her, matching the tingling intensity of
the plastic phallus, as it hummed inside her pelvis. The girth was
larger than hers at home, and her
pussy lips were stretched and pulled as he worked it inside her.
“Ooh, do it harder,” she moaned.
Kernaghan rammed it into her. The side of his fist was clenched about
the humming phallus, thrust like a hilt against the soft flesh of her
pussy, and came away glistening with love juice. He slid it out of her
again, slowly teasingly, fucking her with the tool. He jammed it inside
her and she squealed as his fist slapped home, sending a delicious
ripple across the exposed, oily cheeks of her buttocks. She clenched her
teeth as he fucked her with the dildo, gasping at each penetration.
Kernaghan could feel his erection pounding, insistently urging him to
bury it inside the girl, but he held back, wanting to tease as well as
satisfy.
“Fuck me, do it now,” she gasped, desperately wanting to be had by her
new lover. She felt his hands remove the dildo as she raised her
buttocks high off the bed, proffering her sopping wet orifice to him.
She anxiously wanted his flesh inside her, to engulf his member within
the liquid tunnel of her need and to squeeze every last drop of come
from his balls. But the cock didn’t slid in. Instead she felt his hands
stroking the smoothness of her buttocks, smearing the slimy massage oil
about her form. The pleasure was exasperating and she gasped and writhed
on the bed. Her cuffed hands gripped the sheets tightly, her buttocks
clenching and unclenching, all the time her body begged to be entered.
Kernaghan removed his tie. The woman before him was really hot and it
was making him unbearably horny. He was about to get down to business
when the intercom buzzer shrilly interrupted the proceedings.
Karen let out a frustrated squeak of exasperation. “Just ignore it!
Maybe they’ll go away!”
“Hold on a moment,” he said as he crossed to the intercom, cursing the
intrusion. “Who is it?”
“Sir, this is the police. Are you Dr. David Kernaghan?”
“I am, what’s this all about, do you know what time it is?”
“I’m sorry sir, it’s just a routine inquiry. I wonder if I could ask you
a few questions.”
Kernaghan felt a sudden lurch of fear inside. He regained his composure,
glad that he had shown no outward signs of discomfort to Karen, and
agreed to come to the door. He turned to the woman on the bed. “I’1l be
back in a moment.” She moaned and buried her head in the bedclothes. The
last thing he saw as he left the room was her ass arched in the air and
the angry red pout of her aroused pussy beneath. He swore silently and
pushed his throbbing cock down a trouser leg, it had been rock hard for
so long that it had begun to ache for release. If he was on the verge of
being arrested and couldn’t return to finish the job, he would go insane.
He took the steps down to the entrance porch two at a time, his mind
racing with possible scenarios to explain the arrival of the police, but
he couldn’t imagine leaving any loose ends in his and Damien’s elaborate
cover ups. He arrived at the door, took a moment to compose himself,
ensuring that his erection wasn’t apparent against the cloth of his
trousers, then stepped out to meet the officer.

*****

Tony pressed himself against the wall, out of sight around a corner from
the entranceway. He was barely breathing lest he reveal his position,
and listened to the policeman questioning Kernaghan. The officer
outlined the disappearance of the women, the vague recollection of the
man in custody, and asked if he had any information.
Kernaghan came across as enthusiastically helpful. “Well, I saw them on
Friday for a moment after classes. They were drinking some alcohol near
a van in the parking lot. I could see them from my windows but I
couldn’t tell you if they were under the influence or not.”
“The one who escaped custody, a Tony Spinoza, insisted that you gave
them locations to a house.”
“He does? Well, I can’t recall anything of the sort. Oh wait a minute,
yes, I gave a lecture that morning about architecture and named a few
local houses of interest. Perhaps that was what he meant. But, he’s not
one of my students.” He paused as if deep in thought. “The girls were,
though. It sounds such a tragedy. I do hope you find them officer, the
whole world is going crazy these days!”
Tony could not believe what he was hearing. Kernaghan was lying! The cop
asked for a few more details, the estimated times that he saw them, and
even warned him afterward to be on the look out for him.
“If you see him call us right away. Don’t approach him or let him know
you are suspicious, he could be dangerous.”
“Well, yes, they were both quite large, physical guys. The girls
wouldn’t have stood a chance!” Kernaghan looked concerned. As Tony
overheard, he realised that Kernaghan was trying to make him appear a
threat. He couldn’t believe it.
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions yet, we’re still only treating this
as a missing persons case. Thank you for your time doctor.” The cop
turned away and headed back to the car.
“What do you think really, officer?” Kernaghan raised his eyebrows.
“What can I say sir, life is cheap these days.” The cop shrugged. “I
hope we can get him before he hurts anybody else. There was evidence
that they were using controlled drugs and drinking. Pair of ‘em must
have been as high as kites all night. Please call us if you think of
anything further.”
Kernaghan waved and went back indoors. Tony felt an inarticulate rage
growing inside him. He thought, “Kernaghan did have something to do with
it! He was lying through his fucking teeth!” The one thing he could
remember was the description of the house. He closed his eyes and
strained, desperately trying to concentrate on remembering the night,
but again drew a blank. Cursing his inadequacy he turned
his thoughts to Kernaghan and why he should be lying to the police.

*****

Damien entered the first Red Room dressed as the monster, his glistening
face catching glints of wet light from the bare e!ectric bulb hanging
from the ceiling. Kerri and Shandi started when they saw him. He could
see their eyes widening in fear through the large eyeholes of their
tight latex hoods.
The girls struggled feebly, clamped as they were to the heavy central
beam of the seesaw, and poised above the huge dildos. He threw the wall
switch and the cantilever tipped on the left side. Kerri released a
muted scream as she was driven onto the prongs. She slapped down,
engulfing the huge dildos in one jarring, wet thud. The cheeks of her
ass wobbled on impact and her eyes widened in horror as she felt the
lubricated prongs ramming up her holes.
“Ummmph!” She grunted, heaving and straining at her restraints.
Shandi, mounted on the opposite end of the seesaw, rose into the air.
Her eyes were visible and startlingly blue against the blackness of the
latex hood. They widened almost comically in fear, as she saw the fate
that lay before her. She began to writhe and whimper, trying in vain to
fight her bonds, but the heavy strapping about both women ensured that
they remain securely attached. With a liquid slurp, the machine rocked
the opposite way, lifting Kerri into the air with a squelch and exposing
the enormity of the lengths she had engulfed. Shandi closed her eyes and
gritted her teeth as she was slammed down. Her helplessly offered organs
swallowed the huge well-lubricated wooden cocks, and she slid all the
way down. Her breasts, supported and thrust forward by the
figure-moulding corset, shook madly as she reached the bottom of the
phalluses. Kerri looked on from above, fearing her
turn next. Her sex organs were reddened and her lips remained slightly
parted even a few seconds after she’d been lifted from the prongs, as
the huge diameters enforced her dilation.
Damien went to the side of the machine to get a better look at Shandi’s
quivering buttocks as the seesaw lifted her upwards. He felt his cock
pounding away with arousal in his trousers and it was all he could do to
prolong the demeanour of being their supernatural tormentor, as he
watched the unresisting pussies being driven helplessly down onto the
enormous projections. He stayed for a while, enjoying the spectacle
immensely, listening to the creaking of the wood as the machine rocked
them back and forth. It was entertaining to see the expression in their
eyes the second before impact. He was reminded very much of a travelling
fair he had visited as a child. The sounds of the old rides as they
clanked along, thick chains black with globs of grease all came back to
him as he viewed the macabre seesaw. The only thing absent was the
unctuous smells of cotton candy and sawdust in the air. Muted pleading
soundeed behind his back as he finally turned away and left the tightly
bound pair thumping up and down on their dildos.


Chapter 8

RETGRN TO THE SHUTTERED HOUSE

“Don’t scream, please!” He said as he lunged from the darkness. ‘Miss
Karen Anderson stiffened as if a massive electric shock had blasted
through her. She felt the cold clammy hand clasp across her mouth. She
could even smell the wet soil on his fingers, yet despite her fear,
there was something desperate and pleading in the tone of voice. Tony
had pounced soon after she had left Kernaghan’s apartment. He had no
intention of hurting her but he wanted to discover the truth behind his
friend’s disappearances. She let herself be led toward her car, the
unseen assailant firmly guiding her, as if he knew exactly where to take
her. With horror she realised that the man who had hold of her must have
watched her arrive. She tried to put her hand into her bag where she
kept her .32 revolver for personal security. But it was over her
shoulder and clamped flat to her body beneath her arm where the
assailant held her, so there was no way for her to grab it. He guided
her into the car and took her bag from her. She thought about making
a break for it, trying to run screaming back to David. But the man never
released her arm. He made her drive out of the campus and onto the freeway.
“Look, Miss Anderson, I’m not going to hurt you, J just want the truth,”
he said, once they pulled over, a hundred yards or so from the campus
car lot. He took the keys from her. The young man looked familiar, but
she couldn’t place him. “I know you and Kernaghan are up to something.”
He said, “where’s Leanne and Alannis? What have you done with them?”
“Oh my God!” She put a hand to her mouth as recognition dawned. “David
told me about you.” A ripple of fear coursed down her spine and she made
a grab for her bag. He moved it quickly away from her grasp and looked
inside. “Don’t shoot me!” She whimpered as he removed the gun.
“Miss Anderson, I’d never hurt a fly, you’ve got to believe me!” He put
the gun to one side next to him, just a little too far for her to be
able to reach, and then held up both hands, to show her that he was
unarmed. “IT won’t harm you.” There was a desperate but pleading look in
his eyes that yearned for her sympathy. He was constantly teetering on
the verge of tears, but he kept sniffing back his sobbing pride in order
to try and state his case. The words came all at once and then
dejectedly trailed off. “Kernaghan! He lied! The cops too when we went
to them! Everything! And then everyone was gone! Even my Leanne! | was
in love! I just want to see her and hold her again! Oh God, what have
they said about me!” Tony slumped into the passenger seat of her car, no
longer able to force the desperate immediacy of his presence upon her.
Karen thought about dodging from the car, running back to the campus,
maybe snatching the keys from him, as this young man openly wept before
her, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon the desperate student.
“Look I don’t know what you want, but...” she began.
“Kernaghan lied to the cop,” he interrupted her. “He knows something.”
To Karen’s growing amazement, he told her in faltering detail of the
lecturer’s lies and everything else that he could remember. She listened
but didn’t want to believe. She still remembered her coupling with the
man not a half an hour ago. Her breathless wanton submission to him
while tied and bound. Handcuffed even, to his headboard as she’d felt
his ejaculate splatter her quivering buttocks. She felt him rubbing the
bulbous head of his dribbling cock over her behind, smearing his fluid
into her skin like an absorbent, even natural, skin cream. Yet now it
appeared that a penchant for bondage was not just his only secret. This
frightened, wide-eyed young man had implored her just to hear him out
before he let her go free. Yet despite his extreme means of getting to
her, pouncing on her in the night, she felt inclined to believe him. At
the very least, she believed in his sincerity. The allegations couldn’t
have any grounding in truth, surely, and she tried to reassure herself
that the man was delirious. But the sobbing and desperate conviction of
his broken words seemed to practically scream at her conscience, craving
even the very basic reassurance or assistance.
She was about to speculate on the matter further, when she saw a car
drive from the parking lot behind them in the rear view mirror. It was
Kernaghan’s! He told her that he had imminent work to do, which was why
she couldn’t stay the night. She was confused. David was supposed to be
in his apartment marking his student’s work for the month.
Tony saw the car drive past and glimpsed Kernaghan behind the wheel.
“Follow him,” he whispered. “Now!” He thrust the car keys into her hand.
She started the vehicle, put it into gear, and drove off with trembling
hands. She was feeling disoriented. The fear of being accosted in such a
way by the younger man had diminished somewhat, but the mysterious
behaviour of her lover certainly left something to be desired, too.
Perhaps, she reasoned, he was popping out for groceries or something
from a 24-hour mart. As the car ahead moved onto the
freeway, she knew that she was lying to herself.
“Stay close, but don’t let him know that he’s being tailed,” Tony told her.
“How do I do that?”
“T don’t know, you’ve seen Starsky and Hutch, haven’t you?” Tony was
becoming quite frantic. But the woman drove well, and before long they
were heading out of the city. Tony hoped that he would learn something
about his past. He apologised again to the woman for scaring her. The
last thing he wanted to do was alienate his only apparent ally.
Karen Anderson drove in silence listening to the young man begging
forgiveness and urging her onwards. She was no longer afraid of him
anymore. He had left the pistol on the dashboard, almost as if it was no
longer relevant. She would grab it the first chance that she got.
Whether his story was true—that somehow Kernaghan was responsible for
the abduction of a number of students and the subsequent framing of
their boyfriends—she didn’t know, but either way, she wouldn’t hesitate
to use the weapon on one of them.

*****

Damien peeled the mask from his face in the safety of the monitoring
room to answer his mobile. He had the ring turned off, but it vibrated
away in his pocket. “Yeah,” he growled, slightly aggrieved at being
disturbed halfway through watching such a magnificent display of bound
womanhood.
“It’s me, David.” Kernaghan spoke loudly, raising his voice above the
noise of the car engine as he drove. “I’m on my way out to the house.
The police have been round to question me!”
“Jesus! What did they ask? Are they on to us?”
“Don’t panic too much, but Mare Reeves seems to think that I had
something to do with the abductions, and they still haven’t recovered
the Milano boy.”
“That other little shit won’t stay on the lam for much longer.” Damien
laughed, “I’m gonna charge that fucker with everything I can possibly
think of tomorrow. Even for having bald fucking tyres on his van!”
“That’s what I like about you, Damien. You’re such a humanitarian.”
Kernaghan laughed dryly.
“T’ll turn off the alarms so you can come straight down.” “Cheers, I'll
see you in ten minutes.”
He drove on toward the shuttered house, his mind distracted and quietly
disturbed. A good deal more than he was willing to admit to himself. As
such, he was unaware that a car behind was following him. As he turned
off the freeway and drove to the woods he cast a cursory glance in the
rear view mirror. Nothing appeared to be behind him, so he swung into
the narrow side road and made his way up to the house.
As Kernaghan’s car drove into the woods, he was still tailed by Miss
Anderson and the dirt-streaked fugitive Tony Milano. The twenty-
two-year-old had urged her to kill the headlights, and for the last five
miles she had been driving on her nerves through the quiet winding
roads, following the splash of colour some hundred yards ahead that was
Kernaghan’s taillights. “Where the hell is he going? What the hell could
be out here in the woods at this time of night?” She whispered.
“I don’t know.” Tony peered into the inky blackness of the night
outside, as the gnarled branches of the trees seemed to encroach onto
the dirt track. He was glad of the relative safety of the car. “It seems
familiar somehow, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
The car ahead vanished into the darkness and their growing apprehension
increased. As they reached the spot that they’d lost contact with
Kernaghan’s car, Tony, by chance, caught a flash of red
taillight to his left. “Look, a side road, he’s turned off!”
They followed again in silence. The car crawled apprehensively along the
deeply rutted track, Miss Anderson almost too afraid to rev the engine
in case the sound should carry. They rounded a bend in the trees, and
could see straight ahead for a few hundred yards. Kernaghan’s taillights
momentarily glowed a brighter red as he put the brakes on. “Quick, turn
off the engine!” Tony urged and she cut the gas.
They could see Kernaghan illuminated by the glow from the interior light
as he stepped from the car. He looked back, practically straight at
them, but did not see them. They were safe in the blackness of the
forest. They both caught their breath, frightened by the man. Though
neither of them quite knew why it was so imperative to follow him. Tony
was clutching at straws and Karen had initially half-feared a love
rival. He had been quick to get rid of her after he climaxed. She had
expected a languorous and stimulating shower together or something. At
least to be given a chance to wash the massage oil from her. But instead
she had been shown the door and given a flimsy excuse. Was he seeing
somebody else? Was she being used? The doubts had surfaced quickly
enough as she followed him onto the freeway, but here? Out in the middle
of nowhere? How did that fit in?
Ahead they could see him glance around and then open a garage door ahead
of the car. It had been invisible from their vantagepoint in the
darkness. Quickly at a signal from Tony they both got out of the car.
Almost as an afterthought he pocketed the small calibre handgun from the
dashboard. Karen cursed herself for not reaching it first, but resolved
to side with the youth for the time being. After all, Kernaghan, it
would seem, was the one acting suspiciously.

*****

David Kernaghan tripped lightly down the steps of the garage, whistling
to himself as he arrived at the lower cellars. He ceased his whistling
and listened for a moment at the nearest door. “Ah, one of the red
rooms,” he smiled to himself. The twins must be on the seesaw. He could
hear the clinking of chains and the repetitive slap of female buttocks
onto varnished wood as the tilting cantilever alternatively rammed the
two girls’ cunts onto bulbous shafts. He smiled to himself and ventured
further along the dark corridor towards the heavy door of the control
room. Inside, Damien was pouring a couple of coffees.
“I’m in!” Kernaghan smiled and reached forward to flick a switch.
Outside, the garage door closed and locked itself automatically. Sensors
in the woods aimed at the narrow roadways leading to the house began to
aim infra red beams into the darkness, and any detected motion larger
than a squirrel would bring to bear a complex array of silent alarms.
Nobody would be able to approach the house within a half-mile radius
without the two men knowing.
Unfortunately for the lecturer and the police detective, the two
intruders were well within the seclusion zone. Tony Milano and Karen
Anderson slipped narrowly inside the garage door as it closed. Tony only
just managed to drag his leg inside before the massive door clanged shut
behind him. Inside the comparatively Spartan woodshed, they could see
the heavy fortifications reinforcing the wooden planking, and realised
that they were getting into something rather serious. Tony withdrew the
gun from his pocket. “Is it loaded?” He whispered.
“Of course!” She hissed, “why the fuck else do I carry it!”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He ventured.
“If you are thinking that perhaps Kernaghan has some serious skeletons
in his closet, then yes!” She peered down a steep flight of steps that
led almost vertically down into the ground. “Did you see that house?”
She asked, and he shook his head. “About fifty yards to the right! Out
there in the woods, there was a big old house.”
Tony stiffened. “A house! Kernaghan! It all added up!” But to what
exactly, he couldn’t tell. Tony peered out of a small grimy window and
saw a vague silhouette against the stars. He tried to probe his mind,
seeking a glimmer of recognition, but only an indistinct, hazy image of
dim corridors came to mind. He rubbed his eyes. Perhaps the place was
familiar; he would have to explore further. “I think, but I’m not sure,
that Kernaghan sent us all here last week. I can’t recall what happened
since, and I never saw my girlfriend again.”
Karen listened and for the first time felt genuine sympathy for the
youth. “Come on, let’s check out down here.”
He held the pistol toward her, almost apologetically, his eyes looking
hopefully at her. “Take it, I’ve never fired a gun before,” he admitted,
in an honest display of lacking machismo.
“Keep it! Neither have I!” The young lecturer smiled back at him, as the
few years separating them dissolved in an instant. She felt akin to the
ragged, desperate man before her, and suddenly felt an attraction for
him rising from her deep sympathy to his plight. Her slender hands
gripped his strong shoulders in reassurance as she hugged him with a
passion. “Look, let’s just see what he’s got down there. If we find
anything suspicious, I’ll come with you to the police to try and clear
your name,” she smiled at him, her synapses left hypnotically open by
Kernaghan to be subliminally responsive to male pupillary reaction, “and
I'll try and help get your friend out, too.”
His eyes threatened to swell with tears, but he flexed his gun arm and
forced a smile for her sake. “Thanks, Miss Anderson. I don’t know what
to say.” He felt the tips of the older woman’s breasts pressing against
him through the fabric of his ragged top and the subsequent stirring in
his trousers gave him the courage to press onward. He hugged her
briefly, and raising the small bore pistol, almost ludicrous in his
massive fist, they pressed onward.
They slowly crept into the cellars. The dank, cold walls dripped with
moisture and ahead, they could hear the clanking of chains. They had
gone about fifty feet beneath the ground, Tony estimated with a
mathematician’s learned precision and calculated accuracy. The passage
levelled out and the pair could see a number of doors evenly spaced
along the wall, as the corridor stretched into the distance. The first
door was just a few feet ahead and to the left. Slowly they approached
and listened to the muffled sounds emanating from within. He could hear
tortured gasps, unmistakably female, rising from the sounds of creaking
timber and the clattering of chains. He tried to form a mental image but
was unable to comprehend what he was hearing. Tony turned to Karen for
support and she urged him on. They both drew a deep breath, and holding
the pistol out before him, he slowly pushed open the massive, scarred
wooden door.

*****

“I don’t know, why are women’s cunts and ass holes so close together?”
Damien yawned in reply to Kernaghan’s self-ingratiatingly proud query.
“So when they’re drunk you can carry them like a six-pack! And,” he
laughed louder than was at all necessary, “apparently, they didn’t get
the joke because they don’t sell beers in six-packs in England.”
Kernaghan explained, in far too much detail, how he had failed to get a
laugh in the Oxford Student Union bar almost eleven years ago. By way of
equally unnecessary explanation, he continued: “Their beer cans are
larger too, half a litre each, and they often purchase them in trays of
twenty-four, or crates of forty-eight at a time if they had friends
over. For one night, I mean!” He continued sipping at his coffee, “well,
they drink so much anyway over there anyway, its no surprise. It seems
that there’s no taboo about alcohol at all! It’s a nation of lushes!”
Damien listened as the lecturer droned on, telling lame jokes. He was
tired and wanted to get home to bed after the long day he’d had
torturing the girls. Kernaghan began another anecdote about how so few
English people ever went to church, or believe in God.
“T mean,” thought Damien, “who cared what limeys were into? When you
could still own any number of guns as a metaphor for your own assertion
of freedom here! For fuck sake, we’ve been independent of those fucking
founding countries for over two hundred years now! Besides, the British
Isles were probably going to be the next star on the flag when the E.U.
collapsed under the imminent invasion of Eastern refugees of the Taliban
and the cripplingly restrictive economics of constantly having to
subsidise the lazy economies of the southern European countries anyway!
If you were going to have a continent pull together to form a coherent
union, then the least they could fucking do was have a common language.”
American English Damien laughed to himself.
Kernaghan, a misguided Anglophile, who had so enjoyed the intricate and
outdated designs of class and intellectual superiority during his
infrequent visits to England. He frowned at his friend’s seeming lack of
interest, when suddenly, Damien lurched forward and spat out a fountain
of black coffee. He dodged to the side and felt the spray of liquid as
it sloshed his shoes. Kernaghan had ninety percent of his next sentence
ready to say out loud, when he was rudely beaten to the punch line!
“HOLY SHIT!” Damien exclaimed.
“It’s not that surprising really!” Kernaghan muttered, shocked by his
friend’s reaction.
“Shut the fuck up! Look!” He cried pointing to the monitor screens on
the desk behind Kernaghan. He turned around and his jaw dropped. The
monitor showed the Red Room and the seesawing, rudely fucked twins, but
with Karen Anderson and Tony Milano standing and gawking at the sight
before them.

*****

Karen stood like a statue, repulsed by what she saw, and tried to
rationalise it. Certainly he was a fan of bondage, but she couldn’t
imagine anybody taking it to such elaborate extremes. The two girls on
the machine seesawed back and forth, slapping onto the dildos with
quivering buttocks and wobbling breasts. They looked down at the two of
them with pleading, tearful eyes peering from the strict confines of
their latex hoods, begging for the newcomers help. Their arms were bent
painfully behind their backs, and their legs were pulled high to make
their glistening red genitals more accessible. She had to look away from
the scene, appalled by the open vulgarity of the dribbling pussies and
the gaping, stretched-wide anuses of the women as they were lifted from
the prongs with liquid slapping noises enough to turn most any stomach.
Tony couldn’t believe his eyes. He recognised the girls immediately.
They were Shandi and Kerri, the centrefolds who had been recently
abducted. He had spent hours pouring over their magazine spreads.
Occasionally jerking off when he knew he was alone in the house. He had
often wished that the girls had done harder material, spread beaver
shots and maybe some full penetration video shoots. But he had never
imagined seeing such a tableau! They looked fantastic in their latex,
highly polished and glistening beneath the lights against the lurid red
brick background.
He stood for a moment marvelling at the huge dildos slurping inside
them, then realised with horror that Leanne could be here too. He turned
to Karen, and she looked back at him, her face contorted with disgust as
she tried to regain her composure. “Kernaghan must have
some sort of bondage games going on! He must have abducted the girls,
and drugged Marc and me!” He slapped a hand to his forehead as the
pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “The cop said that he was full of
amphetamine when we were at the station. We were tranquillised and
dumped miles from here! Come on, let’s see if we can find him!” He
hefted the pistol. “I’ve got a score to settle!” They went back through
the door and the twins whimpered as they were subsequently ignored and
left to the constant rocking back and forth in the clutches of the
sickening fuck machine.

*****

Damien scrabbled through his jacket, trying to reach under it and into
the pockets, as it swung off the arm of the chair. He still wore the
boiler suit costume of the monster disguise and consequently, his .45
was still lodged in it’s holster, inside the jacket, caught on the back
of his chair. He could hear the footsteps of the two intruders as they
approached the control room. Kernaghan had frozen in place, the half
drunk cup of coffee still in his hand. His usual composure was a little
dented as he realised that their being discovered was entirely his fault.
“Fucking move!” Damien hissed as he hauled the heavy automatic weapon
from the holster, tipping the chair and spilling the contents of his
jacket pocket across the floor in his haste.
Karen and Tony paused outside the next door as they heard a clattering
noise coming from the end of the corridor. They froze in the dark
passage as they saw the far door opening. They quickly ducked inside the
closest room, hoping that the darkness would cover them. Footsteps rang
off the stone floor outside as somebody large ran past. “That was
close,” they both thought, risking a glance at each other. They were in
some deep shit down here. Whoever ran past sounded too big to be
Kernaghan and for the first time, it occurred to them that the lecturer
might have had accomplices in fitting the kidnapped women into the sex
contraptions.
“Look, I’ve seen enough.” Karen whispered, “let’s get out of here and
call the police.”
He nodded agreement, finally seeing law enforcement ag potential ally.
They turned, and saw for the first time, the revolving pillar at the
centre of the room.
Two latex clad girls were bobbing up and down on large phalluses that
curved outward, impaling them as if on the horns of an animal. He could
see their buttocks clenching about the slippery columns, which were
literally dripping with female juices. Tony stepped forward, amazed at
the thought of so many elaborate scenes that must have been played out
in these expansive cellars beneath the house. Then he recognised the
revolving pair of young women.
His outstretched hand fell to his side, the gun slapping harmlessly
against his thigh. Tony’s mind reeled and he felt sick, as he watched
his girlfriend and Alannis, their eyes closed in Sapphic ecstasy, as
they both rode the revolving pillar. Humping the dildos themselves,
their nipples joined together with chains, as their breasts bounced and
slapped with each slippery jolt. They hadn’t yet noticed the new
arrivals and gaspingly strove to help each other cum with grunting
animalistic emissions of pleasure. He turned away and Karen held his arm
to support him as he visibly slumped.
She could guess the identity of the two girls even before she saw their
faces.
Damien swung his pistol at shadows as he ran about the seesaw looking
for the intruders. They weren’t there! He crashed out of the door and
pounded back the way he came down the corridor to the next door along,
the room with the college girls. He barged in and saw the intruders
standing there aghast.
“Right,” he said, “now to clear up some loose ends.” He had been
inwardly cursing Kernaghan for his incompetence, but the whole incident
really wasn’t much more than a hiccup to him.
“Glad you could drop by!” He laughed. “I was wondering where you
scuttled off to!”
The pair turned around shocked by their immediate discovery. Tony
recognised the cop immediately and he was stunned. The impact of the
shock seemed to knock the air from his lungs. This was the very same cop
who had arrested Marc back at the police precinct. Karen flinched at the
expression of the brutal man and saw the heavy pistol clutched in his
fist. Distracted from bringing themselves off, Alannis and Leanne opened
their eyes and saw the drama unfolding below them. With a cry of shame,
Leanne whimpered. She tried to look away from her boyfriend as she
revolved on the display pillar, while her open sex glistened and smelled
of her blatant arousal. Her initial joy at seeing him had been tempered
by the fact that he must have seen her and Alannis humping away with
each other on the machine.
Alannis herself was surprised at seeing such a scene and for a moment
thought that it was some hallucination. She had been in a state of
nearly constant climax for hours. After the first few orgasms she’d
given herself, she felt her nipples being pulled and realised that
Leanne must have seen how much fun she was having and eventually had to
join in. After all, it was better to try and make the best of a bad
situation. Leanne had orgasms quite a few times since, too. They had
been bouncing on the post together for hours and to be distracted by her
best friend’s boyfriend and her own Arts lecturer, Miss Anderson, was
the stuff of pure fantasy. She recognised though, the hulking frame of
their tormentor. “Of course!” She remembered, getting a whiff of latex
rubber early on in her incarceration, and realised that he’d been
wearing a rubber horror mask. She was sure that she’d seen the face
before, in one of her horror magazines. The reality behind the rubber
mask was scary though. If a genuine monster had held them, then the
subsequent purpose of their detention was unreal and alien. But now
that she knew for sure that it was just a creep in a mask, she
understood that it was just for titillation. Flattering perhaps, but
somehow as a horror fan, less exotic. Alannis would have preferred the
monster!
“You!” Tony was reeling. “You, you!” “Yes!” Damien laughed.
“You bastard!” He raised Karen’s pistol and began firing at the figure
in the doorway. 7
Damien dived to the floor as the heavy lead slugs smacked into the wall
behind where he was standing. Shards of stone shattered around him, some
gouged his cheek, drawing blood. “Fuck!” He would have to be more
careful! Still, it sounded like a revolver. Six shots, something with a
small calibre. He instinctively bent his wrist around the corner to
return fire with the heavy, fully loaded automatic, threatening to fill
the room with 9mm shells. But at the last moment, Damien realised that
he could hit one of the girls and have the world’s first live broadcast
Internet sex murder on his hands. He whisked his hand back, as a shot
smacked into the wood of the doorframe and sent a shower of splinters
across the floor.
Kernaghan appeared at his side, hunkered down next to the doorway,
ensuring that he was out of the firing range. “What shall we do!”
“Get the hypodermics and the tranquilliser quick! I like your taste in
women, but I don’t think much of her company!”
He counted off the last two shots from the small revolver, and stood up,
brushing the debris from the boiler suit. He entered the room calmly.
Tony snapped off empty rounds at him as the hammer of the revolver fell
on spent shell cases. He turned frantically to Karen. “I only had six
bullets!” She squealed. “I thought that would be more than enough to
deter a mugger!” ;
“Shit!” Tony wheezed.
“Let’s cut the crap, huh?” Damien stood tall.
“Okay, you found your
girlfriend. Nice going! I’m impressed. Only thing is, it makes life a
bit more complicated for all of us. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to work a
deal with you somehow.”
“Stay back, don’t come any closer!” Tony balled a fist, and waved it
threateningly before him.
Damien shrugged, held up his .45, and pointed it at Tony’s face. “Go
ahead,” he shrugged, “see if you can punch a bullet!”
Kernaghan arrived behind them with a small case. “Hi Karen. Fancy seeing
you here! You gave us quite a surprise.” He approached with his blue
eyes beaming. “Now, why don’t you hold out your arm and be a good girl!”
He raised a needle before him and gave it a small squirt to remove any
bubbles in the solution. Karen screamed.


Chapter 9

DELIVERING THE GOODS

When Karen Anderson came to she tried to orient herself but tipped
forward dizzily, she was cold and naked. Her knees ached and as she
opened her eyes and blinked. She found herself staring at dangling
chains and a stone wall. Where was she? What was she doing there? The
chemicals in her bloodstream had completely blacked out her memory and
she reeled slightly, feeling nauseous. She tried to stand but her wrists
held her kneeling in position. “What the hell?” She thought. She shook
her head to clear her senses and saw that her arms were trapped in a set
of low mounted mediaeval styled stocks that were attached to the wall
before her.
She looked down and saw with disbelief that her nipples had been pierced
and ringed, and twin lengths of chain led to straps that ensured she
wouldn’t be able to move so far as a foot away from the wall without
threatening to tear her own nipples off! She was forced into a kneeling
position by the height of the stocks and both ankles were securely
clamped by a set of broad leather cuffs. She was chained like an animal.
Or a mediaeval wench. ““Kernaghan!” She remembered. “Fuck!” Now she knew
why he was so into history. He had his own elaborate torture chamber.
She struggled frantically, snorting and wrenching against the bonds,
cursing the day that his powerful blue eyes had ever transfixed her
across the staff room.
A shadow fell across the wall beside her and she strained to turn
around. A monster stood behind her. Kernaghan in a cheap rubber mask.
She wasn’t fooled. She spat at him, her dry mouth sending a thick ball
across the room. He side-stepped it and hefted a cane before him. “Oh
no!” Karen thought, as well as bondage he was into corporal punishment.
The first few slaps of the cane across her thrusting buttocks went
unnoticed. Then as her skin warmed she could feel the growing, stinging
agony spread through her. She gasped at first, gulping for breath in
disbelief, and then screamed as the pain increased. Her buttocks tingled
as the red welts rose. From her kneeling position, she couldn’t help but
thrust her ass out toward him. She wriggled to try and give him less of
a target, but the chains pulling on her teats prevented her from moving
far. Kernaghan enjoyed the sight of her quivering buttocks and felt the
stirrings of an erection as he stood over the helplessly chained female.
He walked slowly up behind her, each step determined and measured,
designed to instil fear in the naked woman, and gripped a length of
chain that was lying spread across the stone floor behind her. He pulled
it taut and the links rattled slightly as he wrapped it around his fist,
taking up the slack. She looked down at the length of chain trying to
see where it lead, and saw that it appeared from between her legs. She
realised with horror that between her thighs a set of double pronged
dildos, aimed upwards at her tender sex, were rising toward her when the
chain stiffened. She screamed, “no!” The twin lengths made contact with
the outer labia of her vagina, and slowly began to penetrate her.
Kernaghan continued to reel back the chain, and once the quivering bare
flesh of the trapped woman had engulfed the first four inches of
glistening wooden shaft, he tied off the chain on the lowest peg of a
timber pole that rose from the centre of the floor. She gasped as she
felt her orifices stretched to eye watering dilations to accommodate the
bulbous lengths. The central column had five more pegs, each one
progressively higher. Kernaghan could tie the chain to any height he
chose, increasing the tension on the chain, and driving the block of
dildos into her further. Through bleary eyes, which threatened tears,
Karen saw that the chains on her leg cuffs allowed enough slack for
Kernaghan to physically haul her off the floor, and, if he tied it onto
the highest peg, she would be impaled on the full twelve inches of the
twin phalluses. She looked up into the face of the evil rubber mask, and
pleaded for mercy, constantly aware of the awful throbbing penetration
between her legs. She felt herself reflexively squeezing the muscle of
her pussy entrance about the length, trying to expel it from inside her,
but her own bodyweight pressed down against the prongs, ensuring that
they remained driven upward.
Kernaghan peeled the mask away slowly, revealing his face. He frowned
down at her. “I have to admit it’s crude, but effective.” He tossed the
mask to one side. “A pity you had to get involved, but what the hell! I
would probably have taken you here anyway, when I was bored of you as a
lover.” 
Karen opened her mouth to curse him, but before she could speak, he
hauled the chain back and the twin prongs plunged deeper into her. Karen
Anderson moaned, as she was lifted bodily from the floor. Her knees
splayed wide, and her hands clawed air, trapped as they were by the
heavy mediaeval stocks. Kernaghan saw her buttocks trembling on the
shaft, and her sphincter, forming a perfect circle, as the dark wooden
phallus bunged it. She slid down the dildos further and another inch of
shaft disappeared inside the helpless young lecturer. Kernaghan raised
the chain to a higher peg and tied it in place holding the woman
fully two feet from the floor. In another hour or so he would return to
see how she was doing, and then perhaps he would tie the chain to the
highest peg. By then, her entrances should be suitably bludgeoned and
dilated enough to accommodate the full length of both the glistening,
well lubricated shafts.

*****

The packaging of the twins began Tuesday afternoon after Kernaghan’s
classes had finished. The unexpected departure, amidst the dramatic
discovery of a suicide note, of Karen Anderson, had caused quite a stir
at the University. There was quite a conspiratorial buzz, only half
joking, as to whom must be doing away with the students and staff of the
campus. Kernaghan decided that it would be prudent to halt his harvest
of young co-eds for the time being until the palaver had subsided. He
was bold enough to make a few calculatedly failed attempts at jokes, to
lighten the atmosphere in the staff room. “Can it David! For God’s sake!
Have you no idea what their poor families are going through?” The voices
rang out against him. “I’m sorry guys, I feel as bad as anyone about the
whole thing, I was just trying to...Aw, forget it.” He had slumped down
into a chair and ruffled a newspaper. A young student teacher had come
over and tried to cheer him a little. “They’re all just a little tense
about the situation,” she said, and he behaved himself long enough to
muster a smile without using hypnosis or anything. There was no
suspicion directed at him, he was sure. His machinations had been
carefully planned, as Karen was always a potential candidate for the
amusement cellars, and he’d been prudent enough never to be seen in her
company.
Damien too had arrived that afternoon for the packaging in a large van
rented under a fake name, with a driving license, and documentation
papers created by the best forgers he knew. He had to deliver the women
to Stefan Weinberg the following morning and wanted to leave no possible
evidence that could be traced back to either Kernaghan or himself. He
had also spent the past few days building a portfolio of movements and
motivations against Tony and Marc, the victims of his elaborate framing
operation. Everybody else on the squad was totally unaware of the extent
of his corruption. He was an honest John about the police precinct, and,
as a rescuer of so many previous kidnap victims, he was actually the
/ast person anybody would suspect. Marc was going down for a long time.
And Tony. Well, maybe he would be found in a ditch somewhere, he hadn’t
decided yet.
The two whimpering girls were detached from the seesaw. The two men
carried Shandi and Kerri into the packaging room. The first thing to do
was to fit their special hoods. These were snug zip-up latex sheaths
that were designed to cover the girls’ hair and eyes. The pair was to be
encased into blocks of cold foam, skimmed with concrete to prevent
examination from curious passers by. The women, once bound and cast
immobile inside the foam core, with an oxygen tank, would look like two
rather large slabs of concrete. They would be inside the blocks for
about six hours all told, as they were driven to Stefan Weinberg’s
residence, the producer of their hit movie. What he did with them was up
to him. Sex toys no doubt. And a considerable step up from the
inflatable variety!
The first girl was held down and the seesaw mask pulled away. The much
heavier and restrictive transport hood zipped over her beautiful
features. The black latex covering left a large opening over the mouth
for the fitting of the air supply.
Once both girls were hooded, Damien and Kernaghan peeled their sweaty
monster masks off, knowing that the twins were now securely blinded and
had never once set eyes on them. Even if -God forbid- they were to
escape Weinberg’s clutches, they would be unable to give any accurate
description of their abductors. The red room didn’t matter, as it was
impossible for anyone to trace it to the house, as only a few
knew of the cellar’s very existence.
From the ceiling of the room, a large crane hung over the two halves of
- the block mould. It would lift the completed packages into a shaft
that led up to the back of the house. Since the blocks weren’t solid
concrete, they weighed considerably less than they looked.
Kernaghan took the first girl, Shandi, and stripped the rubber costume
from her, exposing the slick and sweaty skin beneath. She struggled
feebly, but Kernaghan was in no mood to be defied, so he wrenched her
arms roughly behind her back as he fastened a pair of heavy cuffs about
her wrists. The girl ceased her resistance and he set about his task of
preparing her for the mould.
The two men lifted her from the floor and carefully placed her onto a
frame. She was tilted backwards, her hooded face aimed toward the
ceiling, her hands locked into position on a frame designed to hold her
in position while the cold foam expanded about her and locked her into
place. Her legs were bent back to an excruciatingly severe degree and
her ankles clamped together behind her head. Her breasts wobbled as she
fought to free herself but the disorientation of not being able to see
threatened to cause her to topple from her frame—and it was only the
strength of the frame that held her upright.
Straps encircled her thrusting breasts and were hauled tight to cinch
them forward and into spherical, throbbingly painful orbs. They seemed
to almost balance on her ribcage, as her heaving body was lowered into
the mould. A canister of air like a diver’s cylinder was securely
mounted onto the frame behind her and a flexible rubber hose was
attached to a large, plug-like mouthpiece. Kernaghan held the woman’s
head firmly in the crook of his elbow and forced the air-hose into her
mouth. She struggled feebly, and before she could spit out the
mouthpiece, he pulled a set of straps tightly about the large plug and
fastened them behind her head. Finally, he plugged the woman’s nose to
force her to breathe through the tank and prevent her from inhaling the
foam.
An overhead nozzle was lowered and Kernaghan aimed it into the mould.
The cold foam frothed out like a liquid, but expanded about her,
squeezing between her limbs and trapping her into place. The foam
expanded into the mould’s cube-shape, and Kernaghan shut off the valve.
She was half-entombed by the block, like an unfinished sculpture. The
holding frame, her legs, and her arms from the elbows down were all
trapped inside the block. The rest of her, straining and heaving to
become free, trembled as Kernaghan playfully squeezed her nipples. He
smeared a release agent liberally across the face of the cube. It made
it easier to crack the two halves apart when she was delivered, and the
cold foam could be peeled away from her skin.
Once the block glistened with petroleum jelly, Kernaghan and Damien
heaved the woman back onto the floor and erected the sides of the mould
about her. They turned on the nozzle and watched as the second half of
the mould expanded about her smothering the remaining exposed flesh. Her
two wobbling breasts were squeezed together for a moment and then
finally disappeared from sight as the foam swamped them and filled the
mould.
“That’s it!” Damien smiled, and set about attaching the second twin to
her frame while the first block finished setting. Kerri had heard the
liquid slopping sounds from the foam as it splattered into the mould.
But with her hood effectively blinding her, the girl had no idea what
was to happen. She screamed and kicked, trying to prevent the grasping
hands from seizing her, but she was easily overpowered and fastened into
the backbreaking frame.
As Damien worked to secure Kerri, Kernaghan used the overhead pulleys to
hoist the solid foam block from its mould. He pushed it along on some
runners into the comer of the workshop. He was amused at the fact that
the core contained a helpless woman. He began to coat the exterior with
quick setting concrete. Behind him, the second mould was filled with
cold foam and the blonde centrefold was as securely encased as her
sister was.
Once the two cubes were finally finished
being coated with a six-inch thick layer of concrete, they were hauled
up to the cellar’s loading entrance. It was hidden behind the house in a
carefully placed tangle of undergrowth, and driven away in the back of
the rented van to rendezvous somewhere out of town for Weinberg’s
collection. Kernaghan patted on the concrete, thoroughly enjoying his
work. It was good to get his hands dirty now and again; at least it made
a change from giving lectures!

*****

Alannis revolved slowly on the display post. She’d given up hope of
being freed and instead allowed herself to enjoy the sexual abandon. She
was surprised that Dr. David Kernaghan had been involved. She always
found him to be curious guy. Once she said that she didn’t like him
much, only to have her friend Trudy defend him. She was almost
suspicious that Trudy had a crush on him, but as he was old enough to be
her father, she’d dismissed the thought. She had never imagined that he
could have been such an accomplished pervert. Another trembling little
orgasm moved through her and she lost track of her thoughts. Mounted
like a cork on a spike, she floated on the waves of numerous multiple
orgasms and enjoyed the intimacy of being alone with her girlfriend.
Leanne, too, had developed a deep affection for the post, despite the
unpleasantly large girth of the dildos. She saw the commotion earlier
and the gunshots disturbed her deeply. Now though, she enjoyed the
serenity of her position as a sex toy. Had she known that a dozen people
around the world were observing her over the Internet, then she might
not have sat so easy. As far away as Adelaide, Southern Australia, a
couple of young lovers had stumbled across the site. They had the
computer set up in the bedroom of their small flat, and watched in awe
as the camera relayed the image of the two impaled women. “Let’s try
something like that!” The girl said, flicking her long dyed-red hair
away from her eyes.
“Are you kidding!” The man laughed. “It would be really hard to
build something like that! Let’s e-mail them and see if we can borrow it
for the weekend!”
“Mm, Excellent idea!” The girl said, as she began to suck on his
throbbing cock. He sat back from the screen, and soon shot his load into
the pinkness of her open mouth. The thick white fluid pumped out and
oozed on her tongue.
During the fellatio, he watched the screen as Leanne’s buttocks clenched
and slurped about the massive wooden phallus. He imagined that he was in
the very same room. His girlfriend slurped and drank his ejaculate and
he finally tore his gaze from the monitor. “God! I'd love it if you were
on that!”
In Muscat, Oman, a rich oil magnate reached for a box of tissues. He’d
been logged on for an hour and decided that, after a thorough road test
of three exhaustive hand jobs, he would buy the display post and both
girls. Not many things in life had refreshed him so satisfyingly.
Besides, his harem needed a focal point. He pushed the tissues away and
sent e-mail to monsterbondage.com. He was a billionaire and massive sums
of money had long since lost relevance to him. He offered a cursory
million American dollars for each of the women, on the condition that
they threw in the post for free. He jabbed the send button with a podgy
finger and strolled downstairs to the games room to decide exactly where
he wanted the post to be put.

****

The morning glare made them shield their eyes as the construction wagon
hoisted the two blocks of concrete onto the flatbed of the van and drove
away along the dusty highway. The two men watched from
a glade of twisted trees a hundred yards off the hard shoulder. They
were securely hidden from sight of the two contractors who had arrived
to unwittingly collect the merchandise for Weinberg. If only they knew
that the silent blocks contained two contorted and securely clamped
women. But unless something really unusual happened, they never would.
The encased girls couldn’t move a muscle or make the slightest sound,
and even if they could, the concrete and foam would effectively absorb
their pleas. Both men could imagine the titanic straining efforts of the
soft female core of each block, and it set the blood pounding in their
veins. Weinberg was in for a treat when he split the blocks and revealed
two firm nubile women strained and arched into a helpless’ display. As
it transpired, he was so impressed he kept them both in the split moulds
for over a week.
The money for Sherri and Kandi, or whoever the hell they were, had been
transferred into their untraceable offshore accounts electronically, and
Kernaghan whistled to himself, unable to contain his buoyant good humour
on such a fine, sunny morning. He saw the e-mail from Oman earlier and
the pair had danced about the control room. The sinister house echoed to
their joyous laughter. There was a little work yet to be done, but by
and large, the pair would never have to work again. They still had to
orchestrate the shipping of the girls overseas, and collect the million
in cash, but the friends were going to enjoy the moment for as long as
possible before doing any more thinking. “Jeez!” Kernaghan thought,
“it’s going to be difficult to motivate myself enough to deliver another
history lecture.” Damien decided to book some time off. He was due a
month’s leave anyway, and maybe he would point to the stress of so many
unsolved kidnappings as a prime factor in his’ decision—an act of
supreme irony that would be lost on his superiors.
“So, yet again a consignment of beautiful fillies successfully taken
away then,” Kernaghan smiled and he threw back his head to let the sun
bathe his face. “Oh, I feel great! And to think that we’ve both made
another huge tax-free profit of at least, approximately, and with
seasonally adjusted figures, forty-eight thousand dollars each out of
them. Not forgetting our impending lump sum! And all for the smallest of
efforts on our part.”
They strolled back towards their cars once the truck was out of sight,
the hot sun warming their backs. “No effort! Are you kidding?” Damien
forced a laugh. He began to count on his fingers. “I almost got shot!
That little shit Tony Milano escaped custody! He turned your latest
floozy against you, and they both almost popped us! Not to mention the
uniformed guys calling round your apartments! Oh yes, and you actually
gave them a map straight to the house! Want me to goon?” He laughed.
“No, you can stop counting now, it’s all sorted!” Kernaghan patted his
friend on the shoulder. “Hey what shall we call the house next. It’s
been the Ogden house, Ye Olde Foundation, and the abandoned General
Newsham retirement home. What next?”
“Ah. Who gives a shit? Make something even more stupid up!” Damien
laughed. “Call it the Hammer house of fucking horror. I know I’m not
going to be ensnaring any more twats up there until I’ve hada holiday,
and spent at least half of what I just made!”
“So what do you reckon we do with that little bastard Tony Milano?”
Kernaghan leaned against the roof of his car as he slipped on his
sunglasses.
“How about we start a new web site.”
“What theme?”
“Gay bondage! We can stick things up his ass!”
“Will it sell?”
“He’s a jock! It’s bound to!”
“I don’t think he’d like that very muc
“Good!” Laughed Damien. “We’ll have to stick a price tag on Miss
Anderson’s page too, see if we can make a good sale out of her!”
“Hey, not yet,” Kernaghan sounded hurt, “I still really like her!
Besides, I haven’t finished with her yet!”
They drove off in opposite directions along the dusty highway, leading a
meandering route back toward the city. The sun shone down on the two
diminishing cars from a cloudless blue sky. Damien turned on the radio.
Drum and bass again. He cursed the faddish trends of modern music before
managing to turn the dial on to a station that actually played music.
“By rea/ musicians,” he thought angrily as he slapped his hands against
the steering wheel in time to the four-four beats. “Welcome to the hotel
Cala-blah-nia, such a lovely place,” he sang along. “Where I'll sit on
ya face!” He slipped on his shades. It was. going to be a good week, he
could tell, as a red convertible overtook him doing ninety. He felt
angry at something already!


FIN