Celticvirgin
Tribune
Just post the next fucking section.
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M
montycrusto
Guest
As you command, my ladyJust post the next fucking section.
M
montycrusto
Guest
Part 19
Dr Kay picked up the new sensor array. It had a similar leathery, strappy appearance to the old one, but was obviously heavier, and the leather was black rather than dark brown. The straps looked different too, they were more rigid somehow, and there were more of them. Also there were many shiny steel fastenings and rings attached to them, which glittered in the electric light of the cell. The helpless prisoner suspected the new helmet would be more of an ordeal than the old one.
Before fitting it to the girl’s head, the doctor took up a scraper and a towel, using the scraper to rasp away the depilatory cream, followed by the towel to clean off any residue. She could detect no sign of stubble on her scalp – it was as smooth as a bowling ball. The feeling of cool air touching her scalp was unfamiliar, and bewildering; she felt even more naked without her hair. She also felt less human, or rather, less like herself, less like Rachel Barnes, and more like some kind of laboratory animal, which, she supposed, in a sense, she was. Another part of her identity had been stripped away against her will, and she felt further removed from any chance of a return to normal life than ever. How could she ever explain this to her friends…to her family? Tears pricked in her eyes once more, as she realized how utterly into the power of these monsters she had fallen.
The Doctor lifted the arrangement of black leather over the prisoner’s naked scalp. As before, the main strap was one that circled her head from front to back, but this time the leather was thicker, and reinforced with strips of steel to which it was riveted. Also it was joined to many other straps that extended over the crown of her head from side to side and from back to front. These were all riveted to each other with strong steel rivets. She doubted these straps could even be cut with a sharp tool, since the metal reinforcement would prevent that. As before, straps hung down the sides both in front of and behind her ears, and she was suddenly reminded of the previous fitting, when she sat nervously in Dr. Kay’s office, shortly before Dane had arrived and everything had changed. As before, the fit was tight, but not uncomfortably so, even as he tightened the strap beneath her chin with a special key, fastening the new harness of straps in place. The key was placed back in the briefcase.
“I’ve taken some trouble to ensure that the electronic components are sealed away from the effects of moisture,” the Doctor explained. “Just in case you get wet.”
She looked up at him, assuming the fitting was complete, but he drew another component from his capacious briefcase, obviously part of the same ensemble, and began to fit it across her face.
“No,” she protested, turning her head. The Doctor waited for her protests to subside, holding the unfamiliar component ready. It was more or less triangular, with long straps extending from each corner. A triangular leather patch near the centre had a triangular hole in it, and next to that was a large shiny steel ring, fixed to two of the straps with rivets. She attempted to comprehend what it was as he brought it closer; it looked more like a piece of a horse harness than anything else. The Doctor used a ring on the top of her helmet to steady her head, while he attached one strap of the new assembly to the front of the main strap at her forehead. She whimpered in distress as she realized what the rest of it was for. The triangular part hung down over her face, its triangular hole accommodating her nose.
Beneath it, the large steel ring hung in front of her mouth. The girl had never seen a ring gag before, but instinctively guessed its purpose, and squirmed, mewling, while keeping her mouth clamped tight shut. Her manacles clashed together behind her back as she struggled, uselessly. The doctor held her head by the ring set into the top of the harness, and waited, as before, for her struggles to subside. She was becoming weaker, and he knew exactly how to get her mouth open. Squeezing her cheeks hard, he flicked the cane across her nipples. The prisoner shouted in surprise and pain, and he pushed his fingers grimly into her cheeks, so that she could no longer close her mouth without biting herself. He used both hands to work at separating her jaws, until he could he push the upright ring inside her mouth and behind her teeth, wedging her mouth open. She wailed in distress, realizing that she was losing the right to close her own mouth, and possibly the power of intelligible speech as well. So quickly were her freedoms being stripped away from her! The remaining two straps led out sideways from the ring, and fastened tightly on to the harness at the back of her head. Where they crossed the vertical straps that descended in front of and behind the prisoner’s ears, attachment points joined all the crossing straps together. All the joints were clicked shut, and tightened with a special tool, a kind of star-shaped spanner that she had never seen before. And the head harness was complete, and immovable.
Dr Kay picked up the new sensor array. It had a similar leathery, strappy appearance to the old one, but was obviously heavier, and the leather was black rather than dark brown. The straps looked different too, they were more rigid somehow, and there were more of them. Also there were many shiny steel fastenings and rings attached to them, which glittered in the electric light of the cell. The helpless prisoner suspected the new helmet would be more of an ordeal than the old one.
Before fitting it to the girl’s head, the doctor took up a scraper and a towel, using the scraper to rasp away the depilatory cream, followed by the towel to clean off any residue. She could detect no sign of stubble on her scalp – it was as smooth as a bowling ball. The feeling of cool air touching her scalp was unfamiliar, and bewildering; she felt even more naked without her hair. She also felt less human, or rather, less like herself, less like Rachel Barnes, and more like some kind of laboratory animal, which, she supposed, in a sense, she was. Another part of her identity had been stripped away against her will, and she felt further removed from any chance of a return to normal life than ever. How could she ever explain this to her friends…to her family? Tears pricked in her eyes once more, as she realized how utterly into the power of these monsters she had fallen.
The Doctor lifted the arrangement of black leather over the prisoner’s naked scalp. As before, the main strap was one that circled her head from front to back, but this time the leather was thicker, and reinforced with strips of steel to which it was riveted. Also it was joined to many other straps that extended over the crown of her head from side to side and from back to front. These were all riveted to each other with strong steel rivets. She doubted these straps could even be cut with a sharp tool, since the metal reinforcement would prevent that. As before, straps hung down the sides both in front of and behind her ears, and she was suddenly reminded of the previous fitting, when she sat nervously in Dr. Kay’s office, shortly before Dane had arrived and everything had changed. As before, the fit was tight, but not uncomfortably so, even as he tightened the strap beneath her chin with a special key, fastening the new harness of straps in place. The key was placed back in the briefcase.
“I’ve taken some trouble to ensure that the electronic components are sealed away from the effects of moisture,” the Doctor explained. “Just in case you get wet.”
She looked up at him, assuming the fitting was complete, but he drew another component from his capacious briefcase, obviously part of the same ensemble, and began to fit it across her face.
“No,” she protested, turning her head. The Doctor waited for her protests to subside, holding the unfamiliar component ready. It was more or less triangular, with long straps extending from each corner. A triangular leather patch near the centre had a triangular hole in it, and next to that was a large shiny steel ring, fixed to two of the straps with rivets. She attempted to comprehend what it was as he brought it closer; it looked more like a piece of a horse harness than anything else. The Doctor used a ring on the top of her helmet to steady her head, while he attached one strap of the new assembly to the front of the main strap at her forehead. She whimpered in distress as she realized what the rest of it was for. The triangular part hung down over her face, its triangular hole accommodating her nose.
Beneath it, the large steel ring hung in front of her mouth. The girl had never seen a ring gag before, but instinctively guessed its purpose, and squirmed, mewling, while keeping her mouth clamped tight shut. Her manacles clashed together behind her back as she struggled, uselessly. The doctor held her head by the ring set into the top of the harness, and waited, as before, for her struggles to subside. She was becoming weaker, and he knew exactly how to get her mouth open. Squeezing her cheeks hard, he flicked the cane across her nipples. The prisoner shouted in surprise and pain, and he pushed his fingers grimly into her cheeks, so that she could no longer close her mouth without biting herself. He used both hands to work at separating her jaws, until he could he push the upright ring inside her mouth and behind her teeth, wedging her mouth open. She wailed in distress, realizing that she was losing the right to close her own mouth, and possibly the power of intelligible speech as well. So quickly were her freedoms being stripped away from her! The remaining two straps led out sideways from the ring, and fastened tightly on to the harness at the back of her head. Where they crossed the vertical straps that descended in front of and behind the prisoner’s ears, attachment points joined all the crossing straps together. All the joints were clicked shut, and tightened with a special tool, a kind of star-shaped spanner that she had never seen before. And the head harness was complete, and immovable.
Celticvirgin
Tribune
Thank you. Jeez!
M
montycrusto
Guest
oh, he's not done with her yet....
Celticvirgin
Tribune
I have seriously bad feelings for Rachel. When introduced to us in this story she reminded me a bit of myself. Same kinda style and I'd be interested as she is. Now I am afraid for her life! I hope she doesn't die. Maybe that's the difference when the stories are modern. They're too believable. And yes I realise the irony that I'm writing my own story at present!
M
montycrusto
Guest
yeah, she's being swept quickly into deeper water... told you the half-way point marked a big change. What, I didn't tell you ? Well, I meant to.
M
montycrusto
Guest
Part 20
The prisoner’s tightly harnessed head lolled in shock at what had been done to her; she tried to beg and plead, but no recognizable words could she form, with the steel ring holding her mouth open. Only inarticulate noises issued from her open mouth, as did a strand of saliva that coursed down her chin and on to her whip-marked breast.
“You sound like an animal, Prisoner Twelve,” the Doctor remarked, “and that reminds me…” he searched through his bag, finding a small shiny device mounted on a strap, which he dangled in front of her eyes. A hook of some kind - a double hook? “Another anchorage point, to keep everything in place.” He pushed the two steel prongs up her nose, one in each nostril. She moaned as he pulled up the attached strap, and locked it to the harness on top of her head, fiddling with a small connection as he did so. The nose hook pulled her nostrils up, making her face look a little like that of a pig.
“Ngaah ha, aya ngaah” was about all she could manage to say in protest. The Doctor patted her on the head, and said,
“I’m rather proud of that device actually. It’s now connected to the battery that powers your sensor array. I got the idea from my cousin, who has a dog that wouldn’t stop barking. He got so fed up with it, he went and bought one of those shock-collars, you know, activated by sound. That dog is now a model of obedience. I thought the same principle might be useful in this case, as well. Let’s test it, shall we?”
He picked up the cane, and she moaned in terrified anticipation.
“No, not loud enough, my dear. Let’s try a little louder.”
He swiped the cane across her nipples, stinging her. She cried out, and was immediately blasted with a painful electric shock delivered deep into her nose by the nose-hook. The pain made her cry out again, causing another devastating electric shock. She fought to control herself, moaning softly.
“Very good, Prisoner Twelve, you catch on quickly. It is activated by vibration from your vocal chords, as well as by sound level, so it shouldn’t be triggered by any loud ambient noise, you’ll be glad to hear. Only by your own screams. I suggest you learn the art of suffering in silence.”
She groaned quietly, trying to form coherent words, to beg to be released, but could only produce a string of noises, as before.
“lerrgh nerr gah, hlerr”
“Very well, Prisoner Twelve. It will be my pleasure. Let’s see what the sensors make of this, shall we?”
He stepped in front of the bound, kneeling girl, and, to her horror, loosened his trousers, drawing forth an aging but perfectly serviceable and rapidly hardening penis.
The prisoner thrashed in her chains, shaking her head violently. “Ngaah!” Her nose exploded in pain once more, causing another short cycle of screams and shocks, until she managed to control her cries and break the cycle.
“There, there,” he cooed, “don’t worry, the electrodes are so deep in your nose, there’s no danger of me getting a shock.” He placed his hands around her harnessed head – the steel rings that were mounted on it enabled him easily to hold it steady, as he plunged his cock into her defenceless mouth, buffeting aside her wild tongue and knocking at the fleshy gates of her throat. Her eyes bulged as her inarticulate protests turned to choking gurgles; she was soon fighting for breath, as the man’s cock flexed and twitched in the soft tissues at the back of her throat, and her whole body jerked and danced on its pole as if it too had been electrified. The Doctor withdrew just enough to let her catch a breath, before choking her again with his cock, enjoying the mounting desperation in his victim’s movements as she fought to get air past the blockage. Her nose, distended upwards by the cruel nose-hook, was mashed into his pubic hair, forcing the steel prongs deeper into her nostrils, and her tongue danced about around the Doctor’s member, as if trying to dislodge it from her wind-pipe.
“That’s good, little pig, keep doing that,” he said, pulling back an inch or so with a loud sucking noise as her wind-pipe cleared; she coughed and gurgled, seizing a desperate breath as his cock explored her mouth and tongue, before it rammed back into her throat and cut off her air once more. The Doctor began moving in and out rhythmically, still controlling her harnessed head easily with his hands. Shackled in strappado over the steel bar, her ankles hog-tied to her wrists, and her mouth wedged open by a steel ring gag, there was absolutely nothing the victim could do to prevent her assailant from ravaging her throat for as long as he chose.
Suddenly he grabbed her head tightly and pulled her towards him, crushing her nose once more into his pubes, as his cock flexed and throbbed, and he ejaculated, sighing as he pumped his load of gelatinous semen into the helpless prisoner’s throat. Quickly he drew from his pocket an inflatable rubber gag. Withdrawing his cock from the girl’s slime-filled mouth, he stuffed the rubber form in through the ring gag, and used the attached bulb to inflate it, quickly filling her mouth and preventing her from spitting out his seed. He detached the bulb and short hose, wiped himself clean with a handkerchief and did up his trousers.
“I’m afraid you’ll just have to swallow that lot, piggy,” The prisoner knelt, sucking loud breaths of air in through her nose, pulled up hard by the nose-hook. “I’ve been saving that for you for a long time - your first bucket of swill, but certainly not your last.”
The girl’s tears trickled down her bulging cheeks, her pink shiny scalp showing here and there between the thick straps of the head harness. She attempted one last time to speak, but all she could produce was a soft grunting sound. He took in her trembling form, kneeling in a pile of her own cut hair yet also painfully hanging by the elbows from the metal bar. Her tits and the soles of her feet had been striped with whip marks, and her chains jingled as she squirmed on the pole, trying to find any position that was not agony.
“Good little pig,” he said once more, “Mr Dane will be along to play with you soon, and give you your lunch. Personally, I don’t think he will recognize you. You can show him your new toys! See you later, little pig!”
The prisoner’s tightly harnessed head lolled in shock at what had been done to her; she tried to beg and plead, but no recognizable words could she form, with the steel ring holding her mouth open. Only inarticulate noises issued from her open mouth, as did a strand of saliva that coursed down her chin and on to her whip-marked breast.
“You sound like an animal, Prisoner Twelve,” the Doctor remarked, “and that reminds me…” he searched through his bag, finding a small shiny device mounted on a strap, which he dangled in front of her eyes. A hook of some kind - a double hook? “Another anchorage point, to keep everything in place.” He pushed the two steel prongs up her nose, one in each nostril. She moaned as he pulled up the attached strap, and locked it to the harness on top of her head, fiddling with a small connection as he did so. The nose hook pulled her nostrils up, making her face look a little like that of a pig.
“Ngaah ha, aya ngaah” was about all she could manage to say in protest. The Doctor patted her on the head, and said,
“I’m rather proud of that device actually. It’s now connected to the battery that powers your sensor array. I got the idea from my cousin, who has a dog that wouldn’t stop barking. He got so fed up with it, he went and bought one of those shock-collars, you know, activated by sound. That dog is now a model of obedience. I thought the same principle might be useful in this case, as well. Let’s test it, shall we?”
He picked up the cane, and she moaned in terrified anticipation.
“No, not loud enough, my dear. Let’s try a little louder.”
He swiped the cane across her nipples, stinging her. She cried out, and was immediately blasted with a painful electric shock delivered deep into her nose by the nose-hook. The pain made her cry out again, causing another devastating electric shock. She fought to control herself, moaning softly.
“Very good, Prisoner Twelve, you catch on quickly. It is activated by vibration from your vocal chords, as well as by sound level, so it shouldn’t be triggered by any loud ambient noise, you’ll be glad to hear. Only by your own screams. I suggest you learn the art of suffering in silence.”
She groaned quietly, trying to form coherent words, to beg to be released, but could only produce a string of noises, as before.
“lerrgh nerr gah, hlerr”
“Very well, Prisoner Twelve. It will be my pleasure. Let’s see what the sensors make of this, shall we?”
He stepped in front of the bound, kneeling girl, and, to her horror, loosened his trousers, drawing forth an aging but perfectly serviceable and rapidly hardening penis.
The prisoner thrashed in her chains, shaking her head violently. “Ngaah!” Her nose exploded in pain once more, causing another short cycle of screams and shocks, until she managed to control her cries and break the cycle.
“There, there,” he cooed, “don’t worry, the electrodes are so deep in your nose, there’s no danger of me getting a shock.” He placed his hands around her harnessed head – the steel rings that were mounted on it enabled him easily to hold it steady, as he plunged his cock into her defenceless mouth, buffeting aside her wild tongue and knocking at the fleshy gates of her throat. Her eyes bulged as her inarticulate protests turned to choking gurgles; she was soon fighting for breath, as the man’s cock flexed and twitched in the soft tissues at the back of her throat, and her whole body jerked and danced on its pole as if it too had been electrified. The Doctor withdrew just enough to let her catch a breath, before choking her again with his cock, enjoying the mounting desperation in his victim’s movements as she fought to get air past the blockage. Her nose, distended upwards by the cruel nose-hook, was mashed into his pubic hair, forcing the steel prongs deeper into her nostrils, and her tongue danced about around the Doctor’s member, as if trying to dislodge it from her wind-pipe.
“That’s good, little pig, keep doing that,” he said, pulling back an inch or so with a loud sucking noise as her wind-pipe cleared; she coughed and gurgled, seizing a desperate breath as his cock explored her mouth and tongue, before it rammed back into her throat and cut off her air once more. The Doctor began moving in and out rhythmically, still controlling her harnessed head easily with his hands. Shackled in strappado over the steel bar, her ankles hog-tied to her wrists, and her mouth wedged open by a steel ring gag, there was absolutely nothing the victim could do to prevent her assailant from ravaging her throat for as long as he chose.
Suddenly he grabbed her head tightly and pulled her towards him, crushing her nose once more into his pubes, as his cock flexed and throbbed, and he ejaculated, sighing as he pumped his load of gelatinous semen into the helpless prisoner’s throat. Quickly he drew from his pocket an inflatable rubber gag. Withdrawing his cock from the girl’s slime-filled mouth, he stuffed the rubber form in through the ring gag, and used the attached bulb to inflate it, quickly filling her mouth and preventing her from spitting out his seed. He detached the bulb and short hose, wiped himself clean with a handkerchief and did up his trousers.
“I’m afraid you’ll just have to swallow that lot, piggy,” The prisoner knelt, sucking loud breaths of air in through her nose, pulled up hard by the nose-hook. “I’ve been saving that for you for a long time - your first bucket of swill, but certainly not your last.”
The girl’s tears trickled down her bulging cheeks, her pink shiny scalp showing here and there between the thick straps of the head harness. She attempted one last time to speak, but all she could produce was a soft grunting sound. He took in her trembling form, kneeling in a pile of her own cut hair yet also painfully hanging by the elbows from the metal bar. Her tits and the soles of her feet had been striped with whip marks, and her chains jingled as she squirmed on the pole, trying to find any position that was not agony.
“Good little pig,” he said once more, “Mr Dane will be along to play with you soon, and give you your lunch. Personally, I don’t think he will recognize you. You can show him your new toys! See you later, little pig!”
Tree is not a fan of extreme torture (yes he crucifies women) but your story is well written.
If you have ever spent anytime jailed and handcuffed (Yes I have and no that is all I will share) much of this is totally unnecessary...
Tree
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Hondoboot2
QUAESTOR PULCHRITUDINIS
Your writing is phenomenal montycrusto, keep telling the story, but I am starting to feel sorry for this poor girl. For me consensual erotic torture is one thing, but gratuitous brutality and rape is a big turn off for me. I am starting to feel like I want to rescue her, and beat the living shit out of these brutes.....no offense, it is just me, not into it anymore, not my cup of tea...not erotic to me at all. I get the same feeling with some of Quoom's works. Some I find erotic, and some seem just brutal, for shock value, with absolutely no eroticism to it.
This is not a negative review of your work, it is just my personal views on eroticism.
This is not a negative review of your work, it is just my personal views on eroticism.
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M
montycrusto
Guest
Wow, seems like I have suddenly crossed a line. Cruxforum is shocked! Perhaps I will take a little break; there are many more chapters (I have written up to chapter 31), and I would be happy to consider sharing them by private message rather than posting them openly, if anyone is keen to see what happens next. I certainly don't want to offend you guys. Thank you for your comments!
Monty
Celticvirgin
Tribune
I don't want you to not post the story. If you didn't get any response from me it is because I did find what happened in 20 upsetting. But I care now for Rachel and want to know the ending. I only speak for myself obviously. It is captivating if unsettling reading.
Hondoboot2
QUAESTOR PULCHRITUDINIS
Please keep posting montycrusto, don't stop. In my comment I said your writing was great, and to keep telling the story. To me, you have not crossed any line. I only commented about my personal view. The story is just not to my taste. I bet there are many other members who love this kind of story, it is just not my style. I really liked your crux story on the other thread you started
Now complete your story please
M
montycrusto
Guest
It's such a personal thing, this eroticism, isn't it. Like art, or music. I won't ask you to pinpoint what it is you don't like, I accept people have different tastes. This story was always bound for a dark place; I can see the light at the end, but readers of course cannot. Thanks for your kind words, Hondo!Please keep posting montycrusto, don't stop. In my comment I said your writing was great, and to keep telling the story. To me, you have not crossed any line. I only commented about my personal view. The story is just not to my taste. I bet there are many other members who love this kind of story, it is just not my style. I really liked your crux story on the other thread you started
Now complete your story please
Disappointed about the hair cutting though... doesn't excite me....but better things to come, I am sure
Barb complains about everything!!!
No you have not crossed any line... We all have different 'kinks'. I'm not into tit-torture, bloody whips, and nose hooks. However I find the head shaving an excellent humiliation...
Carry on, sir!!!
M
montycrusto
Guest
Thanks Tree, I will do so
M
montycrusto
Guest
Part 21
Prisoner Twelve knelt in her chains with a foul taste in her mouth. She writhed, arching her back to relieve her stiffness. Her jaw ached, her nose hurt, and the whip marks on her tits and the soles of her feet were throbbing. But the worst thing was the pain in her shoulders, as her arms were twisted up behind her and hooked over the bar of the frame. She wept at the turn her fortunes had taken; she had hoped to recruit the doctor, and force him to help her escape. Instead she was still kneeling in chains, but now harnessed, whipped and shorn like an animal.
It was almost with relief that she saw her jailer return, carrying a plastic bowl as before. He placed it on the floor and stood in front of her, inspecting the Doctor’s handiwork.
“Wow, Twelve, the doc did a real number on you, didn’t he? And you thought I was your worst problem!” He took in her whipped feet and breasts, her newly shaven head, and the cruel head harness with its nose hook and ring gag distorting her features, and whistled a long, low whistle. “Poor baby… what has he done to you?” Dane removed her inflatable gag, and she sucked in deep grateful breaths through her mouth, still wedged open by the ring.
“Guess you won’t be saying so fucking much from now on. That’s good though. Leaves your mouth free for more useful purposes, right?”
He picked up the bowl containing her food.
“Are you hungry, Twelve? Want some pigswill?” she nodded as best she could. She was even hungry enough for porridge, if that’s what she was being given. If that meant being spoon-fed through a steel ring by a rapist, then so be it.
It turned out to be soup, and she swallowed it hungrily, gratefully. Dane was excessively patient, wiping her cheek and chin, and making sure she didn’t choke. After the meal, the jailer carefully unchained her from her stress position over the whipping frame. She stood slowly, cautiously, wincing at the pain in the soles of her whipped feet, so he picked her up and carried her gently to the steel bed, where he sat her on the edge, leaning her against his own body for support.
She was exhausted, and sat passively as Dane unlocked her wrists behind her, leaving the individual manacles still locked on her wrists, and drew them to the front. He then wrapped a light chain round her waist, and padlocked it, before locking her wrists to that.
“Dr. Kay wants me to keep you with your arms behind you. But this does the same job, and it will be easier for you to sleep.” She half-listened, as he lifted her legs up on to the bed, laying her gently on her back. Some part of her registered that in some small way, he had shown that he cared about her comfort. After her night in the cage, and her morning slung over the whipping frame, just lying on her back, even on a metal bed, felt like luxury, and as she drifted off into a light doze, she was dimly aware of her jailer treating her wounded feet with a soothing cream, and humming as he massaged away the pain…
Prisoner Twelve knelt in her chains with a foul taste in her mouth. She writhed, arching her back to relieve her stiffness. Her jaw ached, her nose hurt, and the whip marks on her tits and the soles of her feet were throbbing. But the worst thing was the pain in her shoulders, as her arms were twisted up behind her and hooked over the bar of the frame. She wept at the turn her fortunes had taken; she had hoped to recruit the doctor, and force him to help her escape. Instead she was still kneeling in chains, but now harnessed, whipped and shorn like an animal.
It was almost with relief that she saw her jailer return, carrying a plastic bowl as before. He placed it on the floor and stood in front of her, inspecting the Doctor’s handiwork.
“Wow, Twelve, the doc did a real number on you, didn’t he? And you thought I was your worst problem!” He took in her whipped feet and breasts, her newly shaven head, and the cruel head harness with its nose hook and ring gag distorting her features, and whistled a long, low whistle. “Poor baby… what has he done to you?” Dane removed her inflatable gag, and she sucked in deep grateful breaths through her mouth, still wedged open by the ring.
“Guess you won’t be saying so fucking much from now on. That’s good though. Leaves your mouth free for more useful purposes, right?”
He picked up the bowl containing her food.
“Are you hungry, Twelve? Want some pigswill?” she nodded as best she could. She was even hungry enough for porridge, if that’s what she was being given. If that meant being spoon-fed through a steel ring by a rapist, then so be it.
It turned out to be soup, and she swallowed it hungrily, gratefully. Dane was excessively patient, wiping her cheek and chin, and making sure she didn’t choke. After the meal, the jailer carefully unchained her from her stress position over the whipping frame. She stood slowly, cautiously, wincing at the pain in the soles of her whipped feet, so he picked her up and carried her gently to the steel bed, where he sat her on the edge, leaning her against his own body for support.
She was exhausted, and sat passively as Dane unlocked her wrists behind her, leaving the individual manacles still locked on her wrists, and drew them to the front. He then wrapped a light chain round her waist, and padlocked it, before locking her wrists to that.
“Dr. Kay wants me to keep you with your arms behind you. But this does the same job, and it will be easier for you to sleep.” She half-listened, as he lifted her legs up on to the bed, laying her gently on her back. Some part of her registered that in some small way, he had shown that he cared about her comfort. After her night in the cage, and her morning slung over the whipping frame, just lying on her back, even on a metal bed, felt like luxury, and as she drifted off into a light doze, she was dimly aware of her jailer treating her wounded feet with a soothing cream, and humming as he massaged away the pain…
M
montycrusto
Guest
Part 22
…When she awoke, for a moment she had no idea where she was. Then the reality came rushing back to her, and she groaned. Her jaw felt stiff, and her nose was sore. She tried to raise her hand to her face, but the clink of chain stopped her – of course, her hands were still chained to her waist. She was alone in her cell, and gradually realized that the cell door was open. No-one was outside in the corridor either, as far as she could tell. She carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Each leg still bore its heavy metal cuff, but they were not chained together. Her feet were still sore, but she thought they would take her weight.
She stood up, went to the piss bucket and relieved herself. Still no-one around. Nervously she approached the open cell door, suspecting a trap. Another psychologist’s mind game, no doubt. For several minutes she stood there, just inside her cell, looking around and listening. Nothing happened. Her mind began to work furiously. Could she actually remember the way back to the garage? There had been a lot of corners, and doors. Of course, the doors. They would all be locked, escape was as impossible as ever.
She looked round the cell block, eventually plucking up the courage to leave her cell and walk up and down, peering into the other cells. Each contained a bed, like hers, though none of the others had a cage or a whipping frame. Nothing of any use. A heavy door at the end of the block was locked shut. She ended up at the other door, leading to the neighbouring cell block, which had a tiny reinforced-glass window set into it. Carefully so as not to be seen, she peeped through, seeing as she expected a double row of cells, still occupied by male prisoners. These men were clothed in orange uniforms, and did not seem to be wearing sensor harnesses. Whether they were volunteers like her, or genuine convicts, she had no way of knowing.
Suddenly she saw the door at the far end of the male cell block swing open, and she quickly ran back to her cell, wondering if she should close the door or just leave it. She decided to leave it as it was, and ran back to her bed, hastily lying down and pretending to be asleep. A few moments later she heard the cell block door open, and someone entered. She heard a few footsteps, seemingly approaching her cell, then silence.
She lay still, feeling breathless with apprehension. Whoever had come into the block, it was unlikely to be Dane, who would have swaggered straight in and woken her up. This person seemed furtive somehow. She listened, but there was no noise, not even a footstep. Was someone there, watching her? The tension she felt was unbearable.
She made a sort of sleepy noise and rolled on to her side, snatching a peek through one half-opened eye.
It was Paulson, standing in the open cell door, staring at her.
“I knew you were just pretending to be asleep, you fucking bitch,” he said, approaching the bed. The prisoner opened her eyes and rolled back on to her back, hardly in a position to deny it, or to say anything for that matter. The athletic-looking man stood over her, examining her head-harness.
“So this is what the Doctor’s been working on, the perverted fuck.” He hooked a finger under the strap that connected her nose-hook to the top of her harness and pulled upwards, lifting her head off the bed, stretching her nostrils and forcing the hooks painfully deeper into her nose. The prisoner cried out, and was immediately shocked, causing another cry, and another shock, before she regained control, sobbing gently. Paulson released the strap, letting her head fall back on to the bed.
“That’s fucking insane,” he whispered, though whether in disgust or admiration, she couldn’t tell. Paulson looked round the cell.
“Why is your cell door open?” he suddenly demanded, “Oh, you can’t talk. Do you know why your cell door is open?” she shook her head. “Did you open it somehow?” she shook her head again. “Who was last in here with you – was it Dane, the shaved head guy?”
She hesitated – was she about to get Dane into trouble? Not that she owed him anything – he had raped and beaten her, locked her in a cage, sodomized her with a piece of metal, violated her with his baton, and treated her with continual scorn and spite. Yet… she didn’t know what this was all about, and that made it hard to…
“Answer me, bitch! Was it Dane?” She nodded; it was hardly likely to be anyone else, except the Doctor, and anyway, what difference did it make…
“That fucker. Getting the only girl prisoner, then forgetting to lock her up. Seems like he doesn’t appreciate the quality cunt he’s got right here.” He leaned forward and placed both hands on her breasts, and began to knead them, squeezing them painfully. She struggled to stay quiet, though her hands twitched nervously in their shackles. “The only fucking pair of tits in the whole facility, and he leaves the door open! I’m going to have a quiet word upstairs about your fucking boyfriend, darling. And then, with any luck… you’ll be mine. I always wanted my own fuck slave. And I think I know someone who would pay a lot for you. So when I’m bored of fucking your brains out, I’ll be rich! Won’t that be fucking great!”
…When she awoke, for a moment she had no idea where she was. Then the reality came rushing back to her, and she groaned. Her jaw felt stiff, and her nose was sore. She tried to raise her hand to her face, but the clink of chain stopped her – of course, her hands were still chained to her waist. She was alone in her cell, and gradually realized that the cell door was open. No-one was outside in the corridor either, as far as she could tell. She carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Each leg still bore its heavy metal cuff, but they were not chained together. Her feet were still sore, but she thought they would take her weight.
She stood up, went to the piss bucket and relieved herself. Still no-one around. Nervously she approached the open cell door, suspecting a trap. Another psychologist’s mind game, no doubt. For several minutes she stood there, just inside her cell, looking around and listening. Nothing happened. Her mind began to work furiously. Could she actually remember the way back to the garage? There had been a lot of corners, and doors. Of course, the doors. They would all be locked, escape was as impossible as ever.
She looked round the cell block, eventually plucking up the courage to leave her cell and walk up and down, peering into the other cells. Each contained a bed, like hers, though none of the others had a cage or a whipping frame. Nothing of any use. A heavy door at the end of the block was locked shut. She ended up at the other door, leading to the neighbouring cell block, which had a tiny reinforced-glass window set into it. Carefully so as not to be seen, she peeped through, seeing as she expected a double row of cells, still occupied by male prisoners. These men were clothed in orange uniforms, and did not seem to be wearing sensor harnesses. Whether they were volunteers like her, or genuine convicts, she had no way of knowing.
Suddenly she saw the door at the far end of the male cell block swing open, and she quickly ran back to her cell, wondering if she should close the door or just leave it. She decided to leave it as it was, and ran back to her bed, hastily lying down and pretending to be asleep. A few moments later she heard the cell block door open, and someone entered. She heard a few footsteps, seemingly approaching her cell, then silence.
She lay still, feeling breathless with apprehension. Whoever had come into the block, it was unlikely to be Dane, who would have swaggered straight in and woken her up. This person seemed furtive somehow. She listened, but there was no noise, not even a footstep. Was someone there, watching her? The tension she felt was unbearable.
She made a sort of sleepy noise and rolled on to her side, snatching a peek through one half-opened eye.
It was Paulson, standing in the open cell door, staring at her.
“I knew you were just pretending to be asleep, you fucking bitch,” he said, approaching the bed. The prisoner opened her eyes and rolled back on to her back, hardly in a position to deny it, or to say anything for that matter. The athletic-looking man stood over her, examining her head-harness.
“So this is what the Doctor’s been working on, the perverted fuck.” He hooked a finger under the strap that connected her nose-hook to the top of her harness and pulled upwards, lifting her head off the bed, stretching her nostrils and forcing the hooks painfully deeper into her nose. The prisoner cried out, and was immediately shocked, causing another cry, and another shock, before she regained control, sobbing gently. Paulson released the strap, letting her head fall back on to the bed.
“That’s fucking insane,” he whispered, though whether in disgust or admiration, she couldn’t tell. Paulson looked round the cell.
“Why is your cell door open?” he suddenly demanded, “Oh, you can’t talk. Do you know why your cell door is open?” she shook her head. “Did you open it somehow?” she shook her head again. “Who was last in here with you – was it Dane, the shaved head guy?”
She hesitated – was she about to get Dane into trouble? Not that she owed him anything – he had raped and beaten her, locked her in a cage, sodomized her with a piece of metal, violated her with his baton, and treated her with continual scorn and spite. Yet… she didn’t know what this was all about, and that made it hard to…
“Answer me, bitch! Was it Dane?” She nodded; it was hardly likely to be anyone else, except the Doctor, and anyway, what difference did it make…
“That fucker. Getting the only girl prisoner, then forgetting to lock her up. Seems like he doesn’t appreciate the quality cunt he’s got right here.” He leaned forward and placed both hands on her breasts, and began to knead them, squeezing them painfully. She struggled to stay quiet, though her hands twitched nervously in their shackles. “The only fucking pair of tits in the whole facility, and he leaves the door open! I’m going to have a quiet word upstairs about your fucking boyfriend, darling. And then, with any luck… you’ll be mine. I always wanted my own fuck slave. And I think I know someone who would pay a lot for you. So when I’m bored of fucking your brains out, I’ll be rich! Won’t that be fucking great!”
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