Having It All (10 page)
Having taken all of the slack out of the lifting chain, Ellen now substituted a bar of the same length for the chain. She bolted the bar, with its own attachments, quickly into place, fastening it at the end of the bar with the dildos on it and at the back of the collar. Once this was secured, the frame became a rigid tripod of steel and no amount of motion from the captive would allow her to extract the deep rectal and vaginal probes.
“One more little thing, Patty,” said Ellen. “And then you can enjoy yourself while I tend to other matters.”
She unlocked Patty’s right wrist from the front cuff on the frame and quickly twisted the arm around, bringing it behind the girl’s back and securing it to a duplicate cuff welded to the new back bar. Patty resisted, but there was little she could do and the movement simply drove the lower invaders deeper and caused them to wiggle around inside their new homes. Ellen repeated this switch with the other wrist and locked the clamps tightly.
With her wrists clamped behind her, Patty discovered that by pulling on her bound hands, she transmitted movement to the lower bar that cleaved her crotch and in turn moved the dildos. This was not an altogether undesirable effect, but she didn’t want to display her excitement to Ellen, so she tried to relax and stay motionless. Not that any motion was possible, anyway. The collar held her neck in place, her legs were secured and widely spread at ankle and knee and her wrists were bound behind her, pulled up high enough on the connecting bar to restrict any arm movement.
“Frank once suggested another adjustment which I declined, but you might find it revealing,” said Ellen thoughtfully. “Let’s try it. What the hell?”
From a nearby equipment box, Ellen removed a short, adjustable spreader bar of the type that was often used on ankles and wrists. This she now fitted between Patty’s straining arms, just above the elbow. The girl flapped her bound arms, trying to avoid the grip of the cuffs at the ends of the bar, but Ellen snapped them on and then adjusted the length of the bar so that Patty’s arms were pulled inward until her bound wrists were being precariously strained against their cuffs and her shoulders were screaming for relief. A short connector chain held the spreader bar in close contact with the upright bar connecting collar and wrists.
“There,” said Ellen with a certain satisfaction at having done a difficult job well. “That should do it. Have I forgotten anything, Love?”
Patty struggled without any visible movement other than fingers and toes, gurgled and hummed inside the hood and shook her head vigorously.
“Yeah,” said Ellen thoughtfully. “You’re right, can’t leave you without a bit of a warm up. She went in front of the frame, pulled a long chain from the floor and seemed to measure its distance from its end to Patty’s collared neck. Ellen pushed the top of the frame forward and it pivoted on its base. Patty slid off the stool, her weight moving forward as the frame tilted. Her plugged ass and pussy, held in place by the double dildos, remained sticking out and up as the frame and she rotated ninety degrees forward. When the structure obtained the ideal angle, Ellen clipped the chain she was holding on the ring at the front of the collar. The frame was balanced on its two main legs and Patty’s weight put an immediate strain on the forward chain, pulling it tight and holding her in the rotated position.
“Ho,” said Ellen, obviously pleased with the arrangement. “This will do nicely. Your little ass is more accessible now. Patty, you are just so cooperative I could kiss you.” Ellen leaned over and planted a big, wet kiss on the left hemisphere of Patty’s lovely ass, leaving a beautiful red lip print. Patty moaned.
Ellen walked away once again and returned with the snap on eye cover for the hood and a square wooden paddle. Patty saw it and knew it wasn’t for ping pong.
Ellen placed the eye pads on the hood, sealing out sight and light, then took her stance next to the tilted frame, lined up on the left buttock and swung the paddle.
Thwack!
“AHHHH, oooooh,” screamed Patty through the tongue gag. An instant red square, roughly the shape of the paddle, appeared on her firm, white ass.
“Lovely,” said Ellen, lining up another shot.
One after the other, the blows seared Patty’s exposed and quivering ass cheeks. Ellen worked one side and then moved to the other for a repeat performance until the entire surface of the backside was glowing bright red from her attacks.
“How do you like that?” Ellen said brightly, resting her arm and lightly fingering the flaming flesh. Patty made no sounds other than a gagged squeal each time the paddle struck and a quiet whining as tears ran down her cheeks and a thin stream of whitish liquid trickled down the inside of her thigh.
“I can see your answer,” said Ellen, touching the inside of the wet thigh with her paddle. “Well, gotta go, honey,” Ellen said, putting down the paddle and patting the glowing butt still displayed in the raised posture. Ellen started for the stairs and then stopped again.
“Oh shit,” she said, annoyed that she had forgotten to secure the captive’s hooded head, “can’t have that.” She pulled down an overhead chain, snapped a link into the ring on top of the slave hood and pulled the hoist chain until it was tight, holding Patty’s hooded head perfectly upright with her body weight and the steel frame neatly holding the chain taunt.
Again, Ellen surveyed her work. She moved around in front of the sweating, straining captive and ran her long fingers over the luscious, firm, globelike breasts. She pinched the light brown nipples with her fingernails and hummed a bit of a tune, watching the hooded head struggle and the fingers flutter. Somehow, she had forgotten something and it was bugging her.
“Oh my God,” Ellen shouted suddenly. “There it is, right in front of me. I’m playing with them instead of thinking about what to do with them. Holy Shit. Frank would have laughed his head off if I’d forgotten to do the tits. Jesus, the tits, the tits. I’m losing my mind.” Ellen picked up the paddle and began slowly, rhythmically, beating Patty’s breasts, first one then the other with their steel rings occasionally banging in contact with the paddle. Considering that she had been about to leave, Ellen took her time, paddling with strong, carefully placed strokes the top, sides and bottom of each of Patty’s freely swinging tits. When they had assumed the same battered, beaten condition as the buttocks, glowing fiery red and coursing with increased blood from the prolonged smacking, Ellen backed away, surveyed the affects of her beating and discarded the paddle. She stood back, sweating and admiring her work, then again ran her hand up and down Patty’s inside thighs, which by now were flowing actively with the light colored fluids being generated by the combination of the double dildos and the floggings of butt and tits. Ellen finished up the session by tweaking each nipple with her long, sharp nails and then adding the finale, as she called it. Something special to wrap up the session, she chained Patty’s nipples to weights.
Soon, it was all over and a panting, sweating Patty hung on the frame, her ass still in the air, the bar and its attached dildos still splitting her ass cheeks and cunt lips wide apart. Her hood was attached to the ceiling chain and from each nipple a thin shiny chain led to the horizontal bar between the spread and clamped knees. The chains went over the bar and hung down, supporting the small weights that kept them taunt. The other ends of the chains were hooked to the new nipple rings that F&E had thoughtfully reinserted for Patty while she was spread out on the kitchen table.
From inside the hood came groans and whines of physical and emotional discomfort, signaling to Ellen that the set up for the night was now complete. Patty was, as usual, complaining, but Ellen knew that behind all of this hollering and struggling, Patty was a first class masochist and was getting massive doses of emotional and physical thrills and orgasms from each thing they did to her. It was her covert, seemingly naive style that had thrown both of the couple off initially, but the discovery of Patty’s many piercings had invalidated all of this.
Patty was fully aware of the affects of the discipline and torment she was experiencing and it was the concerted conclusion of both Frank and Ellen that if offered her freedom, Patty would complain loudly, but find a way to refuse. Meanwhile, she suffered and enjoyed the torment of the tripod frame, twenty hard strokes on butt and breasts from the wooden paddle, the prolonged anal and frontal penetration, the gags, the hood, tongue stretching and tit torture. Patty, like the other guests at the camp, was just another member of the Cabin Club. She was having fun.
Chapter Seven
Nobody Said Anything About Sex
Frank came back with a couple of things in a small duffle bag. Katy was pleased to hear him enter the room and stayed very still as he approached her.
“I got delayed for awhile there,” Frank said. “But in the process, I picked up a few little things for you.” He dropped a canvas bag on the floor and began to remove the contents, which he dumped on the floor next to the pinioned girl. Katy immediately smelled the rubber. She chattered urgently behind the gag, trying to tell Frank that she did not enjoy latex and that she was possibly allergic to it, but of course, with the hood and gag, Frank didn’t get any of the messages.
He powdered both of Katy’s long legs, rubbing the talc over and around the feet and joints. Then he unfastened the left leg and started the challenging process of fitting her small, pedicured toes into the foot of the shiny rubber suit. He unfastened the clamps one by one as he worked up her leg until he reached the top of her thigh, then unlocked the right leg and followed the same slow, meticulous procedure until the suit was firmly fitted to both legs and hung from just below her waist. Frank worked carefully, smoothing the sticky latex over her limbs, one at a time, then bringing the suit up around her hips and waist, humming to himself and ignoring Katy’s somewhat frantic struggles. When she resisted too much, he pinched, slapped or twisted the resisting body part until she stopped fighting him. It took nearly an hour to fully enclose Katy in the suit. When the fitting was complete, she was still bound to the wall with the same cuffs and clamps, but her entire body was enclosed in the thin, shiny latex, stretched tightly over her skin, accenting her nicely shaped ass and boobs. Her nipples stuck out, beautifully accented by the tight, shiny rubber.
“Remind me to shine these up when I’m done,” Frank said, rubbing his hands over the nipples and breasts, squeezing them lightly and ending with a firm tweak of the nips. Katy was already sweating from her fruitless struggles and the airtight seal of the suit. The original blindfold was removed, the gag changed and a new, latex hood with a hole where the gag went into her mouth and a set of small breathing holes at her nose was fitted carefully. It was very tight and when finished, Frank had to admire the beautiful outline of Katy’s perfect head that the hood provided. A heavy and thick metal collar, lined with latex, was placed around her neck. Frank finished his work on Katy’s head by attaching a well designed rubber harness which further secured her head, forcing the gag deeper into her wide stretched mouth and pressing the eye pads inside the hood firmly against her eyes. Frank carefully tightened the straps on the harness, mating it to the hood and assuring himself that Katy could continue to breathe easily. He fed a thin hose into the hole in the front of the hood, making sure it went into and through the gag. The hose went up to the bottom of a transparent vinyl bag attached high on the wall. It contained a clear liquid.
Slipping another larger and circular metal collar over her head, Frank fitted it until it was snug around Katy’s forehead. A second circle of steel was placed lower on her head, in line with her mouth. Then the two bands were joined with connecting strips of metal at the sides, top and under her chin, forming a constricting, brank-like metal frame that held her head rigidly and was connected by a short chain to a ring on the wall above and behind Katy’s head.
When he was done, Frank had constructed an effective rubber and metal enclosure for Katy’s small blond head. She had a new metal gag in her mouth that had tracks for her teeth and filled the entire oral cavity with a metallic tasting but totally sound-stopping plug. The gag was held in place by the flexible stainless steel band that was over the hood and the harness and locked behind her head. The additional band of the same material encased her head, around the forehead and also locked in back to the same structure. Another band went around her face, on her upper lip, over the outer seal of the gag and also locked behind. Another band went from under her chin up to the top of her head and mated on the sides to the other horizontal bands. A final band pressed the two eye pads in place. With this arrangement locked on, Katy could hear, but say and see nothing. It was fine with her. It was the rubber that she hated and Frank continued to ignore her physical and verbal protestations. She loved the restraint, but she was surprised when she felt Frank (she thought it was Frank) busying himself with something long and hard that was attached to the front of her waist band, angling down across her flat stomach and dangling down over her abdomen. That was when she realized that the suit had a panel in the crotch and that Frank was opening it to expose her sex. The pleasant coolness of the open air on her sex was mitigated by the realization that beyond being rigidly bound to the wall, thoroughly gagged, harnessed and encapsulated in the rubber suit, she was about to be sexually violated as well.
What’s he doing? No one said anything about sex. Is he going to fuck me? Well, that would be fun, I guess, but not in this rubber suit. What’s that he’s doing?