Teena: A House of Ill Repute (12 page)

'Aye, well, this particular door was only made about a year back,' Will Burrows retorted, 'and a bugger of a job it was to get it all the way out here, I can tell you.'

'Then you need not use that horrible thing on me, must you, sir?' Maudie whined.

Burrows threw back his head and guffawed cruelly. 'And if her high and mightiness comes out here and finds you not as she expects, what then, eh? She'll make my life a bloody misery, and like as not she'll thrash your arse for talking me into such disobedience of orders.' He picked up the mask and held it between them, but he made no move to pick up the metal tongue strip that made such an effective gag. 'I'll make do with just this, but only for the night,' he said. 'If she does come out here, you keep your tongue still. If she does find out, I'll have to tell her your tongue was looking a bit raw and hope she wears that, but don't you go taking no chances, wench, else I'll beat you meself.'

'I shan't, sir, I swear it,' Maudie whimpered. It was better than nothing and, indeed, the metal did chafe her tongue at the slightest movement.

Burrows, however, intended to exact his price. 'Of course,' he grinned, drawing the mask over her head and adjusting it carefully, 'I expect something in return, if you know what I mean?' He finished tightening and knotting off the laces and then walked slowly around to stand before Maudie, who remained as ever on all fours, her head level with his waist.

'What is it you want of me?' she asked, her voice muffled by the extended snout in front of her nose and mouth, although she knew the answer, for Burrows had already begun opening his breeches and his weapon quickly burst forth in a state of eager anticipation.

'I reckons this'll reach far enough in,' he chuckled, stroking his erection enthusiastically to encourage the last drop of blood into its tissues. 'Enough for you to give me a nice little doggie suck, and then maybe I'll even mount you and you can pretend I'm a bloody great wolfhound, if you like.' He threw back his head and let out a mock howl, which disintegrated into a raucous laugh.

Maudie blinked away tears, but inside her snout she dutifully parted her lips, and then extended her head meekly towards him
.

I saw Andrea again just before Carmen and Anne-Marie reappeared. She had been cornered by a mistress in a figure-hugging red leather dress and matching red boots and gloves, who already appeared to own two diminutive female slaves whose outfits consisted of white leather masks, white leather thigh-high boots and gloves, and a series of straps and buckles that hid nothing and emphasised plenty. Their features and hair were hidden, of course, but the colouring of their skin suggested they might well be of Oriental origin, and so well matched were they with their pert breasts and tiny feet that I suspected they might even be sisters.

Such a pairing ought to have been sufficient for anyone's tastes, I thought, but no, the red leather woman was evidently attracted to the contrast between her petite charges and the much taller and, apparently, more heavily endowed Andrea. From somewhere the mistress had produced a chain leash at one end of which was a broad red leather band she had buckled around Andrea's jutting cock-piece and was using to parade her around, making her stand between her other two charges and talking animatedly to everyone she encountered. Trying not to attract too much attention to myself, I sidled along the wall and watched her progress for several minutes, wondering at the audacity of the woman at taking over control of someone else's slave in such a way. I suspected Anne-Marie would be furious when she found out, but then I remembered it was unlikely Anne-Marie would long remain in any sort of position to voice her objections. Perhaps, I thought, the red leather witch was in league with Carmen and already knew what was going to happen. It was a suspicion that was to prove well founded and I didn't have to wait much longer to discover the truth.

Until now, apart from the gradually growing level of conversations and the odd smacks of leather on rubber and vice-versa, the vault had been fairly quiet. That may sound like a contradiction in terms, I know, but the truth is those voices that were able to communicate had been doing so at a muted level, and the high ceiling and the echoing effect of the unsympathetic walls had contrived to carry most of the sound away, leaving only a sort of eerie background noise, which through the rubber skin covering my ears was generally little more than a low hum.

Now, however, hidden speakers burst into life, a brass fanfare over a thunderous bass guitar beat erupting into an ear-shattering lead guitar riff that was painfully loud even through the protection of my hood. And then, just as suddenly, the music stopped and a tall figure strode across the front of the stage area, microphone in hand held up to a mouth that was the only visible feature in a deep purple leather mask, that matched the cape he wore over what appeared to be a black leather cat suit. A ragged cheer rose from the assembled onlookers, or at least from that percentage of them who retained the use of their mouths.

'Ladies and gentlemen!' His deep voice resonated around the walls. 'Ladies and gentlemen, be welcome!' He raised his arms in the air and there was an enthusiastic round of applause, joined in, I noticed, even by those slaves whose arms were not fettered.

'Thank you, thank you!' the kinky MC continued, lowering his arms. 'And thank you all for coming this evening for what I hope will be a very enjoyable gathering. Nice to see so many familiar faces,' he quipped, and I saw the mouth twist into a grin. The humour of the remark was lost on no one and laughter broke out amongst all the masked figures slowly organising themselves into a more disciplined group before him. As they shuffled and edged for position, the figure began listing several entertainment highlights planned for the night. Many of the terms he used were new to me, but I gathered the slaves who had been brought along were in for a strenuous few hours, at the very least.

'But first,' he continued, 'we have a very special feature to kick off tonight's festivities, a contest between two well-known mistresses.' A cheer went up at this announcement even though he had not mentioned any names as yet, and I suspected he didn't need to and that many, if not the entire crowd, already knew what was coming.

'Our charming hostess, Mistress Carmen, has placed herself and two of her most devoted slaves as a stake, and Mistress Anne-Marie, one of our newer friends it must be said, has accepted her challenge. The winner will take all. I'm sure you all understand the rules where that's concerned?'

There was a ripple of laughter at this, and I wondered how many other masters and mistresses had themselves engaged in similar wagers over the years, and what tales these walls could tell had they but the means to do so.

Another fanfare ripped the air, and then two spotlights lit up circular areas on either edge of the stage into which stepped the two contestants, heads erect and arms behind their backs. They were dressed identically and I could only tell which was which because Carmen, I knew, was a good three inches taller than our own mistress, and I could see that the platform stiletto-heeled boots they wore were of identical height. Apart from the boots, which were so high they hid whatever stockings were attached to the suspender straps bisecting the fronts of their pale thighs, each wore a tight-fitting leather corset that left her breasts bare, long leather gloves and all-encompassing hood masks terminating in broad studded collars about their necks. Their eyes seemed to be protected and half hidden by clear lenses, to judge from the glinting reflections of light off them, their mouths framed by the dark leather painted a bright crimson colour. It was only after I had taken in all these details that I realised neither combatant wore any form of panty, nor even gusset, and that both had been carefully clean-shaven above their glistening sexes.

The MC turned to each of the mistresses in turn and executed a stiff little bow, which they returned, and as they did so, I realised their wrists were connected behind their backs by means of two broad leather cuffs and a short length of chain. Inching forward along the right hand wall, I peered towards Anne-Marie, who was on the farther side, trying to determine if there was any way in which she might have been handicapped, save for the obvious difference in height, but I could see nothing untoward. However, my observations did not give me any cause to relax; something suspicious was going on here, of that I was convinced. My brief acquaintance with Carmen had convinced me she was not a personality who would risk losing, especially not before an audience of her admiring guests. Silently, I cursed Anne-Marie for her blind confidence, which ranked as stupid arrogance as far as I was concerned.

'We have as our arbiter for this contest,' the MC continued, 'your friend and mine, Lady Davina of the Sisterhood of Barbara. Please give her a huge welcome, ladies and gentlemen!'

It was no surprise to me when the red leather mistress emerged from the throng to mount the stage, and I was mildly amused at the title she had been announced under, for I recalled that Barbara, who had eventually been canonised, was famous in myth for having been tortured for her beliefs, and that her would-be executioner had been struck down by lightning. A suitably dramatic background for a very dramatic lady, assuming she really was female underneath that brilliant red skin.

She waited alongside the MC until the applause and cheering died down again, and then she turned to her right, nodding and beckoning. I realised there had to be doorways off in the 'wings' on either side of the stage area, for now two slender acolytes appeared, one after the other, dressed in long white rubber gowns, hooded and gloved in rubber of the same colour, and carrying before them large red cushions, upon each of which lay what at first looked like an amorphous tangle of white straps. An air of expectancy settled over the audience, myself included, and I could hear my pulse beating inside my head like a drum heralding a condemned prisoner's approach to the scaffold.

Lady Davina beckoned the first acolyte to her and began carefully extracting objects from amongst the straps. My heart missed a beat as I identified a double dildo in its harness, and I understood why the two contestants had been left with their sexes naked. Satisfied she had everything more or less the right way around, Davina approached Carmen first.

The tall mistress did not flinch, nor did she hesitate. Obligingly, she moved her booted feet apart and bent her legs slightly at the knees, probably as far as they could bend in those boots, I suspected. Davina crouched down and presented one of the dildos to Carmen's slit and I saw it enter her easily, with barely a push from without. Guiding it in to the hilt, Davina quickly adjusted the harness and buckled it securely in place, so that when she straightened up and stepped back, a white rubber cock jutted up fiercely in front of Carmen's lower abdomen, starkly highlighted against the black of her corset. Slowly, the tall mistress drew her legs back together, and I thought I detected a slight smile form on her lips, although the mouth opening in her mask mostly hid them from view.

A few minutes later Anne-Marie had been similarly dealt with, and I felt a stupid surge of pride at the way in which she mimicked the older mistress's poise and dignity in accepting the invading phallus. Obviously she thought she was engaged in a contest of wills, as much as in one that might require other abilities, and she was not about to hand the psychological advantage to her opponent at the very outset. I blinked away tears that inexplicably formed in my eyes, and stared hard at the two shafts. I wondered just what purpose they were actually intended for, but then, as Davina moved back towards Carmen once again and took up the remaining white strap assembly, I knew the answer. Almost at the same time I guessed exactly what was really going on and how Carmen intended to win the coming battle. She stood motionless as the gag was presented to her mouth, stretching her lips wide to take what at first I took to be an abnormally thick penis gag. It was only when Davina finished tightening all the straps on the bridle-styled head harness, and stepped clear, that I was able to see the truth, at which time the first penny dropped, followed a moment later by the second. It was not a solid gag at all, I saw now, but a hollow tube attached to the straps, a tube that would hold the wearer's mouth open and available, in this case available to accept the white rubber dildo of her opponent. Therefore, I realised, the aim of the game had to be to see which woman could plug her opponent's mouth first, a test of strength, cunning and flexibility, if ever there was one.

Except, I suddenly knew with a blinding flash of insight, this was never intended to be a fair and true test, for as Anne-Marie opened her mouth and Davina moved in on her, I realised it would not require very much to tip the odds in Carmen's favour. The two dildos and the two gagging tubes looked identical enough, it was true, but half a millimetre or so extra girth on Anne-Marie's rubber penis, and the same again as a reduction on the diameter of Carmen's gag hole, and the odds would be well and truly affected. Doubtless it would still be possible for Anne-Marie to effect the necessary penetration, but for either woman to do so would require a high degree of accuracy when it came to the necessary angle of attack. A millimetre or so overall difference could, and would, mean several additional degrees of tolerance. It might take a while before Carmen achieved the correct positioning, but she would probably have four or five times the chances of success Anne-Marie had, and as they began eventually to tire, sufficient opportunity was bound to present itself.

I prayed fervently that Anne-Marie might get a lucky break early on and take Carmen by surprise. After all, one fortunate thrust was all it would need, but then it quickly became apparent Carmen herself was aware of that, and when the contest finally began I saw she was taking no early chances, contenting herself with avoiding her opponent's attacks and allowing her to exhaust herself all the quicker.