Chapter 6
"Save your breath, Sherrie. You'll be saying please plenty in the next hour or so.. . "
He spoke for the first time, and Sherrie had to roll her tear-wetted eyes to see his face. Southworth had opened his mouth in a wicked, glinting grin . . . unusual for a man who seldom smiled.
"You will beg, you will plead, but Myra and I have discovered there is a certain kind of animal-female animal-who will die for pleasure . . . either giving it or receiving. Pain and pleasure ride a fine line, as you will soon discover. Unfortunately, we've lost many girls because of their sensual greed, no matter how thoroughly we've trained them."
Shock cut through terror. These people were insane! Sherrie struggled to free herself of the straps, but managed only to get wrist burns from the biting leather straps. "I'm not an animal! I'm a human being, and I don't know what training you're talking about . . . and I will not beg!"
Southworth smiled sardonically. He enjoyed feisty women, because in a sense, they were more difficult to break. He was a master at breaking women.
"I'll scream until somebody hears me!" Sherrie didn't recognize her own babyish wail.
A churlish grin spread Southworth's lips. "Scream . . . scream your bloody head off. Nobody can hear you in these woods, and no one would come to your rescue. Anyway, Myra and I like screaming.. . "
Sherrie felt her heart batter at her chest. Why had she come to this horrible place? Why had false pride prevented her from seeking solace from her father? Damn you, Jack.. . I hope they find my dead body and suffer you the agony of claiming it!
The captive wet her lips with the tip of her parched tongue. 'This is sick.. . " Her head was postured at an angle giving her a birds' eye view of her melonous breasts with the suction cups disgustingly clamped over her hardened nipples. The gentle tingling and babyish sucking motion of the soft, warm cups was strangely soothing . . . and, in different circumstances, exciting. "Please," tears squeezed out in burning droplets.
Myra's hissing breathing, and Southworth's deep inhalations could be heard above the buzzing sound.
Eyes squeezed shut, Sherrie broke her vow to silence again. "What are you going to do with me?" Fear and the first hint of forbidden sensual excitation crept in unwelcomed. The soft, warm core of something sweet, hot, and undeniable was bubbling deep in her womb-not un-like the strangely arousing masochistic desire when Jack had taken her anally and afterwards she had-No, she couldn't think filthy thoughts . . . not with the cups rubbing over her hardened nipples the way Jack used to roll them between his fingers. One was pleasure one was pain, mingling in strange sensations of time and place and memory.
"You will learn, Sherrie," began Myra as if reading her captive's thoughts, "that every female is part animal." Her voice was hard and decisive as a whack of a cleaver. "Give it to her, Southworth!"
Sherrie's green eyes popped to the side to see her male tormentor press another button, staring off a click and buzz and then a hum of well-oiled machinery. The chair moved slowly, tilting her backwards this time, so that her legs slid apart slowly . . . stretching out wider, wider, wider until. . .
A painful whimper tore from Sherrie's lungs. She felt as if she were being twirled and whirled in outer space! Drawn backwards, her buttocks rose obscenely and her thighs were pulled so wide apart that muscle cramps started to set in.
Helplessly strapped, she lay staring blankly at the ceiling, wondering how many other women before he had suffered this torture. Where were they? Dead? Buried under the drifting snow?
Now the gentle, insistent sucking charged with a tingling electric impulse, intensified. The perfidious grin on Myra's powdered face told her the torture had just begun. Right she was.
Reaching over her prize, the elder woman turned knobs until mirrors appeared from below the chair angled at the heart of Sherrie's vagina. "Give her hell," she grunted at Southworth.
Another button pressed and this time Sherrie's naked buttocks split wider apart, until aghast, she glanced down to see the swollen lips of her vagina swelling with blood of arousal!
A cold, clammy feel like that of a snake crawling along her spine rippled through the terrorized captive. The horror of her obscene posture was humiliating, but the sight of her own wicked arousal was soulfully damning! She blinked back hot tears as the vision of her disapproving father hovered above. "Nnnooo-oo. . . ! " she shrilled, straining against the straps.
"Our sweetheart is feeling the first tingle of pleasure," mewled Myra. "I could tell from those green eves she was half cat-in heat!"
Sherrie clenched shut her fluttering eyelids and thrashed her auburn curls from left to right. Beads of perspiration sheened the milky mounds of her breasts and her teeth clenched in horror against the naked truth.
Her green eyes stole a glance down into the mirrors, steamed from the heat of her cuntal arousal. Her traitorous pussy lips had swollen into reddened petals of shame and guilt.
Kurt Baily was in no mood for interruptions. A snow plow driver with a few warming brandies under the belt, had smashed into the rear end of his new Lincoln this morning. Irritation number two: nobody bought cars in the dead of winter. He slumped, ruminating over these grievances of fate, and drummed his fingers on the polished desk top. Good thing, (here a smirk grew over his mustached face), he had written his own insurance policy against inflation.
Outside the plate-glass window, a sheet of powder whitened the Auto Fair parking lot, making his lineup of '80 Caddies and Lincolns look like frosted tinker toys. The red sale signs had cracked in the storm and flew from skinny poles in shredded red ribbons.
Now the telephone call from his son-in-law.
"Tell the bastard to pick up his unemployment check at the welfare office," he grumbled at his secretary over the intercom.
"He says it's urgent," came the mewling voice. "S-something about his wife.. . ? "
"Sherrie?" Kurt stiffened. He loved his daughter. The only good thing his wife ever gave him.
A clicking sound, a pause, and Jack's voice crackled over the snow laden wires.
"Listen, you dumb shit, if you beat my daughter, I'll see you in court!"
"Cut the crap, Bailey," bawled Jack so loud Bailey held the phone a respectable distance from his ear drum. "Sherrie's gone-left. Where the hell is she?"
Kurt Bailey hadn't wormed his way up the ladder of corruption without tact. He used it now, knowing what Turner knew. "If there's anything I can do-" he said in a tempered voice.
"Listen, Bailey, you help me find my wife, or I'm going to the cops. You catch my drift?"
Bailey stiffened, nostrils flaring with rage. "So you win this round, Turner . . . but don't push me. I can have you more than fired."
The Swiss chalet sat pristinely in the pine forest. Drifting snows crawled up the blood red walls in silent fingers, stretching to reach the room where screams died.
Southworth went mad. He turned switches and pressed buttons, experimenting with his victim. The idea of machinery fascinated him, the concept of a handful of inanimate nuts and bolts doing to a human what another human failed to do . . . finding their libidinous weakness.
And so it was with Sherrie as the sucking and tingling of the foam cups intensified to the point of pain. Along with it came pleasure, ebbing and flowing in rhythm. Pleasure coming from all directions. Sherrie whimpered, feeling dew drops of perspiration trickle between the milky mounds of her breasts. Against her will, her hips began to undulate and the lips of her pussy gushed with blood and separated like the petals of a blossoming rose. The glistening red slit of her vagina opened acceptingly. Beneath, the softly rounded cheeks of her buttocks bunched and spread as if a baker's kneading hands were working at soft bread dough. She cried then, a wail dying in her throat at the sight of her tiny puckered anus so recently ravaged, working like a sucking mouth.
Her breath caught in her throat as a stainless steel shaft rose like a snake's head between her legs. Beside her, Southworth was wildly screwing something inJ,o place; he fastened a plastic surgical hose to it.
"Ah, Southworth," she heard Myra gleam beside her. "You are such a genius. We'll find out if this one is oral, anal or vaginal. It's my bet she's the oral type."
"Find out soon enough," grunted Southworth, stepping back. "I'd rather find out the bitch was anal. There is a rare breed." Standing in front of his captive's strapped down body, he hardly regarded her nude sensuality. Precise as a scientist and with an expression to match, he smirked up at Myra. "I'm sure you would rather she were oral. You haven't really had one to please you for a while."
Myra's soft hands reached up to cup her breasts. A ludicrously salacious grin separated her lips. "No, you're right. If things get any more arid, you'll have to put me in the machine!"
Sherrie listened to their salacious banter, one green eye kept warily peeled on what appeared to be a red tongue, horrifyingly obscene. Southworth flicked another switch and by some magical means the tongue filled, ballooning and bloating. Click, whirr . . . the tongue slipped forward, tilting, lapping toward her cunt.
"Ahhhhhh!" Sherrie defied her oath once more, as she felt the warm, moist touch of the plastic tongue. "Noooo!" she pleaded as the rubbery head touched, then pressed against her moistened vaginal lips. In rotating circles, the tongue worked at the swollen flanges, spreading them with vengeful ease.
She couldn't see him, but she could sense his presence. To her left, Myra's shallow breathing and the rustle of satin told her the woman was masturbating furiously. She might have concentrated on that horror, but the mirror emplanted in front of her face, and the wicked, bloated tongue began to vibrate in teasing circles, back and forth as it slid up and down the petals of her pussy in lubricated ease. Gently it spread her lips and dipped into the moistened warmth of her cunt; then it retreated, smearing the insides of her thighs with her own sex juices. Tantalizingly, it wormed its way down between her softly trembling buttocks to nudge at the brown button of her anus.
Sherrie stiffened and forced back her head, arching her back to ward off the ticklish sensation. It was gone then, heading north for the oily hub of her clitoris where it stopped and paid ticklish homage in a swirling caress.
Sherrie's face contorted teeth clenched, head thrown back. Pearls of perspiration beaded her forehead. "Nooooooo!" Maddening sweet, more gentle than her own husband's touch! Dear God, when would this torture end? Had anyone ever died of too much pleasure?
Those thoughts lifted as the chair suddenly tilted, raising her hips far above her head and spreading her legs wider still. Between them, working assiduously at the heart of her being, the tongue plunged down, spreading her seething cunt wide enough for the bloated digit to thrust in and out. Sherrie screamed out her rage.
She sucked in her breath hissingly, as the chair rocked back and forth. Her buttocks were trapped in the twin cups, swaying back and forth as the mechanical tongue fucked in and out, back and forth, vibrating. Eyes tightly clenched, her hips did a dance of their own, as the tongue dashed down to lick and probe at the brown eye of her anus. The captive's thoughts fled to Jack, deepening the humiliation. Fear and desire melded into one long groan.
Beside her, Myra's hands cupped her own breasts, while one ringed hand yanked at the hem of her dress, allowing her fingers to stroke the hairy nest of her cunt. "Ohhh, that tongue . . . to have that tongue licking me, sucking me . . . sucking me . . . sucking me.. . " she mewled, watching the naked captive's fear slowly melt into pleasure-which later would know pain. "Y-you see. . . Southworth," Myra struggled in a breathy voice, "She is oral . . . she would love to suck cock and cunt. . . w-would fit s-so well at Hunter's.. . " Her voice died in a groan of obscene pleasure, as bonding her knees and supporting herself with one hand braced against Sherrie's chair, she stroked and rubbed and mewled and cried with joy.
Sherrie's eyes popped open; but not from Myra's obscene gyrations. The tongue had stopped, retracted. "W-what. . . please . . . let me . . . gooo!"
"Never." Southworth was coming to life now. "You liked that too much." He glanced over at Myra. "We know she's oral. . . but we haven't tried the rest." Then down at the squirming, wiggling captive whose wide green eyes stared up into his dark beady ones with pleading intensity. "Don't worry . . . you'll have plenty of pleasure."
His eyes swept over the walls decorated with whips and chains and straps and objects Sherrie had never seen before. Then down at his captive. "We can offer you any pleasure you want here."
Sherrie shivered. Every nerve in her naked body cried for pleasure . . . anything to stop this ticklish sensation charging through her libido-controlled body. From the tips of her auburn curls, to the polished pink toenails curling under, Sherrie's captive body was a mass of jingling ganglia, fiery with the need for relief that could come in only one way orgasm. The thought shuddered through her body that she could want pleasure from these despicable creatures!
A click and a whirr and her head tilted back, so far back she was staring at the ceiling, as if in a dentist's chair. The rustle of Myra's satin dress chorused another sound-this time the metallic whine of a zipper. Sherrie's head flew to the side and she gasped aloud as his hands unzipped his pants and hauled out the pathetic, wormian tube of his flaccid penis.
"Suck it until I cum in your mouth," he said with neither passion or malice. "I want to see what you can do with your mouth!"
Sherrie spat at him: "Never!"
"You're saying no to me?" he snarled.
Sherrie's head flew to the side; a red welt streaked across her cheek bone.
"Okay," hissed Southworth. Keeping an eye on his victim, he turned a knob and her head righted so that her eyes leveled on the damning mirrors, steamed with hot cuntal secretions.
Beside her Southworth worked with scientific precision, unscrewing the bloated tongue and replacing it with a dildo of elephantine proportions. "There, is that big enough for you?" he snickered sardonically.
Dear God! A sob tore from Sherrie's fear constricted throat. It had to have been at least a foot long and five inches in girth. Crystals of dried cuntal juices flaked from the tip. A bubble of nausea welled in her stomach. Hysterically, she squirmed in the chair, judging his intent-correctly!
"Nnnnoooo . . . ! " That hunk of plastic would rip her to shreds. It would kill her! Not even a female cow could take a cock like that! Mouth going bone dry, she watched terrified as the mushroom headed cock with other women's dried juices and streaks of blood, whirred toward her vagina at a militaristic pace. She closed her eyes, feeling the cold plastic rub at the door of her tender pussy.
It crashed forward with shark speed, spreading the tender lips of her pussy, spreading them in a wide and tight oval around the mushroom head. Without caress or love, it plundered into her, raping her, spreading the lips wide mercilessly. It then slipped in with an ease she wouldn't have expected . . . because of her own anal secretions! Elastically, her lips spread wider, wider still.. . until a shriek of pure agony pierced the moans of Myra's fingered pleasure.
With the sound of a cork popping, the cock head slid between the swollen lips of her cunt; her pussy stretched taut and white. Mercifully, it retreated; she felt her buttocks and hips being ripped from their cups and, one glance in the mirror reflected her vaginal lips rolling out, giving up the massive head reluctantly!
Sherrie's body rippled with pain . . . worse than losing virginity on her marriage bed. Stars flickered before her eyes and Myra's lewd grunts echoed as if from a point far out in space.
"I would judge her depth at eight inches,"
Southworth reported to an unhearing Myra, who, sluicing her fingers in and out of her seething cunt, was hell-bent for an orgasm. "But just to make sure. . . . "
"Noooonoooo . . . please!" wailed Sherrie, watching the plastic cock prepare for a second attack. It plowed into her, drilled and gored, then slowly then slowly withdrew. "Oh, God, stop that thinggggg!" she begged. ' With a wicked snicker, Southworth screwed up the depth and tempo control and the tingling and sucking on her nipples too. Sherrie's body rippled with electrified sensations, centering wickedly in the heart of her raped womb. The devilish fingers of pleasure drummed at fear, corroding her will to fight the hellish sensations.
The dildo went berserk, crashing into her pussy like a gladiator charging his foe. It banged against her tender cervix. Sherrie yelped. Flickers of light danced before her flickering eyelids, and blinking her fear widened eyes, she saw the giant cock glistening with moist sex juices from her traitorous cunt! It pulled free with an obscene sucking sound, peeling her vaginal lips out to roll them back in. A second attack rolled the ends of her pubic hair into the nest of her vagina! Each ramming lunge knocked the breath from Sherrie's burning lungs.
With strength and resistance eating away, Sherrie's hips fought the straps and moved in tempo to the dildo goring in and out of her vagina. Damn you, Jack . . . Her chartreuse eyes rolled back in her head, and curly eyelashes fluttered deliriously. Why did yon treat me so shamelessly! This is your fault. . . !
Armed with defiance and stripped of pride, the captive gritted her teeth and caught the moan of submission about to bubble from her laxly parted lips. The tip of her pink tongue wetted the cracked line of her fear-dried lips as the great cock plundered home. Her captive body tensed, muscles fighting to capture the elusive orgasm that would forever shatter pride and defense. She didn't want to think, only feel that animalish thing fucking into her crying womb.
A sob tore from her throat and tears smarted in her wet eyes. Southworth turned the knob to high and the surrogate penis pinned her tighter against the straps.
"Aaaaggghhhhh!" She felt herself slip into a state of mindless animal lust.
"Tell me, sweetheart," Myra whispered hotly in her ear. "Did you ever feel anything so sweet in your life?" Lewdly, the older woman smeared the sticky juices of her own orgasm over the captive's lips. 'There's nothing," she hissed, "like the cum of a woman tingling on your tongue."
Dear Lord! Jack.. . help me.. . Daddy, please! Yet the humiliation of being strapped in the chair with a lesbian smearing her wicked juices tauntingly over her lips were reminders of the debasement of her marriage. She was alone in the world. Alone. Nothing to live for . . . except for the burning need of relief!
Every inch of her goose-bumped body twitched and jerked and trembled as the rapacious plastic penis thundered violently into the shamefully swollen, seeping hole of her womb.
Damn you, Jack . . . you wouldn't have me . . . you wouldn't please me . . . ! To cum . . . to cum . . .
It exploded within her. She pulled against her straps like a racehorse biting at the reins. Fingers, ten cold fingers, numbed as every drop of blood within her lithe, naked body drained to the lips of her cunt to swell. She felt it burst within her . . . a pain jabbed at her spongy cervix. Wetness dribbled between her thighs, while stars sprinkled in heavens above. Then all went black.