Chapter 11
Still unconscious, Sandra was lifted to her feet beneath the room's central beam. The women fastened leather cuffs to her wrists and ankles, and then I held her several inches off the floor while Skowron, who was the only one tall enough, hooked her wrist cuffs to the wide-set lengths of chain that hung from the beam.
When I let go, her toes barely scraped the stone floor. And now they were pulled out to either side by Irene and Sharon, and the ankle cuffs chained to plates set in the floor. She hung spreadeagled, her chin on her chest.
Alice Cahill was first to notice the thick moisture that had begun to ooze and drip from Sandra's cunt. "Jesus H. Christ!" she breathed, pointing. "She actually got hot!"
Nodding and laughing, the others gathered around my wife's suspended form. Myra Deering, blushing a little, even crouched and scooted in to lick at the flowing slime and to tongue Sandra's swollen little clit, parting the thinly haired lips with her thumbs. Either because of this stimulation or because of the strain on her shoulders and arms, Sandra came to then, her staring, insane eyes bulging as she perceived her new plight. Eldridge took charge again.
"That's enough, Myra. She hasn't earned such consideration yet. Try my wife's gash, if you're hungry, eh?
"Now, Sandra," he continued, as Myra slunk away, "we're going to give you a bit of a breather. We men are all rather depleted, thanks to your oral talents, and we need a breather too, so the ladies will... entertain you for a while, and then you'll have a chance to repay them for their kindness.
"Rex, we'll need a couple of those thin, springy little switches, and perhaps a bullwhip. Eh, Alice? You, at least, prefer the bullwhip, I believe. Right?"
But when Eldridge tore his eyes from my wife's stretched body to seek a reply from Alice, he found her turned away, looking back toward the fireplace. And there, crouched and holding a short, sharp steel pike in the white-hot coals, was Rex Cahill.
"Rex!" Eldridge barked angrily.
The wiry little man turned his head. His eyes, in the black mask, were glazed.
"No, Rex. I can't allow that. Snap out of it now, boy, and get us a couple switches and the bullwhip. Come on, now, Rex. I've told you before, that sort of thing won't go, with members."
Cahill still crouched by the fire, the pike's reddening point held in the coals. But now, sighing harshly, his wife strode over to him, pried the pike's shaft from his frozen hands, then slapped him sharply in the face, once... twice ... three times, before he shook his head and shrank back from her, blinking bewilderedly.
Alice now took his shoulders and helped him rise, guided him to a bench beside the fireplace and made him lie down.
"Rest, darling," she whispered, stroking his hand. "You'll be all right in a minute."
When she returned to the circle, and we all turned back to face Sandra, Eldridge himself had selected two thin, flexible wooden rods from the tall cabinet, and produced as well a coiled black bullwhip. Alice took the whip, and Irene and Laurel were first in line for the switches, which they brandished with delight, sizzling them through the air before Sandra's frightened eyes.
We men now backed off and took places on the benches, as the five women moved a little distance from their victim and conferred in whispers. Then Alice went to stand near the fireplace, toward which Sandra faced, while Irene and Laurel stood at either side behind her, still whisking their thin, springy rods through the air in practice strokes.
I noted with interest that Cahill, as he saw his wife move toward him with the coiled black lash in her hand, quickly sat up, then cowered back at the farther end of his bench, curled into a foetal ball and peered at her over his knees. But Alice took up a position on the opposite side of the hearth, near where I sat.
Now she uncoiled the whip, flipping its length loosely out on the floor before her, then advancing some four paces toward Sandra, so that she had room for backswing. "Proceed, ladies," she said calmly.
With a whirring swish that ended in a sharp slap and a pained yelp from Sandra, Irene sent the first cut into my wife's right buttock. And she had drawn her weapon back and stood at ease, holding it in both hands, before Laurel struck the left cheek, zzzzzzzzzap!
Irene waited until Laurel in her turn had assumed an at-ease position, then struck again in what appeared to be the exact same spot where her first stripe had been laid on; and this time Laurel was beginning her swing, even as Irene drew back.
Thus the cuts came in pairs now; zzzzzzzzap ... zzzzap, then a pause while Sandra's sharp whimper faded in the silent chamber; zzzzzzap ... zzzap, and another pause, zzzzzzzap ... zzzap! And suddenly, after perhaps a dozen such paired strokes, I saw the lash of Alice's bullwhip flash past me on backswing, then stroke sinuously forward, its nearly invisible tip making a slanting upward slash across Sandra's belly.
"Aaaiieeeee!" The sudden eut brought a shrill, startled scream from her, and her whole body wrenched violently, though the chains suspending her were so taut that her legs and arms hardly moved.
"Just six more, I think, ladies," said Alice. "And, Sandra, listen. It will be when they've stopped that the pain will be worst. You've hardly felt anything yet, compared to the fire that will come a minute or so after those last stripes.
"Six each, of course," she went on, addressing herself to Irene and Laurel again. "And do keep a tight pattern, please."
Even as she spoke the last word, Alice had snapped the birilwhip into a looping, flashing backswing again, and now it shot toward Sandra and cut downward across her belly, the red weal it left forming a perfect X with the previous one.
"Aaaai ... " zzzzzzzap ... zzzap!
"Eeeeee!" zzzzzzap ... zzzap!
"Uuuuuughh! Oh, God, I-"
"DON'T SPEAK!" Eldridge roared.
But Alice was ahead of him. She had sent a flicking backhand shot to Sandra's contorted face, the tip of the lash cutting upward across her right cheek, and drawing an ooze of blood.
Christ, she was good with that whip! zzzzzzzap ... zzzap!
"Aaaaggh!" zzzzzzzap ... zzzap!
It continued, and when the sixth pair of cuts landed, the long black lash was already in flight again, on a sweeping circular course that sent it swishing twice around Sandra's waist before the tip caught its own substance in a flashing flip, and held. And Alice stepped back, pulling it taut, straining Sandra's torso forward till the muscles of her thighs, her upper arms and shoulders stood out grotesquely.
Alice held her thus for long, silent seconds, and then a thin wail of death-throe agony welled up from Sandra's throat... and grew, swelled, filled the room with itself, crushing our ears from inside as the flaming teeth of utmost pain sank ever deeper into Sandra's tortured ass.
Then at last it choked off, and Sandra gasped for air, her breasts heaving desperately over her scorched lungs.
Irene and Laurel now gave their rods to Sharon and Myra. Sharon seemed a bit reluctant to take her turn, but after a little whispered urging from Laurel, she gave in, moving around behind Sandra, while the nervously eager Myra positioned herself in front and unwound the slackened bullwhip from the victim's still-heaving torso.
Coiling the whip again, Alice came forward to stand at Sandra's left.
"I think you must have been wanting to ask for some cock, a moment ago, Sandra. To help you bear the pain, I suppose. Well, perhaps I can help." So saying, she knelt, her bush pressing against Sandra's right calf, and began to insert the blunt, thick butt of the whip's handle into Sandra's cunt. "Have you tried black cock, Sandra?" Alice went on. "It's often this thick, and this hard, though it's seldom really this black."
My wife's pelvis was writhing in frantic response to the dry, tight intrusion, her mount popping forward in little jerks of pleasure. Then, zzzzzzzzikap! Myra's first cut sizzled upward, catching both tits just beneath the nipples. It seemed for a moment to cut them in half, so deep did the rod drive before it sprang back. "Oooheeee! No! I-"
WHAM! Alice drove the whip's handle straight up. I must have smashed or severely scraped Sandra's cervix and sent a bolt of fresh pain straight up through her guts. "No ... words!" Alice hissed. "I'm sorry! I won't ... Aaaaaagghh ... uuuh!" zzzzzzzzikap! zzzzzzzik! "Ooooooooohum!" Both Myra and Sharon had struck, the cuts to tits and small of back coming hard on Alice's second thrust of the whip's hilt to the cringing depths of my wife's cunt.
But now Alice withdrew the black probe and walked back to where Eldridge sat, a little to my right. "She's pretty far gone, Mason," she murmured. "I think we'd better take her down."
"Yes. In just a minute," he said tightly. "Let Myra get a few kicks, and then we will."
Myra was getting her kicks at that momen';. A gargoyle grimace of hate froze on her face as sne poured slash after slash of the spitting stick onto Sandra's reddened tits. She had moved to the side, and was using both hands and her whole body to burn the sizzling cuts in.
Sharon was stroking perhaps one blow to Myra's three, her jaw set and unsmiling, and she spaced them up and down Sandra's legs and back, never covering a former stripe with a fresh one.
But now Eldridge rose and called a halt to this phase of the proceedings, and while Skowron and I helped him take Sandra's sob-racked form down, the women prepared for the next ritual.
This consisted in all five of them lying on the huge plank table, three on one side, two on the other, their buttocks resting at its very edge, legs hanging down and spread wide. Eldridge half-carried Sandra to the nearer end of the table, placing her on her knees before Sharon's gaping, pulpy, sparse-haired gash.
"You want cock, Sandra; I know," he crooned, bending over her from behind as he held her shoulders. "And you'll have cock ... plenty of it. But first you must eat. A little Lesbian banquet, my dear, and then cock for dessert, eh?"
Sandra was now moaning and whimpering almost continually, but she nodded in immediate submission, then slumped forward, her face sinking straight into Sharon's swampy loins.
Eldridge lifted her hands to the table's edge, outside Sharon's thighs. "Don't fall asleep, my dear," he urged. "Keep that tongue moving, please."
Sandra's throat was working, and Sharon began to writhe and sigh, humping her hips up a little. But very soon, Eldridge pulled Sandra's head away and moved her along to the right, to. Laurel. As he did, Jack Deering stepped between Sharon's tensed thighs and drove his tool in.
"Rex, we'll need you," Eldridge called, while Sandra was rooting in the red-fuzzed mire of Laurels's slot. "And, gentlemen, please don't come. We want you all hard and loaded for the next activity, you know."
When Sandra was moved on to Alice, I stepped into the breach with Laurel, and when Eldridge again pulled Sandra back and led her around the table's end to where Irene's blonde pussy gaped open, Don Harvey appeared on my right, feeding his fantastic prong into Alice's well-lubricated hole. Cahill joined us in time to replace Sandra's tongue with his prick in Irene's cunt, and then for a long time I watched Myra Deering thrash and spasm, screeching joyously as Sandra tongued her close to climax. And at this point Sandra astonished me by reaching up to grasp and maul Myra's small breasts as she feasted in her furrow.
When Eldridge pulled her away at last, Skowron took over^ and drove Myra to a screaming, teeth-gnashing orgasm with perhaps six jarring thrusts of his thick marauder.
When I pulled abruptly out of Laurel, knowing I'd come if I let her grinding, gripping tissues hold ' me a second longer, I turned to find that Eldridge had already fastened Sandra's ankle cuffs to a pair of chains at the base of the long wall, and was just then attaching her wrists to the high pair, so that she stood spreadeagled against the rough stone, her back to the room's interior.
"Over here now, gentlemen," the older man called, tugging one edge of his black half-hood into place after his exertions. "The little lady had earned some cock!"
Sandra turned her head back sharply, and watched with hungry eyes as the five of us ... black-masked, naked, our pricks soaring before us like thick antennae ... moved toward her in a ragged group.
"I'm going to go first, gentlemen," Eldridge announced when we stood in a loose semicircle around Sandra's splayed form against the dark, ragged wall. "And, Vic, I'd like you to be last. The rest of you can work it out among yourselves. And, of course, use either hole, or both; and if you can come, in a reasonable amount of time, why, so much the better."
He turned to face Sandra. "You may talk now, my dear bitch. We'll want to hear you tell us how much you appreciate our cocks."
She couldn't turn her head far enough to meet Eldridge's eyes, and the chains held her so close to the wall that almost no movement of her torso was possible, so after trying to turn her face to him, Sandra merely tipped her head back, her chin pressed to the cold stone.
"Yes, Mason! Your cock! I need a cock in me! I can't... Uuhgh! Oh, thank you, Mason! Yessss! Oooooh, pump! Hurt me! My ... my tits are... ohhhugg! Smash them! Cut 'em! More!"
He was in her cunt, his knees bending slightly before each upward surge, and each one crashed Sandra audibly against the stone, scraping her shoulders and tits, her belly and hips against its rough surface.
His arms went out along hers, and he gripped her wrists, seeming to hang on her back for a second as he slumped down from each thrust, then snapping up to smash her once more against the thousands of tiny stone teeth that ate at her frontal flesh.
I stood farthest to the left in the waiting semicircle, and as Eldridge quickened and shortened his strokes in orgasmic frenzy, I could see blood-trickles flowing outward from Sandra's torn breasts and belly, under the pressure of his battering.
His pasping, coughing come was accompanied by shrill cries from my insatiable bitch of a wife. "More, Mason! Don't stop! Ohhh, hurt me! Cock me! More cock-fuck-smash-kill... FUCK, Mason!"
And when he dropped his arms and backed away.
"Oh! Oh, hurry! Somebody' give me cock! I can't-UHH!"
Cahill had leaped forward and flung himself flat against her, his head driving hers forward to smack against the stone wall. Now she was silent, dazed, and he stepped back a few inches, then drove his thumbs like talons into the crack of her ass, hooking the ruddy cheeks apart. There was stark madness in his face again, and when he had stabbed his pointy cock an inch or so into Sandra's stubborn tailhole, he began to pummel her high on the rib-cage, one fist and then the other, driving her from side to side, so that her tattered tits left smears of fresh gore on the stones.
CahilPs second lunge drove his cock hilt-deep, and he held there, his hips spasming from side to side as his fists continued to batter Sandra just beneath the armpits. He was coming already.
With one final fierce jerk and jam of his loins, he slammed his head forward, smashing his own forehead against the stone, to bite savagely into the taut muscle ridge joining Sandra's left shoulder to her neck. He had begun to shake his head, tearing viciously at the white flesh clamped between his teeth, when Skowron pulled him off, spun him easily around and pushed him headlong in the direction of Alice.
"Curb your dog before he kills the bitch!" Skowron snarled at the little brunette. "Put him to bed or something, for Christ's sake!"
Alice took Cahill in her arms, soothing him with whispers and caresses, Harvey stepped forward now, his huge cock arching up till it nearly touched his navel. He pried it forward, bent his knees and snubbed it up to Sandra's slot just as she regained her voice.
"Oh, yes! More cock! Pleeeeease! I need ... My cunt's. .. Ohhh! Who's ...? Yessss! All of it, Don! Ohhh, fuck me-eee!"
He had slid the first third in easily, then driven upward to sheathe the middle third, Sandra's straining cunt-rim compressing about it. But now, thrust as he might, her position seemed to prevent his driving the thick base into her.
Whether out of compassion or merely for better leverage, Harvey now reached around Sandra, wedging his hands up to cup her bloody breasts. Then, by pressing his chest to her back, he held her torso nearly still as he strove to propel his cock's broad base into her strained hole. Her hips and belly still grated against the wall with each looping forward jab of his loins, however, and little brooks of blood continued to spread across her thighs.
Sweat had begun to pour down Harvey's back, and Sandra's exhortations were sporatic now, her tone laced with pain, even as she urged him on.
"Oh, God! Yes! More! Ha-ugh-harder! Ohhhhh, good cock! Kill me!"
Harvey's thrusts still failed to sink the base of his massive meat out of sight. But the seven or so inches that he was able to work up and down in Sandra's clutching box were apparently enough, for now his rhythm broke, his back straightened, and, legs straining, he lifted Sandra as high as her leg-chains would allow, in a grinding, groaning frenzy of spurting delirium.
"Ohhhhh, I can feel it!" Sandra crowed. "Come, Don! Smash me ... fill me ... kill meeee ... ooohhhhyessss! Aaaahhgg ... COCK! MORE COCK!"
He had pulled out, and he nearly lost his balance and fell as he turned away from her, his hands and forearms smeared back and front with blood, both fresh and drying.
"Pleeeeease!" Sandy wailed, grinding her belly against the abrasive rock. "I need cock! Fuck me, somebody! Oh, hurry!"
Jack Deering, on my right, seemed to expect me to be next, but I shook my head, too revolted to want to approach this writhing, crazed bitch I'd been hoodwinked into marrying. I was hard, yes; but at that moment I'd sooner have stuck my aching cock into a garbage grinder than into the body of this screeching, spasming banshee.
Shrugging, Deering stepped up behind Sandra, pressed her buttocks apart and aimed his pointy tool at her anus.
"No!" she cried angrily. "My cunt! Cock in my cunt!"
"Shut up," Deering gritted, as he drove forward, sinking to the balls in one vicious stroke that smacked her belly against the stone. "Push back, and I'll take care of your cunt too."
Eagerly, and still begging for cock as if she couldn't even feel the solid intruder in her shit-hole, Sandra pushed her hips back from the wall, enabling Deering to cram both hands past the tops of her thighs, his fingers hooking into her bushy slot.
This grip proved even more effective than Harvey's at keeping Sandra's body in place. As her fucker whipped his meat in and out of her rectum, her breasts, shoulder-fronts and forehead were in contact with the ragged stone, but hardly moved at all; no new rivulets of blood appeared during the six or seven minutes it took Deering to empty his balls in the bitch's clutching bowel.
Throughout this period, Sandra kept up a hysterical tirade of instructions and pleas, alternately urging Deering to pinch and crush her clit; and screaming for a real cock in her cunt.
It was becoming more revolting by the minute, and when he came at last, I discovered that I'd lost my erection.
Deering stepped back, then moved away. Now only Skowron and myself stood close to Sandra, who was screaming for cock again as she battered herself against the unyielding wall she was chained to.
"Your turn, Tom," Skowron said, eyeing my shrunken, drooping prick. "Jack it up and stuff it in, kid. Come on!"
"Fuck you!" I spat back. "I live with this bitch!"
Then I calmed down a little, and smiled. "Look, I pass. I could get more kicks corn-holing the dog I bought to keep her supplied with cock."
Suddenly, on a vengeful impulse, I raised my voice, turning toward Eldridge and the others on the benches. "Hey, I'll bet she didn't tell you! I bought Sandra a big, horny dog named Bruno, and she's fucked him to a frazzle every night this week! Goes after him every morning, too, but even he can't stand that much of her! And tell 'em about this noon, Sandra. Tell 'em how you dashed home at noon for another go at Bruno's big prick!"
Suddenly Sandra was silent, her face pressed straight against the stone wall. Her body trembled.
"Tell 'em!" I raged. "They ought to know what a cock-crazy slut you really are! What a... What an animal! You'll never be a member of this club, Sandra! You'll be its mascot! All you are is one big, bloody, hungry cunt, walking around screaming for cock!"
She had begun to shudder violently, but still she spoke not a word. And as I spun away, still livid with anger, to sit by myself on the bench where Cahill had crouched earlier, Skowron moved up behind her.
"Here it comes, cunt," he said heavily. "Are you ready? Do you need it? When I'm through with you, there may not be much left but that hot slot of yours. But that's the only important part, anyway, isn't it, Sandy?"
She was still silent, her torso heaving now as she pulled in great gulps of air, her legs still shuddering.
Skowron slashed a flat-handed blow to the side of her head, breaking her cheek open against the stone. "ANSWER!" he roared. "When I ask a question, you ... "
"Yes!" Sandy shrieked. "Yes, yes, yes! Give me cock in my cunt! That's all that matters! Cock! More cock!"
"All right," said Skowron, butting his hips forward to drive Sandra's belly against the wall, his jutting cock still unsheathed. "I can beat your worthless brains out; right? Scrape your tits off, bore holes in your belly, cut your legs off for dogfood ..."
"Cock!" Sandra whimpered insanely. "Yes! Kill me with cock!"
"As long as you've got these two holes for cock," Skowron chanted, jamming his thumb abruptly into her anus and his fingers into her slot, to punctuate the word, "you'll be the same old Sandy. Right?"
"Yesss!" she screeched. "Anything! Just give me COCK!"
And then he gave it to her ... first in the cunt, for eight or ten. blistering explosions of his hips that drove her so forcefully against the jagged stones that blood sprayed out to both sides... And then, slamming his flat hands against her shoulders to wrench free, he drove his thick staff into her quivering ass and battered her even more fiercely, until thick rivers of her blood appeared on the wall between her widespread thighs, and made their jagged way down to form a spreading puddle on the floor.
"Cock!" Sandy kept screaming. "Cock-cock-cock-COCKOCK..."
Now Skowron slammed his black-hooded head brutally against the back of her neck as he dragged his prick from her bowels and drove it once more into the foaming chasm of her cunt.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Fresh rivulets of blood blazed crimson trails down the wall, as Sandra's mindless chant went on.
I lost count of the times Skowron shifted his slashing attack from cunt to asshole, asshole to cunt. It may have gone on for five minutes or twenty-five, his every stroke so violent that when he came, there was n» perceptible difference in the action, except that his grunts of exertion increased in volume for perhaps the last dozen heaving jolts that ground my bitchwife's gory pulp against the smeared and drizzling stone.
Then he fell back suddenly, spinning to his knees, eyes staring, gaping mouth drooling.
And Sandra was silent again, her bloodied head lolling back grotesquely, her legs in total collapse, so that she hung limp from the wrist-chains. I might have thought her dead, had not her breathing continued to heave her back and buttocks out from the wall in ragged spasms.
Eldridge lifted his head from Myra Deering's crotch, where they lay locked in 69 on one of the benches. "Magnificent, Vic! A perfect climax ... if I may so use the word ... to our new member's initiation!"
Skowron shook his head and clambered to his feet, then staggered toward the bench where Irene awaited him. Now Eldridge addressed me:
"Would you take her down and clean her up, please, Tom? I do think she'd want it to be you."
I nodded assent, and began to rise, but he went on.
"The rest of us, I think, will go upstairs, where there are softer surfaces to play on; eh, Myra? Join us when you like, Tom and even if Sandra's had enough cock for tonight, we'll see that you find a place for your prick."
As I moved to Sandra and knelt to study the fastenings of her ankle chains, the other members rose and went two-by-two up the stairs, leaving us alone.
For a moment, staring into the pool of blood between her feet, I almost felt sorry for Sandra. But she changed that quickly enough;
With a sudden breathy moan, she came awake, snapping her head up, her legs straightening. And as I rose to turn her face to me and tell her it was over ... before she could possibly have known it was I who stood close to her ... she croaked out, "Cock! More cock! I need ... "
"Sandy, stop it! It's over! Let me get you loose and-"
"Nooo!" she screamed, her eyes fixing brightly on me as I reached up to free her right wrist. "I want cock, Tommy! If you're not man enough to fuck me, then don't touch me. I hate you, hate you!"
I would have slapped her face, but it was a mass of torn skin and drying blood, and I was loath to touch it. Gritting my teeth, I moved behind her and freed the other wrist, and as she staggered back a step, snapping both ankle chains taut before she had her balance, I went to my knees again, bent beneath her ravaged body to remove her right ankle cuff.
"Tommy," she panted, "you've got to fuck me. Now! I need cock!"
I dropped my weight onto an elbow, turning my head back sharply to look up past the tattered mass of gore that had been her belly and breasts.
"No, Sandra. Not now, and not ever, bitch!"
She was silent then, her whole body shuddering as I turned back to the business of the leg chains. Then:
"Here, Tommy," she gritted hatefully. "This is for you."
Before I could pause to wonder what she meant... splut! A warm, gooey blob hit my shoulder and spread oozily onto my upper arm.
I jerked back, but that only caused me to catch the second blob of slimy shit on the side of my face.
Roaring with rage, I slammed straight up, my back catching her in the crotch just as a third turd burst from her flaccid asshole. But as I lurched erect against the wall, Sandra cartwheeled off me to the left, and then the one remaining ankle chain snapped tight and brought her crashing to the floor in a crumpled heap.
I bent and ripped that cuff open, grabbed her ankle in both hands and dragged her across the floor toward the alcove, her back leaving streaks of new blood on the stones.
I remember that blood, and the good tug of my leg muscles as I dragged her into the tiny bathroom in the alcove. I remember that her head bounced loosely off the base of the doorframe. Then, somehow, I had her on her feet ... conscious or unconscious, I know not ... and bent over the toilet as I held her waist from behind.
My cock was hard, and I know I drove it into her sopping cunt without help from my hands. Her face lolled in the toilet bowl, making bursts of bubbles as my savage lunges drove the breath from her.
"You want cock, you piece of shit? Here! Here! Here! Here!..."
I know that I didn't come. But how long it was before I stopped trying, I have no idea.
When I let her fall, she was dead.