Chapter 8
With a maximum of difficulty and an overabundance of excruciating pain, the barbed wire cage was literally torn off of Jeremy Garrick's sturdy young body. The barbs caught on his flesh again and again, tearing and ripping his skin, leaving innumerable bloodied cuts, bruises and ugly lacerations etched across his torso.
All this he was forced to endure, all this and more.
Jeremy still had no idea where his brother might be, though he was quite certain that he was in the house, no doubt as helpless as he was now. He was on the verge of calling out for Seth, despite the fact that his screams had echoed loudly moments before, when Lydia anticipated this fresh attempt at communication and hastily bound a gag around his mouth.
She tied it tightly behind his head, effectively silencing him, though not once and for all, as things would turn out. Upstairs, Seth did indeed hear his brother's loud high-pitched moans and cries of anguish and pain.
He knew it was Jeremy, even without having heard the young man's actual voice. And he knew as well that somehow Jeremy had been unable to effect a rescue. Somehow, Lydia had won once again and that now his younger brother was being forced to endure the kind of pain and debasing torture which he had already suffered at her cruel and savage hands.
But try as Seth might, all of his struggling got him nothing but blisters and skin rubbed raw and burning from the friction of the ropes against his flesh. Lydia had made sure to tie his binding ropes with special care, methodically testing each and every knot to make sure that Seth Garrick would be unable to untie himself and escape.
He too had been gagged and a moment later, in place of the hellish groans of agony which had come filtering up to the second floor of the house, Seth heard the telltale and unmistakable sounds of leather colliding with human flesh.
For even then Lydia had begun her program of discipline and revenge in earnest. "Ever hear of speed reading, boy?" she snickered, Naturally, now that she had gagged him, Jeremy could not reply. And so she went on in the same gay and merry voice, "Well, this is called Lydia's speed bondage course, coming to you direct from my school of obedience and respect."
He listened, hating her with every fiber in his being. But she had elaborated on the ropes first secured to his wrists and ankles. Now, he lay on his stomach, his torn trousers and under shorts having already been removed by Lydia's nimble and inquisitive fingers. His cock, she'd seen with one glance, had been soft, though even in repose it promised to be as thick and meaty as his brother's massive tool.
But for the time being, this did not concern her very much. She was able to further immobilize him by tying his ankles to his wrists and then tying rope almost nooselike around his neck, joined to his four pinioned limbs so that when he tried to lower his head, he found himself beginning to actually choke himself half to death.
So he tried not to move, his body arched in a bow, his shirt hanging in bloodied strips from his chest and shoulders. All but naked, he was a prime victim. And as such, Lydia could quickly see how he was just her type of stud, muscular, virile, no doubt well-hung and thus perfectly suited to stimulate her jaded sadosex-ual needs.
Having adorned his body with all manner of tight and confining bonds, she then changed her costume for the occasion, quickly removing the red vinyl mini and replacing it with far more revealing leather fashions.
He'd watched her, able to see her body in all its lush naked glory, transfixed by the sight of her meaty cunt with its glistening and juice coated vaginal flaps, its dense and wiry thicket of curly pubic hair. Her breasts were similarly ogled, even when she strapped them down by buckling a wide black leather garrison belt decorated with gleaming studs around her chest.
Its mate was similarly buckled around her hips and pussy, partially concealing her wet and throbbing twat from his all-consuming gaze. Lastly, she'd attached a short and narrower length of studded belt-leather down the middle of her chest, over her stomach and navel. It served to link the belt across her jugs with the belt pressing tightly against her meaty snatch.
The hip-high red vinyl boots remained, functional as well as lethal. And to complement them, she now sported arm-high red leather gloves that were stretched tightly and cling-ingly all the way up her arms. The bizarre -- in his eyes, at least, for he'd never seen a costume like this before, not once in his life -- and arousing outfit almost dulled his natural defenses.
But when she began her punishment, he was quickly brought back to complete and total attention. Armed with a bullwhip in-one hand and the spiked leather punishment paddle in the other, Lydia now began to alternate her whacking strokes.
Jeremy's bare and defenseless buns took the brunt of her venomous and sadistic rage. Lydia could not stop herself and she swung the spiked paddle down with a crashing blow, puncturing both of his trembling buttocks at the same time.
His pain was indescribable, hellish to the extreme. But when Jeremy tried to twist out of the reach of the paddle, the rope linking his neck to his wrists and ankles pulled taut and he began to choke, nearly strangling himself to the point of blacking out.
He lay there on the living room floor, debased and now put to such sheer and unmitigated horror that he couldn't believe this was all happening, that there were women in the world like Lydia Rinaldo who took such great delight in wounding and sorely maltreating anyone who had a cock instead of a cunt.
His thoughts were as feverish as his bloodied ass cheeks. Lydia brought the bullwhip down with hard and potent force, slashing deliberately right between the cheeks of his wounded rump. As a result, the long length of braided leather scored a most fiendish blow along his anal furrow, tearing the tender and sensitive flesh of his perianus.
To see him there before before her, literally immobilized and now cowering and whimpering with pain and fear, could not have pleased her more. His muffled groans rang out from behind the tightly stretched gag which covered his mouth and she wondered if upstairs, his brother could hear her torturing Jeremy.
It came to her then that it would be even more humiliating as well as emotionally unnerving if Seth could watch her whipping and spanking his younger brother. "So the knight in shining armor didn't quite manage to rescue the damsel in distress, did he?" she snickered, tearing into his ass with the paddle yet again.
He jerked back and forth, feeling the long searing wounds left in the wake of her twin implements of terror. And when she used the bull-whip again, she managed to sear right down against his dangling scrotum, making him scream behind the gag as if she was burning him up alive.
His balls pulled back almost defensively and the incredibly sensitive flesh of his scrotum felt blistery and hot, prickled with the imprint of the long braided leather bullwhip. She'll stop at nothing, he thought to himself, not knowing how to escape, how to get out of her clutches.
Right now he was tied so completely that escape was most certainly out of the question. It was thus that Lydia could afford to take her time, systematically bloodying every square inch of his firm muscular buttocks.
And when she had turned their smooth resilient flesh into hash, she pushed him over onto his side, kicking him with her foot so that he was forced to roll with the blow. His cock hung limp and shriveled over his balls, but that too she decided to attend to, for pain was never fun to inflict unless it was mixed with liberal doses of sexual activity.
Even then she knew she was getting off on what had happened, on what she was doing to the Garrick brothers. The wide black leather garrison belt rubbed and abraded against her pussy, making her cunt lobes puffy and hot. Thick murky gushes of vaginal dew streamed down the walls of her twat, moistening her pubic bush and coating the rough inner surface of the cowhide with a thick slippery layer of oily cunt juice.
She pressed her thighs together, allowing him the pleasure -- amidst his awesome and considerable pain -- of staring unabashedly at her all but naked body. "You dig it, don't you, boy?" she snickered, palming her cunt and delicately toying with the visible edges of her meaty trench.
His pain-filled eyes opened wider, staring up at her with genuine excitement. It was something he couldn't understand, this duality, this dichotomy that existed both in Lydia and now manifesting itself in himself as well.
For even if she had tortured him, he could still look at her with rare and heated sexual attraction, excited by the lush display of her voluptuous body. Her long piano fingers with their blood-red polished nails swooped down along the insides of her thighs, tickling and caressing her flesh.
Her jugs, pressed down by the leather belt, nevertheless managed to sway hotly, inviting him to stare and ogle her with silent adoration. "Do you want a lick, boy?" she said, throwing her raven-haired locks back and giggling sarcastically. "How'd you like to suck my cunt for days, boy, days at a time? Do you think it would turn your little pee pee on, kiddo?"
She glanced down between his shackled thighs, pleased to note that his cock was already beginning to show marked signs of response. It wiggled and bobbed back and forth, slowly rising up towards his lean flat stomach.
She watched the process of erection for a few more silent seconds. And when the young man's pecker had assumed its full and erect proportions, she was delighted to observe that it was nearly an identical twin of his brother's.
Both Seth and Jeremy had inherited well-hung genes, to put it mildly and the sturdy ivory-white column of meat which now filled her gaze was already throbbing, leaking slippery trickles of pearly pre-seminal fluid which dribbled out of the naked and bulbous head of his tool.
"How cunning, to have such a little thing and then make it grow, just like that," she exclaimed, snapping her fingers and knowing that it was time she really demonstrated her abilities, the ways she knew about to completely dominate and control both brothers at the same time.
So she set to work with businesslike efficiency.
Care was taken not to loosen any of his limbs so that even though she changed the bonds which tied him so completely, he still could not pull free. When she was finished, he at least had a little more mobility, for a short length of heavy iron chain linked his wrists together, joined to two handcuff-like leather wristlets which shackled his arms.
Identical chains and shackles adorned his ankles, his legs held together by another short and confining length of chain. But Lydia did not stop there. Not content with merely keeping him at bay by holding his arms and legs together, she found a far more diabolical and confining means of keeping him prisoner.
When he tried to lift his hands to push her aside, Count was on him in a flash and his naked body, already covered with weals and bloodied wounds, was doubly sensitive to the Great Dane's powerful claws. So he froze and allowed her to do what she had started to, inserting a nose ring which she opened wide, pressing the edges flush against his nasal septum and pushing them tightly together.
She nearly pierced his septum and the pain made his nose bleed freely. From the ring a length of chain dangled which she held tightly in one scarlet-gloved hand. "You might say that now I've got the bull by the horns," she giggled, amused at her pun as she whipped off the gag and let him howl with panic-stricken terror.
But even as he moaned and the chains clanked ominously all around him, he found himself being reluctantly dragged from the living room and up the stairs that led to the rooms on the second floor of the house. As if to complement what Lydia now saw as a kind of grand entrance, excited by the prospects of Seth's horrified reaction to his younger brother's cruel imprisonment, she had taken the time to remove the confining leather belts which had first turned Jeremy on.
Now, he was able to see her cunt without anything concealing it. Totally exposed it seemed even meatier and juicier than before. Likewise, her breasts were resplendent orbs, their wide prickled areolae and berry-red nipples straining and tossing back and forth before his flushed and reddened face.
And in between pussy and tits, cunt and boobs, her supple flesh was accented by a skintight and clinging black satin waistlet. It's elastic panels made her waist even narrower than usual and, as a result, her hips flared out with dramatic aggressiveness, making him drool at the sight of her.
This delightfully revealing and stimulating undergarment, a fetishist's dream corselet, caused the matching red hip boots and gloves to glisten and almost burn as if they were composed of flames, shockingly iridescent, perhaps catching the tortured look reflected in his own haunted and red-rimmed eyes.
"Now it's time for the family reunion," she announced as Count led the way, the dog's massive and powerful body having already put the fear of death in young Jeremy Garrick, he found himself being forced along on all fours, his knees scraping along the floor and the nose ring causing more blood to drip down, coating his lips and trickling down over his chin.
She continued to hum a little ditty, laughing all the while as she dragged him up the stairs and down the hallway to the bedroom where Seth Garrick was imprisoned. With a great show of theatricality, she kicked the door open with her high-heeled boot and stormed inside, dragging Jeremy along with her as if he was her pet, her dog, and not the Great Dane.
Seth was naked, tied to the bed in a fiendishly tight and torturing spread-eagled position, his arms and legs pulled painfully apart so that any move he made resulted in excruciating muscular discomfort and spasms of agony.
But when he took one look at the bruised and battered body of his younger brother, he turned into a raging animal, almost psychotic as he groaned behind his gag, shaking against the torturous bonds which secured him to the bed.
"Now, isn't that is a pretty sight," laughed Lydia, eying one brother and then the other. "The two boys have come home to mama at long last. Jeremy, say hello to your brother Seth. He's all tied up at the moment!" She laughed uproariously at her pun, delighted with her cleverness and sense of humor.
It took all of thirty seconds to remove the nose ring and replace the length of chain, a leather adorned dog leash as it were, to the bed, securing it so that Jeremy could not throw himself upon her or hobble out of the room, even with his anklets and wristlets confining and shackling his sturdy young body.
And when that was taken care of, she continued to hum to herself, listening to Seth's muffled groans, to the words of entreaty which now flew out of Jeremy's throat. He began begging her to release them, promising her anything as long as she let them go, money, whatever she wanted.
"Money?" she said, opening a dresser drawer and taking out a long studded black garrison belt with a wicked buckle at one end. "I have no need of money, little man. Why do you think I can afford not to work? I'm well-heeled. Daddy loved his little girl and he left me quite a fortune, if I do say so myself. And if I do say so, your brother here has been a very very naughty little man. He must be shown the proper way, the path to respect, obedience. Don't you agree, Jeremy my pet?"
Then, with a wild cackle of glee, she swung the hideous belt over her head and brought it down, buckle end first, right against Seth's naked body. He screamed with terror as the buckle tore into his groin, narrowly missing his limp cock which hung down between his thighs.
"I think Jeremy should have a chance to speak to you, lovie," she went on, moving up to Seth's tear-stained face and whipping off the gag.
His screams echoed loudly in the air as she moved back to the foot of the bed and resumed her agonizing and debasing job of punishing the shit out of him. Jeremy got down on his knees and raised his hands, begging and whimpering as tears of pity for his brother and pity for himself, streamed down his cheeks.
But this display of emotion, this display of sibling affection as it were, only served to inflame her senses all the more. By now her cunt was on fire, leaking hot droplets of slippery cunt juice. She needed to be satisfied, needed to come and feel the glorious mindlessness of her climax.
But even more than that, she needed to prove to these two arrogant men that she was the boss, the one in command, the one they would have to obey or suffer the consequences. "We're going to put on a play," she announced, even as the loud thwack of the belt making contact with Seth's pain-racked body filled the air.
Leaving it at that, she made her preparations without further ado. Her consummate skill, her cleverness and ultimate insight into human behavior, enabled her to succeed, just as she had succeeded in the past.
Of course they attempted to free themselves, but she knew exactly how to go about keeping them her prisoner. And so it was that less than fifteen minutes later the transformation was complete and she stepped back with a swagger, admiring her skill, her handiwork and cunning, as it were.
For now, in place of the ropes which had bound Seth Garrick to the bed, the two brothers were finally joined together, just as Lydia had imagined when Jeremy had revealed his true identity. They were handcuffed securely together while their ankles bore ball and chains, convict fashion, weighing them down and hopelessly immobilizing them.
They could only shuffle along, their ankles joined as were their wrists, Siamese twins cast from a diabolical mold, one that only the insidious and dominating Lydia Rinaldo could have thought of. And, what was more, they were no longer naked.
She had gotten them to don the most demeaning of garb, matching costumes which she had found in her clothes closet. Each brother wore black mesh nylon stockings, oversized high heels specially designed to fit a man's foot, as well as identical parlormaid uniform in the French fashion of bygone Victorian days.
These were replete with little lacy white aprons and matching caps secured by bobby pins to the top of their heads. The stockings felt hot and itchy, incredibly confining and uncomfortable. But the parlormaid's black uniform was even more annoying.
It was so tight that their waists were pinched in and their hips flared out with feminine unnat-uralness. Plus the fact that their ankles tended to buckle, already weighed down by the ball and chain, and they were reduced to the most humiliating and uncomfortable of circumstances.
But they knew it was better than being actually whipped and physically tormented, so they kept quiet. The moment they tried to whisper to each other, she stopped them with well-aimed whipping blows. She dressed before them, not wanting them to talk and figure out a means of escape.
Their forced silence lent an equally mysterious and frightening air to the proceedings. And though they were both ogling her body, able to appreciate her raw materials as it were even though they both reviled and despised her, both Seth and Jeremy were considerably intrigued and amazed by the costume she had donned for her little play-acting game.
Bizarre wasn't even the word for it.
When she had completed her change of clothes they were silent and with good reason, having never seen nor imagined such an outlandish and yet strangely frightening costume. Lydia was pleased with the look of confusion which came into their eyes as she paraded back and forth before them, swaggering and filled with self-confidence and burgeoning sado-sexual excitement.
Her high-heeled pumps were perhaps the only normal part of her dress. In place of her usual leather clothing she now wore what was basically a man-tailored black tie and tails. But this formal evening dress was far from conventional.
For other than the cuffs of the trousers, the tails behind her back, the top hat perched on her head and the wide satin lapels of the jacket, the remainder of the outfit was at once completely and absolutely transparent, fashioned of clear plastic, a lightweight vinyl material often used for women's raincoats.
Thus it was that they could see her jugs swaying back and forth beneath their clear vinyl covering, as well as her hot and musky trench visible and exposed between her slim and shapely thighs. She had even stuck on a false moustache, her appearance at once absurd and villainous, recalling turn-of-the-century characters, Black Bart and the like.
But they made an odious mistake by giggling, both amused and turned on by her clothing. Laughter, especially aimed at herself, was the last thing Lydia had expected to hear from either of them. She had quieted down somewhat, but when she heard them suppressing giggles of amusement her temper flared up volcanically, erupting with renewed violence and sadistic excess.
Snatching a cat-o'-nine-tails off the top of the dresser, the salt-soaked leather whip that Seth was already on rather intimate and familiar terms with, she lashed out, striking them across their faces, the vinyl formal attire rustling and swishing loudly, clinging to her body.
"You dare laugh, you two impudent little faggot bastards!" she yelled. "Well, we'll just see who has the last laugh around here, cock-suckers!" And leaving this treat literally hanging in the air and over their heads, she moved closer and pushed their faces together, using the whip like a goad to get them to perform the way she wanted.
"Kiss him, stick your tongue down his throat," she told Jeremy, pushing his lips flush against his brother's mouth.
And when he didn't move, closing his eyes, not so much disgusted -- for Seth was still his brother and knew the meaning of this new form of abuse -- lydia grew even more temperamental and savage. The cat lashed out at him, striking him across the backs of his stockinged thighs and making him recoil and moan with the searing lacerating pain.
"Now do as I say or face the consequences, pig," she sneered, shoving him forward and forcing his lips up against his brother's mouth once again.
"It's okay, she's sick. We'll make it, we'll get out, kiddo," Seth whispered.
Unfortunately, Lydia had good hearing and she had heard every word of Seth Garrick's barely audible and bolstering remark. "Oh, is that so? You two are going nowhere, let's get that straight. Not until I've had my fun with you, in any event. And that won't peter out for weeks, perhaps even months, at the very least."
And with this fresh threat making them shudder involuntarily, the cat-o'-nine-tails complemented her words by singing its own punishing song. It sliced through the air, coiling like tentacles around both of their legs at the same time and nearly causing them to fall back and lose their balance.
"Now shove your tongue down his throat and give him a nice big sloppy kiss, faggot," she said again, pushing Jeremy forward until the young man had no other choice but to thrust out his tongue and shove it right between his brother's lips. Seth too closed his eyes, just as humiliated as his brother, just as filled with raw and barely suppressed hatred for the cruel and debasing Lydia Rinaldo.
But if they thought they had come to the end of their ropes, or the end of their chains as it were, they were soon to be let in for an even bigger surprise. Because now that she had gotten started, Lydia was not about to stop for anything or anyone in the world. This, as the Garrick brothers would soon and unfortunately realize, was pal lied, tame in comparison to what was soon to follow.