I shuddered and the sound of my heart pounding grew louder still in my head, so loud I did not hear the footsteps approaching from beyond the stable door...
To say that the jailer Hacklebury had appointed for me was a big man would not be doing his size justice in any way, shape or form; Erik was huge. I would have found his height and bulk intimidating even in my real body, so imagine how much more terrifying and powerful he seemed to me trapped in Angelina's tiny five-foot frame.
There was something about him that said 'Viking' to me and indeed, I quickly discovered that he was Scandinavian, though I was never totally certain which of those northern countries he actually came from, perhaps it was a mixture of more than one. He spoke very clear English and so was able to communicate his instructions and requirements, if one did not count the peculiar backwards way he had of constructing his sentences, which after a surprisingly short time I came to cope with quite easily. Blond and bulky with muscles, Erik was also more than passably good looking, to the point of even being handsome to women who go for that certain ruggedness. And the fact that he was soft- spoken and prone to smiling a lot sometimes almost made me forget what he was there for, almost but not quite, for he was as ruthlessly efficient in the execution of his duties as he was casual in his handling of me.
Today, it seemed, was to be no different...
'Forward please, and over the rail to be bending.' Erik pointed to the crude trestle arrangement that stood in the centre of the stable cell adjacent to the one in which I was generally kept. Obediently, I shuffled towards it and lowered the upper half of my body over the waist-high horizontal rail. My nemesis quickly moved in and buckled the thick strap across the small of my back, preventing me from rising again until it was released. My arms were now quickly folded behind my back and secured there by means of heavy leather cuffs, and then my ankles were dragged wider apart and similarly fettered. Yet Erik had only just begun.
Behind me, I heard a rattling sound as he sorted through an assortment of bamboo and rattan canes lining a rack in the corner. It seemed that little, if anything, had changed during my short respite back in the twentieth century. I was to be beaten on a regular basis and, even though my buttocks had the questionable luxury of the tight leather for protection, I knew it was still going to hurt, especially when Erik began to trickle water onto my thin and tightly stretched hide. I felt his massive hands massaging the liquid in, and then bit into my gag in frustration when I felt his caresses fire off those all too familiar little crackerjacks of desire deep inside me. Damn this body! I thought.
The cane cut through the air and landed precisely in the middle of my left cheek. I squealed through my gagged lips like a piglet, unprepared for that initial scythe of fire despite the fact that I had been both caned and whipped during my previous incarnation here. The addition of the water treatment had a far greater effect on my punishment than I had anticipated.
'Six we shall be having and no more for now,' Erik crooned from somewhere behind me to my left.
Six strokes... well, it could have been far worse, I supposed, but any feeling of relief was instantly thrust aside as the cane hissed down again and delivered a matching cut to my other buttock. I yelped and bucked and only the fact that the trestle was bolted firmly into the floor prevented me from lifting it into the air despite its solid weight. Tears misted my vision and I whimpered and chewed desperately on the gag. Four more strokes to endure and already I felt as if my arse was on fire. Worse still, other more insidious embers of feeling were beginning to fan back into life and I knew that, pain or no pain, by the time Erik put aside his first weapon and began concentrating on his second, I would be hot and wet between my thighs and apparently eager for a cock that was built in proportion to the rest of him.
Swish and crack! Swish and crack! Two more strokes arrived at evenly spaced and unhurried intervals, each one landing just a finger's breadth below the first. I tried to scream but the gag made it impossible.
'Good it is that from inside your frustrations now relieving you are,' Erik all but sang.
I felt his hand exploring between my legs, probing between the laces that held the crotch opening of my suit together. I groaned again but this time more from embarrassment than pain, for not only did his finger probe easily through one of the gaps, it slid into me with no resistance whatsoever. I heard him grunt with what I presumed was satisfaction, and then the invading digit was withdrawn.
There was a pause, during which I closed my eyes and prayed desperately that he would quickly resume and complete my flogging, for I remembered Meg had promised me there would be variations on the main punishment theme, one of which was that I could expect to be whipped on my breasts. To my immense relief, however, this tactic was not on Erik's mind, at least not on this occasion, and the remaining two cuts duly arrived half an inch or so above the first pair. Then I dimly heard the rattle of the cane being dropped back in the rack, and blinked furiously to clear my vision.
I felt fingers again, this time pulling at the crotch laces, untying them and withdrawing them. I felt more cool air against my vulva, but I could also now feel the warm trickle of my juices across the flesh at the tops of my thighs. It still seemed unbelievable to me that this body, or any other body for that matter, could react in such a fashion. Every nerve fibre was stretched and throbbing with the anguish of the six strokes from the cane, and yet here I was going into full flood with my pussy throbbing for an entirely different reason.
'Good this is, you see?'
I realised that Erik was now standing in front of me and slowly raised my head as far as I could. I was not surprised to see that he had unfastened the front of his own leather breeches and that his manhood was now standing upright in all its undeniable glory. He moved forward, reaching down to unfasten the strap holding the leather gag that was now a sodden mass inside my mouth. And as he withdrew the foul stopper, offering me instead his own crown as a substitute, I knew that ordinarily I should have used my teeth and ensured he would be in no fit state to continue. However, it was as if some remote controller was ruling my temporary body as my lips dutifully parted to suck him in, stretching and distorting in order to accommodate the thick girth of his shaft. Fortunately, for I would surely have choked or suffocated had he continued for any length of time, Erik was content for me to simply lubricate him, though the heavens knew I was already well enough lubricated myself. After allowing me to suck him as far as the back of my throat two or three times, he withdrew his erection and patted the top of my leather-covered head.
'Good girl,' he said in a tone he might have used to commend a pet dog and moved quickly behind me again.
A second or so later, I felt his hard knob pressing between my nether lips and the sensation sent a lurching feeling through my stomach. Another second or so and he was in me, my sodden vagina stretching to accept him with unbelievable ease even though his length and width, once he was fully sheathed inside me and his heavy balls pressed hard against me, gave me the feeling of being completely stuffed.
'Ah,' he sighed, 'good this is, and now fucked you truly shall be,' he promised me.
I barely managed to suppress a sigh of my own for I knew he was quite capable of performing for a long time without reaching a climax whilst I, or Angelina, would begin to lose control at any moment. Sure enough, almost as soon as he began his languid piston-like motion, I found myself writhing in my bonds and attempting to thrust back to meet his advances, moaning each time he filled me again. Stars began to appear behind my closed eyelids, tiny exploding flashes of purple, green and white. Though I ground my teeth together in an effort to resist the pleasure, it was futile and the outcome inevitable.
It wasn't long before I heard myself screaming, not from the fire in my beaten buttocks every time his hard body crashed against them, but from the waves of insatiable desire and ecstasy that possessed me. Indeed, the pain was now absorbed into part of something else and the needling sensation merged with the heat of something I
knew should have shamed me totally, were I still capable of feeling such an emotion, which I clearly was not, at least not at the moment.
'Oh, yes!' I heard a voice echoing shrilly against the hard walls. As I dimly realised it was me who had shrieked out that barely human cry of exultation, the last of my resistance melted. 'Yes, you great bastard! Yes! Fuck me all you want, I... oh... oh!' What I wanted was obvious enough but I never voiced it for the words disintegrated into moans and groans, gasps and cries. I would hate myself for my capitulation later, but for the moment I cared for nothing more than the massive flesh-and-blood piston within my hot cylinder and the first of the many orgasms towards which it was inexorably driving me.
Strapped down over that trestle there was little else I could have done than surrender my tenanted body to the inevitable, but what followed was far less easy to account for. I can only suggest that in some way my mind had got 'moved' and events seemed to be taking place in that state we all sometimes experience in which they seem to be happening to someone else and we are merely observing them through a slightly smudged or smoky glass.
When Erik finally erupted inside me - and there was no doubting the moment even though I was away on my own planet by then - it was not quite the end of his efforts. He continued pumping away at me for probably another two to three minutes before I felt him gradually begin softening inside me. I should have been overjoyed or at least relieved, but despite the fact that I seemed to have spent half a lifetime writhing like a worm on the end of his hook, I experienced a wave of utter disappointment. When he withdrew from me completely and stepped back, I felt utterly empty and I don't just mean physically; I was absolutely desolate.
For his part, Erik seemed surprisingly drained by his efforts. I say 'surprisingly' because in my earlier encounters with the giant Viking he had always seemed inexhaustible. He released me from the backbreaking restraint, hooked a short leash to my collar and led me across to the far wall, where he slid down onto the straw with the rough stones at his back. Without being told, like an obedient dog, I sat down in front of him and, eyeing his tumescence still on display through the opening in his breeches, I slid myself close to him, extending one hand to take hold of it in my gloved fist.
I should explain here for new readers that apart from being tightly laced and buckled into leather mitts that reached up to become one with the sleeves of the horrible leather bodysuit I was wearing, my hands were also still inside the long gloves Meg had placed on me from the beginning, gloves that looked to be all style and elegance with one slight but important modification. The fingers of these satin niceties were all sewn together, with the thumb likewise sewn to the side of the glove and the lower part of the forefinger. Thus, with or without the mitts, my hands were close to being useless, at least where the performance of any particularly dexterous task was concerned. The double layer removed most of the sensitivity from all my digits, yet I thought I could feel Erik's dozing phallus as I gently began to manipulate it.
Through half closed eyes, he gazed down at my upturned face and smiled contentedly. 'Good it is that sweet you are now being to your Erik,' he said in his lilting accent.
Yes, I thought, good it is that you appreciate it, for more than ever now I was convinced that my best chance of surviving this ordeal, or at least of preserving Angelina's wretched body for whenever she eventually returned to it, was to make a friend of my jailer. And if I could not actually get him to change sides - unlikely, in that Gregory was probably paying him quite a lot of money for his services - then at least I could evoke some feeling of sympathy inside him for me which might prove helpful.
Also, if Erik began to believe I had now become a passive little pawn in this game, there was at least the hope that he might drop his guard and relax the strictness of the regime. Not that I had any real ideas with which to form a coherent strategy, for I also had not the slightest inkling of where I was save for the fact that I was being held in a recently constructed stone hut in a small compound somewhere in the woods of the Hacklebury estate. But just to get clear of my captors would be a start. The finish, if there was to be a finish, would have to take care of itself, if Meg did not take care of me first, that is.
And so I curled up against Erik's trunk-like thigh and cajoled and coaxed new life back into his member, if not apparently into the rest of him, which seemed content to relax and allow me to continue with my demonstration of submissiveness. Neither did his cock seem in any great hurry to return to full wakefulness. After several minutes, however, I had it all but giving me its full attention, so I leaned over his lap and took the gleaming head into my mouth. After that, it took but a few seconds more of my ministrations to get him fully erect again.
Erik, the rest of him, that is, did not seem in any great hurry to make use of the results of my labours. Instead, he closed his eyes completely and sighed heavily again, patting me on the head as if I were a spaniel that had finally grasped the idea of a trick. 'Good girl,' he murmured. 'Keeping this is what you must now be doing nice and hard and warm and wet in your sweet little mouth.'
My 'sweet little mouth' was in danger of losing its 'little' status if I was to make a habit of employing it in this fashion, for my lips were distended and distorted to accommodate his huge shaft. Yet I remained diligently at my task and worked steadily up and down his length, at least I worked up and down that first third of his penis that was all I could actually get into my mouth.
After a while, I thought I could detect a soft snoring sound. Damn the man, had he dropped off in the middle of all this, and with a hard-on from which you could have flown a fair sized flag? Was this the chance I was waiting for, presenting itself at such an early stage? However, I hardly dared risk stopping yet for fear the change in sensations might bring him back to wakefulness. Besides, there was still the matter of the leash from my collar, the other end of which remained tightly wound around his hand and trapped inside his clenched fist.
And then all thoughts of possible escape were banished, if they had ever truly been there.
'Ah, such a sweet tableau!' Meg exclaimed from where she stood in the open doorway, her hands on her hips, grinning wickedly down at me, the gleam in her eyes one of sheer malevolent triumph at what she obviously took to be the initial stages of my final humiliation. 'What a good little sucker you are, Angelina. The master should be here to see this, but unfortunately he is away on business this afternoon and won't be returning until evening.'
There was something in the way she imparted that little gem of information that made my heart sink, for violent in his ways as Hacklebury was, he was at least as predictable as any man could ever be, whereas Meg was definitely a criminal lunatic and, with her in charge, almost anything was likely to happen to me. However, I was not about to give her any more satisfaction than she had already gleaned by surprising me in my current position. I simply stared blankly up at her and continued to suck Erik's cock. Not, of course, that she would have been able to detect any facial emotion on my part, but I think I also managed to keep my feelings from my eyes after an initial second or so of surprise.
'Very good, Angelina.' She took half a step forward. I felt my spine tingle with growing apprehension, but she halted again and returned to her pose of hands on hips. 'Perhaps I shall have you in my bed this evening,' she said. 'That mouth seems hungry, and I can find it a different diet for a few hours.'
My mind flickered back to my present-day encounters with Anne-Marie. What Meg was suggesting was nothing I had not done with my new friend once she introduced me to the basics of all-girl sex, but somehow the thought of lying with my head buried between this woman's thighs, and being made to suck and lick her pussy, felt a world away from anything we had done in twentieth century Hampshire.
'Lick like the good little doggie, you are,' Meg said, 'like a hound, all brown and sleek. Perhaps we should get you a tail, and more.' She paused, pursing her lips. 'Yes, indeed, what a good idea, I shall give you to the master as his very own little lap
dog. That will amuse him greatly, I think, though first we must see to it that you are properly prepared and trained.'
Oh, Lord, I thought as I continued giving Erik's staff my full attention, what in the world has got into the bitch's malicious head now?
I did not have to wait long to find out. But first there were other ordeals in store for me. Although Meg soon left me to my self-appointed task, my respite was not to last much longer.
2.
'Poor Teena,' Anne-Marie cooed, stroking my knee consolingly. 'It must have been terrible for you.'
Andy, still dressed in his Andrea mode, had refilled my glass and now passed it back to me.
I sipped gratefully, the burning cognac tracing a line of warming fire down my throat when I swallowed. 'It was,' I agreed, 'but in a way completely different from what I might have been expecting, a way I can't really even begin to explain.'
'Well, it wasn't your real body,' Andrea pointed out.
I shook my head, partly in agreement but partly to indicate that my transvestite friend wasn't getting the point, and neither was she likely to. 'It wasn't,' I confirmed, 'but in a way it was, at least it was the only body I had for the time being, and I had no way of knowing whether or not I would survive to come back to this one if I was still in that one when it was killed.'
'Of course you would have,' Andrea insisted. 'It stands to reason that if your body here is still alive, then so are you.'
'Shut up, you daft bitch,' Anne-Marie snapped. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it, attempting to show me that she, at least, was trying to understand. 'It's easy enough for you to go all scientific and clever here and now, but Teenie was back there then.'
Thyme II Thyme Page 3
