Enslaved by Charybdis

by Bruce McLachlan

  ‘That’s it, slave, feel that big rod filling you! Swallow it all the way. You can take it, you know you can.’ He drove it back in, dancing the toy in and out of her with relentless shoves and pulls.

  Crying out from the sheer bizarre pleasure of the experience, she swayed and writhed against the pillory, her mind reeling.

  ‘Come on, you can yell louder than that.’ The Titan thrust his toy inside her, repeating the deed again and again, and ravishment by a ribbed jelly phallus was an ordeal she could hardly stand the pleasure was so intense. Dragging it from side to side he applied the device more forcefully, increasing his rate, turning Mina into a quaking wreck. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her sight blurring from the intensely excruciating joy. ‘You make a luscious sight, slave. This must be quite an experience for you, and there’s still so much more of it left for you to devour.’ The paddle swung up between her legs, applying itself to her inner thigh.

  Wailing into the gag, Mina struggled and fought to evade his new assault upon her, the sharp explosions of effulgent heat in her thighs more than she could take. But Atlas used his toy to keep her in place, the shaft possessing just enough rigidity that he could use it as an inserted lever by which to hold her up. When the smacks of the paddle caused her to buck more than he could control, he rammed the rod deep, forcing it to her limits, driving her bottom forward so that she could not sag as he applied the paddle with alacrity.

  Eventually the Titan wrenched the dildo out of her sphincter. ‘I think it would do us all good to play to some music, and I think it only fitting that the star of our show provide it for us,’ he said, making Mina worry about what he meant.

  A sudden compression locked to each of her teats, the clamps taking hold and hanging lifelessly beneath her, her nipples stretched by the weights upon them. She groaned and shook, her rabid breaths swinging the weights - a collection of small bells that chimed merrily. Her struggle made them pull on her nipples all the more, the clamps hauling at her breasts as more of the accursed devices were installed, the noble clipping them all over the surface of her assets.

  ‘Not bad,’ he remarked, ‘but it’s a little bland. I think you need much more in the way of backing.’ He chuckled as Mina mewled against her gag, openly soliciting clemency even though she secretly ached for more while simultaneously reviling what had already been done to her.

  More bell-armed clamps were attached to her breasts, a starburst of fierce pinches that had her straining to gather enough breath through her nose to protest in heartfelt moans, the applications seeming to swallow up her air, stealing what she required to express her distress as she endured their terrible bites.

  ‘There, that’s better, but I think a full orchestra would better sing your departure from my domain, slave. What do you think?’ He listened to her cries of angst as he stroked her belly with the padded jaws of more clamps, tracing them threateningly against her skin.

  Moaning in abject distress and rapture, Mina felt more clamps grab her hips, hanging from her skin as her miserable shivers were transformed into merry metallic songs, the chimes seeping into her ears even over her hissing breaths and smothered yowls. Then even more jaws grabbed her inner thighs, and the last of them took hold of her vulva, these being the worst to bear, her response to their application making every bell jingle more loudly than before.

  ‘A nice melody, but we need a master conductor to make them all perform at their finest, don’t we, slave?’

  Mina’s eyes bulged with horror when she felt the cold back of a clamp brushing her roused clitoris. She tried to beg him not to do this, not to scorch her with the worst of the clamps, but he merely listened to her garbled distress with a savouring silence, continuing to tease her sex with the last implement. Then the jaws opened and grabbed the morsel of flesh before being released, and she broke into fits of panic, the shock of having to carry so many harrowing holds making her insides churn with woe. She wailed against her gag as the pain was again manipulated by the Titan, his restoring of the ribbed jelly into her anus making her shake and battle the twin storms of utter duress and wonderful bliss. The tune of the bells answered her every buck and spasm, her body controlled by random twitches and wriggles, her mastery over it usurped by the overwhelming presence of the clamps and the driving thrusts of the dildo. Against all reason she could feel a climax beckoning in the distance, gathering like a storm on the horizon. How could she orgasm in such terrible woe? Had she been educated to such an extent that even though she hated this pain it was titillating some hidden recesses of her being, harnessing a licentious need, which only a short time ago had been in its infancy?

  The wand broke her indecision as it brushed against her sex. Her tortured clitoris vibrated at a fever pitch, and the drum roll of shuddering attention dissolved her upon it. Torn by so many stark sensations, she was delivered mercilessly up to a peak of pleasure, the bliss swarming with clouds of razor-edged angst. Screeching against her gag, Mina felt herself rising to the summits of ecstasy, and at that very moment Atlas released the clamps on her clit and her vulva, dropping them away and forcing the dildo deep inside her. The shattering flush of feeling back into the squeezed tissues made her mind snap like overextended elastic, her body jerking into a twisted, straining pose that made the pillory bend and creak as it sought to accommodate the wild throes of her response. Her climax was charged with the most terrible and venomous intensity, the suffering magnifying it infinitely and throwing her above any plateau of bliss she had ever experienced. And then the sudden extraction of the jelly as Atlas pulled it out of her flung her still further upwards, her eyes rolling back and her lips breaking free of the tape as they defeated the adhesive strip, the foam ball spilling from her lips as a soul-torn, inhuman howl filled the room. And then a black fog spilled through her senses without warning, consuming them as her body sought to protect itself from the overload of sensation and plunged her into a dead faint.

  Chapter 12

  Floating up through the smothering blanket of her swoon, Mina’s mind conjured up a daydream of rising up through ocean depths. The whirling watery vortex of Charybdis had sucked a vacant, barren shell of a woman down into the abysmal trench of his domain, and now, as a dazzling angel of depravity, she was rising back towards the surface. Erupting out of the sea she flung her arms wide, her body glowing with the incandescent fury of the sun, the water sizzling as lines of steam trailed from her ascending form and fell away to form clouds around her as she continued flying ever higher and higher...

  With a sudden spluttering series of coughs, Mina jerked awake and found her apathetic form lying in the arms of Atlas. The Titan cradled her against him where she lay curled up on his lap with his arms about her, soothing her as she slowly came to.

  ‘There, slave, it’s all right, you’re fine, you just passed out from the shock, that’s all,’ he said softly, his tone caring.

  ‘I - I’m sorry, master,’ she managed to croak. She felt embarrassed that her body had given out and denied him, and she was even more vexed she had collapsed. Fainting always seemed like some weak feminine act.

  ‘Sorry for what, sweet slave?’ he asked with a bemused frown.

  ‘I don’t know what happened, I was, I...’ she began, unsure of what to say to try and repair the damage to her pride.

  ‘Don’t be foolish, slave. Lack of decent regular sleep and food were responsible for your passing out. I was going to ensure you got a hearty meal after our session, but watching you cavort against the stocks, I just couldn’t help myself. Oversight and overindulgence prompted your collapse, slave, nothing else. Here.’ He indicated a tray before her, the plates upon it offering a variety of meats, vegetables and fruits.

  Mina tried to turn her mind towards food, but she was too overwhelmed recalling her ordeal, and the sheer indescribable ecstasy she had been completely enveloped by. It had been an almost spiritual event. She had tasted a decadent god in those moments, felt hi
s power course through her, converting her even more fully to a dark hedonistic faith.

  Glancing about the room she found only Celaeno and Merope were recognisable where they stood on either side of a black trunk. Standing behind them were four robed figures, the women adorned with a leather version of the same uniform Mina had first seen them encased in what felt like an eternity ago. Clearly, she was going to be fed and then dressed to join them for her voyage down to Hephaestus.

  Her heart leapt and filled with emotion as she thought of Oceanus and Tethys, her memories of them distinct and wonderful. How she ached to go back to them, to escape and flee into their arms and never leave them again. She had tasted deeply of Atlas’s passions, and though they had been a tremendous and enlightening experience, they were no match for the deep love of the couple she adored and who nurtured her so effectively. Her main source of regret about leaving here so soon was that she would be deserting Maia. She would have liked to spend more time with the woman, and she consoled herself with the thought that Maia wielded some sort of authority and might be able to arrange a meeting between them at some future date.

  Beset by a plethora of feelings and obligations to her new creed of experience, Mina shuffled forward and began to help herself to some food. Her mind was the most ravenous part of her, desperate to quaff every piece of perverse fare it caught the scent of and sink its fangs into it. This hunger had replaced the more mundane physical variety as her physique craved more and more punishment, sex, and bondage, and could not be bothered with anything as trivial as sustenance. Nevertheless, each mouthful was a delight that melted on her palate, making her moan with pleasure as she helped herself, having forgotten how good food could taste.

  ‘You see, there are other physical delights for the Epicurean soul, nymph,’ Atlas commented with a smile, and leaned back to watch her find new contentment and satisfaction from the meal he had offered her.

  Mina heard the words but was too busy enjoying her feast to really process them. But once she had pushed her stomach to capacity and could find no more room, she was forced to abandon her appetite. If she could have she would have finished all the food, but now she was bloated and even more immobilised. She knew it was probably a bad idea to be such a glutton when faced with new bondage, but she did not know when she would be eating again. Besides, the meal had been splendid, and to her starved palette, as well as to her new crusade to find pleasure everywhere, had been a marvel to her.

  Looking towards her awaiting outfitters and the wall of robed Pleiades, she glanced back at Atlas over her shoulder. The Titan patted the cushions beside him in beckoning, and with a spry scamper, she turned and curled up beside him, lying down and letting the laziness of her long sleep lull her into a soft slumber as she digested the feast he had offered her.

  ‘Celaeno, Merope, perform for me,’ Atlas requested absently.

  The two diminutive women stepped forward into the middle of the room and fell into each other’s arms, their bodies entwining, their lips taking up flesh and sucking and kissing, applying small nips to make each other stiffen and groan. Sinking to their knees, their leather-clad digits began caressing and fondling, serving up breasts to their partner’s mouth. They spent little time in idle enjoyment, constantly changing their position to keep their master amused. Mina glanced at them on occasion, the sounds of soft moans and slick bodies writhing against each other attracting her attention. Atlas watched with half-hearted intensity, occupying his mind and eyes as Mina rested. Again and again the girls brought each other to orgasm, their long display of lesbian lust letting Mina digest her meal to a decent and safe degree.

  ‘That will do,’ Atlas stated. ‘Now proceed with shipping this nymph out of here.’ He interrupted their show and the two girls promptly walked over to grab Mina by the arms and take her with them. They removed her stockings and suspender belts so she stood naked except for her collar, facing Atlas so he might study her countenance as she was entombed in his leather restrictions.

  Tight leather opera gloves were placed on her hands, the material lined with a stretchy interior of dense latex to ensure a good grip against her skin and to make the vestments even more uncomfortable. The women drew them up her arms, forcing her hands into the fingerless mittens at the end before using three buckles at the top to tighten them about her upper arms. Then Celaeno supported her while Merope drew a stocking up each of her legs, the three buckled straps of the latex-lined leather hose fastening firmly to her upper thighs. Knee-high patent boots were set over the tight sheathes, the women setting her in the heels and then lacing them to her calves, the top of the boots fitted with a wide strap that accepted two small padlocks which made them utterly immovable.

  A corset was her next garment, the stringent hourglass shape formed by steel-boned leather, the dense hide treated on the inside with the same smothering latex shell. Buckles on either side dangled unused, ready to accept some mode of crotch band, while suspenders hung from the lower hem. Both sides were laced, so once she had stepped into it, Mina had Celaeno in front of her with Merope behind her as both women worked in unison to draw the clamping jaws of the garment closed. Once it was in place they began the process of tightening it, drawing the sides ever closer together, stealing away more and more of her waist and compressing her ribs, making her sigh with delectation at the feel of being crushed into servitude.

  Being laced into a corset was a wonderful experience for Mina, the continual thinning of her body under its irresistible influence, the impossible tightness upon her chest as her breasts were squeezed into the moulded cups. Her legs became weak experiencing the complete ferocity of the cocoon, making her glad she had been allowed time to digest her full belly of food. The wide suspenders that dropped from the hem of the corset snagged her stockings, further helping support them as the mysterious crotch strap was taken up, the leather strip being first buckled to the back of the corset. Her legs were parted a little and the strap brought between them, revealing by the brush against her naked inner thighs the embellishment of two squat plugs upon it. The slick toys were steered into her and driven up by the tightening of the crotch strap to the front of her corset. Mina moaned and rose to her toes, her heels wiggling in the air like conductor’s batons as she accustomed herself to the renewed presence of intruders. Opened by the toys, she settled down as the front of the strap was buckled into place, pressing the strip and the plugs even more forcefully into her. Her thighs shook a little as she shifted her loins, manoeuvring herself upon the stubby trespassers, her tracts clenching around them. She strained a little to try and see if she could play them, but the tightness of the band prevented her from ejecting them even the slightest degree.

  Thick leather trammels were set upon her ankles and wrists. Twin buckles crossed their opening to seal them to her, and a pair of D-rings between them accepted a padlock to impose added security.

  A short hobble chain about a foot in length was snapped to her fetters, and her wrists were brought before her and locked together with a stout padlock.

  A second set of cuffs were locked just above her elbows, and by pulling away, the women dragged Mina’s wrists against her corseted belly. Hauling back they made sure her hands could not move, and then they tied her elbow restraints together, pulling the rope connection to thrumming tension.

  Unable to move her arms in the slightest as they were contorted against her compressed body, Mina was forced down onto her knees, moving with stiff awkwardness. The corset refused to bend, turning her spine into a rigid pole. The use of her body was being eaten away with every passing second, and there was nothing she could, or even wanted to do, about it.

  A thick leather faceplate appeared, the slightly padded latex interior pressing so tightly across her mouth that it created a near hermetic seal. The twin oval bulbs on the inside were threaded over her lips and into her mouth, leaving her teeth biting the rubber-padded nozzles that went through the plate and emerged from
the other side to be armed with inflator bulbs. The thick chinstrap was tied into place, and the two belts that emerged from the sides traversed her crown and the back of her head and were tightened with firm yanks. The faceplate pressed against her skin, and the two straps that rose on either side of her nostrils were taken up and lifted across her head. The two intersected at the bridge of her nose, travelled her head in a high loop, and connected to the line around the back of her neck. The women ensured that all the straps were squeezing her skull as effectively as they could, and then they closed their small fists around the loitering bulbs.

  Mina gave little struggles of protest as the two balloons began to swell between her lips, grinding her tongue into the bottom of her mouth as the orbs continued to grow. Her jaw was spread apart with greater intensity, forcing it against the leather straps as her mouth was continually filled with thick latex. Snorting through her nostrils and keeping calm, she closed her eyes and applied herself to enduring the choking gag, the corners of her jaw already starting to ache from the unusually intense inflation.

  A high posture collar was clamped about her throat, the padded interior gripping firmly to her neck as her head was forced up and to attention. Set upon the dense walls of the collar, Mina found she could not nod, shake her head, or move it in any way.

  A metal pole was then placed between her legs, the clip at one end snagging the centre of the hobble chain, the other end being locked to the crotch band and totally preventing her from kneeling, wilting, or offering more than a token strain to her chains.

  The final and most obvious portion of her attire was taken up and prepared for her. The voluminous folds of leather were slotted over her head, the thick canopy falling into place and adjusted to a more snug fit by the use of concealed straps. The hood hung around her head, the mesh visor concealing her eyes and allowing a dimmed and highly restricted view of the world. After pinching in slightly to meet her collar, the sheets of tanned hide rolled over her shoulders and fell in draping black folds. What appeared to be sleeves existed, but they were an illusion, for her arms were not free to make use of them. Gathering slightly at her waist, the robe fell to her feet, hiding her boots. Other than its creation from leather, the garment made Mina appear almost normal, hiding every part of her bondage from view and leaving not one part of her recognisable, or even identifiable, as a woman.