Guinea Pigs

by Peter Marriner

  They climbed on, up another staircase onto a higher level and along another rock-cut gallery. The first square doorway allowed them a view into a vaulted chamber in the rock. Its carved walls were lined with timeworn figures looking down upon a bizarre spectacle.

  “This is Madame Duong’s animal research laboratory,” Lim murmured. “Here you will see the other guinea pigs being put to test.”

  The air in the cavern was warm and close, with a farmyard rather than a clinical scent. The nearest figure was a slim, smart Chinese woman, neat in a white coat and high heels, perched upon a tall stool clipboard in hand. Vanessa’s eyes followed the direction of the woman’s gaze to where bright disc lights were focused down upon a large cage in the middle of the bare stone floor.

  She was calmly supervising while one of the attendants bent over yet another naked, voluptuous European female positioned in the centre of the cage. Vanessa viewed this one with the wildest apprehension, seeing in this treatment a hint, perhaps, of what she herself might expect. Apart from the same sort of chastity belt as the others had worn, the woman was quite naked. The harsh straps of the belt sank deep into the generous curves of her figure and, since she was posed upon her knees with head down, Vanessa could see that it was fastened in the small of the back with a neat brass padlock. She was being manacled by the olive-uniformed woman to rings set into the floor of the cage, splayed in a grotesque attitude, kneeling head down, with her bottom thrust up and her back hollowed, breasts lolling on the floor, knees widely parted.

  Briefly, as if sensing the newcomers, the prisoner lifted her head and turned, blonde tresses falling in rippling confusion over her shoulders and back, almost facing Vanessa, who firmly in the grip of her captors, looked for some reassurance in the other’s expression.

  But Jacqueline Raven, meeting the newcomer’s eyes through the drifting curtain of her hair, could no longer answer the appeal. She was just about conscious of the shock that her demeanour and appearance must arouse in the other, but she was too helpless herself to offer comfort or commiseration. At that precise moment, dosed with the drug, she was coming into heat, feeling with quickening terror and arousal, the nimble fingers of her attendant preparing to release the restraining belt.

  She barely restrained a whimper. Her wet and throbbing vagina ached for use. Her limbs trembled in anticipation of what she had coming. Release! Explosion! Her brain weltered in confusion at the very thought of ecstatic but exhausting release. For its accomplishment she was entirely at the mercy of the experimenter; dependent upon her will for the fucking that was to be her only relief. She felt must strive to earn it. Be on her best behaviour. Waiting with desperate impatience in the posture of a female animal readied for mating, she strained every nerve to demonstrate her acquiescence, brown furry mound thrusting plumply between straining thighs, her red fleshy vulva pouting almost agape, visibly wet and glistening.

  Vanessa, as the horrified onlooker, was even then undergoing a further shock. The animal noise that had been audible as a background had now redoubled. Along the side wall of the cavern was a row of a dozen pens from which the noises arose. Each pen contained a big, ugly, bristle-backed pig. No models for the cherubic, pink, farmyard pig of Western nursery stories, these animals, but rather, lean and muscular, razor-backed, native hogs, only one remove from the ferocious forest beast and with tempers to match. With their rough bodies, flat skulls and bristling ridge hairs, the ivory tusks of the boars jutting wickedly, they looked as hideous as they sounded.

  “Those are local pigs, bred to be used as laboratory animals by Madame Duong.” Lim’s gold teeth flashed. “As the closest animals in many ways to human males and easy to obtain locally, she has found them particularly useful for calculating dosage, since each full-grown boar or sow is about the weight of a human. These beasts, as you see, are still feeling the effects.”

  Slavering and grunting almost continually, the male animals thrust long porcine snouts through the intervening bars at the woman so nakedly displayed. Their little red eyes glared hotly from the shadows, their snuffling nostrils evidently scented the essential female in the enticing figure thrust up in lewd posture, rounded and white, the red split between the legs, gleaming under the lights. The animal outbursts elicited answering audible sounds of fear from the woman in return.

  “Now for her partner,” Lim said. “He is no different to the beasts. Like them he has been given the appropriate dose and is now showing a satisfactory degree of arousal.” His black eyes gleamed. “Like them he has been prevented from giving himself relief so he is desperate for it.”

  Below them the woman attendant had gone over to the pen furthest away and from it she led out not a boar-pig but Roger Raven, crawling naked upon all fours, led by a long chain leash attached to his leather collar.

  Jacqueline’s husband was a changed creature from the man she had lost. The time that his wife had spent undergoing bench tests or running the maze, he had endured in a narrow pen among the experimental animals, being treated like one of the pig-boars with regular doses of the drug. Its outward effects had been to enhance the visible attributes of his sex. His tangled mane of beard, moustache and untrimmed hair, enveloped all but his nose and eyes, which glared out red rimmed, from beneath the shaggy mop like some exotic guard-dog. The rest of him was nearly as hirsute, back and chest, loins and limbs, all densely coated with ginger hair.

  The primary evidence of his sex was still obscured, however, for Madame had dictated that he be unable to relieve his drug-dosed lust until she considered it appropriate. So he had been fitted with the chastity device that she had designed. It jutted out now below his hairy belly, a reinforced leather cylinder with a perforated tip, which totally enclosed both penis and testicles. Its base was fastened securely to a metal strip, shaped and curved, that passed between his legs and ran up between his buttocks, with an opening for the anus, all held in place front and back by flat brass chains that connected with a thick leather waist belt, brass studded, fastened securely in the small of his back by a stout brass lock.

  In this fashion Roger was led towards the cage that contained his well-tested wife. He himself was hardly aware of his surroundings such was the effect of his unrelieved lust. The great black penis sheath swung and bounced beneath him as he crawled, giving him something of the appearance of a stallion being led to the mare. Its motion so tantalised him that he bellowed at each bounce, whilst weeping in frustration at his inability to do more.

  By the time the cage and its contents came into view, he was moving in a red haze of lust, bellowing in mindless fury, his blood hammering, his haunches jerking, so that the black cylinder bounced and swung at random, maddening him even more. Amid the red haze, a vision suddenly came into focus. Right before his eyes, he saw what he was being led towards. Ahead of him, unmistakably, was a rounded, white and temptingly reared female rump, softly cleft into two gleaming moons, thighs widely splayed as its owner strained to proffer easy access to the red raw slot between them; a wetly glistening female slot, with a dripping hole that drew his eyes like a magnet.

  The white-coated controller coolly fished out a small key from between her breasts and passed it to the attendant who bent, inserted it into the lock at the back of Roger’s belt and freed him with a quick twist of her fingers. The belt fell open and the great leather case sprang away, impelled by the involuntary thrust of his straining cock. It hit the rock floor with a loose jingle of chains and buckles, exposing a great misshapen truncheon, dark red in colour, thrusting from a great bush of wiry hair beneath his belly and sagging so low as almost to sweep the floor.

  Without its cover, he was so astoundingly masculine that Vanessa was first shocked, then horrified and at last ashamed to see this robust and so-masculine creature scrabbling like a mindless beast at the end of a leash. Seemingly so reduced to the level of an instinctive animal indeed, that one of Vanessa’s own escorts had to go to the help of
her giggling colleague to hold him in check.

  “You really want this pig?” Vanessa heard Madame Duong ask in English, tucking her nylon-sheathed legs beneath her. The trapped woman, her voice, distorted by lust, husky and breathless responded at once.

  “Please... let it... fuck me! Let me... have it... Please!”

  The attendants tittered, hanging onto the chain. Momentarily irritated by Roger’s surge of panting ardour, the one with his cache-sex casually tucked under her arm, used the dog whip upon him, laying it hard across his buttocks. As if hardly noticing it, he strained heavily forward, the shrill femininity of the supplications enticing him even though his brain was hardly able to make sense of the words.

  In the cage Jacqueline drew a sobbing breath. She was half blinded by the hair tangled about her face and shoulders, every bruise throbbed, the chafed flesh between her thighs burned at every trickle of sweat, yet she still strained at the ringbolts that restrained her, waggling her behind to attract her prospective partner.

  “Yes... yes... Please... let... it... fuck me!” she gasped with undiminished fervour. Vanessa trembled, looking to the co-ordinator of all this.

  “Shameless sow!” Madame gestured with her pencil.

  At once the pair holding the man in restraint slipped him free. Jingling chain bouncing loosely behind him, he made two great bounds upon all fours, his great red-raw erection swinging stallion-like beneath him and sprang on the crouching woman, who promptly lifted her naked rump, apparently just as eager to receive him. He mounted her like a giant white ape, with reckless haste, as if he feared lest his captors somehow still intended to cheat him of relief, as he had been tormented so often, that he wouldn’t hesitate now.

  Their captor took notes calmly.

  Neither of her victims had any attention to spare. Jacqueline was making more noise than the pigs. She wasn’t entirely clear as to what was happening, except that this beast was mad and brutal, but above all, excitingly big. Roger’s sex-starved state, added to his fear of interruption, had him ramming his great battering instrument into the receptive female body beneath him with a savage haste that rendered him more satisfying to her than the longest and most corkscrewing of boar-pigs. Yelps of feminine excitement echoing to the arched roof gradually became breathless and were soon silenced altogether. Roger’s massive cudgel had taken up all his wife’s capacity and shortened her breath, so that the pair surged in unison, tightly enfolded, snorting and grunting like two wallowing hogs.

  Appalled and uncomprehending, Vanessa witnessed their shameless fervour and heard the vocal expression of their lust. She had never before had such an experience, of watching two people copulating noisily and openly in public. As she stood, stunned and trembling, her eyes went desperately from one to another of the onlookers. Except for the old man behind her, all were female. The four attendants, short and stocky women, plump and well-fed, round faced and Mongolian in features, neatly clad in their olive-drab uniforms, stood casually watching with folded arms, half amused, half mocking. Vanessa’s bewildered glance took in, not entirely believing it, the empty leather tube of the cache-sex, the steel chain leash and the forbidding black whip carelessly held by the man’s attendant, the bundled straps of the female belt held by the other.

  A little apart from the rest, the woman with the clipboard perched coolly upon her stool, not a hair out of place, as clinical as if the two madly copulating humans before her had indeed been two guinea-pigs in a laboratory.

  Beyond them, meanwhile, the maddened boar-pigs flung themselves at the bars of their pens, enraged and frustrated. Inevitably Vanessa’s eyes were drawn back to the human pair, both fascinated and revolted by their animal frenzy.

  The man was vastly hairy, she saw, and abundantly bearded. That and his whiteness of skin where it was visible, revealed him to be as European by origin as his female partner. He, like her, was obviously a captive, but he seemed to conduct his assault with uncaring brutality and frantic haste. His eyes glared from amid the hair like those of a maniac and his white teeth showed grimacing with the effort of his lust. For her part, the woman’s face was just as wildly distorted with such an ecstatic reception of his onslaught as seemed to collude in his brutality and impelled her to lift and thrust her backside to meet him. Both made the most revolting noises. Sounds like the slavering and snarling of wild beasts echoed in the arched roof, while all round the rock walls, the neglected rows of battered bodisavattas looked down with faint enigmatic carven smiles, on the frenzy below.

  The pounding pair didn’t take long to slake one another’s passions. In fact, as Vanessa could not help but uncomfortably observe, they rather hindered than co-operated in their frantic efforts to achieve orgasm and might have had it even faster had they exercised a little restraint. Neither seemed to heed, or to be abashed by, the presence of their audience as they coupled, squealing and groaning, thumping and heaving, with an uninhibited egotism, born as it suddenly seemed to Vanessa, of desperation.

  The man achieved a climax first. With teeth bared white in his beard, he hissed and snarled as he rammed his hairy buttocks, cheek muscles clenched, hard down at his squealing partner. The woman reacted desperately, splaying herself to receive his deep thrust, back hollowed, bottom thrust up, curving herself like a bow to his piercing entry. Her hair spilled and rippled across the dais before her as she threw her head to and fro. Then as he quivered to a stop, still arched over her, she thrust madly back at him, hips screwing and jerking, until she too, shortly let herself go with a rising wail of release.

  Coolly, with a glance at her watch, the white-coated controller wrote rapidly on her pad. Vanessa closed her eyes desperately. No one moved then for what seemed like a minute or more, not even the pair still coupled on the dais.

  With a reluctant shudder, Vanessa returned to horrible reality. The woman crouching on the dais raised her head slowly; mouth agape, panting, with an expression so hopeless that it chilled the unwilling witness. Surmounting the woman and apparently still lodged within her, the man sagged unmoving, panting also, but evidently dully indifferent both to his partner and to his audience.

  It seemed that only a few minutes passed before Vanessa was being forced to play the voyeur all over again. Incredibly, they went at it once more, the man ramming with growing vigour into an orifice from which he had not even pulled free, the woman too, beginning to bob and squirm again in desperate response. Numbly, Vanessa stood there watching the same action repeated once again... and then repeated a third time ...

  The pair seemed insatiable and automatic. They seemed unwearying too; until at the fourth repeat she saw with dawning relief that their performance had become noticeably slower and more laboured. This time, the participants were visibly more drained when they came to a finish, the man slower now than his partner. The expressions on both their faces began to show some awareness of their shame. The man withdrew fully for the first time, his down-curved penis slackened to a more normal size, wet and beaded white at its rosy tip. Neither attempted to leave their post, however, both remained kneeling dumbly in position on the dais, heads hanging, like creatures spent.

  Briskly, Madame Duong, their controller, stood, gesturing right and left to the uniformed attendants, who broke from their detached poses. Two of them, one woman to each performer, stooped over the exhausted couple, chain leashes in hand. They drew the pair apart and Vanessa realised that both man and woman alike were being collared and leashed like two domestic dogs. It looked horribly like the separation of deliberately mated animals, with their satisfied owners rudely parting them. A whip crack was echoed by a bellow of pain. The woman’s voice cried wordlessly in deprivation. Then she was being drawn away, scuttling on all fours in one direction, while the man lumbered off in the other, his bare backside showing a vivid red weal and his attendant driving him mercilessly with a cracking repetition of the whip as they disappeared. It was all over in an instant and b
oth participants tidied away by separate exits, leaving an empty cage and Vanessa gaping in confusion.

  Since that time, much had become clear to Vanessa. She had been given her first injection with the ‘Hot’ drug. In a white tiled, hygienic laboratory, the women attendants held her down across a bench, pinning her limbs, keeping her helpless, while Madame Duong calm and workmanlike, prepared to give her the shot into a bare bottom cheek. Vanessa begged pitifully to be spared, appalled at the prospect of following into degradation all those other victims she had seen, but to no avail.

  “You are fortunate to have a trained technician to give you your shots,” Madame admonished her with amusement, handling the preparation of the instrument with professional care. “There are junkies all over the world, who would fight for the privilege of such care as you will get here.” She shot expertly into the plump crown of Vanessa’s quivering cheek. “You should see what some of them use. Sometimes they get blood poisoning. Most often they don’t know how effective the stuff will be. Often they have to peddle their ass’s cold, just to afford another shot. As a guinea pig for this product you’re getting top quality stuff for free and the sex-urge and the satisfaction all thrown in. Just wait, you will be begging for more of both!” She swabbed the place of entry. “You are on our finest product. It’s irresistible!”

  At first Vanessa had not credited the boast, that in this remote place, a drug had been developed that was able both to turn her into a nymphomaniac against her will and to make her an addict to its use into the bargain. She knew well enough how savage a world she had been precipitated into. But she found it difficult to adjust from the primitive, superstitious brutality of her first captors, to the sophisticated evil of drug research and manufacture. The dreadful exhibition on the dais had appalled her, but surely if these two performers had been drug addicts, were they not the sort of disturbed people whose minds might easily be unbalanced. Surely a normal mind would not be so distorted?