Guinea Pigs

by Peter Marriner

  “I can’t... I can’t...” She wailed again. She was confused. The man nodded dismissively at last, quite satisfied.

  At the other end of the half-circle, Vanessa was crouched in similar fashion, before a different questioner. He too had satisfied himself that she was performing against her will, but looking towards Madame, he enquired if it was permitted to touch. She nodded and the attendant obligingly drove Vanessa closer. Hard male hands passed over her warm flesh, weighing her pendulant breasts from beneath, feeling the nipples still stiff and swollen. He tested the stout chastity belt and noted the sudden quiver as his hand brushed to and fro between her thighs.

  “Is she is still on heat?” He used the animal term, which seemed appropriate.

  “More or less,” Madame answered, who was consulting her watch. “It is all a matter of dosage. She is on a rising level at present; it will only be a few minutes before she is desperate for another orgasm.” Satisfied, the man waved Vanessa away.

  “If it has such an effect upon these women,” he commented shrewdly. “What sort of effect would it produce in a male?”

  Madame Duong laughed. “Not recommended it is very risky. That will be demonstrated in our next display.” Satisfied that her audience had returned their attention to her, Madame clapped her hands. The attendants scurried at once to rearrange the set. One of them brought Madame a short black whip, which she exchanged for the light bamboo. Vanessa’s attendant disappeared with her charge to some place of reserve, while her colleague restored Jacqueline alone to her former place on the dais. Removing her charge’s chastity belt with a flourish, she retired similarly to the wings. Naked and unhampered, kneeling on all fours upon the dais, Jacqueline’s uneasy and restless twitching revealed exactly such a state of arousal as Madame had forecast.

  With all the flourish of a ring-mistress, Madame drew the audience’s attention from the victim to the entrance behind her and her whip gave a dramatic crack. As all eyes followed her gesture, a new participant burst forth on cue. A naked man entered scrabbling upon all fours, white skinned, as much of him as could be seen. A shaggy pelt of reddish-brown hair enveloped head and neck and be-furred his chest and belly so densely that he seemed half beast, an impression further enhanced by the leather collar and strong chain by which two female attendants held him in restraint.

  Clearly the whip was not required to make him perform. There was an audible inhalation of breath from the onlookers as he lunged forward at the sight of the naked woman on the dais under the spotlights. In doing so, he straightened his legs, lifting his body to display beneath his hairy belly a monstrous cudgel of male flesh, knotted and empurpled, that swung and prodded with such a heavy suggestion of potency as to give his approach the air of a stud stallion closing upon his mare.

  “He too has been dosed with the ‘Hot’ drug,” Madame told the audience. “You will notice that despite his drug-crazed state, he doesn’t see myself or his attendants as sex objects. If he did so, this whip wouldn’t deter him. I should have to use the tranquilliser dart. He has been carefully conditioned to aim for a limited number of targets.”

  At her signal, the two attendants slipped his leash. Roger sprang forward, bounding ape-like. He had indeed been carefully conditioned. The anxiously quivering female displaying herself nakedly before him on the low dais was the only target that entered his head. To the onlookers, the pair in the lighted circle presented a sight of the utmost eroticism. The smooth, pale skinned lusciousness of the sexually posturing female, and the hideous hairy bestiality of the over-hung eager male, over both of whom Madame Duong presided in silvery delicacy, bringing them together like two mated animals. Animal-like, Roger sprang lustfully upon Jacqueline’s lewdly uplifted rear. Silence fell upon the rest of the hall.

  The only sounds for a long while were the grunts and gasps of frenzied copulation by the exhibited couple, Jacqueline echoing Roger, but in a higher key. Sounds mounting slowly at first then faster, then noisily exploding ...

  The attendants descended briskly upon the pair almost at once and drew them apart. Roger was driven forward, his sagging, still monstrous penis showing at its tip the beaded evidence of discharge. He came to rest between the audience and the dais, head hanging and chest heaving. Behind him, Jacqueline was led slowly away into the wings, her place and position on the dais taken by an obviously eager Vanessa. During this brief rearrangement, the General enlarged upon the origins of his captives for the visitors’ benefit. He told them how Roger and Jacqueline had offended him and his choice of them as revenge.

  “As guinea-pigs they have now been under continuous heavy dosage for a long time. Madame is of the opinion that the pair may soon reach such a point of saturation that they will be unable to do without regular and multiple fucking, even in the absence of further doses. They will in fact have become permanently satyr and nymphomaniac. Perhaps we might sell them to some sex-circus when we have done with them. A unique kind of revenge, I feel, and one fitting to their offence.”

  For a while, all sat silent watching the resumption of action upon the dais, where Roger was now burying his massive sexual organ into a groaning but ecstatic Vanessa with as much lustful vigour as he had had not five minutes before when he had serviced Jacqueline in exactly the same way.

  “You notice that we haven’t told you yet which one of the female performers is the wife.” Madame pointed out. “Which is it? Can you tell from the action? I think not!”

  There was a murmur of amused appreciation of her point from the audience as they acknowledged that indeed there had been no noticeable difference in ardour between the two couplings.

  “These girls -” The fat man who had questioned Vanessa, wiped his bulging neck with a handkerchief. “Will they take any man?”

  “Anyone,” Madame Duong smiled. “That is why we normally keep them under lock and key.” She touched the small gilt key on its chain around her neck, which her low neckline left visible. “Any man with a key might have them as often as he pleased and could manage. He would find that he could easily bring them to orgasm however slow or clumsy a performer he might be and would still leave them begging for more.” She looked slyly at her male audience. “Indeed this pair of guinea-pigs with their long-term dosage could take all of you without flagging.” She noted with sardonic amusement how they reacted with evident lust at this suggestion. “They will accept anything sexual that they have been imprinted with. Even a hog, if need be.”

  The would-be buyers grunted and snorted rather like a herd of hogs themselves, grinning at one another and eyeing the shapely figures of the two female performers, Vanessa now in retreat from the dais, passing her replacement advancing towards it.

  Once again action resumed under the floodlights as Roger, quickly revived, took Jacqueline for the second time. He took Jacqueline and Vanessa by turns again and again, with only minimal pauses in between. His monster implement showed little sign of diminishing and the two women endured each successive penetration with clear evidence of ecstasy, their orgasms clearly visible to the row of watchers where conversation now rumbled, along with the clinking of glasses, in the darkness. Presently there was even a minor dispute among them as to the exact number of ejaculations that Roger had achieved.

  Five into each female; Madame had it tallied when appealed to.

  The pauses for Roger to recover had now lengthened. Towards the end of one such pause, Madame approached the heavy jowled brute who had been Jacqueline’s questioner.

  “I believe that you were a diplomat in the capital at one time?”

  “Yes indeed, Madame! For some years before the present chaos, it provided an excellent cover for my real business. Those were days of wealth and comfort. Things have changed.”

  “For some more than others since that time,” Madame said with meaning. “Perhaps you recall a couple on the staff of the American Regional Co-ordination Centre when it was th
ere. You may have come across them at cocktail parties and the like. He an American ex-college professor called Roger Raven. His wife the English Rose type, Jacqueline was her name.”

  Comprehension sprang to his fat face and his jowls shook with the delight of appreciation.

  “You mean that she is that Jacqueline? Ahhh... I don’t remember him... but her!” He squinted into the lighted circle with added avidity. “She had fair hair... shorter of course... yes... Yes!” He nodded in confirmation of his recognition to his immediate neighbours. “An old acquaintance then.” He sniggered cruelly. “I would introduce myself but I see the lady is somewhat preoccupied at the moment.”

  And indeed at that point, Jacqueline who was currently occupying the dais was quite oblivious to them all. Splayed wide, thrusting back her naked rear, her eyes were glazed, her mouth agape from which frantic whining sounds emerged as her husband’s drug-enhanced cock reamed her steadily towards yet another orgasm.

  But by now Roger was visibly wilting when he withdrew. Before the next session Madame Duong intervened and he was mounted upon the dais himself, kept kneeling there while his attendant stimulated him with expert feminine fingers. Meanwhile the two captive females were made to posture before him, thrusting their red and sopping sex slots under his nose until his solidity returned before the appreciative eyes of the audience.

  With an admonitory crack of the whip across his rump, Madame set him to perform once more with his great cock almost back to its former size. This time the two females retained their firmly locked belts, which apparently precluded his former mode of entry and Roger was put to buggering them instead. The pair suffered the process with squealing dismay, but their partner performed with the same stallion-like vigour, despite their protests. Madame explained the renewed lust as due to his being stimulated by the tighter orifice. And after three or four spells of such vigorous buggery, even the recipients grew so excited they displayed evidence of achieving orgasm themselves.

  Roger soon began to droop and sag again, however, and his restoration took longer between performances. This time, Madame Duong obliged both the female performers to co-operate in taking restorative measures. Making Vanessa present herself conveniently for Roger, she had Jacqueline crouch to one side, using her mouth and tongue to stiffen him sufficiently to fuck Vanessa. And so the two females, alternated turn and turn about, until even their most diligent joint efforts could no longer raise his organ to rigidity. Still mighty, but no longer stiff, a half empty meat sausage, it dangled limply down, trailing its wet head nearly to the floor, sagging as wearily as its possessor.

  His chain leash was produced once more, and he was led off-stage at a lurching crawl, belly sagging and head hanging, and the picture of exhaustion. He departed without a backward glance at his erstwhile partners, whom Madame Duong by way of demonstrating their superior stamina, had set once more to tonguing one another in the 69 position on the dais.

  There was a week or two before the dealers were to depart, to report to their backers and during this time they were given free use of the establishment. They inspected Madame Duong’s laboratories and in one of them watched Vanessa being serviced by one of the mechanical cocks, while Madame explained the choice of fixtures, the telescopic and. rotating shafts, dilating or pulsating, the hot or cold knob-ends.

  They inspected the animal cages where Roger and the boars were kept and watched as both Jacqueline and Vanessa were put through their paces in the maze, earning their fucking by submitting themselves to whatever penalties Madame Duong allotted.

  During the several nights remaining, the visitors were permitted to test for themselves the capacities and quality of performance of the two carefully primed female guinea pigs. The unfortunate pair spent each night hung up like captive birds in small cramped cages; each suspended by a chain in the centre of the hall from off which opened all the cells occupied by the visitors. They were there to be taken out and used as it pleased the guests. Nightly in a series of orgies the pair was thoroughly tested, as the key to their chastity belts passed rapidly from hand to hand.

  Since most of the men were too cautious to accept Madame’s offer of doses of the ‘Hot’ drug, Jacqueline and Vanessa were seldom permitted to over-heat, ensuring that they afforded more satisfaction to their users and keeping them eager for more service. The question of how far they would abase themselves for their temporary masters was an aspect painfully explored. The pair were used in every mode and by every sort and condition of men and not infrequently required to perform upon one another merely for the men’s amusement.

  The fat man who had known Jacqueline in her former existence was one of the last of the buyers to leave. He and the General had come to an arrangement. He had offered to buy her.

  “My master has had a divine revelation and proposes to restore the practice of temple prostitutes. She would make an excellent attraction.” He was the agent for the leader of a new religion with a devoted following amid the disruption and assisted by it had won control over a large area on the borders of India. He hoped a transit trade in the new drug would help finance his regime,

  “Why not?” Madame, referred to by her husband, was amused by the idea. “It’s rather like selling a piece of the furniture, but her service as a guinea pig is over and this way we can be sure that she will still be used as she deserves.”

  The expected Catastrophe drove the entire establishment into the depths of the caves and then out again into salt rain when the earthquakes filled the halls and passages with dust. Jacqueline’s would-be purchaser was the only one of the dealers to make the difficult return journey some months later, to collect his first consignment of the drug.

  “She seems in excellent condition,” he complimented Madame as he took over the leash of his other purchase. Jacqueline, naked as ever at his feet, came now equipped with a collar and leash like some exotic pet. His eyes roamed lustfully over her lithe figure, gleaming white skin and the full-swelling soft curves of her hips and bottom. Her breasts hung heavily from her rib cage like ripe fruit, the red nipples oozing a bead of white. Between her white thighs her plump quim, swollen like a rosy fruit splitting with moist ripeness, was bearded with a russet goatee. She knelt on all fours, head hanging so that her long blonde tresses, half concealing her face, fell in tumbling disarray to sweep the dust. She knew to whom she was being sold. He had contrived to carry out his threat to introduce himself to her, in both senses of the word. He had a moment when, having been passed from cock to cock all night, she had spent all her drug-induced lust at last; and was crouched exhausted in a puddle of spilt wine on top of a marble table.

  “She has been kept in good shape for you,” Madame agreed. “But then she has been kept well exercised, you know. On the machines, that is. Fucking absorbs all her energy, you understand. Without it she will get fat and her temperament will suffer. Keep her well fucked, with frequent orgasms and she will stay sleek and so docile that you will be able to lead her to and fro like a little lamb.”

  So Jacqueline went off with the fat man and his escort, carried upon mule-back to an uncertain fate.

  “I got you at a bargain price, Jacqueline!” her new owner boasted as soon as they cleared the valley. “Gold is worth very little these days in the formerly populated lands. It can be had for the mere disentangling from the whitening bones. When people can spare time from seeking food to return to the dead cities to loot them, it will only have decorative value.”

  As the sun returned less hot than before, but with long days free from rain, the General and Madame worked hard to reorganise the farming of the valley for sheer survival and it was some time before they could return to the production of the raw material for the drug.

  Opium as a crop is limited not by what can be planted but as what can be harvested in a day. This crucial time comes after the poppies have finished blooming and the petals have begun to fall. The farmer must check the
heads several times a day until they are ready for cutting. If he cuts too soon, the milky latex that contains the opium will spill out. If too late, it will have aged into codeine, a much less powerful drug. When he decides to cut, it must be done with speed and skill, a cut too deep will dilute the opium, too shallow and its fall content will not be collected. If the collection is delayed, the concealed juice will harden on the poppy head.

  The General originally organised a body of trained harvesters for these crucial operations, but so low had the numbers of survivors fallen that he regretted having lost even one of his captives. More men had survived than women and Vanessa was now usefully and exhaustively employed to service the men of the harvest gangs. Roger, who rapidly became merely a shaggy appendage to his monstrous cock, was kept permanently caged in the women’s quarters, as a kind of plaything.

  Later, news came that the caravan carrying Jacqueline had been ambushed by unfriendly tribesmen far into the jungle covered mountains of Assam. Her new owner was reported decapitated by a cutlass blow, his escort scattered and his cargo lost. Still longer after, news came, in the form of rumours percolating through the mountains, of a tribe who owned a female slave whom they kept in a pig pen. The pig-woman of Kok-On thus became a jungle legend.

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