Captives of Cheyner Close

by Adriana Arden

  ‘So, are we as hideous as you expected?’

  Cassie swallowed hard, fearing what was to come. ‘No, Mistress … but I still don’t want to – to make love …’ She felt her resolve draining away with her pride. By just standing there naked before her they were breaking her down. ‘Please don’t make me do this,’ she begged.

  ‘But we want to enjoy ourselves while making you suffer,’ Hilary said, sounding sweetly reasonable. ‘And to predator-dykes like us you look very tasty …’

  Cassie tugged at her bonds, trying to squeeze her thighs together.

  ‘Are her nipples perking up just a little bit?’ Rachel wondered aloud. ‘I think she’s really excited by the thought of us having her but doesn’t want to admit it.’

  ‘Well, let’s give her the same choice she and her friends have given us all these months: none at all!’

  They flopped down onto the bed on either side of Cassie and put their arms about her. She felt their breasts pressing against her, their legs crooked negligently over her outstretched limbs. The warm scent of their bodies invaded her nostrils as their hands ran freely over her body, stroking and caressing. They knew just where to touch her …

  Cassie moaned wretchedly, unable to control her responses.

  ‘Her nips are like rubber now,’ Hilary said, pinching the bulb of blood-filled flesh. ‘And she has such firm tits …’ She bent her head and sucked and nibbled on Cassie’s right teat while Rachel did the same to the left. After a minute they lifted their flushed faces and grinned at each other.

  ‘She’s a lovely little toy,’ said Rachel, and they leaned across Cassie’s bound body and kissed each other passionately.

  Then they fell hungrily upon Cassie, each grasping a handful of her hair, turning her head to one side and then the other so they could take turns to kiss her fiercely, raping her mouth with their tongues. Meanwhile their free hands were busy playing with her nether mouth, now a gaping pink gash of flesh surrounded by a matted tangle of damp curls. Both women were slipping their fingers into the mouth of her vagina while their thumbs rolled the hard bud of her clitoris between them. Cassie groaned as she felt herself yielding to their probing, their stiff fingers going deeper as her passage expanded with a primitive growing need she could not quell.

  A sudden amazing sensation of being plugged fuller than she ever had before made Cassie cry out loud. Rachel’s slim hand had slid into her vagina up to the wrist, turning and flexing inside her tight-stretched sheath while Hilary continued to torment her clitoris from without. It was frightening and amazing and gross and wonderful. Her muscles went into orgasmic spasm clenching about the fist inside her, then she slumped, half insensible, trembling and helpless in their embrace.

  For an unknown time they petted and stroked her, telling her she had been a good girl, while Rachel’s hand remained buried inside her. Part of her detested what they had made her do even as the rest perversely basked in their praise.

  When Cassie had recovered her senses, Hilary said: ‘Now it’s your turn to pleasure us. Rachel tells me you didn’t try hard enough in Narinda’s dance class and what it got you.’ she stroked a trail of pinpricks that ran across Cassie’s now sweat-sheened breasts. ‘It’s a pity to spoil such smooth golden skin, but we’ll do it if you need the encouragement. Say twenty strokes of the cane to start with.’

  ‘No, please,’ Cassie gasped, thrilling at her own grovelling response. ‘I’ll try harder, Mistress. I’ll do anything you want!’

  Hilary smiled and kissed her. ‘That’s what we want to hear. And we’ll make it as easy as we can for you. Do you like honey?’

  Cassie blinked in surprise. ‘Er, yes, Mistress.’

  ‘Good. Then maybe you’ll enjoy yourself …’

  Rachel slid her hand out of Cassie’s vagina. It came free with a sucking sensation that made Cassie squirm and shiver. Her empty passage seemed to gape obscenely wide for long moments before its natural elasticity began to close up.

  The women uncuffed her ankles only to re-fasten them to a wooden rod with eyebolts screwed into its ends which held them nearly as far apart as before. They then freed her arms from the bedhead and cuffed them behind her back. Between them they dragged Cassie round until she knelt facing the head of the bed.

  Hilary laid herself down in the position Cassie had occupied, bending and spreading her legs so that the lips of her full plump pudenda opened wide beneath its blonde pubic thatch. She took an open jar of clear honey from the bedside table, dipped in a finger and, smiling broadly at Cassie, began to work the heavy golden fluid into her cleft.

  ‘You’ll lap it all up like a good little pet until I come,’ she told Cassie. ‘Then you’ll do the same for Rachel.’

  Cassie gulped.

  ‘Your pussy’s had enough use for one night,’ Rachel said, positioning herself behind Cassie, ‘but you should be able to take this up your bum …’ She held out a shocking pink translucent double-headed dildo nearly as long as Cassie’s forearm. It glistened with oil and was made of a pliant plastic so soft that it bobbed and swayed in Rachel’s grasp almost as though it was alive. ‘This is Sid the Snake,’ Rachel explained. We’ve had a lot of fun with him. You’ll be amazed how far he can go. Now bend forward like a good girl …’

  Cassie laid her head between Hilary’s fleshy thighs, her nose almost bushing her pubic hair. She smelt honey mingling with the woman’s own arousal, she could see the swelling bud of her clitoris and the crinkled lips of the mouth of her vaginal tunnel. Cassie felt the head of the dildo forced into her anus and then slide into her rectum with amazing ease, sensuous and slippery … and in, and in … Oh God! It was filling her her rear as Rachel’s hand had filled her front passage earlier. She was being used like a glove puppet by the two women for whatever they cared to stuff up her.

  And like a puppet she could only obey the orders of her controllers.

  Rachel sighed happily as she fed the other half of Sid into her vagina until her pubic bush pressed against Cassie’s bottom cleft and they were joined by the length of phallic plastic. Then she bent forward and embraced Cassie from behind, reaching round to cup and squeeze her breasts. ‘Now, lick out that lovely honeypot …’

  Trapped between her two mistresses, Cassie meekly buried her face in the glistening cleft of flesh before her and lapped and sucked its honeydew as though she was a hummingbird feeding from a rare flower blossom. Hilary stroked her hair while Rachel began to rock gently back and forth, grinding Cassie’s face deeper into Hilary’s vulva while she enjoyed Sid’s slippery attentions.

  The horrible thing was that Cassie could feel a tingling warmth growing in her own loins. She was becoming aroused by lesbian sex. They were forcing her to enjoy her own degradation!

  The last fragile remnants of her pride and certainty were finally shattered when Rachel whispered in her ear: ‘For the rest of your life, every time you eat honey, you’re going to think of this moment and what we did to you.’

  And she knew it was true.

  Six

  IT WAS MONDAY morning.

  To Tara, and, she suspected, the other girls, it felt as though a month had passed since Friday night instead of only a weekend. They had been subjected to so many intense emotions and bizarre experiences compressed into such a short space of time that, by comparison, their normal lives seemed like a pallid memory. And there were still five days of their ordeal remaining.

  They had been brought to Number 2 early as some of the residents had to go to work. Tara wondered how they could possibly endure a typical day in some little grey office, or wherever it was they scraped a living, knowing they had six slavegirls at their mercy back home. Would any other race but the British do such a thing? It almost felt like an insult.

  But apparently necessity and routine won out over carnal desire and revenge, at least between nine and five on weekdays. Tom Fanning, Stan Jessop and Raj Khan left to catch the train up to town, while Roberta Pemberton went to work in a shop in Styenfold. Meanwhile R
achel Villiers and Hilary Beck set off for their jobs at a local nursery garden.

  This left the girls in the care of Warwick, Narinda Khan and Louisa Jessop. Jim Curry was apparently busy in his workshop and would be with them as soon as he finished his latest creation. When this last item of news was relayed to them they were all struck by stomach-churning apprehension, yet also a certain dark curiosity.

  After they had eaten breakfast, the tape bound about their hands was removed and remnants of adhesive cleaned off with white spirit. They had gone 24 hours without being able to use their fingers and these felt stiff and strange when they tried to flex them. It had been a demonstration of their helplessness and the residents’ power over them. The use of their hands could be denied to them at any time, reducing them once again to the level of helpless pets.

  After the usual exercises in the garden under Major Warwick’s supervision, their arms were once more cuffed behind them. Then they were marched back into the living room where they found a new humiliation had been prepared.

  Six kitchen or footstools of different types and sizes had been arranged in a circle in the middle of the room. On each rested a solid square of blockboard. To these were variously taped and screwed vertically the dildo that had adorned ‘Fred’ the previous day, a polished metal vibrator, a bottle brush, an oiled dishmop, a cucumber and a small empty plastic spring water bottle.

  The girls were positioned in the gaps between the stools. Lengths of light chain were clipped to their collar rings and taken forward over the shoulder of the girl ahead and clipped to her ring in turn, linking them in a closed circle with a little slack between each. Then short lengths of clothesline were threaded through the chains midway along each length. The ends of the clothesline were taped to more of the little spring clamps that had fastened the spiked bells to their teats the day before. These were now clipped to them in the same way, so that if the chains were pulled tight, their nipples would be jerked painfully upward.

  When they were arranged to their captors’ satisfaction, Louisa Jessop produced a video camera and began walking round shooting them from different angles.

  ‘This is to show Stan and the others when they come back from work,’ she explained with a smile.

  Tara felt a sense of numb resignation. The images would join the residents’ growing archive of similar material recording their degradation. She would have to live with the shameful knowledge of its existence for the rest of her life. Then she caught sight of Hazel actually smiling foolishly into the camera. Of course it might not feel that way for some, she conceded.

  Narinda had taken up position by a small side table on which rested a metronome. ‘You will move in time to the beat,’ she told them. ‘Starting from a standing position, you will squat on the first beat and rise on the second. You will repeat this three times. On the seventh beat you will all step forward to the next object and repeat the sequence. The only pause will be when you come. You will continue round until you have all done so or the batteries on the vibrator run down.’ On cue Louisa Jessop switched on the vibrator, which began to hum softly, then she resumed filming. ‘Position yourselves … and begin.’

  The arm of the metronome ticked over. Tara squatted down over the cucumber, feeling her lips part as the vegetable drove up deep into her vagina, accompanied by a soft chorus of gasps and moans as the others impaled themselves in time with her. Another tick and she rose. She skewered herself twice more on the cucumber, then moved forward in time with the rest to stand with legs splayed over the bottle brush which Sian had just vacated.

  At first there were a few yelps from girls who did not keep in step with the others and got their nipples jerked, but surprisingly soon they were all moving in time with the steady tick-tock of the metronome. They had not even needed the threat of a holly cane to start them off, Tara realised. They had simply done what they were told and now, like living automatons, they were endlessly circling round until turned off.

  Each phallic substitute produced a distinctly different sensation as Tara took it inside her. The cucumber was cool and not unpleasant, the bristles of the bottle brush made her shiver, the vibrator deeply stimulating, the oiled dishmop soft but odd and the dildo virtually an old friend. The hardest to take, at least at first, was the small plastic bottle. It had a greater girth than any of the other devices, with chunky moulded contours for grip and a nobbled surface. It had no cap, which puzzled Tara at first until she realised it was slowly filling with trickles of translucent fluid. It was milking their juices as they squatted and strained over it, their lovemouths stretching about its unnatural form.

  Yes, they were inexorably getting aroused, and an intimate spicy scent was filling the air of the closed room. Their vaginas were clinging more tightly to the dildo, vibrator and cucumber as they got slicker with their exudations. Their insides were thoroughly coated with each others’ outpourings by now, surely the most intimate of sharing. The knowledge made Tara squirm, yet her erect nipples were straining against their imprisoning clips. How could such a repetitious mechanical process be so arousing?

  At least she was not alone. Sweat was beading on the other girls’ bodies, their breathing was getting faster and the squatting thrusts they made to impale themselves more desperate.

  Daniela, who was riding the vibrator, suddenly cried out aloud and hunched over the buzzing silver spike of metal, her hips jerking and hard-tipped breasts jiggling as the spasms of orgasm overcame her, her animal motions startling by contrast with the fixed rhythm they had been obeying. The rest of them came to a painful halt as their linking chains jerked on their nipple clips. Louisa Jessop moved in closer with her camera to record Daniela’s flushed features and the trickles oozing from her pudendal lips as they sucked on the metal shaft on which she rode.

  A terrible need was gripping them all and it was hard to hold still on whatever item they were impaled on until Daniela recovered sufficiently to set off once more. They had only just completed another circuit when Gail came. As though determined not to be last this time, Cassie followed moments after. Tara surrendered to nature and spent herself over the uncomfortable contours of the plastic bottle, even as Hazel did the same on the dildo. Sian completed the set by bringing herself off on the cucumber while they were still recovering. Needless to say, her orgasmic writhings were minutely recorded by the hungry camera lens to join those of all the rest.

  They were allowed to rest in the garden before lunch, but with their gags in place. They could only stare mutely at each other and their matted pubic hair and the drying streaks of discharge that smeared their thighs and wonder what they were becoming. Hazel, Gail and Daniela looked quite relaxed in the bonds, Tara thought, as though content with what they had done. She could almost believe there were smiles hidden behind their gags.

  After lunch Gerald Spooner came round to Number 2 in his wheelchair. Two lengths of rope were tied to the chair frame just above the front wheels. The ropes had then been tied round the ends of three wooden rods, rather like the rungs of a rope ladder. There was space between each rod for two girls to kneel side by side. The rods were pushed into their mouths and held in place by strips of tape bound around the backs of their heads. By this means they were both gagged and simply but effectively harnessed to the wheelchair in three tandem pairs.

  Spooner had the long holly cane Narinda had used on them the previous day, and this he flicked across their backs and buttocks to control them. They made several circuits of the lawn, scrabbling along on their hands and knees as they drew him after them. Neck straining and drool dribbling round the rod clamped between her teeth, Tara was acutely aware of the spectacle they were giving Spooner as they shuffled along. He could look right up their backsides and see the split peaches of their sexes peek-a-booing between their rolling thighs. Well, he was an old man, she conceded. Looking was all he could do now. He couldn’t have many more thrills as good as this to come. If he enjoyed it then …

  God! Was she beginning to feel sorry for
him?

  Then Spooner swished his holly cane across her bottom and the pain put everything back into context. It didn’t matter who was doing what to her, she would simply concentrate on getting her own perverse pleasure out of being used like a sledge dog. A sledge bitch, she corrected herself.

  They were locked into their bed frames to rest earlier than usual, as they were to be alert for when the workers returned. Tara gathered they would then feature in some activity at Gerald Spooner’s house for the whole Close to enjoy before being separated for the night. As soon as they were alone Hazel, Gail and Daniela once again began talking excitedly about their experiences of the previous night, which they had been unable to share until now. Unexpectedly Cassie cut through their chatter.

  ‘Isn’t anybody wondering how I got on with Hilary and Rachel?’ she asked brightly.

  ‘How was it?’ Hazel asked tentatively.

  ‘They finger-fucked and fisted me, then I had to lick their cunts out while they took turns buggering me with an extra-long dildo,’ Cassie said lightly. ‘But I just pretended it was all a crazy sex-dream and I even came a couple of times. No problem.’

  To Tara’s ears that last remark sounded forced. But Gail seemed to take it at face value.

  ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ she said sincerely. ‘I’m sure that’s the best way to get through this.’

  ‘They used that snakey-dildo on me on Saturday night,’ Daniela admitted. ‘I was frightened at first, with it going in so far I mean, but after a bit it –’