Having It All

by Jurgen von Stuka

  “Ho,” said Ellen, obviously pleased with the arrangement. “This will do nicely. Your little ass is more accessible now. Patty, you are just so cooperative I could kiss you.” Ellen leaned over and planted a big, wet kiss on the left hemisphere of Patty’s lovely ass, leaving a beautiful red lip print. Patty moaned.

  Ellen walked away once again and returned with the snap on eye cover for the hood and a square wooden paddle. Patty saw it and knew it wasn’t for ping pong.

  Ellen placed the eye pads on the hood, sealing out sight and light, then took her stance next to the tilted frame, lined up on the left buttock and swung the paddle.

  Thwack!

  “AHHHH, oooooh,” screamed Patty through the tongue gag. An instant red square, roughly the shape of the paddle, appeared on her firm, white ass.

  “Lovely,” said Ellen, lining up another shot.

  One after the other, the blows seared Patty’s exposed and quivering ass cheeks. Ellen worked one side and then moved to the other for a repeat performance until the entire surface of the backside was glowing bright red from her attacks.

  “How do you like that?” Ellen said brightly, resting her arm and lightly fingering the flaming flesh. Patty made no sounds other than a gagged squeal each time the paddle struck and a quiet whining as tears ran down her cheeks and a thin stream of whitish liquid trickled down the inside of her thigh.

  “I can see your answer,” said Ellen, touching the inside of the wet thigh with her paddle. “Well, gotta go, honey,” Ellen said, putting down the paddle and patting the glowing butt still displayed in the raised posture. Ellen started for the stairs and then stopped again.

  “Oh shit,” she said, annoyed that she had forgotten to secure the captive’s hooded head, “can’t have that.” She pulled down an overhead chain, snapped a link into the ring on top of the slave hood and pulled the hoist chain until it was tight, holding Patty’s hooded head perfectly upright with her body weight and the steel frame neatly holding the chain taunt.

  Again, Ellen surveyed her work. She moved around in front of the sweating, straining captive and ran her long fingers over the luscious, firm, globelike breasts. She pinched the light brown nipples with her fingernails and hummed a bit of a tune, watching the hooded head struggle and the fingers flutter. Somehow, she had forgotten something and it was bugging her.

  “Oh my God,” Ellen shouted suddenly. “There it is, right in front of me. I’m playing with them instead of thinking about what to do with them. Holy Shit. Frank would have laughed his head off if I’d forgotten to do the tits. Jesus, the tits, the tits. I’m losing my mind.” Ellen picked up the paddle and began slowly, rhythmically, beating Patty’s breasts, first one then the other with their steel rings occasionally banging in contact with the paddle. Considering that she had been about to leave, Ellen took her time, paddling with strong, carefully placed strokes the top, sides and bottom of each of Patty’s freely swinging tits. When they had assumed the same battered, beaten condition as the buttocks, glowing fiery red and coursing with increased blood from the prolonged smacking, Ellen backed away, surveyed the affects of her beating and discarded the paddle. She stood back, sweating and admiring her work, then again ran her hand up and down Patty’s inside thighs, which by now were flowing actively with the light colored fluids being generated by the combination of the double dildos and the floggings of butt and tits. Ellen finished up the session by tweaking each nipple with her long, sharp nails and then adding the finale, as she called it. Something special to wrap up the session, she chained Patty’s nipples to weights.

  Soon, it was all over and a panting, sweating Patty hung on the frame, her ass still in the air, the bar and its attached dildos still splitting her ass cheeks and cunt lips wide apart. Her hood was attached to the ceiling chain and from each nipple a thin shiny chain led to the horizontal bar between the spread and clamped knees. The chains went over the bar and hung down, supporting the small weights that kept them taunt. The other ends of the chains were hooked to the new nipple rings that F&E had thoughtfully reinserted for Patty while she was spread out on the kitchen table.

  From inside the hood came groans and whines of physical and emotional discomfort, signaling to Ellen that the set up for the night was now complete. Patty was, as usual, complaining, but Ellen knew that behind all of this hollering and struggling, Patty was a first class masochist and was getting massive doses of emotional and physical thrills and orgasms from each thing they did to her. It was her covert, seemingly naive style that had thrown both of the couple off initially, but the discovery of Patty’s many piercings had invalidated all of this.

  Patty was fully aware of the affects of the discipline and torment she was experiencing and it was the concerted conclusion of both Frank and Ellen that if offered her freedom, Patty would complain loudly, but find a way to refuse. Meanwhile, she suffered and enjoyed the torment of the tripod frame, twenty hard strokes on butt and breasts from the wooden paddle, the prolonged anal and frontal penetration, the gags, the hood, tongue stretching and tit torture. Patty, like the other guests at the camp, was just another member of the Cabin Club. She was having fun.

  Chapter Seven

  Nobody Said Anything About Sex

  Frank came back with a couple of things in a small duffle bag. Katy was pleased to hear him enter the room and stayed very still as he approached her.

  “I got delayed for awhile there,” Frank said. “But in the process, I picked up a few little things for you.” He dropped a canvas bag on the floor and began to remove the contents, which he dumped on the floor next to the pinioned girl. Katy immediately smelled the rubber. She chattered urgently behind the gag, trying to tell Frank that she did not enjoy latex and that she was possibly allergic to it, but of course, with the hood and gag, Frank didn’t get any of the messages.

  He powdered both of Katy’s long legs, rubbing the talc over and around the feet and joints. Then he unfastened the left leg and started the challenging process of fitting her small, pedicured toes into the foot of the shiny rubber suit. He unfastened the clamps one by one as he worked up her leg until he reached the top of her thigh, then unlocked the right leg and followed the same slow, meticulous procedure until the suit was firmly fitted to both legs and hung from just below her waist. Frank worked carefully, smoothing the sticky latex over her limbs, one at a time, then bringing the suit up around her hips and waist, humming to himself and ignoring Katy’s somewhat frantic struggles. When she resisted too much, he pinched, slapped or twisted the resisting body part until she stopped fighting him. It took nearly an hour to fully enclose Katy in the suit. When the fitting was complete, she was still bound to the wall with the same cuffs and clamps, but her entire body was enclosed in the thin, shiny latex, stretched tightly over her skin, accenting her nicely shaped ass and boobs. Her nipples stuck out, beautifully accented by the tight, shiny rubber.

  “Remind me to shine these up when I’m done,” Frank said, rubbing his hands over the nipples and breasts, squeezing them lightly and ending with a firm tweak of the nips. Katy was already sweating from her fruitless struggles and the airtight seal of the suit. The original blindfold was removed, the gag changed and a new, latex hood with a hole where the gag went into her mouth and a set of small breathing holes at her nose was fitted carefully. It was very tight and when finished, Frank had to admire the beautiful outline of Katy’s perfect head that the hood provided. A heavy and thick metal collar, lined with latex, was placed around her neck. Frank finished his work on Katy’s head by attaching a well designed rubber harness which further secured her head, forcing the gag deeper into her wide stretched mouth and pressing the eye pads inside the hood firmly against her eyes. Frank carefully tightened the straps on the harness, mating it to the hood and assuring himself that Katy could continue to breathe easily. He fed a thin hose into the hole in the front of the hood, making sure it went into and through the gag. The hose went up to the bottom of a transparent vinyl bag attached high on the wall. It
contained a clear liquid.

  Slipping another larger and circular metal collar over her head, Frank fitted it until it was snug around Katy’s forehead. A second circle of steel was placed lower on her head, in line with her mouth. Then the two bands were joined with connecting strips of metal at the sides, top and under her chin, forming a constricting, brank-like metal frame that held her head rigidly and was connected by a short chain to a ring on the wall above and behind Katy’s head.

  When he was done, Frank had constructed an effective rubber and metal enclosure for Katy’s small blond head. She had a new metal gag in her mouth that had tracks for her teeth and filled the entire oral cavity with a metallic tasting but totally sound-stopping plug. The gag was held in place by the flexible stainless steel band that was over the hood and the harness and locked behind her head. The additional band of the same material encased her head, around the forehead and also locked in back to the same structure. Another band went around her face, on her upper lip, over the outer seal of the gag and also locked behind. Another band went from under her chin up to the top of her head and mated on the sides to the other horizontal bands. A final band pressed the two eye pads in place. With this arrangement locked on, Katy could hear, but say and see nothing. It was fine with her. It was the rubber that she hated and Frank continued to ignore her physical and verbal protestations. She loved the restraint, but she was surprised when she felt Frank (she thought it was Frank) busying himself with something long and hard that was attached to the front of her waist band, angling down across her flat stomach and dangling down over her abdomen. That was when she realized that the suit had a panel in the crotch and that Frank was opening it to expose her sex. The pleasant coolness of the open air on her sex was mitigated by the realization that beyond being rigidly bound to the wall, thoroughly gagged, harnessed and encapsulated in the rubber suit, she was about to be sexually violated as well.

  What’s he doing? No one said anything about sex. Is he going to fuck me? Well, that would be fun, I guess, but not in this rubber suit. What’s that he’s doing?

  Frank had decided that Miss Katy, as cute and punishable as she was, needed a bit of hard disciplinary truth. He attached the thin steel band, similar to those around Katy’s head, to the front of her waist so that it hung vertically from just below her navel, fastened to the waist band. Then he slipped the band through a metal, medium sized, electronically controlled vibrator, added a second, slightly smaller one next to it, smeared both with lube, smeared some more lube on her sex and asshole and, without a word, pushed both plugs into the wall-bound girl’s private receptacles.

  “EEEE, oooooo, ahhhh,” shouted Katy into the metal mouth plug. Very little sound emerged, but the twin steel plugs were now submerged into her tight little asshole and cunt. The lube and her sustained level of sexual excitement had made the impalement easy and Frank was already thinking that he should have used larger ones. Nevertheless, he pulled the band up through her anal divide and secured it at the back of the waist band with a sliding metal lock, making sure it was tight enough to neatly split her lower lips and spread her buttocks slightly as well. The locking band through her crotch had an adjustment, similar to that used to tighten hose clamps. Frank selected a short Phillips screw driver from his work belt and twisted the screw head, taking up the minute amount of remaining slack in the crotch band and driving the twin probes even deeper into their liquefied caves. Astonished that this was being done to her, Katy howled again, struggling against the clamps that held her to the wall.

  “Well, Katy, you asked for it,” muttered Frank, encouraged by her resistance because, in spite of her boldness and candor, he wanted her to suffer from, or at least resist the dual impalement from the uninvited intrusions between her legs. He grinned at her, closed the rubber panel between her legs, carefully allowing the confining metal bands to slip through slots in the panel. Then he turned on the vibrators, gave one nipple a squeeze and left the room.

  Katy spent the next eight hours sweating, writhing and tugging at the clamps that held her in the stretched spread eagle position on the wall. Anyone looking into the cell would see only a shining black, rubber clad figure, stretched against the wall, shuddering and wiggling, vainly trying to find release from the constricting metal bands, the horribly tight head harness and the vicious roto rooters in her crotch. The vibrators cycled on and off and she got her orgasms…more than she expected. In fact, she hadn’t really considered being impaled simultaneously with two dicks while stretched on the wall because she and F&E hadn’t discussed sex at all.

  Well, no, she thought. That’s not totally correct. She wiggled her rubber-encased ass for the thousandth time, trying to unseat the vibrators. She talked to F&E in the car on the way to the camp about how she got off on self bondage, but this wasn’t what she expected. Being tied or chained wasn’t, as far as she was concerned, the same as being fucked by inanimate mechanical objects while stretched out and sealed in a latex suit with her head being squeezed by a harness and metal clamps. But that’s exactly what was happening to her and she struggled to grasp the totality of the game now being played. Would F&E let her go if she objected? No, she didn’t want that. This was too good a discovery. But at least they could have told her she was going to be rubberized and doubly screwed for as long as they felt like doing it to her.

  No part of her restraints budged except that one of the sliders holding her ankle moved about an inch and then locked. That was the extent of her motion and she realized that she was beginning to have a good time. She pumped her ass against the wall, pulling against the waist clamp and then relaxing, clutching her ass and anal muscles and then relaxing them, working the butt plug in and out to the extent she could with the steel bands holding both plugs in place. She alternately surged forward, driving her clit against the invading metal band that bisected her crotch. She found that by pushing her hips down into the probes and then pushing up with her toes, she could get a few inches of movement against the plugs. She worked this strenuous three way combination until she had to stop from total fatigue and multiple orgasms. Below her, the feet of the suit continued to fill with her salty sweat. She could feel the wetness pooling around her feet and slowly moving up her lower legs. What a strange feeling, she thought. If I stay here long enough I’ll fill the suit with my own body fluids. No wonder Frank put the water hose into the gag!

  The vibrators went on and then off at unexpected times and this gave her more than she bargained for. Katy had an exciting and tiring night and it was only her second one at the estate.

  Chapter Eight

  Covering The Bases

  The original weekend of Patty’s abduction and initiation had passed long ago. No one seemed to be worried about her and when they went back to the city to work, F&E saw and heard nothing about Patty from anyone. Office water cooler lore had it that she went to Buffalo for a reunion, met some guy and was going to stay there. A few short, low key and informative notes had been sent to possibly inquiring persons and her bosses at the firm. Frank and Ellen insisted on these being written on their laptop and printed on a special printer that neither of the captors ever used, so that if the notes were ever traced, there was no connection to the kidnapping couple. Patty had to be encouraged to write, in her own handwriting, additional short notes at the end of the letters and to sign them carefully. The encouragement was pretty simple, right out of the CIA manuals on coercion of hostages, and the letters were sent and received without incident. Since Patty had in nearly every case provided a P.O. Box return address, relating that she was doing some traveling and visiting several cities, the box address seemed to satisfy everyone she knew. She even got some return mail, which, with Ellen’s help, she of course responded to with happy and interesting notes and the occasional postcard from Yellowstone National Park, Las Vegas, San Francisco, (a nice postcard from Alcatraz, that Frank thought was especially appropriate), and other places where the couple had associates and clients who easily mailed the materia
ls for them. They decided that as far as Patty’s disappearance was concerned, they had covered all the appropriate bases.

  Meanwhile, the couple continued their training and enjoyment of Patty as another member of The Cabin Club, as they called it. Patty had signed up for the long term, after an especially rewarding session with both Frank and Ellen in the cellar and she was now on board as the number one cranky guest. Everyone figured out that Patty’s thing was to bitch and be treated as a bitch and enjoy it.

  F&E resumed their normal practice of more or less abandoning their charges in the house for four and five days at a time while they went back to the city for business and other activities, leaving only Max and Ted and usually one free guest to feed and perform maintenance. They were not worried about anyone finding the women (and men) stored in the sub-basements because of the isolation of the site and the obscurity of the holding areas below, inside the mountain and under the house. Still, there was always the chance of a wandering cross country skier, snowmobiler, hunter or poacher stumbling onto the property or trying to break into the house or outbuildings and so they had taken suitable precautions. They were not worried about escapes. They had never lost a Club member and they didn’t expect to. Their locks, cages and chains, plus the apparent adaptation of their charges, made escape seem unlikely. Electrified areas in the buildings and on the property yielded a few dead animals now and then, but so far, in the time they had been using the cabin, no one had even come near it. Max patrolled the grounds regularly, but on no fixed schedule. Sometimes he went alone and at other times, he’d take one of the members along as a partner or as a pet, depending on whom it was and how he felt at the time.