Afterwards the rote of teasing, denial and punishment was repeated again and again, reducing her to little more than a creature of base instinct, every thought driven from her and leaving only a libidinous craving. Finally the door hissed open behind her as she was waiting for another bout of punishment. With her fingernails digging into her palms she rocked herself against the belt, rubbing the crotch plate against the wall in the dim hope of acquiring orgasmic relief. The sight of the two Titans branded itself into her mind in that moment, and her sexual hunger stoked her longing for them almost painfully. In the mysteriously lost moments before climax they appeared almost divinely beautiful to her, and the timing of their entrance made her feel even more worshipfully devoted to them.
They were dressed to complement each other, matching both styles and fabric. They both wore a sleeveless halter-top of glossy black vinyl stretched tightly over their torsos and refracting the dull light of the room upon its perfectly polished surface. From beneath the tops extended Lycra leggings of a deep and luscious blue disappearing into knee-high black patent leather boots. Tethys was perched atop skyscraper heels with a slight platform to ease the rise, and a fishnet scarf was draped over both their shoulders and down their arms, secured in long opera gloves on Tethys and in short wrist-length gloves on Oceanus, both sets having had all the fingers removed. Their rings were on brazen display, and their fingernails were painted to match their leggings, the same hue reflected in Tethys’s cosmetics. Finally, both masters carried a short crop, the purple woven stem armed with a leather hoop-tip and a moulded handle.
Scarcely had Mina succumbed to the pleasure of seeing them thus than the belt vindictively began its intimate discipline once more, searing her sex and making her whole body jump. Fighting her bonds, she was forced to endure her suffering - the process of once more being dragged back away from her climax. Submerged in her woe as the ordeal finally ended and she hung limp from her bonds, she suddenly found her owners beside her, running their painted nails down her skin. The belt started its monotonous droning toil again, and she was afraid they merely intended to study her distress.
‘Is our slave ready to go to dinner?’ Tethys asked.
Mina nodded as best she could, her legs crossing as she felt herself being eased back towards a denied rapture.
‘Good,’ her mistress said, and snapped a key into the padlock.
The moment it popped open the belt ceased its work, leaving Mina aroused and hot for attention, but sealed up tight and unable to do anything about it.
‘There have been some changes of plan. It turns out Pan has a new troupe he wants to show off, and the Furies have a new game to entertain us. Most of the Titans will be there, and it will be a grand opportunity to show off our new prized pet,’ Tethys declared softly, stroking Mina’s shuddering form.
The Titans applied their leashes to her and brought her up in their wake. She walked behind them, two lengths of silver chain connecting her to her owners. She was barely aware of her surroundings as she was led from the chamber, her eyes fixed on the rear view of her masters. She watched obsessively as their bodies moved inside the tight confines of the black vinyl, her mind full of fantasies of kissing and lapping at their sexes, of tasting of their lips and their flesh. The shimmer and shift of reflected light on their fine physiques was a hypnotic charm to her indoctrinated eyes. She could not resist the allure of their rippling muscles as her owners strode boldly down the corridors leading her behind them, her own body encased in steel ribbons, her mouth still full of sodden foam. She ached with every fibre of her being to have them use her, punish her, pleasure her and bind her, for to be attended by those she loved so much was pleasure enough in itself, whatever form it took.
So enamoured was she with her fantasies that Mina was not aware of how radical her devotion had become, of how deeply in love she had fallen with her owners. She adored them knowing they possessed her entirely, her feelings for them running through her mind and filling her thoughts refusing her even the mere concept of denying them anything. All she wanted was to please them, and to make them proud of her. The empty vessel she had been was filled to capacity with licentious depravity now and overflowing with longing as a result of Project Charybdis.
Chapter 3
The air of the hall was spiced with dozens of luscious scents and sounds, including the smell of succulent food and of latex, and sighs of agony and ecstasy.
Mina’s eyes were wide with amazement as she beheld the menagerie of decadent excess on display before her, and her mind reeled beneath the visual splendour.
The hall was a vast hemisphere that took up virtually half of this entire floor of the complex. The curved wall was broken up by large oval windows presenting a view of the garden outside and teeming shoals of real fish as well as latex-bound nymphs. The aquatic women were intently watching the events in the hall, their positions at the windows interrupted only by the need to return to the dome for air. With so many Titans present in the hall, the ocean depths had to be disappointingly devoid of playmates for the salacious slave girls, leaving them to impotently examine the festivities on dry land as they dreamed of being free of their latex shells.
Chandeliers provided a shimmering light from oval, pearl-shaped bulbs, ornate masterpieces sculpted from coral and woven with silver spun through their brightly coloured structure like veins of mercury. Across the floor shone black-and-white tiles forming the trident crest of Charybdis, writing the rune across the centre of the vast room. Along the curved wall ran a long unbroken length of table spread out with platters of food offering samples of every cuisine imaginable, while drink of every description flowed freely and was partaken of eagerly by the ranks of the Titans.
The nobility of this undersea realm were stationed on the outer edges of the table, their tall wooden thrones facing inward, the elaborately carved affairs fitted with soft leather cushions, each a majestic throne in its own right. The high backs rose up above the heads of their occupants, and were inlaid with an enamel and gem-encrusted depiction of the Titan’s personal crest, the design a more detailed rendering of the one adorning their rings. In the centre of the far wall were three steps leading up to a stage where a towering throne sat empty. Carved of black wood and stone, with white leather cushions, the throne was studded with pearls and bore the rune of Charybdis upon a swirling pool of sapphires and emeralds. A smaller, though no less splendid, chair was placed on its right side with the emblem of Scylla adorning it, the image of the terrible coiled beast formed from a mosaic of carved jade and emeralds, its eyes supplied by burning rubies. And on either side of this pivotal stage were two sets of double doors, the left door being the one through which Mina was led into the hall.
The hall was awash with the sound of Titans chatting amiably as slaves attended their appetites. The serving women wore chastity belts and stockings, the fine denier hose seamed down the back. Walking atop court shoes with towering heels, they wore shoulder-length opera gloves of Lycra and a collar identical to Mina’s. Other than these token adornments they were naked, their breasts on display as they carried trays of refreshments to those demanding them. The women were all young and beautiful, their eyes dutiful and eager.
The Titans were far less regular in appearance, testaments to personal taste and style. Each one had assumed the spirit of his or her ordained deity, incorporating it into their dress and demeanour. Some Titans Mina already knew, but they constituted a mere fraction of the amassed pantheon before her. She spotted Stheno, who sat with two other similarly dressed women, their braided tentacles of hair fixed with serpent clasps - the three Gorgon sisters. Medusa she had spied in the deep, seen now without her costume, but Euryale was a new sight to her. They were all tall and slender and their gazes were intense, a trait magnified by the serpentine contact lenses they each wore, the red irises surrounding a black slit of a pupil. In keeping with the powers of Medusa, what appeared to be a statue of a naked woman twist
ed into a twirling pirouette was placed behind them against the wall. But then Mina noticed tiny breathing holes in the figure’s nostrils and realised slaves gathered by the Gorgons could well find themselves artificially petrified and used as grim ornaments of stone bondage.
Poseidon was made obvious by his trident, and by the two human ponies standing behind him, their harnesses and bridles crisscrossing their bodies with a plexus of tight straps. Ringed nipples held their reigns, and their thigh-high boots ended in hooves. The pink manes of the women fell down their backs to their waists, and their eyes were blinkered so they could only see a limited portion of the feast around them.
The Arabian giant, Atlas, sat grimfaced and dour, his seven Pleiade wives standing behind him - ghosts swathed in dense layers of fabric leaving only a hesitant glint of eye visible to outsiders.
Zeus himself was a bawdy presence standing tall and proud beside his wife, Hera. The man was well into middle age, and curling locks of white hair pinned down by a gem spilled out of his golden crown. With a lightning bolt sceptre in one hand and a tankard in the other, he was regaling those about him with a bawdy tale. Hera was approximately the same age as her husband, her face serene and full of mirth as she enjoyed the feast. She had a splendid body, tempered with the allure of an older woman’s wisdom and skill. Clad in a gold latex corset and silver jewellery, she half listened to her husband and half studied the throng.
Near the father of the gods was Athena, a stern, youthful woman adorned with a contoured breastplate of polished metal, the garment almost like a steel halter vest giving her a glorious cleavage, and she wore matching steel bracers about her biceps. Her golden tresses were woven into plaits and hung over her shoulders, shimmering in the light. At her side, confined into a lowly pose, was a woman bound into the configuration of an owl. Her latex-shaped body was marked with a design of feathers, her arms folded and moulded to resemble wings, while her hooded head bore large rounded eyepieces of reflective plastic and a sculpted beak. The creature best associated with Athena nuzzled lovingly beside her, pet and companion to the nubile goddess whose hand often reached over to stroke and soothe her owl, or to feed her pieces of food.
The three Cyclops, to whom legend allocates the production of Zeus’s thunderbolts, were positioned near their lord. The three men were exceptionally tall, a trait discernible even though they were seated. Slender of body, they wore leather vests with sculpted shoulder guards embossed with an eye crafted from gems. One was made of rubies, another of sapphires and the third of emeralds. Each man wore a glass visor with a single eye set in the centre, its iris the same gem as the one in their shoulder guards.
The last deity that immediately caught Mina’s eyes was Hades. The grim lord of the underworld was swathed in a hooded leather cloak. With his eyes hidden in shadow, his gaunt jaw emerged into the light, his teeth armed with pointed prosthetics. At his side was the hound of mythology, formed from a most bizarre merging - two women gathered together into the black ragged fur costume of Cerberus. With their bodies pressed side-by-side, one of their arms and legs was strapped into the trunk of the body, leaving their other limbs free to emerge and support them, the extremities trapped within expert imitations of clawed paws. The women had clearly been held like this for a long time for they moved in perfect unison. Their heads bore the carved masks of sneering dogs, dark eyepieces hiding their gazes beneath them, their ears pricked up to points as a tail flowed from between their conjoined buttocks. Thick collars of studded leather encircled their necks, the leashes reaching up to the hand of their master and creator.
Oceanus and Tethys took in the scene, scanning it to determine who was present, and then tugged on Mina’s leashes and pulled her along behind them. Led past the maids and rows of celebrating Titans, she kept her eyes averted from them. When they arrived at a pair of vacant chairs marked with the symbols of her owners, she was drawn between them and forced down onto her knees. Settling into an erect pose, she peered over the edge of the table and continued watching the celebrations. Her leashes were threaded around the arms of each chair, keeping her locked in place as her masters had wine poured for them and began piling delectable food on their plates.
‘So, does this place do anything for you, duke?’ Tethys asked, causing Mina to look up curiously to see whom her mistress was addressing.
The neighbour to Tethys’s right was a towering man, his slender body beautifully toned by exercise. His countenance was handsome and grave, his eyes dark and foreboding and full of hidden depths. His crown bore an intricately woven plait from which jet strands fixed with beads of tungsten hung in a ragged cascade down to his waist. Rings of the same material were set in his ears and in his metal necklace. He wore vinyl trousers laced up the sides, a studded belt encircled his waist, and a glossy waistcoat hung from his broad shoulders. Bands of his favoured metal adorned his wrists, and spines of it were fixed on the straps running over his tall buckled boots. The duke held a chain-link leash attached to the throat of the woman curled up under the table at his feet. Young and exceedingly striking of visage, she had a mane of curling red hair that almost hid the gold band fitted snugly around her throat from which hung a fiery opal. Her nails were painted the same shade as her jewel, but otherwise she was naked where she lay at the feet of her owner.
‘It is Grand Duke now, Lady Tethys,’ he corrected her, his voice light but still mysteriously powerful.
‘Apologies and congratulations,’ Tethys replied.
‘But to answer your question, I am much impressed. This does Cabal considerable credit. I am tempted to downplay its splendour when I return so I will have less rivals seeking to come here.’ He chuckled, taking a draft of his drink before tossing a chicken leg beneath the table to his pet, who promptly grabbed the food and delicately devoured it. As she ate, she spotted Mina’s eyes on her and fixed her with an icy smile.
‘Heading back to the Bay?’ asked Oceanus.
‘Yes,’ the duke replied, ‘I have done what I planned in Europe and it is time to go home.’ His homesickness was obviously intense.
‘Anything you care to divulge?’ Tethys pursued the enquiry.
‘I ran some errands for Aldridge, and I also got to drop in on a close friend in England.’
‘One of the sects there?’
‘No, she is one of ours. She is in England picking up slaves to bring back for auction, although it looks as though she will be keeping the ones she has found.’
‘Why are so many Bay nobles going to England nowadays?’
‘Duke Silver found a prize filly there. Of course, she was visiting the Bay as a tourist, so he did not have to travel for her, but it set a trend and now English beauties are in demand.’
‘Oh yes, we heard about her,’ Oceanus interjected. ‘Obsidian trained her, didn’t she?’
‘Seduced, more like. Anyway, she has aroused a lot of interest, and more than pleased everyone who has had the opportunity to sample her. Though I think Duke Silver has fallen for her.’
‘You’re kidding. That fiend?’ Tethys sounded amused.
‘Yes, it is strange. I can understand it, however, for she is indeed a treat. Speaking of which, who is the new specimen you are keeping to yourselves here?’ The Grand Duke glanced down at Mina.
‘This is our latest acquisition,’ Tethys replied proudly. ‘She came in with the last batch and has been an enthralling companion for us.’
‘Tell the duke the rest,’ Oceanus’s neighbour urged. The young man was wild of visage, with short, spiked hair, the roots a striking red gradually lightening to a burning yellow. Golden rings adorned his ears and fingers, and a marvellous tattoo of a sunrise over the ocean was etched into his right shoulder. He was clad in a yellow latex vest woven with red and orange lines resembling blurred flames curling around his chest.
‘It is Grand Duke now, Helios,’ Oceanus informed him. ‘If you have to eavesdrop, at least catch all
the conversation.’
‘Protective of your new pet’s reputation, are we?’ Helios retorted amiably. ‘Anyway, I think it’s marvellous you found her in that batch. Since when has any other slave here caused so much commotion?’ He waved his golden tankard in a sweeping arc to indicate the assembly, the gesture causing some of the contents to slosh over the lip and drip on the table. A maid promptly appeared as if by magic and mopped up the spill with a cloth, her actions not even noticed by the nobles.
‘You’re just glad Stheno missed her,’ Tethys commented, leaning back in her chair and running a hand through Mina’s hair. ‘You’ve been pissed at her since she beat you for the hosting of Charybdis’s birthday bash.’
Mina looked up at her owner, and returned the smile she offered her pet. She was pleased with her position here and proud to know she had elevated herself above other slaves. She had gained the attention of the noble caste, now she could capture their respect if she excelled as a slave. Looking into Tethys’s black eyes, Mina pledged herself afresh to her sensual quest, promising to forsake all notions of morality and conduct and to drown herself in a sea of excess. This way she would gain renown and all the attention she could ever desire.
‘Point one, that’s crap,’ Helios said mildly. ‘Point two, I gave up that honour for the good of all. Stheno was simply in a better position to arrange it.’
‘If you say so, Helios,’ Tethys teased, raising her eyes to the ceiling as she took a sip of wine.
‘Damn it but you’re infuriating, Tethys,’ the sun god muttered, lounging back in his chair. A serving slave caught his eye and he grabbed his short red crop. The lithe instrument bore a leather silhouette of a sun, the orb throwing out wavy peaks in all directions of varied sizes. With a capricious flick he applied it to the maid’s bottom as she passed, making her squeak and skip forward, forcing her to concentrate on her balance as the tray she held wobbled and made the glasses on it clatter. She teetered away, a rosy imprint of the sun rising across her pert cheek as she breathed in deeply, savouring the heat of the swipe.
Enslaved by Charybdis Page 4