Enslaved by Charybdis

by Bruce McLachlan

  As she watched the girl being relentlessly disciplined, Mina suddenly stiffened as her own belt began working against her, teasing her clitoris, rubbing it with slow, methodical precision. Her pussy seemed to dissolve and she slouched against the side of Oceanus’s chair. Thinking he had activated her belt she looked up at him, and found him still engaged in conversation. She looked to Tethys, but the woman was similarly distracted. Glancing around the hall she had no idea who was doing this to her. Then she caught a flicker of a glance from Charybdis before he turned his attention back to the struggling latex mummy.

  With her eyes fixed on the stage, Mina watched the girl all the more intently now, her legs pressed tightly together, her hands clenching as she rubbed herself against Oceanus’s legs, her tongue spilling along the fabric of his leggings as she wallowed in bliss. Charybdis was doing this deliberately, making her look upon the latex-bound form while teasing her loins as though sensually programming her for a similar fate. She tried to turn her mind to other less dangerous topics, but every time she tried she came right back to images of being locked within layer upon layer of tight smothering latex... at the very verge of her climax the belt forced her excitement to subside somewhat before it began its terrible teasing again.

  Writhing beneath the table, Mina caught sight of motion in the sea. The nymphs were peeling away from the window as Dryads sailed elegantly by in the background. Each carried tight mesh sacks filled with marble-sized pellets that dropped through the small vent in the base of the containers, sowing the small nuggets into the currents. The colour-marked mermaids cruised onward as the nymphs swept down beneath them, catching the morsels in their mouths, devouring the sustenance offered to them. The slow drop of nutrient pellets from the bags caused the fish to fight for the food, squirming and diving as they battled for their meal.

  Mina wondered for a moment how the Rays were fed, and then witnessed a spectacular display that answered her question. She saw a woman bound into a single stem, her body sealed tight inside a glittering rainbow-hued suit, long fins trailing from her encased body. Spines like those of a fighting fish ran down her back and projected from her sides as banners fluttered slowly in the watery breeze, carried and stretched behind her by her slow, almost lethargic, passage. And following her as though hypnotised came the Rays, a dozen or so women rising up from their customary depths to trail behind her. They were following her back into the complex, where no doubt their gags would be opened briefly to allow them to be fed before they returned to the sea.

  Mina watched the feeding time for a while as her sex was tickled marvellously. She wanted to go back into the sea again, to play and be played with. She did not want to be a normal nymph like the others, for even though standing out brought harsh and envious attention, she preferred to stand out and be noticed. She had misspent one existence hiding in the faceless multitudes, now it was time for her to shine and take enough pleasure in her reincarnation to make up for all that lost time. Life was short, and she had wasted enough of it already. The rest of her life would be spent wisely and selfishly on herself.

  Chapter 5

  So preoccupied was Mina with the feeding in the ocean that she failed to notice the flight of the carnal gymnasts. With merry Pan leading them away, they skipped and bounded out of the hall to a round of applause she barely heard. All she was aware of was the fish women and the burning hunger in her pussy as the belt continued to arouse her. She looked back into the room just in time to see the last few sets of wiggling bottoms vanish through the doorways as a new procession began emerging.

  Three women strode into the hall, each one identically dressed, their faces hidden by a featureless pane of reflective glass, the subtle contours of their masks hinting at a human visage carved from silver. Their long white hair cascaded down their backs as they walked confidently forward in perfect unison. They wore silver latex gowns, the tight-fitting bodices holding up their breasts and clinging to their torsos and hips before falling as a long, loose skirt hiding their feet from view. Opera gloves of the same material reached from their wrists to their shoulders, letting their fingers free, and their nails were also painted silver. The only way to tell the difference between them was their rings. Each one was silver, with a jet symbol set in it. One ring boasted a needle silhouette, another a yardstick, and the last a knife. They were the three Fates, the controllers of human destiny, who in the myths span, measure and cut the thread of life.

  The Fates preceded a group of slaves sealed within white cat suits with full masks, so that they were little more than anonymous spectres tottering on stiletto heels. A silver collar and chastity belt had been laid over the fabric of their suits from which hung silver chains connecting them to their mistresses. The servants of the Fates brought with them a wheeled stage, the table-sized platform holding a mounted upright wheel hidden beneath a partially translucent white sheet. Mina could see that the disc was marked with some manner of decoration, but no details could be determined until it was unveiled.

  The slaves moved the device into the centre of the room as another group of ghostly females emerged chained to what looked like a steel sarcophagus, the metal set with silver inlay in the form of criss-crossing intricate webs. The large, dense coffin was placed a little distance from the wheel, and at a touch to its side, the lid opened up, exposing an interior laden with strange mechanical apparatus. And more women followed the sarcophagus, each of them holding a blanket-shrouded object, some of them small, some of them much larger.

  ‘Titans and honoured guests, we, the Morai, offer you the wheel of fate,’ the three Fates stated in chorus, and an almost eerie hush fell over the hall. ‘Offer us a nymph and let the whim of destiny judge what becomes of her,’ they went on as with a perfectly synchronised movement of their right arms they indicated the wheel. The slaves pulled the blanket away then, and people gasped and chuckled reading the dozens of different fates a spin of the wheel could bring. Created from sections of coloured wood, each slice of the wheel bore a neat golden script sentencing the player to a variety of bizarre ordeals. Mina quickly read a dozen strokes of the cane; suspension; inversion and rubber bondage. But in addition to these more ambiguous results there were assigned roles such as Dryad; sea nymph and Ray. She wondered if these allotments were permanent or merely temporary changes imposed for the amusement of the crowd.

  ‘Here!’ announced a Titan, pointing to the maid currently serving him a drink. She looked up with a start, and stepped back with dread, only to have her wrists grabbed by the one who had offered her up as the first victim of the game.

  Two of the ghost women walked over to the young woman and took her gloved arms, steering her out into the middle of the room, and her body could be seen to tremble slightly as all eyes fixed on her.

  ‘Spin the wheel!’ commanded one of the Fates.

  Taking hold of it, the maid closed her eyes, said a silent prayer for luck, and pulled down on the wheel.

  Complete silence descended over the chamber as the clatter of cogs sang a gradually slowing song, the blur of colour settling until various inescapable fates were passing beneath everyone’s eyes, and the girl visibly sagged with despair as she was sentenced to stocks and clamps. As soon as the pointer remained motionless over her chosen fate, a pair of latex-bound slaves yanked a cover off one of the dozen or so objects hidden from view around the room. The set of stocks that was revealed were crafted from solid steel and set on a small, wheeled base. They were exceptionally low, set to confine a slave in a painful stoop. The two upright posts held a slat to hold the victim’s ankles, with another set directly above to secure her wrists and head.

  The maid was drawn forcibly over to the stocks, her legs shaking as she was shown to her place of punishment. One of the sisters followed behind her, and opened up the sliding slats so the prisoner could be secured inside them. The victim said nothing by way of protest, her training in obedience to the empire’s rules taking hold even in
the midst of her fear. It was clear, however, that she still had trouble accepting the discipline so casually meted out to slaves here, her enjoyment of the realm’s more sensual delights being her primary interest. Only time would tell if she would always resist the punishments or if she would eventually come to enjoy them.

  Forced down onto her knees with her back to the pillory, her ankles were placed in the grooves and the metal bar lowered and locked into place. She whimpered as she was drawn back through the stocks and her head and wrists bent forward into their grooves before also being trapped. The position would be a dreadful one to maintain, for she now had to sit on the uncomfortable metal plank running over her ankles, the semi-kneeling, semi-crouching position craning her neck forward. She pulled and tugged weakly against the metal, trying to find a way in which to gain a shred of comfort, but it was useless.

  The Morai then lifted a small panel from the main supports and removed sets of clamps from within them. The steel pincers were of the kind closed by screws, the plastic-sheathed jaws broad and flat. As one of the Fates held a pair of chain-link clamps before the slave, the maids on either side of her brushed their hands over her nipples, caressing the teats to stiffen them and present a more attractive target. The slave struggled fervently as her tender nipples began to rise, and the clamps swooped in and tightened against them with turns of the screw. She grimaced and whimpered until the Fate released them, leaving the chain dangling and connecting her assets, her nipples blanching as compression began performing its relentless series of effects.

  The last part of the victim’s fate was the opening of a panel in the wheeled base of the pillory and the removal of a cable that was snapped to the front of her chastity belt. Instantly, the device began the same machinations assaulting Mina, so that when the imprisoned maid was at the point of orgasm, revelling in her bondage and the ache in her breasts, she was punished with the discipline setting that ensured her descent before her pleasure once more began escalating.

  ‘Another volunteer?’ the Fates asked in chorus again as they gathered together by the wheel, leaving two slaves to watch over the suffering girl. The hapless contestant’s eyes were full of tears as the effects of the bondage continued escalating, her imploring stare vainly seeking pity from the women watching her chained to the site of her growing distress.

  ‘I have one!’ a woman announced, offering the girl on her knees beside her as the next source of amusement.

  The albino wraiths strode over and gathered the girl up. Her body was encased in a mesh cat suit worn over her chastity belt, the cuffs on every extremity matching her collar. As she was set free of her leash, she was visibly trembling with a mixture of excitement and dread of what might befall her.

  ‘Spin the wheel!’ the Fates commanded again.

  The girl quickly grabbed the wheel, and pulled on it with all her might. This slave was more eager for the painful depravity of this domain, and her eyes were fixed intently to each possible fate that slipped past the pointer as the spinning wheel slowed inexorably to a halt.

  ‘The web!’ the sisters declared, and the girl was immediately forced towards the sarcophagus. She was lifted and literally thrown into its spacious interior, and no sooner had she landed inside it than strips of white latex spat across the opening, the taut strips wrapping swiftly around her body. She tried to straighten up, but the random speed and application of ribbons prevented her moving at all. In mere moments she had almost vanished inside a dense web of white lines, and even the soft sounds of her dismay became inaudible as she was fully entombed, barely able to draw breath as the machine spun blindly on, running its cocooning arms across her more and more tightly, squeezing her into an ever more compact shape.

  After a few minutes the machine finally stopped spinning and the interior floor began rising, lifting the bound girl into view as she squirmed in panic. A maid promptly used a small scalpel to cut some holes in the web directly beneath the victim’s nose, and she wheezed in deep, frantic breaths. She was terribly contorted, with her arms twisted and pulled up behind her, her legs extended at odd angles, a crooked pose that would surely drive her mad with discomfort.

  A blanket was then pulled off a large platform, the surface of which was covered with three rows of telescopic poles, each with a small disc about a foot wide set on top of it, and the sides of which were armed with dense buckled straps. The maids lifted the webbed girl and placed her on top of one of the discs, then used the belts to secure her to it. They balanced her on the small table before it began rising, lifting her into the air and placing her on full display.

  Again and again the Titans allowed their slaves to be subjected to the whims of the wheel of fate. One girl was bound to a rack while the ghost slaves continually dribbled hot wax over her as she was methodically stretched, her belt offering her pain and pleasure in addition to the straits of her sentence.

  Other slaves were condemned to being bound and whipped. Others were mounted atop toys and pleasured. Others joined the web-cocooned woman, and some were sent out into the ocean.

  ‘Here,’ Oceanus said, offering Mina up as the next candidate.

  She looked up at him aghast with fear.

  ‘Make us proud, slave,’ he whispered. ‘You’ll only be there for a short time, I promise.’ He smiled down at her as she was unfastened from her leash, and lifted up by two of the latex ghosts. The white-sheathed women drew her out from beneath the table and around it, leading her over to the wheel as the attention of the hall was divided between her and the various scenes of torment already on display.

  ‘Spin the wheel!’ ordered the Fates.

  Swallowing hard, Mina grabbed the wheel and hauled it down, refusing to fear any of the possible consequences. The wheel spun around, a blur of motion before it began slowing down, the deeds that might be done to her slipping past one at a time until the needle started honing in on boot cleaner and failed to clear the border into suspension.

  No sooner had her fate been decreed than she was drawn over to a newly revealed site. The blanket had been pulled off to expose a small steel box marked with the same webs decorating most of the sisters’ sinister toys. One face of the box was a hinged door, and the other side had a hole set near the floor through which she could easily slip her head, and that was placed before a small leather padded step. On the top of this same side was a red button, and a small panel beneath it read ring for service.

  The interior of the box yawned open to swallow her and Mina kept her eyes on it, resisting the urge to look imploringly to her owners, ready to accept this fate if it would please them. A bra of dense latex was slipped on her and tightened so it compressed her breasts inside tight cups. She could feel lines of metal running in spirals around the sensitive skin of her assets, with an added cold presence against her nipples, and she realised the inside surface of the bra was wired.

  A pair of thick metal bands was then snapped onto her arms, the six-inch tubes locking her forearms together behind her and forcing her chest out, so that her breasts were pressed even more forcefully into the punishment cups. Then she was bent over and forced into the box, able to kneel within it if she bent her head forward a little, a restriction that would no doubt soon become incredibly frustrating. Thick cables emerged from the interior to lock themselves to the back of her bra and her chastity belt, ready to take control of the implements. A chain was clipped to her collar, the lead running up to the middle of the roof of the box as another chain anchored to her body. Finally, the door was closed and locked, leaving her in near total darkness. The small amount of light filtering in through the aperture was cut off as a panel was lowered over it, sealing her in oblivion. She could hear the sounds of the feast without, so she knew there were air holes in the box, the vents well hidden and forged so as to allow her air but no light.

  The metal floor was uncomfortable to kneel on, so Mina shifted herself into a squat, a position that put more strain on
her bound arms. But before she could continue trying to work out an easy way in which to inhabit this tiny cell, she let loose a yowl of duress as the bra sent tendrils of shocking discomfort through her breasts, firing pulses of pain that made her nipples throb as her belt also treated her to a few virulent spikes of woe. Then the slot in the box began to open again, letting in light as the effects of the electrical punishment subsided. Assuming this to be the method of her summoning, Mina dropped forward and thrust her head out through the hole.

  Directly before her eyes, placed on the step, was the foot of a Titan. Declining to look up, Mina began dutifully lapping at the knee-high stiletto boot, her tongue drifting across the patent leather and the tall inside zipper. Fawning upon the fabric she lapped and kissed it, curling her tongue around the heel for her own satisfaction, loitering on the dagger-like shape as she revelled in her degrading vocation.

  Finally the boot was deemed finished and moved away, and another one promptly took its place for her devotions.

  Again and again she was used like this, until her tongue ached and her breasts and sex were burning from the chafing effects of constant discipline followed by a teasing pleasure that always ended in denial. Life was reduced to licking, and a terrible aching need for relief. Her mind was boiling in her skull with the lust for an orgasm, just one climax to take the keen edge off her hunger. But the belt read her responses and stopped without fail just before she could orgasm.

  An end to her torment finally came when her head was yanked back, the aperture whirred shut, and she felt the box being moved. After an initial awkward lurch she felt herself being wheeled smoothly from the room to another location. Dropping her bound arms against one wall, she slammed her feet against the opposite wall, her belly quivering as she murmured fervent prayers for release. Her legs rippled with strain as she tensed, every muscle in her loins at attention. The warmth in her sex continued to spread, the volcanic peak of eruption simmering ever closer. Screaming aloud inside the box, Mina jerked and cavorted as the belt finally let her explode with pleasure after her long denial, and her climax was so intense it was almost unbearable. Crying out in blinding ecstasy, thrashing against the box, she finally went limp, falling into the dazed torpor of a post orgasmic haze.