Guinea Pigs

by Peter Marriner

  But now, as she knelt upon her floor-level bed in her rock walled cell, Vanessa was no longer so sure. Naked, except for the same chastity belt she had seen the other women wearing, she sat with clenched fists gripped between tight clamped thighs. She slowly writhed and shook as unwelcome and inextinguishable desire for sexual relief grew all the more engrossing by the hour. She knew now precisely what the chastity belt was for! She plucked at it dispiritedly. It had been fitted immediately after her injection and its effect was to prevent her from relieving her drug-stimulated desire on her own. Placed at the strategic position between her legs was a hemi-spherical metal grille, the jagged edged perforations of which were designedly too small to admit anything more substantial than a straw. The belt didn’t hamper her movements, but since the drug had begun to work upon her, its presence had kept her under increasing tension. Unable to relieve it, she was now realising how dependent upon her captors she would be for that purpose.

  Sweating with fear she had sprung up several times to run to the cell door and shout for help, then forced herself to sit again and remain mute. She thought constantly of the coupling in the cavern, reliving the scene. The memory of the man’s enormous penis and the brutal copulation appalled and yet excited her. At the memory of his female partner splaying her shapely figure beneath him in the throes of lust, Vanessa writhed panting on the bed.

  At last she could stand it no longer. She leapt up again and this time ran right to the steel grille. Wrapping herself about the cool bars, rubbing her belly and breasts furiously up and down their smooth length, she shrieked desperately for attention. Incoherent with urgency she begged to be told what she must do... Begged to be used... Offered herself in submission... The noise she made almost disguised the approaching tap of high heels that customarily heralded the approach of Madame. Consulting her watch, the woman calmly unlocked the door, Vanessa shrinking back in sudden fear that over-rode for a moment, the boldness instilled by desperation.

  “Fetch her, Lim. She is ripe enough!” Madame Duong stood to one side as the old man drew Vanessa unresisting from the cell. She trembled in his grasp, unexpectedly feeling the strength of his ancient sinews with as much excitement as if he had been some muscular young Adonis.

  “She will make a good subject for training on the machine,” Madame Duong commented. “She is easily imprinted. Even her own mirror image began to excite her. The General will assist you in the training room. He is curious to see how you work.”

  Vanessa wept, trapped between fear, shame and excitement, as she was led to her unknown fate. She looked from one to the other, old man and white-coated woman, the idea that she was a sexual object to be used by them was weakening her knees and raising disturbing wild desires.

  The training room was not far away, a rock-cut chamber as unlike a laboratory as anything could be. Dimly lit, its walls were decorated with erotica, Eastern and Western alike. Blown-up shots of Hindu and Khmer temple sculpture, Japanese erotic prints and Western photo studies, all concentrated on the male instrument, cocks lurid and erect, prodding into lips, vaginas and bum-holes. Below were ranged statues and lingams, repeating the same theme. Wherever Vanessa’s panicky gaze came to rest, she saw poking masculinity in obscene concentration, grotesque and elongated, swollen and overhung... She shut her eyes with a wild cry.

  “Your training room is having its effect already, Lim!” She recognised the General’s voice even as his strong hands seized her. Its deep tones seemed to ooze sex and she shivered in his grip like a trapped doe. The aged expert tittered knowingly.

  “Madame’s science and my art are a potent mixture, Sir! First we start her with the male. Onto the trainer with her.” Beside them was an oblong frame of tubular steel, like that of a bed without springs but with a complicated web of rubber straps in their place. Cables leading to electric motors and other more enigmatic metal shapes beneath it were connected in Vanessa’s mind only with ideas of electric shock torture, so that she began suddenly to struggle.

  “Now, Miss!” The General suppressed her easily. “Lim is preparing you for relief.”

  She was spread-eagled face down onto the gently conforming web. In her excited squirming, she brushed her hip against the General’s hard-muscled torso and felt the touch on her skin like the shock she had feared. He had been referring to the removal of her chastity belt. Lim’s quick hands sliding round her waist started a squeak that became an outright squeal as she felt the thing disengage. Quickly the two men strapped her into place. A pair of straps across her back and a broader strap over her middle held her firmly to the webbing. Her arms and legs were splayed apart and fastened at wrists, elbows and ankles to the frame. A motor whirred and the whole frame tilted her slowly to 45 degrees. A black box-like hood came down from above and was guided down, fitting closely over her head. At first it was all darkness and they left her like that for long minutes, sobbing and trembling in terror. But fright had only dulled the edges of lust. While she waited, trembling and quaking in the dark, her newly exposed sex hung throbbing for attention like a vacant space between her legs.

  “Manual at first, General.”

  Squealing, Vanessa convulsed with every muscle as the old man’s fingers tweaked just a few hairs of her pubis at their tips. Her body strained at the straps, producing unexpected pressures that only excited her more. Lim’s touch was infinitely gentle but unmistakable to her heightened senses. She quivered like a nervous animal being gentled by its handler as he stroked up and down. Fear gave place more and more to lust. Her whole being seemed to have become concentrated on that velvety touch between her legs. She would have welcomed pain as a distraction. She knew she ought to hate this but her brain was wholly confused. She kept seeing images of sexual couplings, hardly realising that they were not produced by her brain but projected by the helmet. She squealed more and more shrilly as the soft fingertips ran up and down, parted her throbbing labia, quickened her stiffening clitoris and slid tantalisingly into the deep cleft. She was being played like a musical instrument, sounds coaxed out by the fingering.

  Suddenly she was left abandoned, crying out again for relief. People were coupling all round her. After a time a man approached her, his figure like an antique god, his stern face familiar, surely someone she knew. He reached out to take her in his arms. She was pressed to him, shamelessly clutching him. His hands caressed her breasts, slidding between her legs. His cock nudged gently below her belly and she wriggled onto him with a gasp, the knobbed end round like a golf ball, warm, soft and slithery. It thrust gently into her... impaling her... thickening to fill her... lengthening... She was grinding her pelvis excitedly into his ...

  Their bellies came together as she felt the soft crush of pubic hairs. Still he found more thickness for her. Dimly she realised this could hardly be human, but it was what she wanted. Inexorably it began to surge... Up and then back driving a little deeper each time. It had shape now, round-headed, thick-shafted, soft and yet hard-cored. Warmth and wetness seeped from it to fill her up. It must be a machine. Was she making love to a machine? Groaning, she tried to force her mind to focus upon reality with an effort out of proportion to the result. She would... stay... still ...

  But the insistent brush and thrust and throb in her tender flesh carried irresistible rhythmic titillation, between soft lips and lubricious walls, across her throbbing clitoris, and into receptive depths. It slid ever deeper. It filled her up as if the channel had been measured for it... stroking... up... down... in... out.

  Vanessa floundered... closed her eyes upon the cavorting couples who encouraged her, she tried to concentrate her mind elsewhere... anywhere than on that... pulsing... thrusting... penetration... Nothing diverted it.

  Slow rhythm... In... Out... Slow... Too slow!

  Dreadfully, she wanted to urge it to speed up... Speed it right up. It quickened without her needing to cry out, as if her mind had been read. Deep... hot... vibrant,
giving her what she lusted for... not pleasure exactly but filling a need. Vanessa quivered from head to toe, mouth open, clutching at the body before her. Her breasts were being caressed and cupped, the tender nipples as hard as bullets, tweaked and teased... She moaned and panted, excitedly oblivious to anything except the tireless... inhuman... titillation.

  And then suddenly everything went dead again. Just stopped. Everything but Vanessa...

  She wailed so expressively that she distinctly heard laughter. Careless of the shame, she sobbed for her loss.

  “So! You like that eh?”

  “Yes... yes!” She panted in shameless assent. She had been so near to release.

  “You want him eh? You want him to fuck you eh?”

  “Yes ...I want that!”

  “Ask him for what you want!”

  The image of the man was there before her, snarling suddenly. Vanessa moaned, “Aaaah ...please... I want... you... to ...fuck me!” She was humiliated by the need to admit it, confused as to who or what she was addressing, or where relief lay lurking. The man sneered but nodded approval, advancing and merging with her in a flurry of sensations. This time she needed no build-up. The first thrust of the hot knob made her squeal, half in ecstasy half in shame, then it surged into her and became as all-engrossing as before. She was getting what she had been made to lust for... Being fucked by a machine!

  It went on and on... Hot and hard, as tireless as no human erection could ever have been... Vanessa gaped and strained open-mouthed, fingers and toes curling, clinging to the web like a lover, letting go a series of rising whimpers. She heard curses, abuse hurled at her, jeering insults. Some part of her deep down still reacted with humiliation... yet she was not willing to lose it. She wanted to escape and yet to surrender to it. Suddenly even that last scruple was overcome. She had to be penetrated at all costs, to be fucked faster and deeper. Without a moment’s reflection, she began to urge on the soulless machine, begging and flattering a mere thing of plastic and steel... tormenting thing... mechanical marvel... monstrous replica... Urging it on... to ecstasy... to relief!

  “A good beginning!” Lim murmured where he and the General bent over a controlling console. “From here we go on to introduce her to more extreme forms of abuse, leading her to go through with the goal of obtaining satisfaction.” Glancing at the young woman now in the throes of a noisy orgasm, Bha Duong nodded his admiration for the ingenuity of his wife’s assistant.

  As a young man, Lim had begun his career in collaboration with the invaders of his native province. He had been employed to procure for the use of a corrupt officer, kidnapped local beauties and afterwards to dispose of them. Lim did so by selling them ready broken-in and trained, to brothel keepers in distant provinces. Following in the same officer’s employment to other wars, he had been employed to inspect interned women for the same purpose, afterwards training them for disposal to the military brothels. After the war, when his patron was hanged for war crimes, he had escaped to the US and worked in an exhibition house in Panama until revolution drove him back to California, where he first met and admired Madame. He went by way of Manila to Bangkok, and was instrumental in bringing his two patrons together.

  As a guinea pig, it was to be Vanessa’s fate to be made an addicted to the ‘Hot’ drug and accustomed to obtain release from the frenzy of lust it induced, by the modes of sexual usage in which Lim would train her. Hitherto the guinea pigs’ debasement had been achieved by injections that beat down all their reservations by direct action. Vanessa was to be trained by a more subtle process, which would lead to her clamouring for the drug itself as a passport to ecstasy.

  Brightly illuminated, Madame Duong’s experimental animal maze was in use again. This time it was Vanessa who was running the maze against time.

  She had reached the human treadmill wheel. She staggered to it, entered the wheel and began walking with long quick strides, putting her both her hands in front of her and bending forward with her bottom thrust backwards. The huge sweeping hand on the clock had suddenly stopped hovering tantalisingly near the red-painted sector on the dial. Looking towards it, Vanessa trembled visibly but kept walking determinedly, shifting her grip regularly as the wheel went round.

  Thwackkk! Vanessa let out an involuntary cry of pain. As the wheel turned the bell rang and a thin cane stretched across the width of the wheel reached its maximum curvature, slipped off a peg and slashed down across the victim’s labouring cheeks. Vanessa increased her speed with a spurt, her bottom writhing. Every time the bell rang she tensed, hands tight on the rungs, squealed as the cane struck and then laboured on. Soon the bell was ringing almost constantly, the numbers lost and Vanessa groaning all the way from one stroke round to the next.

  Madame Duong was counting, though. At last she punched the button. The wheel stopped abruptly, Vanessa going onto her knees. She recovered quickly but her climbing of the stationary rungs up the inside of the now locked wheel was evidently as painful as the caning. She emerged out at the apex of the appliance and wriggled head first through the elevated door. She seemed to greet her descent of the children’s playground with relief as if sliding with breasts and belly for a cushion was more welcoming than the normal mode.

  At last she faced the lifelike model of the wild boar. She flung herself on her belly and wormed her way rapidly towards it as if approaching some dread potentate. Her bottom was well and truly striped with too many scarlet lines to count and she groaned as she squirmed, distorting their vivid regularity.

  Grovelling at last beneath the giant model, Vanessa operated the mechanism, drawing out the long artificial penis and then, at the sound of the gong, she scrambled backwards and assumed the correct position with her striped backside perched over the high end and her head and shoulders projecting over the lower ready to accept the monstrous corkscrew.

  “Very good!” Madame commented to her assistant. “She has done well. She is quite undeterred by the need to take her punishment. It has become part of her arousal.”

  The human partner that Jacqueline’s handlers had promised her was not a male one. Lim the girl-trainer was pleased with the progress of both the female guinea pigs that Madame had designated as Fl and F2.

  Vanessa, F2, was stretched out upon her bed as the ancient Oriental opened the door to her cell. She rolled over swiftly to face him, cheeks glowing hotly, her eyes fixed hungrily upon his withered figure, nostrils flaring as if she scented his ancient masculinity. Silently Lim displayed a key. Vanessa’s eyes widened avidly. Springing up, she swivelled herself before him, positioning herself with her stern towards him, her thighs splayed wide and her body curved to lift her hips as high as they would go, supporting herself on flattened palms and the tips of her toes. Head downward, her curls trailing in the dust, she waited, panting excitedly and trembling in eagerness. Her pose had placed the brass padlock of her chastity belt conveniently to the old man’s reach. Without needing to stoop, he inserted the key and unlocked her with a twist. At once, she sank back onto knees and elbows, leaving the heavy belt dangling loose in her trainer’s grasp. Guiltily she checked the first instinctive motion that sent her fingers flying towards her liberated loins and turned quickly instead, to grovel on the stone floor at his feet, wriggling her hips.

  “Master!” she gasped hoarsely. “Master! Please fuck me!” Lim eyed the curvaceous nakedness thus offered to him. He had been training F2 on the ‘Hot’ drug for long enough to make her completely pliable. Most of the credit was due to Madame’s chemistry, of course. Lim’s skill had lain in imprinting upon Vanessa’s mind the desired direction for her lust. Left unfettered and unrestrained, she would have sought sexual consummation with the first suitable object, a projecting doorknob, a broom handle, or her own fingers. Under Lim’s direction she had been trained to have preferences.

  “Master!” Vanessa had dared to raise herself to the level of the old man’s crotch, clutc
hing his withered thighs then fumbling at his trouser flies. She knew her master must be her first possible resort as a source of gratification.

  “Down!” he ordered harshly, using the short cane he carried to deliver two fierce cuts, right and left. Vanessa’s shapely bottom writhed even livelier when embellished by two red weals. Yet she subsided meekly enough, the pain just sufficient to counter her lust, making it possible to control herself.

  “On the floor there. Over on your back.” Eagerly Vanessa threw herself down on her mattress, sprawled on her back, flinging her legs apart. Then, finding that the old man sternly ignored her eager efforts to attract him within their clasp, the cock-crazy young woman resumed her vain attempts to find assuagement by grinding her butt to and fro on the mattress. Going to the cell door, Lim whistled shrilly. Vanessa twisted hopefully to look, sensing the nature of the summons. Excitedly she saw what at first she took to be a large light coloured dog, and then made out to be a woman upon all fours, naked and white-skinned, with long hair sweeping to the floor as she answered her master’s whistle like some large domestic pet.

  “Here, Jackie, here!” Lim encouraged the woman, who advanced to the foot of the mattress and crouched there, wild-eyed and cheeks flushed. Over the splay of her thighs, Vanessa recognised the newcomer as the female of the couple whose public fucking she had been made to witness the day she arrived. Now the thought of the performance made her quiver with lust and moan with disappointment, if only it had been the man.

  “Display, Jackie!” Lim cackled with amusement. The woman at the bed-foot whimpered, but thrust herself obediently into an arch, her limbs wide spread, revealing beneath her belly a great black dildo poking from the V of her white thighs. Vanessa thrilled at once to the sight, with a cry mingled of shock and lust. A cock, even a false one, was welcome. She threw her own thighs wider, squirming her hips excitedly.