Captives of Cheyner Close

by Adriana Arden

  Though her blonde curls might be artificial her bright blue eyes shone and her smile was warm and genuine. Her big breasts, capped by large pink nipples, bobbed and swayed cheerfully as she moved. Her waist was still trim, her hips full and her skin clear.

  It was also evident, as she and Stan handled Daniela with a confidence no doubt born of recent practice, that they were very much in love. Stan Jessop had receding hair but his body was still trim and his erection of impressive proportions. Its prominence might have been due to his affection for his wife or a tribute to Daniela’s beauty, or both. It didn’t really matter, as Daniela was sure where it would end up.

  Though nervous, Daniela did not feel frightened of the Jessops. Yes, they wanted to have their revenge on her for being part of Tara’s gang, but they were not cruel. None of the residents she had served these last few nights had been cruel. Roberta Pemberton’s advice had been sound. She had apologised for what she had done and accepted without complaint whatever humiliation or punishment they had meted out.

  After all, it was only fair and proper. It was what she had agreed to … and it was also very exciting.

  The Jessops had washed her inside and out, and now they had her in their bedroom, still cuffed and gagged. She felt like a toy as they discussed, stroked and fondled the best features of her body. Daniela knew they were playing with her and she was happy to be part of their game.

  They decided how they wanted to use her first.

  Laying her down on her back and reversed on their bed, they put a pillow under her head, then raised and spread her legs and tied her ankles to the corners of the headboard. Stan Jessop knelt over Daniela with a holly cane in his hand, and removed her gag.

  ‘Now, girl, do you need a taste of this, or will you do as you’re told?’ he asked.

  Daniela felt strangely calm as she responded, not because she was beyond feelings of anxiety, but because she was now certain of her feelings in a way she had not been just a few days earlier. ‘You can cane me if you want, Master, if it gives you and the Mistress pleasure. But I’ll try to please you both anyway.’

  Louisa laughed, pinching the hard swollen cones of Daniela’s nipples. Daniela closed her eyes and sighed blissfully at the gentle torment.

  ‘Look how excited she is, Stan. I don’t think this one’s going to need any encouragement. She’s going to enjoy this as much as we are.’

  Louisa bent and kissed Daniela, then turned herself round so that she faced the bedhead, straddling Daniela’s torso. Daniela found herself looking up into Louisa’s thick dark pubic delta, with its long pink wet gash peeping out from its depths.

  ‘You get Louisa nice and hot and ready, like a good girl,’ Stan commanded.

  Louisa spread her knees and lowered herself over Daniela. She smelt sweet, fleshy and exciting. Her plump cleft seemed to envelop Daniela. Happily she burrowed into its wet pulsing secret intricacies, nuzzling and exploring its folds and furrows. At the same time she felt Louisa’s head lowering between her own spread thighs and her lips brushing over her open lovemouth. Their bodies merged, Louisa grinding her pubes deeper into Daniela’s face, the heat growing between them as a slick sheen of sweat.

  Stan knelt on either side of Daniela’s pillow, clasped Louisa’s hips and raised them slightly. The hard shaft of his penis passed over Daniela’s head, his balls brushing her nose. She saw his purple cockhead part Louisa’s thick wet labia. As it sank into the secret passage beyond, Daniela raised her head and kissed his ball-sack, then licked along the fast disappearing shaft. She felt Louisa’s tongue probing the simmering depths of her own vulva.

  Stan began to pump in and out of his wife with increasing vigour. Daniela ground her face into the slippery junction of flesh between her master and mistress, kissing and licking where she could, tasting Louisa’s mounting excitement as her juices dripped onto her face.

  The bed shook when Stan came, followed a moment later by Louisa, who collapsed onto Daniela. Daniela felt fireworks going off inside her own loins and gasped and shivered with delight.

  Still infused with post-orgasmic bliss, Daniela recovered to find her face pressed against Stan and Louisa’s still-coupled genitalia. Instinctively it seemed she knew what she should do. So, while her master and mistress sprawled on top of her, she dutifully licked both of them clean, lapping up sperm and female exudation alike.

  Stan and Louisa held Daniela between them as they rested, playing with her nipples and fondling her pubes. Her hands were still cuffed behind her, but that seemed almost normal by now. She had shared in something adult and exciting that had pleased all three of them.

  ‘How did a nice girl like you get mixed up with Tara’s crowd?’ Stan asked.

  ‘I suppose it was mostly to help my father, Master,’ Daniela explained. ‘When we moved to Fernleigh Rise he said I should try to make friends, especially with the Ashwells. Really he thought it might help him do business with Tara’s father. And also my mother, who’s Portuguese, wanted to fit in with the local community. She did all the right things like going to church and coffee mornings and charity events, but she wanted to be accepted by the people who counted. I thought going about with Tara would mean being polite to people I didn’t know, saying I liked music I secretly hated and perhaps going to silly parties and pretending to have a good time. Then they started talking about the Elite Club. It seemed like a bit of a joke at first. I never imagined it would come to this … and me being here right now.’

  Louisa squeezed her sympathetically. ‘It sounds like you got into this just to please your parents.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not their fault, Mistress. I wanted to do it. You see, I’ve been quite shy all my life. Passing the Elite initiation test was a way of proving I was grown up and could be brave and take risks. I’m so sorry it hurt anybody. The way Tara talked, what you felt didn’t seem to matter. I didn’t think …’ She trailed off miserably.

  Stan lifted her chin and smiled. ‘Well, you’re making up for it now. Are you ready to pay us back a bit more?’

  Daniela grinned. ‘Whatever you wish, Master …’

  Stan knelt on the bed resting on his heels with Daniela’s bottom in his lap and her ankles tied behind his back. His cock was firmly lodged inside her. Daniela lay back on the bed with Louisa straddling her head, her engorged labia lathering Daniela’s face with her juices, while she leaned forward and kissed her husband passionately.

  Daniela squirmed happily under them, straining to pleasure both cock and vagina. Now I’ve passed the only test that really matters, she thought with joy. I know who I am at last.

  Nine

  THE ROUTINE CHANGED the next morning.

  After breakfast and their exercises in the garden, they were lined up by the back door and sent into the house one by one. When it was Tara’s turn she was taken into their room, where Narinda and Louisa Jessop reinserted her ball-gag, then put plugs of cotton wool in her ears and pads of it over her eyes. These they bound in place with a length of black repair tape that went right round her head, covering both her ears and eyes.

  Mute, blind and almost deaf, Tara was led upstairs into what must have been one of the bedrooms. There she was hobbled and made to sit in a corner.

  She remained alone in her dark and silent private world for what she guessed was twenty minutes, but which could have been longer. This muting of her senses was horribly disorientating and soon her mind began to wander. What had they done with the others? Mornings were for group punishment sessions. Was she being singled out specially for some reason? And why plug her ears? What new torment had the residents planned for her?

  Somebody suddenly loosed her hobble and then lifted her to her feet, causing her to flinch violently. She hadn’t even known anybody was in the room. Whoever had charge of her was wearing gloves, so though she thought it was one of the women, she could not be sure which.

  Tara stumbled down the stairs and into the living room. She felt plastic sheeting under her bare feet. What was that for? Her
cuffs were removed and she was made to kneel down on all fours. Her hands and feet were pulled apart, brushing across what felt like flattish pieces of wood in the process, and then they were secured with straps.

  A rubber-gloved finger covered with vaseline was poked into her anus to grease it, then a short metal sleeve or collar was pushed into the ring of muscle, holding it wide open. Clips were fastened to her nipples. The clips were attached to what felt like sprung cords, dragging her nipples slightly down and back. The other ends connected to the middle of the wooden object to which her ankles were strapped. The clips were uncomfortable but the drag on the cords was not painful as long as she remained still.

  What seemed like a stiff rod was clipped to her dangling collar ring. From the way it moved the other end must have been hinged to the middle of the board to which her hands were strapped. As Tara swayed forward slightly, though not too much for fear of tugging on her nipple clips, she felt the resistance of a spring keeping the rod from bending freely.

  Then came what she had expected, in some form or another. A slim dildo was fed through the metal ring holding her anus open and a little way up her rectum, at the same time as something rather fatter entered the mouth of her vagina. Tara froze, waiting for the things to be pushed all the way into her at any moment, but they remained as they were. After a minute or two Tara tentatively began to explore the objects as best she could, tensing her muscles so as virtually to suck on them with her rectum and vagina.

  Could she have imagined using her private parts for such a task a week ago, she thought wryly?

  The dildos, if that was what they were, had a pliancy suggesting rubber, but their tips seemed to be tingling slightly. At first it had seemed a minor irritation, but gradually it began to feel more like growing heat within her most intimate and sensitive sheaths of flesh. Instinctively she leaned forward a little against the resistance of her collar rod to slide the dildos as far out of her as possible and so reduce the sensation, though this pulled harder on her nipples.

  Was this it, she wondered? How long would she have to stay like this waiting for something to happen?

  The double dildos suddenly stabbed back into her. As their shafts slithered through her wet sheaths of flesh Tara gave a gag-smothered gasp at the jolt of pain she felt. Now she understood the tingling sensation. They had electric coils wound about them, and the deeper they were inside her the more they hurt.

  By reflex her buttocks clenched, jerking her forward, only to flinch as her nipple clips pulled her back. But in that moment the dildos had at least withdrawn, leaving only their tingling tips inside her.

  However she only had time to take a single relieved breath before they jabbed into her again, harder and deeper. She lunged forward to escape the pain, tearing on her nipples and then jerking backwards to escape their own torment, to find the dildos had once again, if only briefly, withdrawn.

  After a while a relentless rhythm established itself. As long as she jerked herself forward the moment she felt the shock-dildos sliding up her it was not too bad, though her nipples were suffering by default. They were of course perversely responding by pulsing with erectile blood, which only made the pinching of the clips worse.

  Hurt as it did, she could feel her loins also responding to the relentless shafting, the pain in her nipples and the shocks. She was dripping onto the plastic mat under her … oh, that was what it was there for! Her body was doing just what she recklessly said she intended when their ordeal started; finding pleasure wherever she could despite the circumstances. Yesterday she had a choice about masturbating on the gutter tongues, but that was after the worst was over. Now she was in far greater pain and even more aroused. At what point did using pleasure to defy her captors and blunt the pain of their punishments become pleasure in the punishment itself? Was she, deep down, beginning to enjoy the whole perverse process? No, surely not. But at the very least, she was becoming a helpless puppet whose juices could be made to flow with little effort.

  Her only consolation was that the other girls need never know.

  Warwick, Narinda, Jim Curry and Louisa looked down with satisfaction at the ring of straining, bound and blindfolded girls who were unwittingly screwing and sodomising each other in turn. Cameras were ranged about them to record their disgrace.

  The girls on their hands and knees alternated with six identical devices mounted on wedge-shaped wooden bases. The wrists of the girl behind were strapped to the corners of one side of the base, while the ankles of the girl ahead where strapped to the other. The cords from the nipples of the girl in front ran back to the baseboard behind her, while the rod fastened to her collar ran down to the board in front.

  Rising from the centre of each board was a short length of timber with a pivot ring mounted on top. Through this was slotted a horizontal rod which at one end connected to the collar rod of one girl and on the other bore the electrified dildos which were partway lodged in the rectum and vagina of the girl ahead of her.

  The beauty of it was that there had been no need to do anything except switch on Tom Fanning’s transformer, which fed power to the dildos, and then wait. The slight twitchings the girls had made as the low-powered tips of the dildos began to irritate them had been transmitted through the rods to the next girl, who responded naturally by shifting forward herself, driving her dildo rod into the waiting orifices of the girl in front of her, before the painful tension of her sprung nipple cords drew her back. This response had been magnified and accelerated as it passed round the ring, causing the girls in turn to react a little more vigorously each time. Positive reinforcing feedback, Tom called it.

  Now the impulse was travelling round the ring in under four seconds. The girls had become a living machine formed of sweating bodies, straining twitching buttocks, blushing dripping pudenda and jiggling swaying nipple-tethered breasts. The plastic sheets under them were speckled with drool from their gagged mouths, drops of perspiration and growing puddles of vaginal lubrication. The smell of sweat and helpless arousal filled the air.

  The inevitable orgasms began to occur, but they hardly slowed the impulse. Gail came with a moan and a shudder, discharging her juices very prettily. But unknowingly she was being shafted from behind by Cassie, and so had to continue innocently thrusting into Tara to save her from worse shocks. Tara did not know she was screwing and buggering Hazel, who was blindly rogering Sian, who was in turn reaming out Daniela, who was pumping the dildos into Cassie’s by now well used passages, and so on.

  It was only after nearly an hour, when the girls began to tremble with sheer exhaustion, that the residents took pity and switched off the current to the dildos. Such was the strength of the thrusting reflex to which they had been subjected that it took a couple of minutes for the girls to realise the dildos were no longer shocking them. Only then did they hang their heads, let their backs sag and slowly give way to muffled gasps, sobs and snorting breaths.

  Leaving their blindfolds and ear plugs in place, the girls were freed from their straps and clips only to have their wrists cuffed behind them once more. As limp and unresisting as rag dolls, they had to be virtually carried into the garden. Leashes tied to widely spaced stakes hammered into the grass ensured they did not move far. Here their gags were briefly removed so they could greedily gulp down water, and then replaced.

  They sprawled almost motionless on the lawn, except for the rise and fall of their chests. Hazel and Gail were so exhausted that they could not find the strength to squat properly and peed down their legs.

  By lunchtime they had all recovered sufficiently to eat, if rather unsteadily, bent over on their knees as normal; though their noses had first to be pushed into their bowls so they understood what was before them. When they were done they were taken back to their room, where their bed frames had been laid out once again. Only when they were all secured in them were their blindfolds and ear plugs removed.

  Even the dim light filtering through the shuttered living room window made Tara squint, whi
le every slightest sound boomed in her ears. For some minutes after the residents departed she lay still, every muscle aching, grateful simply to lay flat and not have to move. She felt utterly drained and just wanted to luxuriate in the security of her bed-stocks, in which she was always allowed to rest easily with a straight back. She knew that the others were with her once more, but for the moment was too tired to care where they had been.

  It was Hazel who asked in a faint voice: ‘Is everybody there? What happened to you?’

  Feebly they acknowledged their presence. They all sounded as exhausted as Tara was. After they had recovered a little, Gail began to recount her adventures.

  ‘… so I was on my hands and knees with clips on my nipples and had these electric prod-things up my bottom and pussy.’

  ‘That’s what they did to me,’ Sian interjected.

  ‘Me too,’ said Hazel.

  Realisation slowly dawned.

  ‘Shit!’ Cassie said. ‘They had us screwing each other!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Gail said.

  ‘What are you being sorry for?’ Cassie demanded.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Gail admitted. ‘You seemed angry.’

  ‘Of course I’m fucking angry!’

  ‘Did you come?’ Hazel asked Gail, ignoring Cassie’s rage.

  ‘Oh yeah, though I’m sore now.’

  ‘Me too. How many times?’

  ‘Don’t you understand?’ Cassie shouted. ‘They’ve got us doing it to each other now!’

  Tara had to speak up. ‘Get real, Cassie. It just proves what we already know. They can do anything they like with us.’

  ‘But today was tougher than anything we’ve been made to do so far,’ Sian pointed out. ‘What’s next?’

  ‘Freedom!’ Tara reminded them. ‘Tomorrow’s Friday. The week’ll be up and we’re quits. Midnight tomorrow it’ll all be over and we’ll be out of here.’

  ‘If they let us go,’ Cassie said gloomily.

  ‘They will,’ Tara assured her.