Werner now attended to completing the union between Sharon and Susan. She first bent the standing girl further at the waist until her arms were forcing her to bend her waist at a ninety degree angle, her upper body horizontal, buttocks thrusting directly into Sharon’s helmeted face. Again, Werner used a thin chain to circle Susan’s waist and tightly connect the top of Sharon’s helmet as soon as the probes were nestled deep inside Linda’s dual ports. Once the impalement was complete, Sharon’s helmet rings were secured to Susan’s waist chain and another was connected to the ring on her chin and tightened to the chain at Susan’s front. Susan now stood on the toes of her boots, her arms bearing most of her weight. Sharon’s’ helmeted head was warmly nestled between her smooth thighs and the two monster probes were jammed deep inside her. When Sharon jerked back, trying to free her head, the probes slid a short way out, then the chains took up the slack and Susan trembled backwards, teetering on the high heels, straining her upwards stretched arms. Whatever motion there was, the probes stayed deeply in their warm, tight little niches. The two bodies oscillated only a few inches, to and fro.
Satisfied with this arrangement, Werner wedged Susan’s head between Alex’s widespread legs and slowly forced the twin probes into the tiny girl’s two holes. Alex resisted with all her suspended strength. She fought to close her legs, but the straps and chains held them wide towards the ceiling. She struggled to reach her own crotch with her bound hands, but the manacles held her arms close to the base of her helmet and her pulling on this chain simply constricted the collar around her neck.
“Enough of this foolishness,” Werner muttered to the deaf foursome as he moved the cunt probe into place, inserting the head between Alex’s pink and shaven lips, lining up the smaller probe at the same time. Then with one quick and painful thrust, he jammed the two into the lubricated holes and locked the chains around Alex’s waist and to Susan’s helmet. Alex shuddered and shook, feeling the depth of the dual violation, trying vainly to understand why this was being done to her. Werner tightened the turnbuckles, pulling the two straining bodies even closer, enhancing the contact and driving the probes even deeper.
The final move was to guide Alex’s inverted head between Linda’s raised and spread thighs. As the prongs were trust home and helmet leather mated with Linda’s lubricated crotch, the short chains were connected to helmet rings and waist and pulled tight.
Eight dildoes were now lodged firmly and unbearably tight in eight resisting and quickly lubricated channels. The foursome was complete.
The phone rang…a light flashing on the wall signaled an incoming call. Werner went to the wall, opened a panel and removed a handset. He said, “Hello,” a bit gruffly and waited while the caller talked for a few seconds.
“Yes, my dear. Yes, honey, I’ll be home for dinner. Yes. It’s all worked out just fine. Let me fill you in on the scene here. You’ll love this,” Werner said in a chatty voice. “After all of this heavy breathing and long term planning and sweaty organizing, here’s what we’ve got,” he described the girls’ predicament slowly and in detail. Apparently the narrative brought both him and the caller considerable pleasure.
“Everyone’s got their own special position. Linda is lying here on her back, the little slut! You should just see how she wiggles that tight little ass! Sharon is kneeling over Linda with Linda plugged into her from beneath,” Werner continued, hoping the caller on the other end of the line was enjoying the narrative, forming an obscene picture of the scene in her mind.
“Sharon’s been a bit of a problem, but right now she’s got her face deep in Susan’s ass and Susan is standing in front of her, bent over and plugged into Alex’s crotch from above. Little Alex hangs by her feet, facing Susan, and is plugged into Linda, who lies below her with legs splayed wide in the air. Whew, what a lot of work these four are.”
There was a long pause while Werner leaned against the wall, idly surveying his work and seeming to listen to the heavy breathing coming through the receiver of the phone. The caller was apparently confused, because the doctor suddenly became impatient and said, “Look, lovey, I’m here and you’re there, so why not just come over and see this later? I think you need first hand exposure to this thing.”
The caller was not convinced, so Werner gave it another try.
“What the hell are you doing, an oil painting? Look, here’s the simple version, then I’ve got to go: Linda into Sharon. Sharon into Susan, Susan into Alex and Alex into Linda. OK? Got it? Good. Bye.” He angrily replaced the phone in the wall and slammed the panel shut.
“Gees,” he muttered. “Some people have no imagination.”
The great thing about this web, Werner thought as he strode back to the suffering foursome, was it could be expanded as he chose when new candidates came along.
As he made small adjustments, tightening the chains that bound hoods to waists, Werner congratulated himself on the previously undiscovered benefit of the arrangement: by moving one body, he could change the entire configuration. He also was contemplating the benefits and disadvantages of adding perhaps a fifth or sixth body to the sexual symphony he was creating.
By pulling Sharon’s head back, Susan was forced to move back and bend lower from the waist. Susan thus forced Alex to a more vertical position and brought Linda’s legs back as well. Werner experimented further. He discovered that he could get the foursome to swing for several seconds by simply pushing one hanging girl in one direction. Like a pendulum, the bodies sought to correct to the original position and the group swung the other way. Of course, as this happened, the probes worked in and out of the four struggling bodies. In response, the encapsulated heads moaned, groaned and whimpered, sometimes in synch and most often without any recognition of the other three present in the foursome.
Allowing the group to swing on its own, Werner dragged the leather duffel bag over to the center of the floor and began the next scene of his original, intricate play. He was by now beyond his original scenario, but this had worked out so well that he thought additional modifications could be rewarding.
He first connected the four girls’ nipple rings to each other. For this, he used lengths of slim, chrome-plated chain, identical to that often used for canine choke collars. Each length had small spring locking hook fasteners at each end and a chrome turnbuckle in the center. The snap hooks fit into the nipple rings and locked when the spring clip was released. To unlock them, a small stainless steel key was necessary.
Linda’s firm, but small breasts, already threaded with the tie-down chain, were now chained as well to Sharon’s nipples with two short, thin chains that ran nearly vertical between Sharon’s spread knees. Alex’s larger breasts, which had lain somewhat compressed on her chest because of her suspension, were chained to Susan’s free-swinging pair. Both young women moaned as Werner fastened and then tightened the chains. Four youthful breasts and four nipples were thus stretched and the connecting chains tensioned abruptly. Susan’s tits no longer swung, but were now extended away from her chest and pointed painfully at Alex’s extended boobs, which had assumed a sort of bottle-like-shape.
Happy with the web thus far, Werner ran another set of chains from Sharon’s nipples to Alex’s, pulling the full globes horizontally outward and away from her chest and applying additional tension in a slightly different direction. Sharon groaned deeply from behind her penis probe. Alex let out a tiny muffled whimper as she gulped air through her nostrils which were pressed tightly against Linda’s crotch. Snorting puffs of warm, steamy air, she fought the constant pressure of Linda’s dark crotch that surrounded her helmet-encased and sweating face.
Next, a longer set of chains was run down from Susan’s nipple rings to Linda on the floor. Another pair ran from Sharon’s nipples to Susan and another from Linda to Alex. Viewed from the side, the connecting chain pattern looked like a box with an “X” connecting the corners. Werner added tension to each set by further tightening the small turnbuckles in each chain until he had a tight we
b of silver chains interconnecting all eight tits. This chain web effectively stopped the swinging effect he had tested earlier. Finally, he tightened up the overhead suspension, floor chains and helmet straps. He wired two 9 volt, low amperage lines to the chain web, turned on the electrical current timers to each probe, flicked out the lights and left to get ready for his dinner guests.
In the room behind him, Dr. Werner’s human web shimmered in the dark, radiating sweat and an irregular mixture of muffled whines, mews, groans and snorts. The four female bodies vibrated, four sets of slim, rounded hips rotated and thrust and four youthful asses wiggled and jiggled. Eight youthful breasts shook and swayed in tension as their peaks were pulled and stretched by the chains and rings. Four helmet-encased heads pulled and pushed against sweating crotches and thighs. Eight dildoes vibrated at irregularly timed intervals and eased up and down narrow, well lubricated channels. Eight bound arms struggled against the straps and chains, calves and thighs ached and spasmed, forty fingers with carefully crafted and various colored nails, quivered and reached for release or something, anything to grasp. Underused youthful muscles stretched and contracted while entire bodies shook and shivered with orgasms as each girl experienced the results of the enforced ritual, again and again. It would be a very long evening for the foursome.
IV – The Tram
Amsterdam, The Netherlands
It was clear to her now. She was on the wrong tram. The windows were fogged up from the temperature difference inside and out, but judging by the looks she got from people aboard, she didn’t fit in to the after work commuter crowd with her somewhat disheveled long distance traveler looks, her wheeled suitcase and giant shoulder bag. Katrine was certain she was lost.
The first tram change seemed, now, in hindsight, to have been correct because the passengers looked and acted like people going into the city. The second change had been confusing with signs in Dutch that she could not read and unclear directions on each track. It was that second change that took her further away from her original destination and more than an hour away from her point of origin at the airport.
It all came about when she stopped at the kiosk in the terminal and asked for directions. The woman in the info booth was busy doing something apparently more important than helping tourists, so she fired off the directions faster than K could memorize them and then turned away.
The situation compounded itself in Katrine’s mind because Amsterdam, like many other large cities across the globe, has a multi-level system of ground transport and much of it seemed to overlap. To the residents, it made sense. To a non-Dutch speaking foreigner, it was a confusing, complex mess. But K was cosmopolitan enough to realize that it takes time to adapt to a new city and she was already regretting her fiscal-based decision to go to her hotel by tram instead of just taking a taxi from the airport, which would have cost about ten times as much as the tram. Now she was hopelessly lost, but decided to get off at the next stop and find a map, get better directions and at least reverse course.
The station she selected was not a good choice. It was run down and grubby, but stepping down from the tram and pulling her wheeled suitcase behind her, K’s eyes immediately burned and teared from the cold night wind blowing down the tracks. She paid no attention to the people who got on or off and concentrated on finding a map she could comprehend. This station was nothing more than an overhead shelter with no protection from temperature or wind and in a few minutes K was shivering from the cold, jetlag fatigue and frustration. She stood there looking at the tram/metro/train maps, trying to recall the nearest station to the hotel, her original destination. She drew a blank. She decided to go to the other side of the station and at least take a tram back in the opposite direction. Walking down the steps to a sidewalk and then crossing the tracks, K ran directly into a man and woman companion who appeared to be going the other way. The threesome collided and K lost her grip on the suitcase handle. She bent to pick it up and the woman said something in Dutch. The man answered her and then asked, “Are you lost?”
K nodded and attempted to go around the duo, but the woman moved closer, cast quick looks around them and then hit K hard in the stomach. K folded up, but the man put his arms around her waist and pressed a damp cloth to her face. She struggled only a moment and then passed out.
When she awoke, she was lying on the cold metal floor of a van or small truck moving at high speed. Her arms and legs were tightly tied with cord and there was some kind of cloth filling her mouth with tape holding it in place. Tape also covered her eyes. She could feel rope from her wrists stretching down to her bound ankles and forcing her legs back into a strict hog tie and there was more rope around her upper arms, bringing her elbows together. There was also rope around her neck and going down her back, perhaps, she thought, to her elbows. The shock of the sudden reversal of events, coupled with lack of sleep on the ten-hour flight and the tram ride all descended on K as she lay on her stomach in the van. She cried, the tears pooling around her eyes and then breaking through the tape and running down her face with a bit of mascara and make-up. In the background, above the road noise, she heard the man and woman talking in Dutch. The woman laughed often and they seemed to be having a good time.
“Hey, dollie,” the woman’s shrill voice penetrated the other noise. “You awake, honey?”
Katrine groaned.
“Oh, good. Sehr gut. Tres bon. Muy bien,” the woman shouted. “Are you a Brit?” Her male companion laughed and said nothing. Katrine grunted.
“English swine?” the woman asked, almost snarling.
Katrine shook her head as much as the ropes permitted.
“American?”
K nodded vigorously.
“Oh, good. We have struck gold. You just stay there for a little while longer then we’ll have a party,” the woman said. “A real party.”
K tested the ropes and found no slack, no release. She knew she was now in more trouble than she ever imagined and realized as well that it was all her fault. She had done the wrong thing more than once on this trip and now she was going to pay for it. Guilt-ridden thoughts of robbery, rape, humiliation and kidnapping ran through her mind. She chewed on the cloth, slowly reducing the stretching of her tired jaws, rolled one way and then the other and finally toppled over on her side, the rope around her neck tightening and making breathing difficult. She thrashed about.
Oh, my God, she thought. I’m going to choke to death before they even realize what’s happening.
But the woman was suddenly beside her, easing the rope strain on K’s neck and babbling in Dutch to her partner, sounding frantic. “A lot of good this will do us if she’s dead before we even get there. You tied her too tightly, Hedrick. Shit, the rope around her neck goes to her elbows and is much too tight.”
“So loosen it, Pamela. Loosen it, but don’t mess with the other ropes. We’re almost there.”
“I sure as shit hope so,” Pam replied, unwrapping the neck rope and making sure K was again able to breath.
A few minutes later, the truck stopped. The driver’s side front door opened and the man left. Outside, the wind blew with even greater ferocity and K again shivered.
I have screwed up big time, she thought, her mind churning with memories of past mistakes and the price she had paid many times for her indiscretions. This is my punishment. Once again, I will be punished for my stupidity.
Pam loosened the ropes, putting a short rope hobble on K’s ankles and allowing her to sit up with her back against the van’s wall.
“You’ll be inside soon,” she said in English. “It’s warm in there. You just do as you are told and we’ll all have a good time. By Monday you might even be back at your hotel if you’re a good girl and do as we say.”
Katrine shivered and waited until the man came back and opened the sliding side door. They wrapped K’s coat around her, hiding the rope bindings, and putting a fabric hood over her head. The hood was very porous and she was able to see a bit through the mate
rial. Then they helped her step down from the truck and guided her along until they went into a very narrow building wedged between two others just like it. They passed through a set of double doors and what looked like some sort of office and then down a hallway so thin that they had to walk single file and their shoulders still rubbed the side walls. K heard people around her but Pam and Hedrick kept a firm grip on her arms, guiding her along.
“What you got there, Hedrick?” Someone passing by asked.
“Tonight’s entertainment,” Pam answered. They kept moving and then stopped while a door was unlocked and all three of them entered. The door shut behind them.
“Sit here,” Pam said, pushing K down into a hard chair with a straight back. She and the man talked for a moment and then K was made to stand again while they took off her coat. Then back down in the chair. K continued to cry intermittently, by now terrified with thoughts of some sort of cult or weird party where she’d be the human sacrifice. K knew all about religious cults.
“Ok, Miss Morgan,” the man said finally. “I read your documents in your purse. I know who you are and why you are here. Here’s the deal. This is, as you may have already figured out, the Amsterdam Torture Museum and you are going to be the guest of honor here tonight. We are not ransom kidnappers or killers and we’ll let you go eventually, if you cooperate. This place is a popular tourist stop as well as a weekend retreat for our group. We are going to party for the next forty-eight hours. As our guest, we want to see a lot of you and it will be easier if you cooperate. Failure on your part to do as you are told will result in unpleasantness. Like this…”
Bondage a la Carte Page 7