Learning to Crawl

by John Argus

  Yet she could do nothing but lick and suck at the woman’s sopping sex, for the hands that possessed her were too demanding and she had little spirit left with which to defy them. But even though exhausted and suffering the unwelcome attention of the women, Gwen felt a seed of satisfaction germinating in the depths of her soul as Carol began to grind her buttocks down against the floor and groan with delight. But then she was pulled roughly aside, barely getting a glimpse at the face of the new woman before she was forced between her thighs, there to lick once again. Fingers, sometimes one or two, sometimes more, from different hands with different demands, penetrated her.

  The second woman came quickly, shuddering and desperately clawing Gwen’s hair, and then she was moved to the next. She too seized Gwen’s hair, tugging and manoeuvring her head with unnecessary aggression as she ordered the bewildered girl to please her. Gwen protested but obeyed, the sexual heat gripping her strongly, increasing with her feeling of being used.

  Then strong hands seized the dazed, exhausted girl and flung her onto her back on the warm floor. Another woman covered her, entwining their legs and avidly grinding her sex back and forth against Gwen’s, who groaned with both pleasure and discomfort as her body was manipulated into positions to please the avaricious woman and her cohorts, smothering the exhausted, sweating, supine girl as they continued to use her limp body in the sweltering room.

  Eventually they were all sated and it was over. Gwen was led, crawling, out of the sauna to a shower room, where she knelt on all fours as Carol washed her with refreshing soap and rinsed her off. She was dried in a fluffy towel and given water to drink, and then the gag was fed back into her mouth. The clips were placed on her aching nipples again and Carol, now dressed in her suit, led her to an airy entrance hall, the main glass doors on the left and a reception desk on the right. A young and stylishly dressed female sat behind the desk, raising her eyes as Carol and her weary charge appeared.

  ‘This is the main entrance, Carol,’ she said, frowning.

  ‘I know that very well,’ Carol replied, glaring at the younger female, ‘and we’ll only be a minute.’ She looked out of a window as Gwen stood quietly and obediently, too exhausted to be embarrassed at the disapproval the receptionist was directing her way. Then a door behind the reception desk opened and an older woman appeared. She looked to be in her forties, elegant and stunning, with beautifully styled short dark hair. She wore a dark and expensive business suit with a knee-length skirt, and bore an impatient and regal air as she strode towards them.

  She examined Gwen quickly but thoroughly, then gave Carol a nod. ‘All right, April is bringing the car round to the front. Put her in the trunk and do it quickly.’

  Carol bobbed her head respectfully but the woman had already turned her eyes back to Gwen. She reached out and gripped her chin between a delicate but firm thumb and forefinger, raising it and frowning, her gaze never wavering. ‘She looks tired,’ she commented. ‘Have you been using her too roughly?’ she asked Carol, her eyes never leaving Gwen’s face.

  ‘Sure,’ Carol said with evident satisfaction.

  ‘She’ll do anyway,’ the cultured woman confirmed. ‘Take her.’

  Carol led Gwen to the door and then outside as a luxury blue car smoothed up to the pavement and a female driver with lovely red hair got out. There were some people about, but not near enough to notice or concern Gwen.

  ‘Ms Brook wants her in the trunk,’ Carol informed the driver, who opened the boot of the car as Carol tugged on the leash. Alarm suddenly gripped Gwen when she realised their intention, but she was too slow and too tired to resist as the two women manhandled her into the unwelcoming space and slammed the boot shut.

  She found herself in claustrophobic darkness. A few seconds later the car moved forward, and she wonder with mounting trepidation where she was going and who the austere woman who had clearly instigated this whole abduction was. But eventually exhaustion caught up with her and she dozed a little, despite her discomfort in the dark cramped confines of the boot, and the worry of where she was being taken.

  ‘Hello, had a nice ride?’ the driver said. ‘Let’s get you out of there,’ she went on without awaiting a response, reaching for Gwen, who sat awkwardly, feeling stiff and sore, and with the driver’s help managed to climb out of the boot.

  They were in a double garage, the doors closed, there was no sign of the odious Carol, and she had absolutely no idea where they were.

  ‘Come on then,’ the driver said, taking her chain and tugging it experimentally. She giggled as they pulled on Gwen’s nipples, and then moved around the front of the car towards a single door. Gwen, of course, had no choice but to follow, and they emerged into a luxurious house. The driver led her to a sweeping staircase and they ascended, and then walked along the landing to a bedroom.

  It was a large room, with a four-poster bed complete with canopy, several large chests and wardrobes, a group of chairs gathered around a fireplace, and a large walnut desk set before the drawn curtains.

  The driver drew back the covers of the bed and made Gwen lie down. Then she unclipped the leash and removed the cruel nipple and clitoris clamps, much to Gwen’s relief. She then gently worked the gag out of Gwen’s aching mouth.

  ‘Want a drink?’ she asked.

  Gwen worked her jaw slowly, wincing a little, but nodded gratefully. The driver went into an adjoining bathroom and returned with a refreshing glass for her.

  Once Gwen had eagerly drained it the driver pulled the covers over her. ‘Have a little bit of a rest,’ she said kindly, puffing up the pillow beneath Gwen’s head.

  ‘Where am I?’ Gwen ventured to ask, but the driver merely moved away and left, quietly closing the door behind her, and Gwen was sure she heard a key turning in the lock.

  Knowing there would be no chance of getting away, Gwen resigned herself to the fact and looked around at the comfortable surroundings, then turned off the bedside lamp and settled down, slightly anxious but telling herself she had already been through the worst.

  Chapter 11

  Gwen had no idea what time it was when she woke up. The redhead who had driven the car was there, and having turned on the bedside lamp she pulled back the covers.

  ‘Come on, time to get ready,’ she said.

  ‘Ready? For what?’ Gwen asked groggily.

  ‘Art, of course,’ the redhead said simply, as though Gwen should understand what she was talking about.

  ‘Art?’

  Without another word the redhead took Gwen’s arm, guided her out of bed and led her back down the stairs to a large open room that had clearly been prepared for a gathering of some sort. There were a number of oddly shaped devices scattered around, along with a number of sculptures on small pedestals. The sculptures were of an erotic nature as, it seemed, were the strange devices.

  One in particular caught Gwen’s attention, and not only because the redhead was leading her to it. It was a tall but narrow box made of shocking pink plastic, clearly hollow, for there were several openings cut into its front and back. The back was opened and the redhead motioned Gwen closer.

  ‘Ah, there you are, April.’ The cultured lady from the club appeared as though from nowhere, now dressed in a lovely black evening gown, followed by another girl in a maid’s uniform. She looked at Gwen happily, nodding her head. ‘She should be just about perfect,’ she mused, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘For what?” Gwen asked.

  The woman smiled, and then turned her towards the box without answering. It was a little taller than Gwen, and a little wider than her hips and shoulders. The woman pushed her in until her firm breasts went through two perfectly positioned round holes cut into the front.

  There was a smaller round opening at the height of her mouth, with four plastic pins bordering it, two above and two below.

  ‘Open your mouth, girl, a
nd press your lips to the wall,’ the woman ordered, and without waiting for Gwen to obey she nudged the back of her head. Gwen had to open her mouth to avoid the pins and they entered between her teeth, keeping her mouth open. Then a strap was passed around her head and fastened in place, keeping her mouth held wide open over the hole.

  Gwen tried to twist back but her arms were quickly strapped to the sides of the box, and then her legs were pulled apart and her ankles strapped apart too. The back section was then swung closed, and she grunted as it pushed in against her, sealing her effectively inside the cramped shell. It was an extremely tight fit, and even with her breasts pushed out through the holes at the front there was barely room for her inside. And then Gwen realised that the rear section also had a hole shaped into it, and through that her bottom protruded, naked and vulnerable.

  ‘Excellent,’ she heard the woman purr with approval, and then a moment later she felt a touch on her sex, which she immediately realised was accessible through another hole cut into the front of the box, just large enough to let an inquisitive hand slip through. She then felt a finger stroke her tongue and instinctively tried to close her mouth, only to be foiled by the plastic pins. She tried to protest, but all that emerged was an incoherent warbling.

  ‘Relax, darling,’ she heard. ‘It won’t be forever, and not every girl gets to be a piece of art.’

  Soft music began to play, and after a while Gwen heard more and more voices, the babble rising around her. Hands stroked, squeezed and massaged her buttocks fairly frequently – and sometimes slapped them as well. Other hands slipped into the small hole cut before her pussy to stroke or explore her sex, and her breasts were casually caressed and kneaded.

  Fingers and other objects were pushed into her open mouth as well, and a couple of times people poured wine onto her tongue and she had little alternative but to swallow.

  She caught bits and pieces of the conversation around her, recognising it fairly quickly as the type of indulgent waffle one often encountered around overly educated, self-absorbed arty types.

  ‘…The predicament of women in our modern society, where they are objectified and identified solely with their sexual…’

  ‘…Stop the degrading portrayal of women as nothing more than a collection of body parts whose primary purpose is the sexual pleasure of men and the stimulation and titillation of ignorant…’

  ‘…Clearly calls our minds to celebrate the sexual power of female kind and at the same time insinuates how that power can be distorted…’ fingers tugged repeatedly at her nipples ‘…and caged by the desires of men and their cold, cruel lusts. Why, this exhibit could…’

  Voices drifted away and others drifted closer. Time passed slowly for Gwen, locked in her strange little world, fingers prodding, pinching, stroking, squeezing and groping her with predictable regularity. Sometimes inquisitive fingers would rub her clitoris for a fleeting, tantalising second or two, and her traitorous juices would begin to seep. Then a finger might ease into her moist pussy and withdraw with the shameful evidence of her arousal.

  After a while the touches grew more and more intermittent and the voices became fewer in number and more faint. Then, just as she was relaxing a little and least expecting it, some rascal slipped a vibrator through the hole at her pussy and began to roll it slowly up and down between her moist pussy lips, and despite her determination to defy the unfair scoundrel it took very little of this lewd attention before she was moaning helplessly through the small hole, and when a finger pushed through into her open maw she licked at it excitedly.

  Then hands began to massage her buttocks, and a moment later they were pried open and she was shocked to feel a tongue circle her little puckered opening. The sensation was shockingly intimate and she trembled in her tight confines as her body began to respond with powerful reactions.

  Two mouths began to work on her nipples, greedily enveloping one each. One was distinctly more eager than the other, biting and chewing and sucking as the other licked and stroked and massaged. Then the vibrator prodded her pussy lips apart and slid up inside her, pushing deep. A second vibrator began to roll back and forth across her clitoris as the first was slowly pumped in and out, and she mewled helplessly, wondering with trepidation how many people were watching the detached areas of her body being so lewdly stimulated.

  The voices around her were whispers now, too faint for her to make out what they were saying. It was getting hard to think straight. The tongue circling her anus was every now and then dipping teasingly into the puckered little opening, and when it probed more forcefully her shocked system sent her into an unexpected and irresistible climax.

  The sounds emerging from her open mouth were unintelligible, but she had few cares, trembling from head to toe in the anonymity of her box. Something about the isolation of the experience bored deep into her mind and she lost herself to the sensory overload, her mind turned off, rolling and spinning helplessly as the orgasm reached its peak, and then simmered, promising to return at the slightest provocation.

  She was hardly aware when it all ended. She hung there dazedly, limply, not thinking, hardly realising even when the rear panel was opened and hands unstrapped and helped her out into the room. There were a dozen or so women there, all dressed expensively and fashionably. Several applauded genteelly, while others studied her with critical eyes as the maid and the redhead positioned her languorous body in front of the box.

  They lifted her wrists and locked them together above her head on a hook set into the face of the box, leaving her there to recover as the gathered women deliberated and discussed her.

  Gwen stood still, sagging slightly from her wrists, her body exhausted and her mind overwhelmed. It took some minutes before she could bring herself to care about the situation around her, to really notice the women – all older than she – who moved around her with such grace and style in their perfectly cut gowns and dresses.

  None spoke to her or touched her now, perhaps because she was once again a person rather than merely body parts. But as she recovered she began to feel quite insignificant and uncomfortable in her nakedness. And that these women had witnessed her demeaning abuse and wanton response to it made things much worse, and she hung her head in shame, hoping hopelessly to avoid their attention.

  Of course that was not going to happen. Gwen knew that all the women there were attracted to others of their own sex; they were all lesbians, or at the very least, bi-sexual. And Gwendolyn was an extremely attractive young lady who appealed to anyone with an eye for beauty and sensuality, no matter what their particular penchant. Even fully clothed, even without the intense sexuality her previous presentation had conferred upon her, there would have been many hungry looks and thoughts directed her way. As it was, naked, her slim but shapely form presented before the box that had until so recently been her prison, it was clearly all many of the sophisticated women could do to keep from taking advantage of her there and then.

  After a few minutes Ms Brook swept into the room and stood next to Gwen. She had only to gesture slightly to gather the attention of all there, partly because of her authoritative persona and partly because few eyes had strayed far from Gwen since her emergence from the box.

  ‘This is our little work of art, Gwendolyn,’ she said.

  The women applauded and Gwen blushed even more.

  ‘She’s a lovely young thing, of course,’ Ms Brook went on whilst caressing Gwen’s back with an elegant ease of movement. ‘And I would like you all to note the difference between how she is being treated now as compared to when she was in the box. Now that she is recognisable as a person again, I’ve noticed you’re all quite reluctant to touch or even approach her, even though it’s been made clear to you that anyone may do so at any time. This is evidence of the dissimilarity of male and female views on the sexuality and privacy of the person. Unlike males we see the person behind the body parts – a
t least, when those body parts are not presented alone.’

  There was more genteel applause for these words, though Gwen thought somewhat cynically of the way the women at the club had treated her. There was no great depth of respect for the privacy of her person there!

  ‘Yet still, examine your feelings towards the sight of this lovely young creature, chained to the box, naked and vulnerable. We, as women, should feel indignation and sympathy for her plight. Yet do we? How many of you here feel only lust for her, and a desire to use her body in the tactless manner in which a man would?’

  There were a few polite coughs of embarrassment and sheepish looks at her words, but one slim lady only shook her head. ‘Come on, Sandra, look at her,’ she said. ‘Of course we feel lust for her. Who wouldn’t?’

  ‘But do you want to get to know her as a person, or do you, just as a man would, see her as a sexual object and want merely to possess her body?’ Ms Brook pressed.

  ‘I want to possess that delicious body,’ someone muttered to a light ripple of laughter.

  ‘Sexual power games aren’t uniquely male,’ the slim woman countered. ‘Bondage and sadomasochism are not preserves of the testosterone set. You have your little April there, for one.’ She pointed at the redhead, standing to one side in a very short, very tight diaphanous dress.

  ‘That is true,’ Ms Brook conceded. ‘But April has given herself to me on a loving and consensual level. Gwendolyn is completely unknown to any of you except as a human masturbatory aid. You want to ravish her, to use her, to satisfy your lusts on her without regard to her needs or even who she is. And in the case of many of you she’s young enough to be your own daughter.’

  She smiled at Gwendolyn again, and then gestured to the maid, who moved forward and unhooked Gwen’s restraints from the box, letting her arms fall.