Captured by Charybdis

by Bruce McLachlan

  It was an event that boiled her reason, she hated it yet revelled in it - the pain of being defeated and used for another’s sadistic amusement, her straits soothed by the diligent tongue artistry of the slave girl. Mina was being treated as an object, a piece of property, and the actions being visited on her were only confirming it, stamping her mind with an indelible brand of ownership. All notion of the mission had fled; the candle had forced it out of her mind, letting her delight in the oral play with all her glee.

  ‘There, now clear that off and shave her, I shall send for some Oread,’ he stated, and marched from the chamber without another word, taking Mina by surprise at the abrupt termination of her treatment.

  From her own self-education, Mina knew that Oread were Nymphs of the mountains, linking to the other reference to such mythological beings, the one she had caught being used as a threat.

  The two women began to scratch at her body, picking off the solidified crust as though it were a layer of coloured scabs. Mina winced when the wax tugged at or hauled free a hair, the issue of the candle snatching it and refusing to let go as the residue was peeled away.

  Once her skin was freed of the droplets, the women brushed across her to remove the last particles and together they took up and brandished clippers. The electric devices were automated pluckers, the barrel atop their head armed with many small mouths, the tweezers within snapping open and closed at high speed.

  Together, the female assistants closed in, the implements whirring and growling at a fevered mechanised rate. When they brushed her legs she jolted and gritted her teeth to the gag, straining to keep quiet, the tenderised skin responding to the plucking with resentment.

  On slow steady sweeps they attended her legs, stripping the soft fine fuzz that remained. Then the machines were set to work in her armpits, this far more sensitive region causing her stifled cries to increase. Again the women tried to comfort her as they worked, their hands delicate to her features, making her melt into their touches as the machines plagued her.

  For a brief moment she thought that her ordeal was at an end, but then they ploughed their evil devices into her pubic regions. The curled forests were hauled out by force and made her croak in despair, battling to show no weakness before the women.

  Mina wanted to beg and plead for them to stop, to throw herself against her restraints, but the women were oblivious to her distress and would complete their methodical trimming without any pause. Stubborn pride was making her fight natural instinct, her face aflame from straining as she swallowed her need to yowl.

  The thrumming tone of the implements stopped and Mina sagged, her loins flickering with prickly seas of discomfort. Tears were blurring her eyes and a cool euphoria dribbled through her, the aftermath of her fight and her pains giving way to a relaxing sloth. Panting, she watched as they put away their devices and without any other word, sidled from the chamber, leaving her alone with her thoughts and confusion.

  Mina tested her bonds once more, pulling at them, seeing if she could get free. But they had been engineered flawlessly for their function and she was trapped.

  Lying in her bonds, possessed of a warm internal glow after the fires of her maltreatment, endorphins continued to feed her natural euphoria, making the recall of her torment a sweet thing to be cherished. She tried to be loyal to her goal, but for now she was too enfeebled to do so and thus chewed upon the sweet flavour her ravishment had left upon her.

  Chapter 6

  The door opened again, permitting a trio of new arrivals to wander in, the contrast of their midnight forms against the stark white background making their bodies seem all the more dark.

  The Oread were little more than ghosts of rubber, sealed from head to toe in smothering folds of black. The perfectly moulded suits flowed down to incorporate gloves, each finger transformed into a plain jet stem. Mina pondered on how the density of the fabric had to be considerable, because they walked stiffly, their joints fighting the shell. It was clearly easier to try and retain the original shape of the garment and move in small tight motions rather than attempt anything more strenuous. There were no creases or ridges, the suits fitted them flawlessly, the density preventing even a wrinkle at the joints or on the tightly spread polished planes of their prisons.

  The faces of the women were lost beneath plain hoods with a slender visor of mirrored plastic to permit them sight and two small holes through which their noses stole them their breath. Mina could see their jaws were spread acutely into a buried shriek, forced open by gags that dwelt within the hoods and thus could not be expelled no matter how fervently they might wish to.

  The long hair of each erupted from the backs of their heads, the plume of locks tumbling down, the disembodied ponytail being the only means to judge difference between them, for they had no other identity. There was a redhead, a blonde and a brunette, each perched atop stiletto heels that seamlessly mated with their one-piece garments.

  Silent save for the rhythmic click of their heels upon the tiles, the anonymous entourage wandered over with small steps, one of them bringing an upright goods trolley with her. The reclining slat trundled upon its two wheels and was armed with fat leather restraints across its entire front. Setting it upright, the woman left it and attended Mina, leaving the trolley balanced upon its extended foot.

  Warm digits of rubber brushed Mina’s cheeks, smooth and scented with the dense perfume of the fabric. The rattle of buckles sounded and Mina had the gag extracted from her face, the ring slipping free and drawing out lines of saliva as it was carried away.

  Closing her aching jaws, Mina licked her lips, moistening them, closing her eyes with gratitude that the object had finally been removed. Her relief was momentary, because instead of the ring gag a much more effective type was taken from a drawer and brought over to her.

  Before she could protest the stout rubber plate was pressed to her face, the flaccid balloon upon it crossing her lips and falling into the cavern of her maw. Mina did not resist as they toiled, instead she left her eyes fixated on the women. What was going though their minds in this eerie bondage? Deprived of sensation, sealed tight, their only senses were sight, smell, and motion. Sight would be hampered by the visors, and scent corrupted by the sheets of aromatic latex adorning them, leaving them virtual rubber zombies, prisoners within a skin-tight cell that obstinately struggled against their every attempt at movement.

  The plate of her new gag had a moulded chin cup that gathered her lower jaw in its arms prior to throwing out a selection of straps. These wove around her head and along either side of her nose before connecting and riding over to meet another pair that rose by her ears. The apex of all was marked with a riveted ring whose purpose she could hazard predictions of suspension to.

  The straps were pulled one by one, tightening them into place, the rubber bands dense, their elasticity causing their grip upon her skull to increase and lock the faceplate ever more firmly to her lips.

  Her acquiescence to this muting of her words faded as an inflation bulb was slowly screwed onto the emerging nozzle on the outside of the plate. The gloved hand of the woman crushed it in a fist, her efforts fighting the resistant thickness of the gloves. The balloon started to obediently swell within Mina’s mouth, blooming quickly, taking her tongue and stamping it into the base of her mouth.

  Mina’s eyes rolled and bulged as the woman continued without pause, making the sac continue to grow within her. More force was exerted onto her jaws, spreading them as her mouth was more effectively filled. Wringing her hands she tried to slip her bonds, the taste of spicy latex sweeping through her palette. Her jaws ached as they were made to fight the straps, trying to break through the plexus that housed them. The bulb reached deeper, a great oval that started to close upon the back of her throat, making her retch and break into new paroxysms to get free.

  Mina calmed herself, knowing that panic was her enemy here.
The gag reflex would subside once she had accustomed to the rigours of the silencing implement, so she started to regulate her breath, overcoming instinct. Even with all her skill at bodily control it was still not an easy feat as her stretched jaws impeded breath with the elongating of her nostrils, reducing the vents as her features were left moulded into a silent wail.

  The women paused, standing over her, seeming almost inanimate because there was no glimpse of flesh. Mina wondered what such confinement must feel like - the heat, the oppressive restriction, the sheen of moisture from sweat making them squirm within the layers, the absolute denial and control imposed on them.

  Once it was clear that she had grown fully used to the effects of the gag they began to remove her bonds, setting her free of the eager table.

  Two of them helped her sit up and then shifted her from the examination apparatus. Her bare feet dropped to the cool tiles, the attention of wax upon their undersides making the chill floor a welcome and soothing presence beneath her.

  The ghosts helped support her because her limbs were weak from the prolonged captivity and her exhausting fight against it. The third manned the trolley once more, standing behind it and holding the gripped handles.

  Laid against it, Mina offered no denial to their intentions. They were taking her to the next stage of the process so she was getting nearer her goal, and besides, she had other matters to think about, like her hunger for this sort of control and her envy of her attendants.

  Working in perfect unison the rubber mannequins locked fetters in place, then other straps grabbed her knees and thighs and then her waist. A cross formation was laid over her chest, pinning her to the trolley as her arms were lifted over the back and stretched down the other side, a pair of shackles being buckled and leaving her sealed to the transport. A panel at her shoulders was lifted, extending straight up and being screwed into place. This thin headrest offered another strap and a chain. One was sealed across her gag, the holes in the leather letting the nozzle emerge while the chain was snapped to the ring on her crown and then tugged back before being locked, taking full control of her head.

  Mina stretched against the web responsible for imprisoning her, not to see if she could escape, but to appraise her senses of just how effectively she was bound.

  With the passenger unable to move in the slightest, the trolley was tipped back and Mina was wheeled from the room, watching impotently as the chamber passed her by. The monoliths of latex marched beside her, their lost eyes fixed forward.

  A corridor sprawled onward after the door, its end hidden because her view was primarily locked to the ceiling. The white hallway had a line of fluorescent strip lights running overhead which produced a steady strobe effect that rolled past as the wheels squeaked softly to themselves and the heels of the women clattered upon barren tiles.

  Another automated door whirred aside and she was wheeled into a new room before being stood upright once more. The Oread women lined themselves next to her at attention, respiring softly through their nose vents.

  The chamber was small and empty, devoid of all furnishings save a table upon which several plastic boxes had been placed, each with a barcode imprinted on its lids. The wall opposite had a thick metal door, a security lock beside it requiring a card and a code to permit access. A large rectangular window of dense glass ran beside the secured portal, spreading across the rest of the wall and offering a puzzling view.

  A massive raw cavern had been gouged from the stone, the clear marks of mechanical tools allaying any thought of this being a natural cave. Korin had crafted this facility, and she could now see what it served.

  An interior bay had been created, a large pool occupying the centre with a mini-sub bobbing gently in the waters. The dark submersible lurked in the pond, its back clearing the surface like that of some mechanised sea beast lazing in a vast aquarium.

  A raised turret offered an entry hatch, its hide painted with a crazy pattern of dark blues and blacks. Mina knew the visage of underwater camouflage; such dazzle patterns were used to stop it being easily spotted from the air. This was an illicit mode of transport, one that Korin wanted none to know about or be able to follow.

  All around the cavern were refuelling tanks for air, along with recharging batteries for the sub and a horde of maintenance equipment to tend the vehicle. The sub itself was of a type designed for extreme depths, making her wonder just where she was going to be taken.

  With a merry chirp of affirmation the lock opened and the door before her slid aside. The mechanism hauled the foot thick portal back into the wall to expose Asclly, although now Mina knew it to be none other than Scylla herself.

  The woman had changed from mundane attire and was now dressed solely for fetishist endeavours. A harsh corset of rubber drew in her form, laced at back and front with a pink thread that violently contrasted the polished jet depths of the corset. From beneath this uncompromising garment arose a pink vest-top whose latex neckline offered up her cleavage and hooked bright straps over her shoulders. A black skirt dropped from beneath, reaching down to mid-thigh before pink latex stockings took up the further responsibility of coating her tall form. Knee high boots of black patent leather and pink rubber were zipped up and added to her intimidating height with their dagger heel. Her arms complimented the black latex with opera gloves that reached to her biceps, the fingers cut from them at the first joint, exposing her pink painted nails.

  Clipping her card to her corset, the female sauntered forward, the rubber stretching and groaning upon her frame, rippling with the play of her muscles, refracting light upon the wrinkles. The door closed steadily in her wake and locked with damning precision once more.

  ‘Well hello again, Miss Kraken,’ she purred, wandering towards her, exuding a lethal crapulence, a sense of utter power over Mina that reminded the trapped girl of just how naked she actually was.

  Pink nails wandered down Mina’s unveiled skin, tickling her gently with a meandering route as Scylla studied the new arrival with lazy intensity.

  ‘Mmmm, very nice. Even better than I had hoped. I’ll look forward to making use of you,’ she stated softly, and ended her appraisal with the cupping of a breast. Mina sagged a little into the arms of her bondage, the feel of the warm latex palm to the underside of her breast a tender delight. The pleasure was magnified as Scylla stroked Mina’s nipple with her thumb while squeezing in gentle grasps, holding the pert mound in assessment.

  ‘I’m so glad you accepted our offer. We’ve so much to show you, and so much you can learn.’ She grinned, and leant in to place a soft kiss to the teat, the brush of lips to the aroused point making Mina sigh with libidinous hunger. Scylla then let go and retreated towards the table.

  ‘Begin preparing the recruit for her journey,’ she commanded, bringing the monitoring females to instant activity.

  They unbuckled the restraints and eased Mina from the trolley, ensuring that not only did they support her, but also that they kept firm reign on her should she try to resist. Mina knew she could overcome them all with ease, but she needed to get to Charybdis, to see it, to know what was going on, thus she would have to let herself be processed.

  One of the boxes was opened and a slender metal belt was removed along with a separate crotch piece, the garment much more subdued than the examples she had seen on the nurses. Two other boxes provided the women with the necessary plugs and they were screwed into position as Mina watched, mesmerised.

  The latex fingers of her attendants brushed against her, enclosing the steel hoop of the chastity belt to her waist and with a wrench of effort they locked it. The silver circle clamped just over her hips, its restriction significant.

  With a slight push they bent her over at her middle and aimed the second part of the intimate prison into her. Two of them slipped to her sides and held her with hands placed to shoulder and hip as the third braced to insert. With a sh
ove the plugs were slithered deep and the locks snapped into position. The installation was performed so quickly that Mina did not have time to resist or respond accurately, and as the damning click echoed, she threw her head back and gasped with shock. Instantly the women bolstered their holds, battling Mina’s shuddering fit.

  The plugs had eased her open and leapt deep into her, filling her more than she would have assumed possible. Now they were ground terribly deep, their position maintained by the band. Her muscles squeezed upon them, trying to get them out, but they were steadfast and would not be interfered with.

  Scylla aired a chuckle at Mina’s response and soaked up the confusion on the captive’s face with a personal delight, the image of another female being subjected to such deeds one she found intensely satisfying.

  It was a bizarre sensation to be so controlled, to be denied a part of herself and kept in such a state by the will of others, and though the belt was uncomfortable, Mina found herself more than equable to its strict command.

  The women let their holds dwindle and then stepped from her, leaving Mina tottering unsteadily on her feet. No sooner had they let go than the cause of the small nodule she had spied on the belts was divulged.

  The hum was almost inaudible when it seeped through the smooth band of the belt, but there was nothing so indistinct about the heady rapture that was poured through her straight after. The resonant vibrations of the device tickled in the most expert and delightful way, causing her body to tense and quiver as though imitating the nodule. Her legs seemed to melt beneath her and she found herself being supported and held up by the attendants who ducked in to catch her.

  ‘I take it the belt is in full working order?’ Scylla quizzed with a smirk.

  The attendants looked to their mistress from within their smothering masks, seeking confirmation of their next task. The ritual was obviously practised and well known to them through personal experience as well as methodical enactment.