Mina was shown into the room and taken to its very centre, her bare soles being chilled by the cool flagstones beneath her feet.
The leash was tugged down, making her comply and sink to her knees. Oceanus removed the clip and strode with his wife to equip himself with a length of rope. As the two of them turned about and regarded her, their faces were bathed in hints of shadow, and they stretched their coils menacingly, fuelling Mina’s submission.
‘Lay on your front, slave,’ ordered Oceanus, stepping towards her again, his gown flowing about him.
Stretching down, she used her hands to carry herself forward and draped herself across the floor, her breasts being pushed to the cool stone by the weight of her body.
The two Titans were upon her immediately, their deft and expert hands operating the ropes with celerity. Coils grabbed each ankle and were stretched out, parting her legs to a degree that made her inner thighs ache a little. The lengths were knotted to distant rings on the floor, preventing her from closing her legs and thereby denying them any access to her most tender regions. The position had her a little concerned, for such obvious targeting of such regions would make the goal of attaining silence extremely difficult. Mina started controlling her heart and breath, focusing on the task ahead, concentrating on her success.
Mina assumed they would spread-eagle her, leaving her procumbent on the floor and stretched out before their sadistic desire. Instead, she was surprised when they fastened their ropes about her wrists as expected, but then twisted them behind her. Once they were upon her back they folded them at the elbow and drew them up. Mina bit down on her murmurs of protest from the pose and merely continued to remain still as they recommenced their work.
A swift knot joined the two ropes and connected her wrists before they swapped places and walked to the floor rings. Placing their ropes opposite those rings that ensnared her feet, they left Mina bound in an uncomfortable but extremely effective configuration.
The two dominants sauntered to the cabinet and removed identical instruments. Each was a metal stave, a ring at the base, a spiked circlet at the head. Both poles hurled forth a plume of thick latex straps, the metre long tentacles like black ribbons that danced and twirled as they wandered back to Mina.
Wriggling against her restraints she found herself unable to move in the slightest, and a purring groan escaped her lips as they trailed the latex tongues across her helpless form, the cool material slithering against her skin.
‘Are you ready, slave?’ asked Oceanus, dragging his whip down her spine, making goose bumps rise across her legs and arms before it rolled through the crease of her clenched buttocks.
‘Yes, Lord,’ she whispered, her eyes closing as she placed her cheek to the floor and braced herself for the forthcoming lambasting. No sooner had she assented than a whip was thrown up in an overhead arc that brought it down square against her buttocks. The whip itself was not terribly pernicious, the broad tendrils spreading the impetus amongst them, causing a bright and loud signal of impact that was more responsible for her jolt than the actual effects of the blow.
Another sweeping descent caught her rear, the impacts like broad spanks of a hand, the cracking slap of them to her rear filling the room with its echo. Another stroke fell, and another, the two Titans working together, applying their castigation with steady rhythm.
Once a dozen or so had fallen Mina began to feel more increasing levels of discomfort, the whips having imparted a candescent glow to her rear, and the sensitised skin was now beginning to grow irritable of the steady lick of the scourges.
Gritting her teeth, Mina bolstered her willpower, quashing the need to grumble from the rising effects of the abuse. The methodical deluge of latex slaps continued without pause or deviation in its timing and Mina’s hands started to strain at their rope-forged cuffs, trying to force them down to cover her brutalised rear. The pain was not terrible, but it was annoying, a niggling distress that was worse in some ways than a cane or crop because it seemed to inspire rebellion all the more easily.
Heedless of her dilemma, Tethys and Oceanus continued to apply the whips, and began to use them on her thighs, the new regions began to swell with havoc far more quickly than her rear, especially when the tips of a lash swept in to catch her susceptible inner thighs.
A soft murmur poured over her lips and she began to shudder a little, her front cold from lying on the tiles, her rear and thighs hot and engorged with sensation. Mina started to notice her own enjoyment of the event. The fervent sting in her hindquarters was arousing, a trait she had not been aware of so diligently had she been concentrating on enduring this without protest. But when she detected it, and let herself revel in it, she found comfort in the strokes, in the feeling of being bound tightly as they beat her. The distress was not all that bad, and now she had chosen to devote herself to enjoying instead of enduring, each stroke became even sweeter to her masochistic senses. The groans and moans that now welled in her throat were not of dismay, but of relish, and as they continued, tears of pleasure started to gather in her eyes and run down her cheeks. Sobbing hisses fell from her mouth as she squirmed on the floor, her mouth agape, her eyes clenched shut, her rear lifting slightly, escalating the effects of the rope as she presented herself as a more wanton target. The outward difference in response was almost imperceptible, there being little difference between the actions of a girl in agony or in ecstasy - the moans, the writhing, the tears, the flushed skin and sweating shuddering flesh.
The major trial now was not to complain or wail from the pain as she had expected, but to stop herself from soliciting more, from setting loose a yowl of pleasure to answer the continuous impact of the lash across her rear and legs. With stalwart defiance she denied herself such responses, finding it considerably more difficult than she had imagined. She knew how to take pain, how to resist it, how to fight back with rebellion in her heart and mind sharpened to a razor’s edge, but pleasure was a sweet thing, and the responses it craved were a lot harder to subdue.
The fight Mina found herself waging against her own body was one that had her shaking with perseverance until finally an impact landed and no more followed.
Panting against the floor, her heart racing, her body alive with adrenaline, she sobbed softly, wracked by a bizarre pleasure and satisfaction, her gratitude to them for the experience immense.
The hand of Oceanus descended to rest on her cheek, and Mina grizzled freely as she nuzzled into the hand, offering her thanks through salty tears and choked sobs.
‘There, it’s all done,’ he stated equably. ‘You did well, slave.’
‘We’re proud of you,’ added Tethys, running her hand over the glowing rear of her property, making Mina shiver a little from the feeling of someone caressing such a well-punished zone.
‘You’ve earned the right to swim with us, slave,’ awarded Oceanus, taking his hand away and starting to untie her arms as Tethys handled her feet.
‘Thank you, Lord, thank you so much,’ she blurted, the words said more to pay homage for the whipping than for allowing her the prize they had promised and which had been a delight to earn.
As she was set free, Mina furled herself into a ball, drawing her stiff limbs around and huddling them together against her chest, her rear still shivering with an internal heat.
The leash was gathered and clipped to her collar, placing her under more tangible control. Lifting up, the pull at her throat brought Mina to her feet, her stance a little wobbly but stable enough. Oceanus gathered a set of ordinary steel handcuffs and brought Mina’s hands behind her. The teeth of the cuffs chattered and locked into place about her wrists, the short chain keeping her arms behind her back as her head lowered in submission. The merest act of slight bondage brought her into a loyal frame of mind. The feel of shackles, of another’s control over her seemed to be enough to render her utterly docile to them.
‘Are you ready t
o come with us, slave?’ asked Tethys, wrapping the leash about her hand for a firmer hold.
‘Yes, Lady,’ Mina beamed in response.
A swift tug brought her in the wake of her two owners and carried her from the room at a rapid march, her gait tremulous from the lingering effects of her recent chastisement. Her hands grazed her buttocks, her fingers gently rubbing the aching skin and savouring the memory of what had been done to her, and all the while anticipation gnawed at her from within like a restless rat.
She was led out of the bedroom and back onto the winding paths of the undersea domain, walking the plush routes that led them to an elevator. After summoning the conveyance, a short journey in silence was conducted down through the levels and the gleaming doors parted to expose a fresh room.
The smell of latex was potent within, the scent pouring into Mina’s nostrils, making her shiver with expectation at being formed into a new facet of existence.
‘This is the preparation room,’ said Tethys, pulling her into the dark hall. ‘Here you will be readied for your swim.’
Mina’s eyes were wide as she obeyed the pulls of the leash, her vision soaking up every detail of the eldritch wardrobes on offer. The first thing she beheld was a horizontal pole hanging in the middle of the room at shoulder height, like a steel trapeze with chain links from either end extending up into the ceiling. Built on the wall beside it was a winch, the cogs drilling into the wall to hide the full mechanism from view. Upon the pole before her were lines of thick rubber straps, ready to grab a slave and pin them to it, serve them up to the sights she beheld in the arsenal of tiny compartments throughout the room. Behind the pole, set further back was another chain, the dangling links connected to a single conical fetter, the rubber-lined leather marked with numerous buckles and obviously of a size that would encompass both feet together.
The walls of the chamber were almost fully taken up by small lockers that were set into them, each with a translucent door that had a small label affixed to the outside to divulge what lay within. Inside each cabinet was an esoteric costume, almost all of them formed exclusively from latex and assorted plastics with steel fittings in places to offer security and strength.
The colours and extravagance of the outfits were wild and striking, the various costumes designed for show and fetishist allure. Some could be for the Titans, but from the severe level of straps and other restrictive applications on them, she could tell that this room was probably for Nymphs. The labels on the doors had thrown her momentarily, for they bore titles of the nobles, but when she saw Oceanus open one marked with his and his wife’s name, she realised then that these were speciality costumes that the Titans saved for their more prized specimens.
To place their favourites in the caste of an ordinary human fish might have them become lost amongst the anonymity such costumes created, whereas these outfits would allow the Titans to recognise and recapture their favoured pets should they become separated in the deep waters.
Her owner reached in and took hold of the first part of her outfit, the garment resembling a halter necked cat suit, save that instead of separate legs, it flowed down as a single stem that became a plume of fins. Dense struts flung from the feet, a sheet of silver latex stretched between them to force Mina into a full mermaid status.
The breasts and rear of the suit were also missing, instead replaced by a buckled strap about the aperture to help lock her into the desired position. The material itself was thick and instead of the ordinary bleak depths of black she had come to expect from the fabric she enjoyed so much, it was a stark snow-white. Worked expertly into the material was a touch of silver, the glitter creating waves of rippling scales down the entire affair, the refractions of weak light onto them revealing a hint of how wonderful it would look when slithering through the depths.
Tethys reached to the back of her neck and removed the collar, readying her for the act of being mummified in the latex cocoon.
Mina was presented to the pole and her arms lifted up. The cool metal was now running the backs of her arms and her shoulder blades, the slight touch of the shaft becoming far more close as the straps were buckled about her limbs, crucifying her upon the trapeze.
Belts were set across her wrists, above and below her elbows, and at her biceps. The moment the bright click of the buckles being threaded ended, Tethys strode to the winch and began to turn the handle. The chain grumbled with metallic squeaks and started to rise up, dragging Mina from her feet and into the air so that her toes barely grazed the floor. The straps kept her pinned in position and suspended as the outfit was brought over to her, her legs hanging limp as she watched with trepidation and awe.
The cool folds of the slick sheath were gathered up and drawn over her feet and pulled up. Within the latex she found the interior divided into two tubes, one for each of her legs, like leggings that had then been moulded together. With careful pulls and tugs they hauled the garment up, removing the wrinkles, ensuring it was stretched tight upon her physique. Her toes entered the socks, where she found the material dense enough to keep her forced to a ballet boots position. A twitch of her toes made the tail fins shimmer, and she continued to watch the process of her devolution.
The sense of being swallowed up by this costume was distinct as it continued to ride up her body, sealing her within as she lay helpless to defy it, as though the costume had an agenda and will all of its own. With the two Titans working in unison it slipped over her hips, compressing her waist with its stern constrictions. Her rear was forced through the gap, the buckled belt squeezing even more firmly once it was set into place. Her breasts were fed through the waiting openings, and the zip that ran along the upper reaches of her spine was drawn up. Mina sighed with rapture at the feel of it squeezing her ribs, driving the air from her lungs as they pulled the fabric closed and ran the zip up to the back of her neck.
Feeling as though she was in a corset that was as long as her entire body, Mina quivered against her restraints. The clinch about her breasts was heightened when the straps there were locked about their base, squeezing them out to make them even more prominent and more sensitive from the crimp.
An air tank was taken up, the subtle device flattened against the contours of her back to almost lose it from view. Set against her spine, straps were used to secure it into place, the tiny nozzle at the tip being the means she would use to refuel her air.
Two small earplugs were placed into her ears, the plugs reaching in as the rest of the mechanism spiralled about her ear to lodge them in place.
A hood was selected and presented to her head, the white latex bag fitted with a slender crest that ran from her brow to the nape of her neck. The silver latex folds were strengthened with struts to make them rise up slightly, the shimmering cascade draping down to her upper thighs, the cold gossamer fabric tickling her rear. The hood was pulled down over her face, the helmet hugging with wicked strength to her skull. Straightening it, the two Titans forced a sizeable ball gag into her mouth, squashing her tongue beneath it and spreading her jaws wide. The gag was part of the interior of the helmet and fed two air hoses through it and along her cheeks to be connected to her air supply.
Opening her eyes, Mina found herself staring through a visor, the vision slightly dulled by the one-way glass. From without she knew the silver plastic screen would hide her eyes, and drawing breaths through her gag she watched as they continued with her preparation.
The hoses had been connected and she was accessing her own personal reservoir now - the air warm and spiced, making her a little light-headed after just a few lungfuls. She could have passed the euphoria off as a by-product of the bondage and her desire for it, but there was a slight tang to the air that betrayed the addition of other intoxicants. Whether such additions were necessary for survival, or to make the Nymphs more amiable to their lot was a matter for contemplation, but Mina had far more pressing subjects in her mind
, namely the arousing feeling of being so effectively bound.
Her ankles were taken up and drawn back until they could be snagged by the other restraint. The single cuff was buckled about her tail, enveloping it and then rising up as Tethys flicked a switch on the winch and began to take in the slack of the other chain.
Mina grumbled slightly against her gag as her tail was hoisted up, swinging her like a rubber bound hammock between the two points. Once her feet were level with her head, the switch was again changed and her torso was lowered back down towards the floor, her plumes falling before her eyes to trail on the floor beneath her.
Set at a steep angle, the blood rushing to her head as she breathed deeply of her own personal air supply, Mina watched with eagerness as the Titans began to unfasten her arms, setting her lose of the trapeze. Letting her hang limp, Mina was left like a landed fish, hauled from sea and hanging for the perusal of its captors. Her hands lay on the floor before her, each breath she took making her ribs push against the obstinately defiant rubber sheath. Her breasts and rear were engorged with sensation from the early stages of their captivity, and she could guess that her arms were next on the list of transmogrifying impediments.
Each Titan took an opera glove and began to force it up her arm, her fingers being pressed into a single mitten without feature. Internal slots gathered all her fingers, the moulded glove separating each digit and locking them together in a single bunch. Deprived of manual dexterity, she found the gloves impossible to remove as straps at her bicep were used to fix them irrevocably in place. From the elbow of the sheaths, a plume of silver latex spilled as a banner for her to trail with each sweep of her arms.
For a moment she thought they had finished, but then the two of them took her wrists and forced her arms up behind her back, running her forearms into awaiting grooves on her air tank. She fought them a little, struggling against the increasing bondage as she hung inverted, her meagre protest achieving nothing save defeat as they began to buckle the limbs into place, running straps across her arms to capture them and leave them sealed and useless behind her.
Captured by Charybdis Page 23