The Girlflesh Castle

by Adriana Arden

  They watched him leave and then Vanessa said: ‘There’s something I haven’t shown you yet. I thought it might be too hard to take. But now you believe the girls are here voluntarily I think you should see it. It might help you understand what it’s really like between master and slave …’

  Taking up the leash of the remaining Cherry girls, she led the way through the small heavy door and into the corridor of private dungeons. Jennifer shivered at the changed atmosphere, peering about in the flickering light of the electric torches.

  ‘Fantastic place, isn’t it?’ Vanessa said cheerfully. ‘This is where the clients can take their time with us one to one. There are different sizes of cells. The one at the end is a king-size deluxe for regular group orgies. You’ve got to see it …’ She led the way to the last door, opened it up and turned on the lights. ‘There …’

  It was a large room with piers and buttresses dividing the walls up into shallow alcoves. Straw was scattered about the stone-flagged floor. Fresh warm air whispered through wall grilles; it was an air-conditioned dungeon. In the flickering electric torch-light loomed massive and ominous devices.

  ‘Go on, have a good look round,’ Vanessa said, giving Jennifer a gentle shove forward. In a daze the woman wandered between the implements of restraint and torment.

  The walls were hung with tethering rings and chains and racks of canes, lashes, paddles, ropes, gags and strap-on dildos. But these were just adjuncts and accessories to the mechanisms that dominated the chamber.

  There was a high-back torture chair built of heavy baulks of blackened timber, fitted with numerous hinged metal cuffs. Its seat was hollow and under it were the thrusting spikes of impaling mounts. A backbreaker rack with its bow of ribbed bars and heavy cuffs and chains rose like the arch of a bridge. Assorted chains and straps dangled from ceiling hooks above it. Resting against a wall was a big flogging frame with a heavy rope net strung across it. The frame had a footboard fitted with double pairs of cuffs and a second double set hung from the top bar of the frame, so two girls could be accommodated side by side. A big timber box, hung about with ropes and rings, had a massive square timber post rising from one side. From the front of the post hung a heavy spreader bar on a winch chain. There was a ‘Y’ frame festooned with straps along its arms, mounted on a waist-high tilting stand. On a slightly higher stand was a short riding horse beam, its serrated ridge jutting upwards like the pitched roof of a house and stained with the juices of the girls who had ridden it. Chains and cuffs hung from the roof above. Then there was a massive table stretcher rack, with solid upright securing panels at its head and foot, pierced with holes for wrists and ankles. The panels slid along grooves in the tabletop driven by gear rods controlled by hand wheels projecting from each end of the table. A set of stocks was braced on a baseboard that also supported a set of leg spreaders. Finally in one corner stood a huge mummy case complete with a gold leaf decorated death mask. Its glittering eyes seemed to survey the room with satisfaction.

  ‘What do you think?’ Vanessa asked.

  Jennifer gulped. Her eyes were flicking round the room nervously and she appeared to be sweating. ‘What do you expect me to say? This place is used for inflicting pain and humiliation on helpless girls.’

  ‘No,’ Vanessa corrected her gently, ‘it’s used for fun and entertainment which comes from pain and humiliation being applied to willingly helpless girls in the way they like it. For instance, the Cherry girls have been missing out on dungeon practice in the last few days so I thought I’d give them a few hours in here to make up for it. No pain, just restraint. Do you want to give me a hand?’

  Jennifer went pale. ‘To help you strap them down … fit cuffs on them?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Vanessa said easily. ‘Unless you have a problem handling women’s bodies? Are you exclusively hetero?’

  ‘No, I’ve had female lovers. I think women’s bodies are lovely.’ She spoke those words with perfect confidence and openness, then the look of fear returned and she seemed to retreat into herself again: ‘But this is … something else. Don’t ask me to abuse them!’

  ‘I’m not asking you to abuse them or use them sexually, just to help me restrain them,’ Vanessa said patiently. ‘I’m going to do it anyway so you might as well help. Besides, you haven’t had much hands-on experience with the girls yet. Leading them on a leash hardly counts. You can’t pass judgement on Glen Lothy if you haven’t felt what it’s like to handle a girl properly and fit her into restraints. OK, so it’s not your thing but it would help you get an idea how the guests feel when they use them. It doesn’t mean you agree with it, just that you’re trying it out, you see?’

  ‘But I don’t even know what half these things do –’

  ‘You can guess … unless of course it’ll upset you again.’

  Jennifer looked alarmed. ‘Upset?’

  ‘Like you were last night. That was one reason I wanted to talk to you alone. I’ve seen how seriously you’re taking this decision you’ve got to make. You’re trying so hard to be fair it’s upsetting you. That is why you ran off last night, right? The responsibility of making the right choice was getting a bit too much. It’s a compliment to us, really.’

  Jennifer appeared to clutch gratefully at the flimsy suggestion. ‘Uh, yes … that’s right. It was stupid to get so emotional. This place is such a shock. I just want to do the right thing … to be fair.’

  ‘Well, I wanted to say how much I appreciate that,’ Vanessa said sincerely. ‘Not many people in your situation would do the same.’

  Jennifer smiled for the first time that morning. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So in the spirit of that fairness and understanding you can help me now.’

  Jennifer gaped at the patient coffle of Cherry girls with their eyes shining and nipples hard with anticipation and seemed to shrink away.

  ‘Mike’s not around to see and we won’t be disturbed,’ Vanessa persisted before Jennifer could say anything. ‘Look, I’ll bolt the door … there, now it’s just us girls having a bit of fun.’ She grinned. ‘So, just for fun, and I accept you don’t do this sort of thing normally, who do you think should go where? I know what their favourites are but can you guess? Look at them carefully. Which girl will most enjoy what device?’

  Had her verbal manoeuvring been too obvious, Vanessa thought anxiously as she forced her expression to remain guileless and open. She had pushed the idea of it all being innocent as much as she dared, trying to make it seem as painless and casual as possible. Now she watched as Jennifer looked along the line of bound female flesh and licked her lips. Come on, girl, let go a little …

  ‘Well,’ Jennifer said slowly, pointing. ‘Perhaps she could go on that table …’

  ‘Call her by name: Rachel Nine goes on the stretching table. Good choice …’

  Rachel was a tall slender brunette. Vanessa unhitched her from the coffle and led her over to the table, then sat her up on it and swung her round.

  ‘Can you lift up the top halves of the foot stocks?’ she asked Jennifer. The girl obeyed and Vanessa had to smother a grin of elation.

  Rachel’s wrists were uncuffed, and her arms were drawn above her head to be laid in the upper stocks, which were closed about them. Her ankles were similarly confined. Both sets of holes were lined with dense foam rubber to prevent marking the skin and also to ensure a firm grip. Now Rachel was stretched out flat along the length of the narrow table, her feet and hands protruding through the holes in the stock boards. Vanessa turned the control wheels, winding the upper set of stocks along the table and dragging Rachel’s arms with them. She stopped only when Rachel moaned and her slim body was drawn out to a trembling tautness. Her ribs were showing under the tight skin of her chest and her breasts had been elongated into lozenges capped by hard pink nipples.

  Vanessa reached under the table and brought out a sprung rod with a dildo on it. Jennifer goggled. ‘What are you going to do with that?’

  ‘Match her discomfort and h
elplessness with a bit of pleasure, of course. It’s what slave girls like …’

  She pushed the base of the rod against the foot-stock board and slid the dildo end into Rachel’s tight pale slit, which swallowed it eagerly. Rachel clamped her teeth about her ball-gag and closed her eyes, wiggling her hips as far as her tensioned body allowed.

  ‘There,’ Vanessa said with satisfaction. ‘Doesn’t she look happy?’

  ‘I suppose so …’

  ‘And she can suck on that for hours. Perfect choice. Right, who’s next?’

  Jennifer looked round her. ‘Well, what about, uh … Tina Ten on that post and box thing …’

  Tina was small and neat with straight black hair, olive skin and almond eyes.

  ‘The spreader post,’ Vanessa said. Yes, it suits her …’

  They uncuffed Tina and laid her on the box with her head pressed up against the side of the post. Her arms were pulled out and tied to rings at the back of the post.

  ‘Tie a rope over her middle, will you?’ Vanessa asked.

  Hesitantly Jennifer drew a dangling rope across Tina’s slim stomach and threaded it through one of the rings on the box side.

  ‘Tie it tight,’ Vanessa said. ‘Don’t be afraid to be firm. That’s what they like. Loose cuffs and ropes look silly and they’re an insult to a true slave. They want to feel properly secured.’

  Jennifer gritted her teeth and pulled the rope until it dug into Tina’s flesh and tied it off.

  Vanessa raised Tina’s legs and doubled them over until she could tie her ankles to the spreader bar hanging from the post above her. The rope across her middle resisted the upward pull on her body. This forced her small rounded pubic mound with its neat pink slit to bulge from between her smooth stretched thighs and showed off the puckered mouth of her anus.

  ‘Now let’s give her something to play with,’ Vanessa said. She brought a rope up from the front side of the box, ran it through Tina’s cleft and between her small apple-round breasts and tied it to her collar ring. Tina moaned and squirmed, the rope sliding though her wet slot.

  ‘A little pain and a little pleasure, see?’

  Jennifer nodded, her eyes lingering on Tina’s contorted body.

  ‘Who next?’

  Jennifer chose to put Olivia on the torture chair. She sat with her thighs spread wide and her bottom and pubes hanging over the seat hole while they closed the cuffs about her ankles, wrists and neck. There was a set of broad straps that crossed over her chest, dividing her breasts and squeezing them outwards.

  ‘Big-titted girls know their boobs are going to get extra treatment, don’t they?’ Vanessa said to Olivia with a smile. The helpless girl nodded mutely, wide-eyed with anticipation. There were light sprung chains and clips hanging down the sides of the chair back. Vanessa ran a couple of these over the top of the chair and clipped them to Olivia’s plump nipples, stretching them upwards.

  ‘And I suppose you’re going to put one of those things up her as well?’ Jennifer asked, looking at the bristling rods under the chair.

  ‘Two of them,’ Vanessa said. ‘Slave girls are used to having both holes plugged at the same time …’

  She fitted a pair of dildos from the tray under the chair to the rods and screwed them upwards until they penetrated Olivia’s plump cleft and her dark anal pit. Olivia grunted as they slid inside her, clenched her buttocks and began to work her hips up and down.

  Vanessa stepped back to admire her handiwork, wiping her brow. ‘Phew, isn’t it warm in here? And we’ve still got three to go.’ She looked Jennifer up and down. ‘You’re dripping with sweat. Why don’t you strip off and get comfortable.’

  Jennifer looked aghast. ‘What? Be naked like them? No, I couldn’t.’

  ‘No, you’re definitely not one of them,’ Vanessa assured her, ‘not with your personality. And you haven’t got a collar on. That makes all the difference. We’re totally private in here and you can do what you like. You’d be a mistress who chose to work on her slaves naked for comfort. Go on, you’ve got a lovely body … enjoy the freedom of not having it wrapped up in sticky clothes. You can bet that’s what almost everybody else does down here.’

  ‘I don’t know …’

  ‘Keep your shoes on. The heels give you a little extra height and make you look superior, but get rid of the rest. You don’t have to be shy around slaves. And I’m one as well, remember …’

  With a deep breath and a sudden slightly naughty smile Jennifer began to strip off her clothes. In a few seconds she was naked but for her shoes. Vanessa looked at her with approval. ‘There, that’s better. Now, who next?’

  Dark-haired, pale-skinned and Celtic, intense Madelyn Seven went on the riding horse beam, its serrated ridge polished smooth by so many thighs and vulvas before her, dividing her pubic lips and digging up into her cleft to grind against her clitoris. Her ankles were cuffed behind her to the base frame of the horse and its height was adjusted so that she had to stand on tiptoe to take any weight off her crotch. A ceiling chain hooked to the back of her collar kept her upright. Even as they stepped back Madelyn began to work her hips back and forth, happily rubbing her pubes along the wooden teeth.

  Out of the corner of her eye Vanessa noted a flicker of a satisfied smile playing about Jennifer’s mouth. Yes, it was working.

  Strawberry blonde Victoria was strapped on her back to the ‘Y’ frame, with her arms above her head and her legs splayed almost painfully wide, showing off her fiery pubic bush. Jennifer got quite involved in checking the tightness of the many straps that bound her immovably in place.

  ‘What are you going to give her for pleasure?’ she asked.

  Vanessa pulled out Victoria’s gag and replaced it with a rubber plug from which a chain ran between Victoria’s pale breasts, cutting through her red pussy, and dangled between her spread legs. On the other end hung a lead weight. Every time Victoria turned her head a few links ground across her clit.

  Finally blonde and busty Yvonne was bent over the backbreaker. Cuffs held her arms over her head and ankles wide. The bow of the rungs pushed her hips and stomach up high, while her large breasts flowed up her chest to hang almost inverted, their brown nipples hard. They were not allowed to stay that way. Cuff straps linked to ceiling chains were bound about them and pulled tight, lifting the heavy globes into the air until they bulged like fleshy mushrooms. A big rubber hook with a bulbous tip was also deployed to dig deep into her vagina. Squirming and wriggling her hips rubbed its shaft against her clitoris.

  Vanessa looked sideways at Jennifer as she surveyed the girls writhing in their happy bondage. She seemed to have forgotten her own nakedness as she stood with her hands on her hips. It was a good pose, Vanessa thought. There was definitely an expression of satisfaction on her face.

  ‘Can you smell it?’ Vanessa asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The scent of girl juice. Look at it dripping out of them. There are half a dozen pussies in here pumping it out. They know they’ve been mastered. Isn’t it an incredible perfume?’

  Suddenly Jennifer frowned and became self-conscious. Her eyes turned away from the girls. ‘Well, this has been … weird but interesting. I agree the girls seem to like it. But it does make them so open to abuse by the guests. Can they ever be safe? I’m not sure. I need to think …’

  She’s making up excuses for herself again, Vanessa thought. Right, phase two goes ahead as planned. Sorry, Jennifer …

  Aloud she said: ‘Before you go you have to look at this …’ She led Jennifer over to the magnificent mummy case. ‘Now …’ she raised her arms dramatically ‘Open Sesame!’

  And the lid of the mummy case swung open.

  Slavemaster MacDonald stepped out of the case and grabbed Jennifer by the arms even as Vanessa reached round and rammed the ball-gag she had surreptitiously picked up into Jennifer’s gaping mouth. Then together they pushed Jennifer face forward against the inside of the lid, ignoring her frantic gurgling cries of fear and rage. The lid
was fitted with an array of projecting foam-covered blocks, snap cuffs and quick-fastening straps designed to hold a standing figure clear of its curving shell. They secured her neck, arms and waist and then forced her feet up onto the broad inner lip of the lid, spread and cuffed them in place.

  They stood back. Jennifer was straining at her bonds and wailing and grunting furiously, but she was securely fastened within the lid frame, with her nose about twenty centimetres from a small flatscreen display that was mounted on the inside of the bulge of the lid’s face.

  ‘Good luck, girl,’ MacDonald said to Vanessa gruffly.

  ‘Thank you, Slavemaster,’ Vanessa replied.

  He strode to the door, unbolted it and left. Vanessa went over to a rack, took down a strap-on dildo and buckled it about her hips. The rubber phallus shaft was already greased.

  The girls strapped to their frames had all twisted their heads about to watch Jennifer’s capture and confinement. Now they nodded and smiled at Vanessa round their gags and then lay back again. She smiled back at them. They knew what to do.

  The mummy case was deep enough for Vanessa to climb in behind Jennifer. It was also fitted with restraining straps. Interesting combinations of slaves and masters could be played out in here, but today the principal activity was going to be outside.

  Vanessa pulled the heavy lid shut and they were enclosed in darkness. The tip of Vanessa’s strap-on dildo brushed across Jennifer’s bottom. Jennifer wailed. Vanessa turned on a dim red glow tube above their heads.

  ‘Sorry about this but you wouldn’t jump so you had to be pushed,’ she said, putting her arms about Jennifer in a friendly hug so the dildo bent upwards and slid along her buttock cleft. She laid her chin on Jennifer’s shoulder and said in her ear: ‘Don’t waste your time struggling or trying to scream because this thing’s soundproofed. We won’t suffocate because it also has its own air supply. An air-conditioned mummy, eh? Only in a Glen Lothy dungeon!’

  Jennifer snuffled and jerked at her straps, not appreciating the finer points of her strange prison.