The constant titillation made Cyril rise again. In vain he tried to control his ejaculation, but was unable to do it. Squeezing his thighs together was useless. At last his come mixed with the food, turning it to a porridge-like paste.
Seeing this, the burly wardress picked him up as easily as if he had been a baby. She turned him over on her lap and spanked his bottom with her bare hand. He howled as tears spurted from his eyes.
‘Dirty little man!’ she bellowed. ‘Can’t keep from wanking, can he? Like a monkey in the zoo. Right! He wants to be treated like an animal, he can act like one. ’
She threw him on the floor on all fours where scraps had fallen.
‘That’s where you’ll have your food from now on. On the floor. And don’t use your hands to pick it up. Eat it up!’
The steel in her voice warned him he had better obey.
When the meal was over, Cyril and Erica were sent to the Junior Recreation Room. They found the room occupied by trainee-Dominatrices partly-dressed in closely fitting leopard skins. Their long pointed nails, like claws, and sharp white teeth that glistened as they opened their mouths, were a threat to the manhood of anyone foolish enough to oppose them. .
‘Here’s fun, girls,’ called one of the trainees. ‘A couple of wanking lovers. ’
She looked at the two men.
‘Let’s have a race,’ she called, ‘and we’ll lay odds on them. This one is Frenchie,’ she said pointing to Erica, ‘and this one is The Come-Queen. ’
‘I’ll lay 5 to 1 on Frenchie,’ called a young trainee whose right tit dangled loosely out of her leopard skin.
‘Done,’ called another.
When the betting had finished, Cyril and Erica were placed face to face and ordered to hold each other’s cock.
‘When I say “GO”!’ said the organizing trainee, ‘you will start wanking one another. The winner will be the one who comes first. As for the loser . . . ‘she laughed, ‘. . . we have ways of dealing with him! Interesting ways, haven’t we, girls?’
A laugh went around the room.
The race was won by Erica who had not been milked as often as Cyril.
‘While their come-banks are re-filling,’ said the leading trainee, ‘we’ll have a display of lesbian-love. ’
A naked long-haired Dominatrix-trainee stepped forward, followed by another trainee with a closely-cropped head. Both women wrapped their arms around one another as they gazed intently in each other’s eyes.
The closely-cropped girl lowered the other slowly to the ground. A deep sigh came from the long-haired one as her lover mounted her and spread her legs widely to accommodate her partner’s hips. Cyril saw both sets of fingers seeking love spots, probing, stroking, pressing the sensitive places.
Full, deep kisses followed. The long-haired girl on the ground began to move her body up and down, giving little moans, while the upper girl uttered a series of animal grunts as her pelvis jerked into her partner.
Now the lower girl began to scream.
‘Yes! Ah, yes! Do it! Oh, my love. My only love. ’
The yearning bodies were thrashing about wildly. The girls rolled over and over in ecstasy, legs sliding over partner’s hips and back again.
First one bare, rounded bum was on top, then the other. Muscles clenched and relaxed as their passions rose and waned with the rise and fall of their imagination.
The onlookers were silent as the scene built up.
‘Squeeze her cunny,’ a trainee near Cyril breathed. ‘Make her squirm. ’
As if she had heard, the long-haired beauty pinched her partner’s quim-lips, drawing a gasp of pain from the girl on top.
‘Bitch! Oh, you lovely bitch,’ she cried.
She pushed her hand between the other girl’s thighs. Cyril could not see what she was doing. Soon the long-haired girl was squealing also.
Their mouths sought one another’s in a final hot kiss which left them lying exhausted, wrapped together in a limp embrace.
Cyril could not keep his eyes open any longer. His breath was coming rapidly - coming in short bursts as thrill after thrill ran through him.
Chapter Fifteen
A piercing scream ripped through the calm atmosphere.
Two squabbling trainees were hitting each other, tearing at each other’s flesh as they fought.
As the wardress pulled them apart, the girls shouted abuse, spitting at their opponent. The wardress slapped each girl hard across her bum.
‘Be quiet!’ she shouted. ‘I’m not interested in who started it. You’ll settle your differences in the ring. Naked and oiled!’ She glared at the couple. ‘Now strip,’ she added mercilessly. ‘And oil up. ’
Hastily the trainees complied.
Cyril and Erica were forgotten as the girls prepared for the match. Cyril watched them rub grease all over their bodies, making them gleam in the lights. Their arms, armpits, bodies, between the thighs, legs and between the buttocks were smothered with the grease.
As they anointed themselves, he could hear them cursing each other, spitting and snorting. One of the girls grabbed a green elastic garter and slid it round her right thigh. The other put a black one on.
He was going to see a hate-fight.
The starting bell rang.
Spitting still, the girls came warily towards each other, circling, looking for an opening. After about 30 seconds, Green garter suddenly made a dive towards her opponent.
Black garter smiled contemptuously as she twisted her body slightly, causing Green to miss and slide past her, falling to the floor.
Swiftly bending down, Black grasped Green’s waist, pulling her up towards her own breast. When the surprised girl was in the correct position, she began to twist Green’s nipple between thumb and forefinger.
Ignoring Green’s shrieks, she continued to tweak and pull the nipple until Cyril thought it would come away from the girl’s tit.
With a violent heave, Green managed to drag herself out of the cruel grip. At the same time she stuck her own fingers inside Black’s vagina.
Cyril saw Black shudder as Green’s fingers curled, seeking something inside.
A wild scream came from Black as Green’s fingers found their target. Her legs flailed around like washing hanging out to dry.
Green’s face was terrifying to see. She had a malicious grin which signified her evil intentions. Her fingers were hooking themselves inside Black’s cunny, tearing at something that was concealed.
The tortured girl managed to get her legs behind Green’s thighs. She pulled them together towards her own body and jerked, tripping her opponent. Both girls fell to the ground and rolled apart.
Black was the first to recover.
With a wild yell, she flung herself on the other girl, winding her as their bodies clashed. Her heels began a rapid tattoo on Green’s back. Then, sliding her feet downwards, she started to kick her heels in the area around Green’s kidneys.
Black had gained the upper hand.
‘Here, you two poofs!’ Cyril heard a voice call. ‘Stake your bets. Choose which you fancy to win. ’
‘Yeah,’ another trainee chimed in, ‘and if you choose the loser, you’ll be given to the winner for her pleasure. ’
Erica looked frightened.
‘I can’t choose,’ he whined. ‘I’m not a betting type. ’
‘Choose - or we’ll make it worse for you. ’
The trapped men made their choices. Cyril chose Black, Erica had Green.
Meanwhile Green had broken away and was busily jumping on the fallen Black. Again and again Green jumped on Black’s unprotected stomach.
Froth appeared between Black’s lips. Her eyes turned up and she seemed to be pleading. There was nothing to stop Green now from finishing the bout.
; Green rose to her feet and stood back from the prostrate body of her opponent. Her eyes were puffed from the fighting she had been through. Blood welled from an exposed tit which was showing claw marks. Slowly she lifted up her foot and paused.
She took aim, measuring the distance carefully. When she was ready, she drove her heel straight into Black’s stomach, making her heave and gag.
The fight was over. Green, Erica’s choice, had won.
The excited onlookers grasped the breast-heaving, weary winner and pulled her up to where Cyril was standing.
‘Take him,’ said the wardress. ‘He’s yours now. ’
Without a word, Green raised her talon-like hands and hurled herself on Cyril. She clawed and scratched deep weals down his sides.
Her hands flew to his balls. Slowly and deliberately, she dug her nails into their covering sacs, ignoring his screams as she tore away the covering flesh.
She pulled him round and sank her teeth into his bare bum, not giving him any chance to defend himself.
Cyril felt her teeth snap together on his bum-cheeks. As the skin broke he fainted with the pain.
When he came round, Cyril found he and Black were tied face to face on separate stakes. There was very little space between them and he could feel the warmth generated by Black’s quim.
‘Where are we?’ he groaned.
Black shook her head.
‘Keep very still,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t make any noise. You’re in the Spider Room. They haven’t released the spiders yet. They’re saving that bit for when you’re fully conscious. ’
‘What will happen then?’ he shuddered.
Black shrugged.
‘Some are driven wild with desire. They’re the lucky ones. Others go mad. Perhaps they can be considered lucky, too. They never know what happens. All I know is, neither of us is going to get off lightly. ’
His eye was caught by a shape slithering towards him on the floor. As it came closer, he recognized it as a huge, furry spider.
There was nothing he could do except watch as it got nearer to him. It climbed on one of his bare feet, sat still a while and then started its climb.
He saw another spider begin to crawl up Black. Both spiders had reached their respective victim’s ankles. They started to climb up the legs, every now and then slipping backwards but managing to stop before sliding down to the ankle again.
Slowly, very, very slowly, the spiders rose up the trussed-up victims’ legs and on to their bodies. At the places where the spider’s body had touched, Cyril found his skin had erupted into an itchy rash.
The spider was now at the top of his left thigh. Where would it go now? he wondered.
He did not have long to wait. The creature, attracted perhaps by Cyril’s pubic hair, started to burrow there.
He felt the spider crawling around his genitals. His cock rose as the movement aroused him. He couldn’t help whimpering as he realized his helpless state.
The spider crawled on further; into the crease between his thigh and his stomach; along his cock, stopping only when it reached the tip of his penis.
He began to sweat as he foresaw the horror of its next move.
The spider ran lightly around his glans, its touch causing him to writhe, raising goose-bumps as it passed on. He tried to ignore the possibility that came to mind.
The creature forced open his orifice, dragging itself inside. He could feel its hairy body plunging deeper into him. Looking down, he could see some of the legs were left on the outside of his shaft, waving furiously in the air.
He screamed, driven almost into madness by the tickling. Close to him, he could see Black was being treated similarly. The spider had entered her vagina, leaving a few wildly-waving legs outside, mingling with her pubic hairs. Violent shudders wracked her twisting, turning body.
Their shrieks of raw fear and forced desire mingled. Both defeated Dominatrix and slave were united in their suffering. Their attempts to shake the torturing creatures away were useless. Their screams became weaker as their strength dissipated.
By the time Lashley arrived, wearing only a pair of high-heeled leather boots and long black gloves, accompanied by several cherubs, Black and Cyril had exhausted themselves and were hanging listlessly in their bonds, oblivious to the furry bodies running over their tortured bodies.
Lashley laughed as she saw the state the victims were in.
‘Cut them down,’ she ordered the cherubs. ‘Tie them face to face in the 69 position. They will give each other comfort like that. If they suck hard enough,’ she sneered, ‘they’ll suck the spiders out of their bodies. ’
Chapter Sixteen
A musky odour seeped into Cyril’s consciousness. Gradually he became aware that his mouth was pressed against something soft, something that yielded to pressure. At the same time there was a feeling of warmth surrounding his limp member; a warmth that was gentle and moist.
The odour grew stronger. His eyes flickered open. The first thing he saw was flesh-coloured. Tender flesh.
Unable to move his tightly bound hands, he touched the flesh with his tongue, raising his chin to do so. The flesh quivered as his tongue ran across its surface.
The aroma was identifiable now. It had the unmistakable smell of Woman. A woman’s secretion . . . and his mouth and face were pressed down into it.
His cock quivered. The warmth surrounding his member was now firmer, stronger.
His mind was starting to work more rapidly now, seeking answers, rejecting improbabilities. His senses told him he was bound to a woman. What was more, he was facing her genitals, and she was facing his.
Even if they had not been tied together, they would have been attracted to one another, by reason of scent, of their closeness and of taste. All senses were aroused.
His organ twitched. She was clearly getting as many thrills from him as he was from her. He wanted to show her his appreciation, his understanding, and his desire to continue.
He started to lick between her thighs. He went slowly at first. As the tension rose, his movements speeded up. On her part, she began sucking more intensely, faster and faster still.
They were now furiously giving each other satisfaction. He did not know who she was, but it didn’t matter. All he knew was she was reciprocating the pleasure he was giving her.
A series of low-pitched moans reached him. They did not come from his partner, he knew, but from behind him.
He turned his head to one side. Standing astride them was Lashley. Her hand was between her thighs as she masturbated vigorously. Her mouth had fallen open and there was a frantic expression on her face as she rubbed her hand backwards and forwards, moaning sporadically. A riding crop dangled from her other hand.
As he watched, Cyril saw a patch of dampness suddenly appear between her fingers. The patch became larger, developing into a glistening trickle running down the inside of her thigh. Her face contorted and her moans stopped. She started to give gasps which became quicker and quicker. Her luxuriant breasts heaved, the nipples rampant. Her knees started to give way.
For a moment Cyril thought she was about to collapse on the couple lying beneath her.
With an effort, she stopped herself from falling. The tip of her pink tongue ran over her lips.
‘Come, you wankers. COME!,’ she panted.
She raised the crop and brought it down across Cyril’s buttocks. The unexpected cut brought a howl from him.
Again she brought the crop down, this time against his partner’s bare thighs which reacted violently, revealing a black garter.
A feminine squeal came from beneath him. Cyril now knew to whom he was tied. It was the trainee-Dominatrix who lost the hate-fight.
The crop came down again on each one in turn. Thinking he was being urged to come quickly, Cyril pulled himsel
f in and out more quickly to try to give out. At the same time, he dare not stop kissing and licking the fragrant cunny.
The tied couple spouted almost at the same time. As Cyril shot his spunk, he felt warm juice trickling into his mouth.
Lashley was now cropping them indiscriminately, screaming in unrestrained frenzy.
‘COME, you wankers, COME!’ she screamed. Every word was accented by a fresh cut from the crop.
Cyril was drained. Unable to produce another drop, he lay motionlessly on the ground, absorbing every stinging slash rained on him. Feebly he was also aware that nothing more was oozing between Black garter’s thighs. She, too, was spent.
At last the lashing stopped. He felt the bonds being cut away. On being ordered to stand up, in spite of his efforts he was unable to obey.
The Dominatrix managed to scramble to her feet. Her face was distorted with pain and wet with her tears. She sank to the floor again and fumbled with Cyril’s cock, ripping the flesh with her pointed fingernails.
Then she leaned over him and sank her teeth in his bum, leaving her toothmarks in various places.
She picked up his weary cock, trying to milk him again. Unable to give any more, he found the pain excruciating.
‘Please . . . No more . . . Please,’ he begged.
Lashley had now recovered her strength.
‘You have seen the superiority of Woman over Man,’ she scoffed.
Cyril nodded as he groaned agreement.
‘Very well,’ Lashley said. ‘As you have a weak cock, it must be strengthened. ’
She ordered the cherubs to strap him down on the table.
‘Icepacks,’ she commanded.
One of the giggling cherubs held up his flaccid cock and flicked it with his finger. Cyril shuddered as the other cherubs placed the packs around his shrivelled member, packing them round until it was numbed by the cold.
Under the Lash Page 8