The girl was in pain. Alone, in a semi-dark room, she suffered in painfully tight ropes. She moaned and would have cried but held back the tears bravely. Her young, firm body was stretched out from the wrists bound together and tied towards the ring in the ceiling to her toes that only just touched the floor.
White cotton clothesline cut into the flesh above her knees and at her ankles. Her clothing was simple: there was none. Unless you count the screw down clamps, one on each nipple. Or the rope. Or the gag that should have filled a horse's mouth, not a pretty young girl of eighteen. It was a metal bar, forced under her tongue and strapped tightly in place.
The only light was that dim night time reflection of the city that was cast down from the grey clouds and coming in the window.
She moaned and alternated between hanging from her wrists and taking what weight she could on her toes. Either way hurt. For a while, right after she had been strung up and left alone, she had kicked out with both bound legs and thrashed around like a fish at the end of a line. But the anger was worn down by the constant pain. Not severe pain, but ever-present and horrible.
There was a noise and a thin line of light showed under the door to her prison. The tortured girl came to life. Finally, they were coming back. The door opened and she had to blink at the harsh light. Another woman was outlined in the doorway. The only sound was the clicking of her heels as the walked across the hardwood floor. She stopped before the stretched-out girl and smiled. Then she slowly walked around the girl, noting the firm muscles, lovely lines, and the pained look in her eyes. The girl moaned some sounds that might have been a plea, but it went unanswered. Instead the woman watched the clamped nipples as they raised and lowered the slightest bit with each breath. She lightly ran her fingernails across the tip of each nipple where it came through the clamp. That sent visible shutters down the girl's spine.
The woman seemed fascinated with the squashed, tender flesh. She flicked each nipple with the point of her fingernail repeatedly, enjoying the reaction it evoked from the bound girl.
But that game didn't last long. Without warning, the woman suddenly tightened down each clamp another full turn of the screw, ignoring the loud protests. Then she turned and walked out of the room.
The door slammed and the girl was alone in the darkness again. Her sad moans echoed slightly in the small, bare room. She again sought relieve from her pained wrists by standing on her toes, until her arched feet ached so much she couldn't stand it. Then she hung again.
CHAPTER TWO - INVITATION TO A PROFESSIONAL WOMAN
Linda walked up the steps to the lobby of the Beachwood Apartments and tried not to squint her eyes too much. The smog was irritating again that day and she had lost her sun glasses. Between the smog and brutal California mid-summer sun, she has been squinting all day and trying not to rub her eyes. That only made them worse.
The cool and shade of the lobby was most welcome. The pretty young woman unlocked the mailbox and added the two letters she found there to the pile in her purse without even glancing at the return addresses.
She crossed the small lobby, past the open door labeled Manager, past the elevator without even checking to see if it was on this floor, and out the glass doors into the courtyard. The small, kidney-shaped pool was directly beyond the doors, but she turned left and went up the stairs.
Apartment 221 was home. A typical California apartment: a tiny bedroom, smaller kitchen, even smaller bathroom, and a front room, all decorated in tacky, pseudo-modem, cheap-as-hell junk from the local discount store. She threw her purse on the kitchen table, made sure her door was bolted, switched on the air conditioning unit below the window, and shed the light weight, soft blue dress. The shoes and underwear joined it on the bathroom floor.
For a few seconds she just stood there, eyes closed, letting the cooler air caress her sun-heated body. Then she opened her eyes and studied the woman in the mirror.
Just turned twenty-two, the body was still young, firm, curvy in the right places, slender at the waist, and endowed with breasts big enough to turn men's heads. Linda had been pretty content with what nature, or her mother and father, had given her. Breasts, bigger than average but not bovine, with nice shape and perky little nipples that turned up slightly. She noted the firmness of the tummy and muscle tone. A small amount of daily exercises, not overdone, but not forgotten, kept her in good shape.
With a sigh, she turned away from the mirror. It was more than vanity that kept her attention on her shape. It was her livelihood.
Taking her mail from her purse, she stretched out on the bed. The two letters from her mailbox were opened and discarded when they proved only to be an announcement of a sale at a store she never went into, and an offer to sell her some great investment in silver ingots stamped with the likeness of famous movie stars.
The remaining letters, a stack of eleven envelopes with postmarks arranging all over Los Angeles and surrounding communities, were opened one at a time and carefully considered. Most went into the trash bucket, some were set aside for reply.
All the letters, whether rejected or saved, were offers of sex, or sex and money. They might have puzzled the average stranger, were he to read them over her shoulder. But to someone who reads those swingers newspapers and noted that all these letters were addressed to a post office box, would understand. Linda was one of those girls who, for whatever reason, made money from having been given a body attractive to men and the willingness to use it. In short, she was a prostitute.
But not the kind to wander the streets or bars at night. She made her contacts via the classified ads of special newspapers. And she visited them at their apartments, sometimes homes, and more than occasionally, motels. She also charged a fair amount and knew she was worth it.
And to attract customers to her she placed a small ad in two of the local swingers newspapers. Nothing fancy, just a simple statement of a single girl who would like to meet men for fun times. She didn't even qualify them as "generous gentlemen," which would have been a sure sign of a prostitute advertising. The ad was accompanied with by a small photo showing enough of a naked woman to demonstrate a fine figure but that left the face rather indistinct. The tiny ads generated a surprising amount of mail for her post office box.
Two of the letters picked up today were lucky enough to be saved for later reply and maybe a meeting. The lucky ones had said the right things. Straight-forward, honest sounding, and willing to pay. The amount would be decided on later, but these men came right up front asked how much it would cost and sounded like they could pay.
Some of the losers had promised her a great roll in the hay, although they expressed it in cruder terms, six or eight or twelve inches of pleasure, or a talented tongue guaranteed to drive her out of her mind. But they also offered all that for free and she was not in the business of giving it away for free.
The last letter was different. At first Linda took it for a crank letter. She had gotten some pretty weird ones. But the feeling was different here. It read too much like an honest offer, no matter how offbeat. It read:
Dear Linda,
I am writing to you on behalf of a group we call the Hellfire Club. It consists of myself and three other females who, like myself, are experts in the arts of unusual feminine sex. We are writing you to offer a chance to both encounter "a new learning situation" and to make some money, which is also obvious from your ad.
To put it quite bluntly, the four of us are always interested in acquiring a new slavegirl to play with. We can promise you tight bondage, teasing and playing with your helpless body, sexual acts both performed on your body and that you would be forced to perform on others. You obey us and no harm will come to you; disobey and the punishment will be uncomfortable but without permanent harm.
In exchange for an evening of being a submissive slavegirl, you will be quite well rewarded. We will discuss the exact amount when we meet in person, but I can assure you that it will be much more than you make peddling your body to "generous gentlemen."
We have had other slavegirls, and currently have three such lowly creatures. Since it is possible that your are unfamiliar with such dominate games as we play, we will offer you one chance to observe before you make a choice. When you have contacted us, we will arrange a meeting in a public place. We can talk and you can ask questions. Then we will take you to a place where one of our slavegirls will be put through some exercises. When we get to that place, you will be bound and gagged and seated in a comer, in the shadows, where you can observe but not interfere. You will see the type of games we play with our little female toys.
After that you will be untied, and taken back to the original meeting place. You will then be told how much money you would make and may make your decision. But that will be the only chance you will have. There will be no second chance.
Lest you think we are not sincere, I will enclose a photo of one of our slaves, bound up and awaiting our pleasure, and one of myself. We are quite serious, in our intentions to make you a slavegirl, our promise to cause no harm, and our ability to pay you a large amount of money. We all have wealth enough to pursue such games as interest us.
You may call me at (714) 555-9354 between 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. on Thursday the 24th.
Sincerely Yours,
It was signed Helena. There was a smaller envelope. Linda frowned but opened it. Within were two photos, both in black and white. One showed a very beautiful woman. Only her face showed but the impression was one of a powerful woman. One probably used to being obeyed. Linda guessed her age at early thirties. The hair looked black and very long. The lips were pressed together in a thin line, not in anger but firmness. One eyebrow was slightly raised as if she were asking Linda a question.
The other photo shocked her. There was a naked women, a girl really, probably not more than 18, bound and gagged. Tight bondage the letter had promised and someone had certainly put this young thing in just that. Her arms were pulled behind her back and tied with rope around the wrists and elbows. She was kneeling with her back to the camera but looking over her shoulder so both her bound arms and face showed. The face should have been on a cheerleader, innocent and sweet, a homecoming queen and model student. But here those innocent eyes pleaded. What seemed to be a small rubber ball filled her mouth and was held in place by a leather strap.
Linda frowned even more. For long seconds she stared at the bound girl. Then she carefully put the photos back in the envelope, added the letter and let both drop into the trash can.
She rose from the bed, stretched up on tip-toes and decided to write replies to the two good letters later after a swim. Donning a conservative one piece swimsuit, she went down to the pool.
The swim had helped. Linda removed her wet suit as soon as she returned to the apartment and did not bother to replace it with other clothing. She often liked to walk around her small place of privacy naked. It simply felt good. Of course, the drapes were drawn, and she hated the inconvenience of having to hide her living space thus. She longed for the day when she could buy a house of her own with a large fenced yard and do as she wished.
Tossing the two letters picked for reply on the kitchen table, she fetched her writing tablet and a small box. Carefully she wrote out an invitation in a small, fine handwriting.
Dear Stan, Thank you for writing. Your suggestions sound wild and I think it would be wonderful to meet you. There would, of course, be expenses but I'm sure we can work that out.
Why don't you send me your phone number and the best time to call? And thanks for that photo of yourself.
Love and Kisses, Linda The other letter was almost identical. She added a small photo of her from the box, this one showing her figure and face clearly as she stood there naked and smiled towards the camera. Then both envelopes were stamped and tossed onto the bar between the kitchen and front room to be taken out the next day to the mail box.
Having no clients, as she thought of them, tonight, Linda stretched and debated going out to dinner. Cooking didn't sound too attractive these hot, smoggy days of mid-summer. Perhaps that Chinese place a few blocks away.
Taking in a deep sigh, Linda realized that she was tense, almost nervous about something. She felt like pacing the floor. Usually a swim relaxed her. This evening there hadn't even been the usual young studs who hang around the pool, hoping to hit on any females who came to swim. She always put them off and most of them had gotten over their hurt male pride and accepted that she didn't want to date them. She was well aware there were two stories floating around, one that she had a boyfriend, the other that she was lesbian. Either would explain why she didn't take up any of the boys on their offers of dinner and more. Neither was true, but it served her purpose to let people think what they will.
And the prospect of two new customers should have picked her up. She had a steady group of repeats who provided most of her income without much problem. Each had his own time and place and were pretty regular. A couple more regulars would be good. They would help her save up enough money to get the hell out of this business and crappy town. Enough money to go someplace where there weren't thousands of people breathing down her neck, where the street weren't bumper to bumper cars, and where she could breath clean air.
But she was restless and didn't know why. Some psychic premonition about one of those two new prospects? She didn't really believe in psychic stuff. Something that had happened during the day? Nothing came to mind. With a shrug she headed for the bedroom and some clean clothes. Then it was off to a satisfactory Chinese meal.
Back at her apartment the feeling of restlessness remained. She tossed off the jeans and blouse and kicked the shoes into the closet. Stretching out on the bed, she closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. It was a technique that had worked in times past to allow what was really bothering her to come forward.
In darkness she let the sounds of the city come to her. There was the hiss of cars on the street, the distant tiny drone of an airplane going somewhere. And the slight rumble of air condition units.
A vision slowly formed. It was in black and white, a frozen piece of time that showed the face of a young woman. Linda recognized the face of the girl in that Hellfire photo. There was the dark colored hair, probably brown, falling over half her face. There was the innocence in her eyes, like someone's kid sister. There was the ball filling her mouth, parting her lips. Only a small part of the ball was visible, the rest must have been inside her mouth, filling it and pushing down her tongue. There was a leather strap going into the ball. A hole must have been poked through the ball to accommodate the strap. There was only the strap disappearing under her hair. The buckle must have been behind her head and must have been fairly tight.
Linda rose up to sit on the edge of the bed. She picked the letter out of the trash can and slowly withdrew the photo. For a very long time she sat there, staring at the ropes binding the young girl in the photo. As in a trance, her eyes roved over every length of rope visible as it wound around the girl's arms. She noted the way the rope dug into the soft flesh just above the elbows and held those elbows tightly together. The wrists were also tied tight but Linda kept going back to the elbows and their tight ropes.
It looked like some of that old cotton clothesline, the kind that used to be in every store but can't be found now. Whoever had bound the girl had not intended for her to free herself. Linda could see the knots tied tightly and at the elbows, nowhere near the fingers.
The girl's body curved in nicely at the waist and showed just the hint of a breast on the side she was looking back over. Her feet were together with the soles turned up as she kneeled on a carpet. Linda could not see the ankles and wondered if the they were also bound together. It would seem to go with the way her arms were tied.
It was a hot evening and Linda found herself sweating in the still air. Absently she walked to the air conditioner control and turned it on. Then she stood beside the bed with the photo in her hand. She found her eyes returning again and again to the ropes digging into the girl's arms above the elbows. Linda let the photo drop to the bed. Then she pulled her arms back behind her until the elbows touched. It tightened her chest and made her breasts stand out.
"Shit!" she exclaimed and stomped out of the room to go and watch television for a few hours before bed time.
When she retired for the night, she carefully put the photo back in with its letter and put both in the draw of her nightstand.
Linda slept uneasily that night.
CHAPTER THREE - DATE WITH A WOMAN
The next day was a Thursday and Linda had only one customer. He liked her to come to his plush office at the lunch hour. Then he would screw her right on his massive oak desk. He always came fast so Linda knew she would done in time for a nice lunch herself. Afterwards she would usually go to the library and spend a few hours reading.
The library was one place Linda felt at home. She had always liked books, her parents had given her many and that had started a life long love of reading and learning. And it wasn't just fiction. Linda took in history, natural science and even astronomy. There was just so many things to read, so much to learn, all so fascinating. And the library was the place to do it.
But today she had trouble concentrating on the printed lines before. Finally she closed the book and left early, deciding on a long walk. When she got back to her apartment the restless feeling was still there. And she was hot and tired from taking the long way home. Changing to her bathing suit as quickly as she could, Linda forced herself to swim fifty laps of the tiny pool before allowing herself to do what she knew she must.
Dried off but still unclothed, she took the letter out of her nightstand and carefully reread it. It told her to call between 8pm and 10pm on Thursday. That was this night. Surely it wouldn't hurt to call? What harm can it do to talk to a stranger over the phone? She'd done it enough times with strange men who she latter wound up in bed with. Maybe she would just ask if this whole thing was for real. In fact, it probably wasn't, she told herself. Just some weirdo's idea of a joke. Her ad now and then pulled in some really strange letters. This was just one of them. Someone thought that offering her lots of money for kinky sex was a joke! Sure, that was all it was.
But there was that photo.
That girl was real. Those rope on her body were real. That gag in her mouth was real.
Linda found herself wondering how much noise the girl could make with that ball gag in her mouth. Surely some noise. But talk? Probably not at all. That might be worse than being tied up-being unable to talk.
"Shit," she said and tossed the letter on the bed. Then she got dressed and took herself to a good steak house.
She got back exactly at eight o'clock, which she told herself was a coincidence. She tossed off the dress and did some exercises on the front room floor while wearing only her panties and watching a comedy about some short, furry alien. But she hardly heard the jokes and turned off the set before the final chuckle from the laugh track.
The letter lay open on the bed, an invitation to what Linda did not know. She dialed the number. On the second ring a woman answered, "Yes." The voice was husky but without sounding like a woman trying to sound sexy.
"I..." Linda began but stumbled. She didn't really know what she wanted to say. "My name is... Linda." There was silence at the other end of the line. Linda licked her lips and continued. "There are some questions I'd like to ask."
"This conversation is only to arrange a meeting," the voice said evenly, slightly on the stem side but still polite. "Do you wish to do that?"
"I would like to know some more about you... "
"If you do not wish to arrange a meeting, please hang up."
"Well... Seems to me you should be willing to answer a couple little questions... " She was cut off by the click of the other receiver followed by a buzzing dial tone.
Slowly she put down the phone. There had been no anger in that other voice. It was not being haughty, just stating facts. Well, she told herself, if they don't want to talk to me... But they had not promised to answer questions over the phone, only make an appointment. And this certainly didn't sound like somebody's idea of a joke. But hanging up on her had certainly been rude, at least. Yet, she was the one who was trying to step out of the limits of that call.
Linda walked out to the front room and turned on the television. It was several minutes before she realized she didn't even know what she was watching. So she turned off the set and walked slowly back to the bedroom.
For a few minutes she argued with herself about being reasonable and burning up that letter and photo. But the other side of the argument said that this Hellfire Club had simply offered her a chance to view their activities with a promise that she would not be harmed. What would it be like to watch a girl tied up like that girl in the photo? Linda had always shunned anything kinky. She had received offers, even damned good money, for kinky sex with men but she had always flatly said no. Most men were nice but there were a few weirdos out there... But this was a group of women. Surely that would be different from trusting a man? Maybe she could do something to insure her safety. Maybe...
Linda dialed the number again. It was picked up on the second ring again.
"Hello, this is Linda," she said, then hurried before her courage faltered, "When could I meet with you?"
There was just a second's pause at the other end then the same voice spoke, "Tonight."
"Tonight? Well... I guess so." Linda's safety device would work just as well tonight as another. "Well, okay. Where do I go?"
"There is a cocktail lounge on La Brea. It is called the Standing Room. Do you know it?"
"No, but I'll find it."
"Be there at nine-thirty. What will you wear?"
"Well... I guess my blue dress."
"And?"
"Well, white shoes and a blue handbag. I'll add a simple string of pearls. That okay?"
"Yes. You will be met by one of our members. You will know her because she will ask you if you would like to take a drive." The phone clicked then buzzed.
Linda bit the edge of her lip. What was she getting into? Meeting in a bar and secret passwords! She laughed. Maybe this was really someone's idea of a joke. She would go to that lounge and no one would come up with the password. But someone would be watching and laughing at her. Well, maybe it would be fun to try and pick out the joker from the crowd.
Or maybe she should just forget it. All they knew about her was her post office box. So what would they do if she didn't show? Send her nasty letters? Linda laughed, she'd already gotten more than one of those.
Okay, so maybe they are for real. And maybe they would really pay her good money to let them tie her up. Linda picked up the letter again. It promised "tight bondage, teasing her helpless body, and sexual acts." Well that didn't sound so bad. Except for the tight bondage men tease her body before. And she certainly was no stranger to sexual acts. She had even had a bit of a lesbian affair when she was younger so girl-girl lovemaking was not completely new. In fact, if any of them was as nice as Heather had been it might even be fun!
So it boiled down to did she trust them to the extent that she might be tied up. Did she? Linda didn't know. It didn't sound like a good idea and yet... Somehow it did. Maybe it was the money. She knew there were rich people with kinky tastes. And they didn't mind paying well to indulge those kinky tastes.
Without realizing she had made the decision, Linda was pulling her blue dress out of the closet.
Standing Room was a cocktail lounge, one of those that favor very quiet music, and many dark comers. Great place for lovers to meet. Linda let her eyes adjust to the dark then made her way over to the bar. She tried to sit on the bar stool without showing too much leg, and cursed herself for picking the shortest dress in the closet. Pleasing men for money might be her profession but she wasn't the kind who picked them up in a bar and didn't want to look like one. Finally she gave up and just let a lot of leg show.
The bartender was a tall blonde with big breasts. At least her white frilly blouse bulged nicely. She brought the white wine Linda asked for then retreated to the corner to serve someone else.
The bar was nearly empty on this Thursday night and it was hard to see just how many people were in all the booths in the dark comers. Linda looked around casually. No one was within two seats of her and no one seemed to take an interest in her. It was several minutes before she realized that most of the customers were women. Maybe all, it was a little hard to tell in the dim lighting. What did that mean? It was nine-thirty on a Thursday night. She hadn't expected a Friday or Saturday crowd. Could it be there just wasn't any men in here right now? Then she noticed that some of the girls had very short cut hair, almost mannish in style. It gave her an uneasy feeling and she was about to leave when a voice spoke to her.
"Hi. Buy you a drink?"
Turning around, Linda saw a short woman standing there holding a drink in her hand. She was dressed in a tight black pantsuit with a red scarf at the throat. Her hair was short and almost stood up in places. And she had a lecherous grin on her face as she eyed Linda up and down.
Linda was about to say no when another voice interrupted, "Wasn't there someplace else you had to go, Maggie?"
It was a tall blonde in a very slinky black dress slit up the side to reveal a nice amount of flesh all the way up to the hip. She looked like something out of a thirties movie: long blonde hair, red lipstick and half closed eyes. Linda was reminded greatly of a movie star she remembered from an old movie, Veronica Lake.
Maggie was suddenly flustered and made a hasty exit. There were forces going on here that Linda didn't understand. Why would this Maggie flee at a word from the blonde? And why were there only women in this bar?
The blonde slide into the seat next to Linda. "My name's Katrina, but don't ever call me Kat. Would you like to take a little drive?"
Looking over this blonde, Linda found none of the intense emotions she had felt projecting from Maggie. If anything, this blonde was too relaxed, almost as if she didn't really care whether Linda wanted to go with her or not.
"Yeah, why not? Where we going?"
"My car's out back." Katrina slid off the stool and walked away without a backward glance. Linda had the feeling that she didn't really care if she was followed or not. With a last swallow of wine and a feeling that she was getting into things over her head, Linda followed the blonde.
The car was a limo, long and black and complete with a chauffeur who held open the back door. The inside smelled of leather. Linda noted that the glass window between the back and front was up, giving them privacy at least in conversation.
Well, she told herself, at least there really is money behind the offer. And this blonde didn't seem particularly dangerous.
"Will it be a long trip?" Linda tried. She was fairly certain it would be a waste of time to ask again where they were going.
"Not long."
"Are you a member of this Hellfire Club?"
The blonde nodded.
"What is the club all about?"
For a second Katrina just looked out the window. "It's just a group of girls who get together to have some fun."
"With ropes?" Linda ventured.
For the first time Katrina opened up and smiled. It was a very nice smile. "Yes, with ropes."
"And chains?"
"Sometimes. Most of us prefer ropes. More personal."
Linda pondered that reply for a while. The car sped silently through the hot, muggy air of Los Angeles towards the low mountains to the north.
"You expect sexual acts from your... your guests?"
For a brief moment Katrina looked puzzled. "We call them slaves. Or slavegirls, since they're always female. And as to the activities, you can just wait and see."
That pretty much put a dampener on further conversation. Katrina seemed content to rest back in the soft seat and watched the lights go by. Linda wished she could be so relaxed but there was enough apprehension about going into this unknown situation to keep her on her toes.
The limo wound its way into what are called the Hollywood Hills because they form the northern border of the famous Hollywood. Quickly they were off the main streets and on the twisting, narrow, poorly lit roads that give access to the old and sometimes rather large homes hidden there. In the heyday of Hollywood this was a very prestigious area in which to live, noted for its mansions and homes of the stars. While not as posh as Beverly Hills, it is still an area too expensive for any but the rich to live in. More and more of the estates have heavy iron bar gates across the access driveway and closed circuit surveillance camera. It was into one such estate the limo drove, the tall, ornate wrought iron gate swinging silently back.
The house was hidden from the narrow street by huge trees and bushes, a wall of green to protect the privacy of those within. The headlights of the limo revealed a huge Spanish-styled mansion of two stories, white walls and orange title roofs.
The high heels of both girls clicked on the title floor of the entrance way. A third woman was waiting, a raven-haired beauty wrapped in a clinging red dress, with features that hinted at southern European ancestry, dark eyes and pronounced nose. Linda recognized her as the women in the other photograph.
"Welcome, my dear, to a meeting of the Hellfire Club. I'm Helena." There seemed to be a hint of laughter in the woman's voice. Linda recognized it as the one she had heard over the phone.
"I don't see much of a meeting," responded Linda.
The laugher broke out. "Touche! The real meeting is going on downstairs. Won't you come?"
Downstairs must have been some sort of basement for Linda saw no windows along the corridor after they descended the stairs. Three doors opened onto the corridor on the left, none on the right. The went to the second door. Inside there was a large room decorated like a lounge with sofas along two walls, coffee tables and a pair of comfortable chairs. Painting in shades of red and orange adorned the walls, mostly of Spanish bull fighters or dancers. In one comer near the door was a stout looking kitchen type chair of heavy wood. Linda saw no ropes or chains or whips. Also no naked bound up women. She turned and raised one eyebrow in question. It was an effort to make the gesture casual, inside she was nervous as hell now that she was actually in the power of these women.
"Please take a seat," said Helena, waving a hand towards the stout wooden chair.
Linda stepped over to it but did not sit down. She ran a finger along the back of it.
"Sit down, please." There was only the slightest hint of order. When Linda did not sit down, Helena continued. "You agreed to a meeting. The letter stated that you would get the chance to observe some of our activities. It also stated that you would be tied while observing. Tied but not harmed."
With a show of more courage than she felt inside, Linda sat on the chair. Primly she keep her legs together and straight in front of her. Her hands rested on her small purse in her lap.
Katrina kneeled by her side and took the purse gently out of her hands to lay it down on the floor behind Linda. Then she took each of Linda's hands and brought them behind the chair back. Linda was not able to see what was happening but feeling told her the full story. Rope, probably that same type of cotton clothesline, was being wrapped around her crossed wrists. At least it seemed to be about the same thickness as the rope she had seen in that photo. A dozen times the rope wrapped around her two wrists, firmly but not overly tight. Then it wrapped around them in the other direction. Linda could see in her mind the X shape made by her wrists and the X shape made by the ropes. Then some rope was wrapped between her wrists and around the other ropes. Suddenly all the ropes were tightened down very snugly. Knots, at least three of them, were tied on the top were her fingers could not reach.
Linda was breathing hard and wondering seriously if she should tell them she had changed her mind and wanted out. She could still stand up and run for the door even with her hands tied. There was fear but not panic. The fear was for her own safety but there was another emotion fighting against the fear. It wasn't just courage. It wasn't recklessness in the face of danger. It was something urging her to see what was ahead. Somehow it was a little frightening to have her hands bound behind her but also exciting. Linda didn't understand that feeling and the girls gave her little time to think about it. Perhaps she should have been more fearful of what was happening but she told herself that she could always tell them about the letter or make up some story about a boyfriend who knew where she was and would come rushing to her rescue.
"Our promise holds," said Helena. "You will not be harmed.
We will bind you to the chair then you will be able to watch some games." The word "games" almost purred. Ropes were now binding her ankles together. "But why do I have to be tied up?" she asked.
Helena brought her face near Linda's. "Because we want it," she said simply. Linda couldn't think of an argument. This was their show and she had agreed to it when she arranged for this meeting. Linda swallowed hard. Ropes were now being wrapped around her legs above the knees.
A rope linking her ankles with her wrists was being pulled on by Katrina with the effect of bring her feet back under the chair. The pull stopped when her legs were bend around the edge of the seat and her toes were the only part still touching the carpet. Katrina busied herself with knots. When she was finished, Linda found that trying to unfold her legs only pulled down on her wrists. Likewise, trying to pull her arms up tugged at her ankles. Her arms and legs were bound for the first time in Linda's life and it was a strange feeling.
But Katrina was not finished. A long piece of rope was looped around her tummy and the chair back. Several more windings went around her body and the chair until her stomach was tightly pulled in and welded to the chair. She found that she couldn't even wiggle her bottom.
"Go ahead, try to get out," said Helena. This time there was laugher in her voice. But Linda sensed that it was not diabolical laugher, not the insane cackle of someone who had slipped over the edge.
She tried. Quickly she found that her wrists were tight together and struggling did nothing to change that. Her feet could not be pulled out from under the chair, nor could her legs be spread apart. The rope around her knees prevented that. About all she could do was shake her head around and wiggle a bit. It was a strange, frightening and somehow nice feeling to be so helpless.
Remember that letter you left on your kitchen table, Linda told herself. Your safety factor-a letter telling about the Hellfire Club. In case you didn't come back. Actually, Linda didn't figure that the apartment manager finding that letter was going to do much good for her if she didn't come back. But she could always use the threat of that letter against them. Linda wished there had been some friend she could have told about this. But there was no one she knew well enough to confide something like this to.
Helena was smiling and Linda could hear Katrina moving behind her. More bondage? Before Linda could turn her head a black object passed before her eyes on its way to her mouth. And before she could react the black wad of leather was inside her mouth, pressing her tongue down. Quickly Katrina buckled the straps behind the helpless girl's head and the gag was in place. Linda tried to push it out with her tongue with no success. The leather tasted a little bit bitter.
Linda tried to say that she didn't want to be gagged and the words were almost understandable if muffled and garbled. Helena smiled and touched Linda's cheek lightly. "But we do, dear."
And that was that. The gag would stay simply because they wanted it to, and because Linda couldn't take it out herself. Linda was getting her first lesson in being in the control of others.
Suddenly both of the other girls were gone, leaving Linda to contemplate her bondage in silence and alone. Part of her mind told her not to worry, they were probably going to do to her just what they said. She would stay tied up while she watched their little demonstration then they would untie her and take her back to the Standing Room.
Another part of her mind told her that was ridiculous and she was totally helpless and terrible things were going to happen to her. If she had to put her emotions into words right then, fear and excitement would have been the words. Fear for what might happen to her, and excitement for the way it made her feel. Like going over the first huge drop of a roller coaster, it was terrible and wonderful at the same time.
Looking down, all Linda could see of her bondage was the rope around her knees. The rope around her stomach was pulled in too much to see it any more. And she couldn't see behind her back. For a while she studied the rope on her knees. She even wiggled her knees back and forth then side to side, watching the way the ropes dug into her flesh and feeling the tightness of them as she tried to move her legs against them.
It was then that she realized that her dress, not very long to begin with, was hiked up so far that all of her legs showed. Someone standing in the right position might even be able to see her panties, the dress was so far up her thighs. Linda was very conscious of things like that, and cursed herself for picking a dress that was more of a micro-skirt. It may actually be her profession but she hated looking like a whore.
At least the top part was adequate and showed only the top swell of her large breasts. But as Linda waited she was well aware that being this helpless meant those women of the Hellfire Club could remove that dress any time they wanted to. A shiver raced down her spine at the idea. She waited.
CHAPTER FOUR - DEMONSTRATION IN PAIN
When they brought in the girl Linda was, for some strange reason, disappointed that it was not the same girl as in the photos. This girl was a blonde and seemed to have a little fuller figure. She seemed to be about twenty-two or three. She walked in behind Helena and before Katrina, stark naked and not seeming to care about that. She also didn't seem to notice that there was another girl present, one tied to a chair and gagged. This girl, the "slave" that was going to be the major part of a demonstration for Linda's sake, keep her eyes lowered as if she were afraid to look her captors straight in the eye. When she turned to face Helena, Linda could see that her wrists were joined behind her back in shinning steel handcuffs.
"Kneel," said Helena, and the naked girl knelt down. "This is slave Donna, I trained her," said Helena to Linda with more than a hint of pride in her voice. "When she first came here she was rebellious and fought us at every opportunity. Now she's submissive and obedient, as a good slavegirl should be." Helena brought out a riding crop from behind her back. "Donna, present your breasts."
The kneeling girl leaned backward until her hands were on the floor and her body arched backwards. Her breasts were certainly "presented." Linda watched and wondered if what she thought was going to happen would indeed happen.
Helena expertly lashed the riding crop twice, once across each breast. The kneeling, arched girl cried out in pain and instinctively jerked away. She fell to her side, but quickly, and without a word, regained her knees and returned to the arched backward position.
"Stand," commanded Helena. Donna stood. Linda could see that there were angry red marks on each breast. "Bend over." Donna bent over, presenting her rounded bottom. Linda noted that she keep her fingers curled up and out of the way of her bottom. Helena took a couple steps to one side then swung her arm with all her strength to make the riding crop crack across the soft flesh presented for it. Donna gasped and almost fell over. But she maintained her balance and straightened until her bottom was again sticking straight up.
Five more strokes followed the first one, each landing with a solid impact upon the naked bottom. Each one brought a gasp from the slavegirl but nothing more. Linda cringed inwardly. That kind of whipping should have any girl screaming with pain and rolling around on the floor.
"Donna, kneel." The slavegirl straightened up then knelt before the woman who had just marked up her bottom with half a dozen vivid marks already turning colors not normal for human flesh. Helena presented the whip before the naked girl's face and, to Linda's amazement, Donna kissed it!
"Donna, service Katrina." Helena and Linda watched as Donna crawled over on her knees to where Katrina stood by the wall. Katrina pulled up her skirt, revealing the tops of her fine legs and a pubic patch not hidden by any panties. Somehow Linda wasn't surprised. The slavegirl tilted her head up and buried her face between the spread legs of the tall blonde. Linda couldn't see what was going on but from the sounds and the increasingly pleased look on Katrina's face, it was pleasurable. For a couple minutes Helena allowed the lesbian display to continue before she called off her slave. "Donna, return here." Katrina gave Helena a dirty look and reluctantly pulled back down her dress.
"Donna, go to this woman." Helena waited until the slave was on her knees beside the chair that held Linda prisoner. She reached over and pulled down Linda's dress to expose one very fine breast. "Suck it."
Donna instantly obeyed, placing her mouth over Linda's rigid nipple and sucking gently. Linda sucked in air at the first touch of the warm and smooth tongue on her excited flesh. This woman, this slavegirl, was good at this and soon had Linda fighting to keep from succumbing to the wonderful feeling. A part of Linda's mind told her to fight this, that it was wrong. But another part was all for giving in and enjoying. That part also hinted that there was something very exciting about this happening to her while she was tied up and unable to even speak. But Linda didn't want to do what these women expected. It was a contest of some sort and she didn't wish to show any weakness.
Finally Helena called off her slavegirl. "I could have tied you so that she would have access to all parts of your body. You would not be able to resist. In a few minutes, she could have you moaning with pleasure and right after that having an orgasm."
Linda didn't argue with that logic. But she also didn't want it to happen. Not that she was against lesbian lovemaking, indeed, she once had a girlfriend with whom she had some very interesting and fun times. But it was the idea that they didn't even ask if she would like it. She felt she had to fight back anyway she could.
Helena pulled up Linda's dress as much as could be easily done with her sitting on the chair. Then she tapped the smooth and shapely thighs with the end of the riding crop and Donna obeyed the unspoken order. The slave wiggled around in front of Linda, then leaned over to put her face on Linda's legs. For a second Linda wondered what was going on but quickly found out as Donna's tongue began licking her thighs, sometimes trying to bury itself between the legs. The tongue licked and stroked the nylon- clad legs, sending tingles shooting up Linda's legs. Being licked through the nylon of her pantyhose was surprisingly sensual and erotic. Slowly the slavegirl worked her way up the legs until her tongue was straining to reach the sex which was hidden between bound legs and the wooden seat. But that tongue sliding in and out between her thighs was damned exciting, and Linda had trouble keeping her face from showing the true emotions within.
"Enough." Donna backed away to kneel before her mistress. "So far," began Helena, "we have demonstrated that this slavegirl will accept pain, and will give pleasure at a command." She smiled at the helpless Linda. "Now I will show you that she understands completely that she is our property to do with as we wish." She held out her hand and Katrina placed a wicked looking knife in it. The blade was long, shone from polishing, and looked very, very sharp. Linda held her breath.
"Donna, present your breasts." Helena was still smiling and looking at Linda. She took one of the offered breasts when the slavegirl was fully arched backwards, held it grasp in her talons, digging in the fingers in a way that had to hurt the naked girl a hell of a lot. Then she placed the sharp edge of the knife against the base of the breasts. She drew the edge back an inch and a tiny line of blood appeared along the shinning blade. "Donna, I am going to cut off your breast. Maybe both of them. What do you say about that?"
"As you wish, Mistress."
Linda sucked in her breath. Was this woman going to slice off that breast? Linda didn't doubt for an instant that the knife she saw was capable of doing just that.
Helena let go of the breast and moved the end of the blade up to the rigid nipple. "May I cut off the nipple?" she asked.
"If you wish, Mistress."
Linda wanted to scream. This was madness.
Helena held the blade against the dark flesh of this slaves nipple for long, long seconds. Then she withdrew the knife and handed it back to Katrina.
"It is a slavegirl's duty to obey. Anything. Understand?"
Linda said nothing.
"And it is a Mistress' duty to make the slave understand her status. Donna was not acting. For all she knew I was going to cut off her breast. And she was serious in her answers."
Linda longed to tell this beautiful woman that she was crazy. And that she wanted out of this place right now. She had expected some rope bondage and some spankings, maybe a little whipping with a belt. But this was something entirely different!
For a long time Helena and Linda looked at each other. Finally Helena broke the silence. "Katrina, take Donna down to the dungeon and fix her up. Something nice and painful."
Katrina smiled wickedly and prodded the kneeling slavegirl with the toe of her expensive shoe. Donna got to her feet and walked back out the door she had come in.
"Do you believe that I could cut off her breast?" Helena asked. Linda didn't answer for a few seconds. Then she slowly nodded her head once.
"That's good because that's the right answer. A slave is totally the property of her owner. I own Donna. I will punish Donna as I see fit. I will torture her when I feel like it. I will whip her bottom and back until she's fainted from the pain... Whenever I wish it. I will make her perform any sexual act. I could even give her to a dozen men and let them screw the hell out of her all night. Two dozen men. And a homy donkey."
Was that humor? Or was she serious?
"Do you understand what a slavegirl is?"
Again the slow, single nod.
"And do you understand that you are going to become one?" Linda shook her head.
"You don't think so. But it will happen. Someday you will kneel before me and offer your breasts to be cut off." Helena smiled wickedly. "And perhaps I will."
Helena laughed at the consternation on Linda's face. Then she was gone, leaving a very frightened and very helpless girl behind on the chair.
Cursing herself for doing stupid things, Linda struggled wildly against the ropes. If she could just get free and run for it! She was certain she was in the hands of mad women, sadists and worse. But the ropes were tight and held her prisoner very well, indeed. She was still jerking and twisting when Helena came back in, holding a pair of handcuffs. She untied Linda's feet from her hands so the legs could swing out then she knelt before Linda and locked one pair on her ankles. Only after the ankles were firmly locked in steel did she untie the ropes that had held them captive.
The ropes around her body came loose and Linda was helped to her feet, her still bound arms sliding up and off the chair's back. Once fully standing, the girl with one breasts exposed lunged at her captor, trying to knock her head into Helena's, hoping for a knock out. But Helena fully expected some form of struggle and easily avoided the head butt. With one hand she firmly grasp a handful of Linda's long hair, jerking her head back. The other hand clamped on the exposed breast, the fingernails digging painfully in. With her ankles locked in steel, Linda never had a chance. She was easily controlled by the surprisingly strong black-haired woman, then forced to shuffle down the room to the door the incredibly submissive Donna had disappeared into. There was a stairs within, going down what seemed at least two stories before opening out into a long corridor with several doors on both sides. They turned into the second one.
It was a minute before Linda stopped fighting her captor long enough to become aware of what else was in the room. Then she found what Katrina had done with Donna. The naked slavegirl was strung out, suspended from two large rings fairly far apart in the ceiling. When she looked closer, she cringed for this slavegirl was suspended by her thumbs and big toes! Thin cord had been wrapped around her thumbs and again the big toes. Then cord from those went up to the rings in the ceiling and the unfortunately girl was hanging face down and stretched out almost horizontally. Since the rings were farther apart than her body by a couple feet in front and in back, they were able to hold her taunt with only a little sag in her body. The strain but have been terrible because the pain was evident in even the stoic Donna's face.
"Very nice. Katrina has such a nice imagination, doesn't she?" Helena sounded is if she were describing a painting instead of a torture being performed on a naked and helpless girl. "Sort of like hanging her up by her thumbs, a most painful punishment, I assure you, and hanging her up by her toes, also very painful. But I'm sure you'll get a chance to experience both before too long."
Linda wanted to scream. Instead she was walked around the suspended girl, forced to look at Donna's suffering from every angle. Then she was led from the room, down the hallway, and into another room where she found Katrina waiting for them.
The two women then manhandled the struggling Linda to the center of the room. A noose hung down from the ceiling and that was fitted over her head. When it was pulled upward, Linda found herself forced to stand still for fear of strangling herself. The two Hellfire Club members then proceeded to cut away all her clothing, tossing the tattered remains aside. When the newest slavegirl of the club was completely naked both girls stood back to get a good look. And it was a look worth getting.
"That she is. What a body! We've made a real catch today," added Helena.
The handcuffs came off, but both girls held her legs until rope could be wrapped around the ankles. When that was cinched down and tightly knotted, they took the noose off her neck. While Helena held her arms, Katrina untied the ropes from around her wrists and retied them with the wrists palm to palm. Then she added more rope around the elbows, crushing them painfully together. That rope dug into the flesh of her upper arm and hurt terribly. Linda quickly found that struggling against these new ropes was not only painful, it was also useless. The girls dumped her on a leather covered, padded table, face down. Then they bound her ankles up to her wrists in the classic hogtie. Once they had her tightly bound with escape impossible, they carried her to a small cage in the comer of the room, a cage made from stout iron bars and only a little bigger than the prisoner it was to hold. When the door slammed shut and a padlock clicked solidly, she found herself laying on her stomach in a box of bars only a few inches larger than she was in all directions.
That quickly Linda, a professional prostitute who had been a very stupid girl, was prepared for her first night as a slavegirl of the Hellfire Club.
The pain of the tight ropes was so great that she got no sleep that night and cried for the first two hours until the tears ran out.
CHAPTER FIVE - FIRST DAY OF PUNISHMENT
When the cage door was opened in the morning and Linda was lifted from the tiny prison, she was beyond crying and protest. Most of her body had gone numb from the tight ropes and bent up position she had endured for an entire night. Even when the ropes were untied and her limbs allowed to unfold, she could still not feel much in them, nor move them. She lay on the floor as the gag was unbuckled and the rubber wad pulled from her mouth, not caring about anything. The lack of sleep and constant pain for many long hours in the darkness had sapped her strength.
"Can you get up?" asked a voice from above her.
With an effort Linda turned her head to see who was speaking. It was a woman she had not seen before, a woman younger than herself, hardly looking more than eighteen, maybe seventeen. The girl had gorgeous long red hair and lively green eyes to go with a cute face with a turned up nose. She would have looked very pretty when she smiled but she was not smiling right now. She seemed genuinely concerned for Linda's condition. "No," Linda croaked. The gag had been most unkind and her jaw hurt to move. "I can't move," she added. "I think my arms are dead."
"That feeling will go away. In fact, about now you should be feeling returning circulation. Pins and needles some people call it. Might hurt a little. But you'll be able to move again."
"How the hell do you know?" Linda managed. "I think permanent damage has been done." She began to feel a tingling in her hands and along the arms.
"I know." The redhead smiled and did, indeed, have a very nice smile. "I've been tied like that all night. Not much fun in the morning, but you'll get over it."
The tingling in her hands had turned into the "pins and needles" the young girl had predicted. Linda's feet and lower legs began to tingle, too. Within a minute she was too wrapped up in the strange pain of returning circulation to talk. The redhead waited patiently by.
Finally Linda began to believe that her arms might be useful again. The pain was reducing and they were feeling more normal. She rolled over to a sitting position with difficulty.
"See? You'll be fine in no time. By the way, my name's Melody. You're Linda."
"Are you a member of this Hellfire Club?"
"Sure." She seemed happy about it, and a little proud. "I'm the youngest member."
"How many of you are there?"
"Five. I don't think that they'll let any more in. Some of the things we do are illegal."
"Illegal and painful," commented Linda dryly. Then she noted that her arms and legs were free. "Am I being let go now?" Hope flared within.
"No. Good heavens, no," Melody was quick to correct the naked girl sitting on the floor. "You are now a slave of the Hellfire Club. Sort of the property of the club," she explained. "You'll never be free."
Linda frowned. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, quite serious." Melody seemed to simply be stating the truth-at least as she knew it. "No slavegirl has ever been set free. Or escaped."
Her arms felt almost normal now and she thought that she could stand on her legs. Maybe now was the time to make a dash for the door. Shakily she got to her feet. She was a couple inches taller than the teenager and probably outweighed her by fifteen pounds. This was going to be an uneven match.
"Are you going to let me out of her or do I have to get rough with you?" she asked Melody, trying to sound as mean as she could.
Melody smiled. "Go ahead, you won't get out of the house."
Linda smiled back. "Try and stop me." Then she turned for the door and started to walk forward.
Suddenly Linda was laying on the floor, face down, wondering what went wrong. Melody was standing right behind her, still smiling. Getting to her feet, Linda launched herself at the smaller girl, intending to push her to the floor and give her a taste of this tight bondage stuff she had been forced to endure.
She was vaguely aware that Melody had taken her arm in both her hands and helped her with her forward dash. Then suddenly there was a wall impacting her with a crash.
Picking herself up off the floor, she again approached the teenager, this time more slowly. She was bigger and stronger than this girl and that should decide the fight rather quickly.
Linda swung her right hand in a round-house punch directed at the redhead's head. Melody blocked the curving arm at the forearm, then drove stiff fingers up into Linda's armpit. Suddenly Linda's arm went numb and hurt at the same time. She backed off, shaking her arm until she could move the fingers again.
The next attack was much more scientific. Linda picked up a small wooden stool and rushed at Melody, brandishing the stool over her head. Melody's foot was suddenly embedded in Linda's stomach and all the naked girl's air rushed out. As she lay on the floor gasping for breath she was vaguely aware that Melody had gathered her hands behind her back and locked handcuffs upon the wrists. Tightly locked them on.
"Daddy insisted that I take martial arts classes," Melody explained. "He thought that I should be able to defend myself, don't you know?"
Linda knew but didn't say anything.
Melody came around to the front of the sitting nude and locked another pair of handcuffs on her ankles. "I didn't have to let you have your arms and legs free long enough to attack me. I could have locked the handcuffs on while you couldn't move your arms or legs. But Helena said you should learn a lesson. She said that sooner or later you would try what you did, and the sooner you learned that it wouldn't work, the better. See what I mean?"
"Go to hell." But Linda didn't have much feeling behind the curse. She was tired and fuzzy-brained from lack of sleep and a very trying night. Maybe what this teenager girl said was right, maybe she was now property of the Hellfire Club. She shook off the idea. There would be another chance, one that was not set up by these weird people.
"Come on, get up. You get to visit a bathroom, have a bath, then good breakfast," Melody invited cheerfully.
Linda got to her feet, a little awkwardly because of the handcuffs on her wrists and ankles. "They're too tight on my ankles," she said. "They cut into my ankles."
"Yeah, a little bit." Melody was in agreement but made no move to loosen them. "You'll get used to tight handcuffs. Some of the girls really like handcuffs. I think if Karla had her way, you'd wear handcuffs all the time and nothing else. You'll see." Linda took an experimental step. It was uncomfortable but she could manage a shuffling sort of movement. She just hoped she wouldn't have to do this for any long distances.
The trip to the bathroom was welcome, as was the warm, bubbly bath that Melody granted her naked slavegirl. The handcuffs didn't come off for the bath and as Linda sat in the warm, scented water, she began to feel like a woman again. Melody soaped her down and rubbed her entire body since Linda's hands were locked behind her back. It seemed to the chained girl that this teenager took far more time and attention on her breasts and pubic area than need for the requirements of cleanliness. But it felt good after a whole night of painfully tight bondage.
"Is this the way of the Hellfire Club? Torture a girl one minute then treat her like a pampered pet the next?"
"Yeah. But it varies. Sometimes you'll get tortured for days on end. And sometimes the worst part will be the boredom. Have you ever spent a whole day locked in a cage with no one to talk to, no TV to watch, no books to read?" Linda admitted she had not. "Well, you'll find out what that is like, too." She paused to lather up a breast. "No one ever said being a slavegirl is easy."
"You don't think that you'll get away with this, do you?" Linda started out, taking the offensive again. "I have friends. They'll find that letter I left in my apartment. Along with a note telling where I was going. You'll all get caught, and then you'll get plenty of boring time in a cell."
"Not likely," said a voice from the doorway. It was Helena, smiling smugly. She waved a piece of paper that Linda recognized with a sinking heart was the letter that had been sent to her. "You left no note and we have retrieved everything of yours from your apartment. When the manager comes looking for you at next rent time, probably the end of the month two weeks from now, he'll find that apparently you've moved out with no forwarding address. He'll pocket your deposit and last month's rent and find another renter for the apartment. He won't be calling any police because there's no reason to."
"I have friends... " began Linda weakly.
"Like hell you do," said Helena firmly. "You have no friends. Some regular customers, but no friends. You don't make friends. And for family, your address book shows no entry that could be considered family. If you have any, they don't even know where you are. Right?"
Linda held her words back. This woman was, indeed, right. Linda had run away from her home a couple years before and not keep contact with parents or her sister. And she was a loner, no friends, no one who would come looking when she disappeared.
"We checked you out very carefully. You can easily disappear and no one will be the wiser." Helena was gloating over a plan so far going perfectly. "We can and did kidnap you and will continue to keep you our prisoner. Slavegirl, we call it. And you helped us! You walked right into our trap."
Linda wanted to curse herself for stupidity and worse. But she kept silent. Instead she tried another tact. "I have a couple of clients who will miss me. They visit me at my apartment once a week. They'll know I'm gone."
"None of your clients know where you live. You always ply your services at their places. You use a post office box to make contacts and you call them, not the other way around. We checked you out carefully." Helena was defiantly gloating now. "You are ours now, and always will be."
"Do you really think you can really keep me a prisoner forever?"
"Of course, darling. We've been doing it for years now. Do you think you're the first? Or even that Donna the first? We've had other slavegirls and will have others in the future. Get used to it, dear, you're a slavegirl now." With that the raven haired beauty turned and left.
Linda didn't know what to say. Any argument she could think of failed. Finally she asked Melody, simply to say something, "How many slavegirls does the club have?"
"Right now four. There's Donna who you met, and there's two girls who are at Rainbow's End. And you, of course."
Linda sighed. What the hell was she to do? "What do you want of me? Money? I don't have much."
Melody laughed. "Every woman in the Hellfire Club is wealthy. We don't need more money. We want naked, chained up slavegirls to play with. It's that simple, don't you see?"
From what Linda could see, this was a frightening idea. A group of woman who held other girls prisoner just so they could get their kicks torturing them? It seemed impossible but the handcuffs on her wrists and ankles were very real, as was the memory of a painful night in tight bondage. All too real.
"And you're a part of all this?"
"Of course. It's fun. I love tying up other girls. I enjoy watching the others playing with the slavegirls. I can even get into some of the heavier stuff, like torture, you know. It's really exciting."
"But you said you had spent all night tied like I was. Is that true?"
"Yes, it's true," Melody smiled. "Sometimes the others like to play with me a little bit. Well, a lot sometimes. But I like it. I guess you could say I'm a switch - I like to tie up other girls but sometimes I like to be tied up myself. Understand?"
"Not really." Linda was being helped out of the tub and being toweled down. "Why do you all do this? I mean, you're running a terrible risk of being caught and sent to jail."
"No as much risk as you think. And as to why, well, that's simple: we like it." Melody stopped toweling for a moment. "All of us have enough money to buy whatever we want. Rolls, diamonds, big houses, servants, jaunts to Paris and Monte Carlo; we have all that. But there is something more, something exciting to owning and playing with a naked slavegirl. You can let all those instincts inside you come out and have free rein. That's the way Katrina puts it. We can do things that most people have to keep hidden inside themselves. It's delicious to know I can hurt you a little bit or a whole lot, and in anyway I wish without fear or guilt."
"Delicious if you're the one doing the hurting," muttered Linda. Then, louder, "I just don't understand you people. You're all sick."
Melody tilted her head to one side and looked puzzled. "Then why did you answer our letter? Why did you meet with Katrina and come for our little show with Donna?"
Linda did not reply. She had been asking herself that same question and not coming up with any satisfactory answers. She had been intrigued by the letter and that photo, that was undeniable. But what did it mean? And why did it cause her, a normally very level-headed girl, to walk right into a trap. Hell, she had even sat quietly while they tied her to a chair!
"Well, there you are," continued Melody. "There's something in all of us. Some love owning and even hurting others, some are better suited for being owned and hurt. And then there's me," she smiled. "Those who go either way depending on our mood." Melody tossed the towel aside and turned her attention to fixing Linda's hair, and doing a very good job of it. "I don't pretend for one moment to understand it all," she said. "But I know that the feelings I get when I'm with the others and the most intense feelings in my whole life. When I see a whip lash another girl across her bare bottom, and see her jerks and cry out, it's very intense. Like I'm living life more fully than other people. Understand?"
Linda was not sure she did. "And what about the woman being whipped? Is she living life more intensely?"
"Well, I'm sure she is," replied Melody honestly. "But it doesn't really matter. She's only a slave. Slaves exist for the pleasure of their mistresses."
Linda couldn't reply to that. It was a correct statement in a logical sense but it's implications twisted Linda's emotions into knots. She might feel different if she were on the other side of the whip but in this scenario she was the slavegirl!
When she was finished with the drying process, Melody took Linda to a dinning small room where she was fed breakfast. Most of it she had to eat with just her mouth as her hands were still locked behind her back, but Melody helped her where needed. As she ate, Linda couldn't help but to constantly be casting glances towards the only other piece of equipment in the small room. It was a pillory, made of solid looking oak, the square post arising from a wooden platform and spreading out at top to form a horizontal yoke with places for head and hands. She wondered if that archaic punishment device was going to be used on her.
It was.
Melody cheerfully led the naked girl over to the wooden device, took the lock out of the hasp, lifted the top part of the yoke until it stood by itself tilted to one side, and then unlocked Linda's hands. "Best not try to flee or fight," she admonished. "I can stop you. Besides, your feet are locked together, remember?" Linda hadn't forgotten and, although the urge to fight now that her hands were freed was strong, she forced herself to meekly place those wrists where Melody indicated within the half circles awaiting them. Then she had to bend her head down to fit her neck into the larger center half circle. Melody arranged her hair so it fell down around her face and wouldn't get caught when the top section of the yoke came down. Melody lowered it and carefully checked the fit. It was snug on both the wrists and neck, almost as if custom made.
The hasp closing and the padlock clicking shut were sounds Linda didn't like to hear. The wood holding her was very solid feeling and she didn't like that, either.
"You'll find it's not too bad at first," commented Melody cheerfully. "But it gets worse. Have fun!"
As the teenager girl was leaving, Linda called out to stop her, "Wait! I'm bent over half way. My back will be hurting if you leave me here very long. Is this suppose to be at this height?" Melody smiled back. "Sure it is. You're not suppose to be comfortable. Are you?"
"But... How long are you going to leave me here?" Linda felt she had to ask the question even though she feared the answer. It was worse than she had feared.
But Linda was talking to an empty doorway. At least the overhead light had been left on which made it better than the total darkness she had endured the night before. She tired to pull her hands from the hold of the oak but failed. She did not try to pull her head back, she knew it would not go. With a sigh she shifted her weight from one bare foot to another. All day? Linda had never been secured in such an apparatus before but she had a pretty good idea that the strain on her back muscles would grow pretty bad. Plus just having to stand up all day wasn't very pleasant, either. She looked at her hand sticking out from the wood and wiggled her fingers. That was all she could do. She could not see the rest of her body because of the size of the wooden yoke, although she suspected she might be able to shuffle her feet forwards enough to see her toes. But what good would that do?
If her ankles hadn't been handcuffed together, she might have tied to kick the pillory or use a foot for leverage. But that was denied her and she was pretty sure it wouldn't work anyway. She sighed again and settled down for a long day.
One of the things Linda found out about the pillory was that it was possible to get a little sleep while standing in one. First one had to be very tired-she was from a night in painfully tight bondage and that cage. Then one had to settle for short naps. But some rest was possible. She sincerely wished she could sleep the entire day away but that was not to be.
And she had been right about the long term effects of the pillory. Her back began aching and she could find no position of her feet that gave easement. For a while, shortly after she had been imprisoned, her nose itched and all she could do was waggle fingers inches away. Torture comes in many forms.
It was late in the day when Linda was to receive her first visitor, and then it was not Melody but rather another girl not much older than Melody and of obvious Mexican descent. She was dressed in a French maid's uniform which showed off her legs well but would have looked more appropriate on a French girl. She had come for Linda, which was obvious since she had the key to the padlock of her pillory.
"I am Melinda. When I unlock this wood please do not fight me, yes? It would not be good for you to do that." She then inserted the key into the lock and clicked it open without waiting for Linda's reply. It must have been assumed that Linda would agree not to fight. As the wooden yoke came up and swung away, Linda slowly lifted her head from the half circle which had held it. Her neck was very stiff and her back hurt to straighten up but it was good to be able to move after all that standing in one place. For a few seconds Linda considered her position: she had free arms and this Mexican girl had no visible weapon. She wasn't any bigger than Linda, perhaps an escape attempt would work now this time.
Not to try would be criminal, Linda told herself and lunged for Melinda. But she had forgotten her ankles were still locked in handcuffs and the lunge was suddenly brought up short. Linda felt herself falling forward as the girl in the maid's outfit simply stepped aside. Linda put her arms out to break her fall and found herself on all fours on the hard floor. Melinda swatted her bare bottom with a surprisingly strong hand. "Not good for you to do that, Miss." Then she reached down and grabbed a handful of Linda's hair. Using the hair for leverage, she forced the naked girl to her feet. From her position behind Linda, it was easy for her to control the naked girl. She clicked a handcuff around one wrist with a snap, then let go the hair to grab the free arm and bring it over to where the other cuff could close about the wrist. In a few seconds Linda was again helpless with arms handcuffed behind her and ankles separated by only a few inches.
Linda was led by the servant Melinda to where she was to have her dinner, a dinner eaten with her hands remaining handcuffed behind her back and with help from the Mexican servant. After that she was led to another room in the basement area she was coming to think of as the "dungeon." There she was placed face down on a leather padded table then the handcuffs taken off her ankles. Melinda replaced those steel restraints with new ones of rope, binding her legs together at the ankles, then above and below the knees, wrapping each part tightly and cinching down all the ropes before adding several tight knots. When her legs were well bound together, the servant used another rope to tie her ankles down to the table. There were rings every few inches around the table just below the edge. That gave many anchor points for binding a girl down. Melinda apparently had done this procedure many times for she did not hesitate in her work and not only expertly bound the naked girl, she also keep Linda from having enough freedom to mount an attack. With her hands still handcuffed behind her back, Melinda tied a loop of rope around her neck and to the edge of the table. When the handcuffs were removed from her wrists, Linda was still very much a prisoner. She could have lashed out with her fists but from a position of laying on her stomach she could hit little and without force. She struggled but it was easy for Melinda to gather her arms together and bind them with more rope.
"No, please not like that!" Linda protested as she felt the loop go around her elbows. "It hurts so much to have my elbows tied together. Please don't."
Melinda said nothing but pulled the rope to make the elbows come together. More windings and a few cinches and Linda's elbows were welded together.
"What are you doing with me?" ask Linda, choking back the urge to protest the tightness of the ropes.
"I get you ready for the night," was the reply. "Orders say you are to be tied tightly."
"Not all night like this! Please, Melinda, tie me a little looser. Or some different way. I'll be in pain all night."
"Is possible. I have my orders."
The noose was taken from around her neck and her ankles untied from the table. The servant then helped Linda off the table and to her feet. Leaving her to balance herself, Melinda left the room but returned a few seconds later, pushing a wheelchair.
"Very good for taking someone someplace who is all tied up," she commented with a grin. Then she helped Linda to sit down in the chair.
The trip wasn't too long, just down the hallway to another of the doors. This was a new room to Linda and she immediately noted that there was another girl already there, another girl who was naked and bound up also. It was Donna, the girl who had presented her breasts to be cut off the night before-Donna, the perfect slavegirl.
The wheelchair stopped in the middle of the room where Melinda helped the naked and bound girl to her feet again. With ankles tightly bound, it was not easy for Linda to hold her balance and to fall down would have been worse. The Mexican servant returned with another length of rope in her hands. She pressed a button and a metal ring descended from the ceiling to stop just above Linda's head. Then she tied one end of the rope around that rope already binding her elbows. Then up to the ring, back and up again. When she tied the final knot, she returned to the buttons to make the hoist rise until the rope holding the elbows was taunt. Apparently that rope was simply to keep her standing without falling. Then she left the room.
Linda looked around but she and Donna were alone. For a while she waited to see if Donna would speak but the other slavegirl was silent. Linda examined the ropes on Donna and was disappointed to find that this other girl was bound far more comfortably than she was. Donna's wrists were crossed and bound behind her back. She had a metal collar around her neck, some silvery metal, only a couple inches wide and with two small rings, one in front and one in back. From one of those rings a short length of chain and a couple small padlocks joined her neck with a larger ring set into the wall. All in all, a much more comfortable way to be bound up.
"Am I suppose to spend the night like this?" Linda broke the silence. "Am I suppose to stand here all night?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe? What the hell else can they do to me? I'm all tied up and my elbows are hurting already. I can't lay down or sit. I'll have to stand all night. And I didn't get much sleep last night, either." Linda waited but nothing was forthcoming from the girl by the wall. Donna just stood there, looking at Linda but without much interest.
"Have you ever spent an entire night hogtied in a small cage with your elbows screaming at you all the time?" she asked rather pointedly.
"Many times."
The simply statement stopped Linda cold. She had to admit to herself that perhaps this other girl had, indeed, endured much worse than she had. After all they had Donna much longer than Linda and probably plenty of time to "train" her to be a good slavegirl. She shuddered as she wondered how many nights Donna had spent in a tight hogtie. Or perhaps worse.
"Last night they left me in total darkness. Will the light stay on tonight?" She tried again to get a conversation going with this girl who showed almost no spirit.
"Probably means that they will do something more to you. Normally slavegirls sleep in darkness."
"Well, got two whole sentences out of you that time. What else might they do? I mean, I'm pretty well tied up and helpless like I am."
Apparently having to think brought Donna out of her silent mood. "There are a lot of things they could do. Clothespins on the nipples. Alligator clips clamped on the nipples. A whipping before they turn off the light and leave us. You could be gagged. They could gag you, blindfold you, and put a discipline hood over your head. They could... "
"Whoa! Alright, I get the idea." Linda sucked in her breath. "What's a discipline hood?"
Donna described the supple leather hood that fitted over the entire head with only a small hole for the nose to stick out to make breathing possible. She told how tightly the laces in the back could be pulled so that the leather encases the head tightly all over. And about the thicker leather collar built into the base that could be padlocked so that the wearer couldn't take it off even if she had her hands free.
"And this is called a discipline hood?" Linda commented. "Sounds pretty uncomfortable but why do you make it sound horrible."
"After you've worn one for a few hours you'll understand. To have to wear one all night is indeed horrible. It gets very hot inside. The head sweats. You cannot see. You cannot talk. Even hearing is reduced, especially if they plug your ears with cotton or something. After a time you want to scream and claw at it. But they always fix it so that your hands are bound." She paused to look directly into Linda's eyes. "One time I wore a discipline hood and had my hands tied behind my back for a full twenty- four hours." She paused a beat. "I was very grateful when they took it off."
Linda didn't know what to say. There was apparently a lot to learn about ways a slavegirl could be punished. And she suspected there were a lot more she hadn't heard of yet.
"Donna, if we get the chance, would you like to escape? Maybe we could help each other get out of here."
"A slavegirl does not try to escape. Punishment will be swift and very, very painful." She sounded like she was reciting a memorized ritual.
"Have you tried?"
"Once. Twice. Long ago. When they first had me. After the first time was when I wore the discipline hood for a full day. After the second time I couldn't sit down for several days."
"Couldn't sit down?"
"My bottom was lashed and completely covered with very painful welts and marks. It was very sore for days."
"They whipped you?" Linda was shocked yet again. So far she had been exposed only to tight bondage and the pillory as punishment. But a whipping? "Did they use a real whip?"
"Yes. They have a single thong black whip for serious offenses. For lesser punishments they use riding crops. Or when they're just playing around."
"They whip you just for fun?"
"Of course. A slavegirl exists only to give pleasure to her mistress. If it gives my mistress pleasure to whip me, then I am happy."
Linda tugged and fought the ropes for long enough to convince her that they were not to be cast off by her efforts alone. She suddenly wanted out of there very badly. This was crazy! A place where some crazy, kinky women keep girls prisoner and tortured them for fun! Linda wanted to cry with frustration.
After a while she calmed down and had to accept that she was helpless in those ropes. Logically she knew it, but emotionally she still wanted to fight them, anything to get free of their tight hold.
"Why am I tied so tightly and you're tied so easily?" she finally asked.
"You're new. A new slave is always treated harshly for the first few weeks. It makes her understand what she is and just how much pain can be administered to her. You will be punished every day. Just to teach you."
"And if I don't want to learn?"
"You have no choice. You will come to understand. You will become a good slavegirl."
Don't count on it, thought Linda. I'm getting out of here someday. But she didn't voice those thoughts. Instead she asked, "How did they get their hands on you?"
"She thought she was trying out for a part in a movie," came a voice from the doorway. "By the time she realized different, she was completely tied up and has been keep in restraints every since."
Linda turned to find Helena standing in the doorway. She held a very wicked looking black whip in her hands.
CHAPTER SIX - A SECOND NIGHT OF TORTURE
Helena came forward, swinging the whip as she did, a smile upon her beautiful but wicked face, and the sound of click-clack from the stiletto heels. She walked around the naked and bound prisoner, noting the usual good job performed with the ropes and the way those proud, young breasts stuck straight out.
"She," Helena said, pointing the whip at Donna who stood there with eyes averted to the floor, "was a fool. Just like you were a fool. She wanted to become an actress so bad that she was easily talked into coming here and trying out for a part in a movie about the crusades. She was to be a Christian girl captured by the Moors. The scene she was to play required that she be bound up. Isn't that right, Donna?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"I even told her that the European version of the film required full nudity and she was out of her clothes in a wink. Isn't that right, Donna?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Her arms were bound behind her, her legs tied together, and a gag in her mouth before she realized that it would be hard for her to read her lines so bound and gagged. Isn't that so, slave?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"And what brought you into our trap?" asked Helena, teasing Linda's rigid nipples with the end of the whip. "What made you go away from a bar with a strange woman you'd never met before, go to a strange house you've never seen, and let two women bind you to a chair and gag you?"
Linda did not answer.
"You were attracted to the girl in the photo, weren't you? You imagined yourself in her place: naked, tightly bound, helpless, unable to free herself. You wanted that."
"I was just checking out a job. To make money." Linda knew there wasn't the conviction in her voice that there ought to be.
"It was just for the money, was it? Tell me, slavegirl, did you feel a tingle of excitement when you realized that you were completely helpless? Did your breathing quicken a bit? And another thrill when the naked Donna came in. Tell me, was there more than a hint of excitement when I held the blade to Donna's breast, so very close to cutting it off, and with Donna's full permission?"
Linda did not answer.
"You know the answer as well as I. You're a natural submissive. You will be comfortable only when you're in restraints and totally controlled by another person who understands you completely and knows how to make you a slavegirl."
"You're crazy!"
"Am I? You're the one who came to watch a demonstration knowing full well that you would be totally bound up and helpless. You came because part of you had to. Don't tell me you came for money. No money was offered. Only a chance to be bound up and watch another girl bound and punished."
Protests leapt to Linda's lips but some part deep inside her held them back. Perhaps there was too much truth in the words now being thrown in her face. Linda lowered her head for she could no longer lock eyes with this very beautiful and oh so dominant woman.
Suddenly a burst of fire exploded in the flesh of her bottom. Her jerked instinctively, cried out, and would have fallen had not the rope to her elbows held her up.
Helena walked around to the front of the surprised naked girl. "A little taste, and not very hard at that." Standing slightly to one side, she measured the distance between her and those two lovely breasts with an outstretched whip. As Linda watched, frozen in horror, she draw back her arm and let fly a slash directly across both breasts.
The pain was terrible. Linda would never have believed such pain possible. She tried to scream but the shock was too great and the scream stuck in her throat. When she could again breath she panted rapidly and whined. Her eyes were closed and she danced on her toes with hands clenching into fists then unfolding into claws grabbing at air.
"Oh, my god! That was horrible! Please, no more! Oh, my breasts are on fire! You've hurt me."
Helena waited until the protests and shaking subsided. Then she teased one nipple with the whip. "You see? I can give you more pain than you ever thought possible. That was only a taste.
"Please, no more! I can't take it. It's terrible."
"Shut up! Slavegirls don't talk that way to their Mistresses." Linda clamped her mouth shut with an effort.
"Do you realize that I could go on whipping your body all night? That I could easily slash all the flesh from you, inch by inch? And do you have any idea how much pain that would be?" Linda was in a mood to say anything so long as it promised to stop more pain from coming. "Yes, Mistress," she uttered.
"Better," commented Helena. "But right now it's because you wish to stop the pain. Someday it will be because you will love me and want me to be your Mistress."
Throughout all this Donna had not said a word, she only stood there with eyes cast down.
"Tonight there will be no more whipping," offered Helena grandly. "But there will be another lesson in punishment. I do so love to punish my little slavegirls. Wait here, I've something to get." Then Helena was gone.
Linda wanted to talk to Donna, to hear a friendly voice but she did not know what to say. The terrible thought race around her mind that someday she would be like Donna, broken in spirit and totally submissive. It frightened her more than the thought of another whip slash.
When Helena returned, Melinda was with her. The servant girl placed several huge rolls of silver colored tape on the floor, along with a bottle of reddish powder. Helena picked up one of the rolls of tape and showed it to Linda. "It's called 'ducking tape'. It's four inches wide, very sticky and very, very strong." She peeled back a little of the end. "I begin by wrapping it around your body." She placed the end on Linda's chest next to her shoulder. Then she walked around, unwinding and wrapping the tape as she went. When she had two turns of tape on Linda she stopped. "But the tape is not all," she said with a smile that Linda did not like at all. "Before I add any more tape, we sprinkle some of this itching powder on the tape. Notice how it sticks?"
Melinda sprinkled a little powder on the tape as Helena held it. She then began another wrapping just below the first. The servant stayed a little ahead of where the tape was tightly winding so that a thin coating of that red powder was applied under the tape. That continued until the first roll of tape was done and Linda was wrapped from her shoulders down to just below her nipples. The tape had been wrapped extra tight when over her breasts with the results of them being crushed flat.
The second roll of tape started up where the last left off and lasted until the middle of her hips. The third roll went down to just above the knees. And the fourth covered down to the tops of her feet. When they were finished there wasn't a square inch of bare skin showing between her shoulders and feet. The tape included every part of her arms, even the fingers.
"Now you're ready for the night. Try and get free," teased Helena.
Linda shook her shoulders. "You know I can't," she said. "Please don't leave me like this all night."
"The discomfort of the ropes and tape will grow during the night, but nothing like the discomfort you'll feel from that powder. It makes the skin itch and bum. It doesn't wear off. And it grows worse with each passing hour. A beautiful torture, don't you think?"
"Go to hell."
"My, my! Some day you'll have to learn that slavegirls don't talk like that to their Mistresses. And that day will be tomorrow. Tomorrow you'll ride the horse all day."
Linda had no idea what Helena was talking about but didn't like the sound in her voice nor the way she was smiling.
"I'd slash you a few more times with the whip right now but the tape protects everything worth hitting. "We'll see if you're so feisty in the morning." With that Helena tucked the whip into her belt, and withdrew a small key. She unlocked the chain holding Donna to the wall. As she led the slavegirl out, she said, "Little slavegirl is going to share Mistress' bed tonight. Does little slavegirl like that?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Hey, wait! Don't leave me like this!" Linda called to a departing back. But her protests were ignored. There was a click and the light disappeared. A second later the door closed and Linda was alone and in total darkness.
For a while she fought the ropes and tape but quickly realized that she was even more helpless now than she had been before. The thought occurred to her that the tape alone would have been enough to keep her prisoner. She sighed, then told herself that at least she was better off than the previous night. At least her elbows didn't hurt as much standing up as they had in the hogtie. The tape was uncomfortable but not terrible. And she could maybe get some sleep. The rope from her elbows would prevent her from falling over. She was so tired that she actually looked forward to sleeping in this standing up bondage.
It wasn't until half an hour passed that she realized one of the tortures of the tape was that it didn't allow the body to get rid of heat. It held the heat in and made the skin sweat. And that activated the itching powder. At first Linda had thought that something was wrong with Helena prediction. There had been no itching, no burning feeling. But as her body heated up and sweated she could feel tiny itching sensations all over her body.
"I have a bad feeling about this," she said to the dark room.
And she should have, for the itching grew. And grew, and grew. Soon she felt as if all her skin was crawling. Almost every square inch of skin was burning and itching terribly. Not as much bum as the whip had given to her breasts and bottom, but enough so that she could not ignore it. Her breasts especially itched and she longed very much to touch them. But the only place she could touch were the tiny area of her bottom where her fingernails rested under their layer of tape. With an effort she could scratch a couple square inches of skin. But that only seemed to make everyplace else itch all the more.
Itching is terrible. It is not pain. But it is annoying. One itch, if left unscratched, can annoy a girl. A thousand itches all over her body can drive her crazy. She quickly discovered why she was left standing in the middle of the room: that way she could not rub her taped body against anything, anywhere. She would have loved to rub against the wall, even to roll around on the ground. But she had to stand there, held by the rope firmly knotted to her elbows, coming out from under the tape, and going up to the ceiling.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Linda began screaming. She hurled curses into the darkness. She called down upon Helena's head a thousand plagues. She begged every and all deities to come to her aid and free her from this torture. But most of the time she just screamed out in frustration and agony.
Perhaps the walls and door were soundproofed. No one came.
"Let me go!" she cried aloud. "Please, oh, please! It's terrible! Let me go!"
She begged and pleaded and promised everything she could think of. No one heard her wails of despair. No one came to offer comfort. At times she danced around in the darkness, feet completely off the floor, in wild panic, legs lashing out but touching nothing. But that only made her sweat more and the itching grow worse.
By morning she was limp in her bonds. Her voice was horse from screaming. Her body was twitching in uncontrollable spasms. She had not slept. And, most important, she was beginning to realize that any girl can be broken.
Melinda removed the tape by taking one end and walking around the unfortunate girl, ripping it from her skin as she went. With a voice she thought not capable of any more cries, Linda moaned as the tape tried to rip her skin off with it. It was especially bad on her breasts where the skin is very sensitive anyway, and in the front of her hips where the tape took some of her pubic hair with it.
But cool air against her burning and itching skin was a great relief. And when the rope was untied from her elbows and she was allowed to sink to the floor, she was ready to cry with relief.
Her legs were freed and she could look down to see the deep red marks where the ropes had dug into her flesh. She was not surprised to see that the flesh of her breasts was reddish, both from the irritation and the last bits of the powder that had tortured her all night. With a hand on her arms, Melinda marched Linda from the room and gave her a shower.
The shower was unexpected but most welcome. The Mexican servant girl simply took off her clothes and joined the slavegirl in the hot water. She soaped and washed all parts of her captive girl. At first her tender skin hurt from the rubbing of the washcloth but as the powder and sweat was removed, Linda began to feel better. Near the end, she even asked, "Could I have my arms untied? My elbows hurt so much." She was very polite in her request.
"Elbows stay tied until after breakfast. Orders."
Linda sighed but did not protest. Orders, she was sure, were orders, and she instinctively knew that there was no way she could talk the pretty Mexican girl out of following them exactly. She allowed herself to be fed breakfast which helped her disposition a great deal. After breakfast she was led back to the room where she spent the first night. Handcuffs were locked upon her ankles and her wrists, then the ropes were taken from her arms. At first she couldn't use her arms at all and didn't try. Her hands and forearms were pins and needling, a special form of torture all it's own.
When she was ordered into the small barred cage and pushed down until the top could be shut over her and locked, she didn't protest. She just curled up on her side within the tiny enclosure and went to sleep almost instantly.
Linda slept most of the day in a deep, dreamless sleep and her body recovered from the harsh treatment it had received over the last two days. She awoke to find herself still in the iron-barred cage, her wrists and ankles still bound with handcuffs, and not knowing what time of day or night it was. The room she was a prisoner in had no windows, and the lights had been turned off. In the dark she tested the steel shackles that held her wrists but there was no way she could slip them over her hands, the handcuffs had been clicked until the metal was firmly indented in her flesh. And she was sure she couldn't possibly break the steel grip. Still on her side, she arched her body until her hands could reach her feet. She had to bend her legs back as far as they would go and she felt her breasts pressed against iron bars. But her fingers could explore the steel around her ankles. They tested for any weakness and found none. The steel around her ankles was just as solid and as tight about her flesh as that around her wrists.
With a sigh she told herself that things could certainly be worse. Her elbows were not tied together, she was not hogtied, and she was certainly not encased in tight tape with itching powder. Lordy, what a torture that had been! Linda remembered the terrible itching all over her body with a shudder. A few hours might have been bearable by most girls but all night had been a nightmare. There were times when she had screamed into the darkness. And she had cried out her frustration and anger until the tears no longer flowed.
For some women that ordeal would have broken them. In Linda it engendered a quiet resolve to gain revenge against those who had tortured her. It was not a burning, raging anger but a deep, sincere resolve hidden within her mind. They could torture her body, she told herself. And they might break her spirit. But someday, she vowed silently, someday she would have vengeance.
Later she was taken out of the cage, allowed a good meal and a walk in the gardens behind the house, her arms remained handcuffed behind her back but her ankles were changed from handcuffs to leg irons, much the same but with a longer length of chain that swirled and clinked and took some getting used to walking with. There was also added a gag, although she could not figure out why. The gardens were very lush and green and blocked off all views in all directions. The sun had just set and it was that quiet time of the evening when the day life rested and the night creatures came out. The sky was a lovely montage of reds and pinks. Having a good meal and a chance to walk around outside made Linda feel better than she had felt since she fell into their trap. It was a little strange to be walking around out of doors completely naked but it was nice.
After the walk, escorted by Melinda, she was returned to her cage. But before the lid was locked on, the gag and leg irons were removed. That night Linda slept with only a pair of handcuffs holding her wrists behind her back. It was much better that way.
In the morning, Melody and Melinda came for her. She was allowed a bath and a breakfast, both of which were appreciated. Then she was taken back to the room where her cage was. Her ankles were locked in handcuffs before the handcuffs were removed from her wrists. She thought about escape but with her ankles locked together and two healthy, young and strong girls as guards, she knew there was no chance of escape. Her arms were bound behind her back, wrists palm to palm and elbows together. Linda didn't bother telling her captors that the elbows hurt when tied like that.
Linda was taken into a room that held three devices. The first was a chair made of very solid looking oak and bolted to the floor. In the seat of the chair was fixed a metal shaft in the shape of a male penis, a rather large one. It was easily more than seven inches long and fairly wide. Linda didn't like the looks of that device.
The second device was another replica of the male penis, this one of rubber and even larger. It was attached to the top of a pole less than three feet tall. The pole seemed to be adjustable and Linda shuddered at the thought of her having to straddle that thing then have it move up into her pussy.
The third device she didn't understand at first. It was a length of wood attached firmly to one wall and coming out about five feet. The other end was attached to a steel post. The wood itself was triangular in shape, perhaps four inches across at the bottom, the thick part of the triangle, and tapering to a sharp point. Suddenly Linda knew what that wooden beam was and she instantly stopped. "No, no! You can't do that! It would be terrible!" she protested.
The connection in her mind had been simple. She was suppose to "ride the Horse" and the two dildos she had seem were large but hardly large enough to be called a "horse." And that wooden beam could be "ridden", but only at the expense of considerable pain to the naked girl who had to sit upon it.
Linda fought but was no match for the two girls holding her. Perhaps, if she had her arms, she might have put up a better battle but she did not and they managed to drag her to the Horse with little difficulty, mostly because they simply picked her up. With Melinda holding her, Melody placed two boxes below the Horse and slightly to either side. Then they picked up the struggling girl and placed her over the wooden beam, standing on the boxes. Her naked sex was only a couple inches above the sharp edge of hard wood. They attached rope loops around each ankle and ran them to metal rings in opposite walls. It wasn't hard for Linda to figure what was going to happen next.
"Please, this will hurt terribly! Don't do it." Along with her protests, she tired to struggle but without arms it was hard. "No! I beg of you! It will be terrible!"
"You are ever so right," replied Melody sweetly. "The Horse does hurt very much. But you have no choice. When we pull these ropes, you will have to sit on the Horse." Melody demonstrated with a small tug. "I would suggest that you sit down before that. It will be a lot easier on your pussy if you sit down rather than fall onto the wood." Melody was smiling as if enjoying this game with helpless prisoner.
Linda was breathing hard. Her mind raced, trying to find some argument, some logic, that might save her. There was none. "It will do damage to me," she tried. "My sex will be damaged. It will never be good for anything again."
"It will only feel like that," said Melody.
"How do you know?"
"I've ridden the Horse," Melody said. "It was horrible every time. But at least I understand what it is like. The others have never ridden it and don't know how terrible it is."
"Then how can you do this to another girl?" asked Linda.
"Easy! I like to do it. I will come and visit you to see the agony in your eyes. I will be all tingling inside and homy as hell all the time you're up there. I may have to ask Melinda to tie me up so that I don't do something stupid." She was eying the large dildos attached to the chair and pole. "It's fun to make a girl ride the Horse."
Another tug on the rope reminded Linda that she was suppose to be sitting down. And the prospect of falling, even a few inches, upon that sharp wooden edge was frightening. She lowered herself until the edge was touching her sex.
"More than that," said Melody. "Go ahead and sit on it. You'll have to in a few seconds anyway."
The logic was right. But the emotions said don't do it. Linda forced herself down until the edge was pressing hard against the entrance of her sex. She wiggled a little this way and that, trying to find the most comfortable position. There was none. With a sigh, she bend her knees some more and felt the wood cutting into her soft flesh. "I can't do it... " she started to say but was cut off by her ankles being jerked away from the support of the boxes. "OH!" she cried out as her weight drove the wooden edge into her. "Oh, that hurts! Please! Oh, please!"
Melody finished tying off her rope and walked over to the naked girl whose legs were spread wide at an angle that would have been very uncomfortable by itself. As Melody attached another rope to the bondage around Linda's wrists, she offered advise.
"Don't try to fight the Horse. If you try to move your hips, the wood will only dig in deeper. If you jerk back and forth or sideways, it will only make your pussy hurt more." She passed the rope up to Melinda who had brought a step ladder over. She passed the rope through a ring in the ceiling and back to Melody. "And go ahead and scream when the pain gets too much. It will help." She passed the rope around the wrists again and pulled. Linda's arms went up behind her, forcing her to lean forward. "Stop it, that's worse!"
"Of course it is. That's why I'm pulling your arms up. Puts more of your weight directly upon your pussy."
"But it hurts more! Please, Melody, I'll do anything if you'll take me off this thing. Please!"
"No can do. You'll get used to it. Of course, it does get worse. After a few hours your pussy gets sort of numb. But it still aches. You'll be in considerable agony before you get to come down from the Horse."
"How long... How long do I have to sit up here?" Linda was afraid of the answer.
"I won't tell you. But it won't be an hour. Or two. You'll get to really know what the Horse can do to a woman. Bye for now. I'll come back and visit you."
Suddenly Linda was alone in the room. "Wait!" she screamed but the door was closed. "Oh, please wait," she moaned.
It was a long, long time before Melody came to visit. Linda endured because she had to. The ropes on her arms and ankles were tight and impossible to free herself from. She shook her arms in anger and frustration but stopped. Melody had been right, movement only made the wood hurt her pussy more. Most of the time she seriously doubted Melody's claim that no permanent damage would be done. She was sure that the wooden edge was both cutting her flesh and crushing it.
At one point in the morning, her mind entered a strange state where she logically examined the device she was on from a point of view of effectiveness, as if she were an engineer examining a new type of car. And she had to admit that this was a very effective device for punishing a girl. Very effective. She spent part of her time imagining Helena and Katrina, and even Melody, riding this Horse, suffering as she was suffering. She fantasized about tying Helena like this and leaving her here a whole day. No, two days. No, a week. Hell, she would leave that bitch up here forever.
Melody came alone and was rather quiet for her. She walked around Linda, examining the ropes but found no need for adjustment, they were all still tight and secure.
"Melody, I'm in agony," Linda said simply.
"I know," was the reply, almost in a whisper. "I know. The pain never ceases. The ache grows and grows. You wonder if you're being injured forever." Melody's breathing grew heavier. "You think you're going to die. Sometimes you scream. Have you screamed yet?"
"No."
Melody ran her hand lightly long the taunt muscles of Linda's leg. Her other hand slipped into the waistband of her pants. As her fingertips traced the outline of one perfect breast, her other fingertips teased her own sex. She touched the punished girl lightly, lovingly, in curves and the soft places of the female body. She slowly, ever so slowly, teased the rigid nipples until Linda moaned.
The bound girl had been surprised to look down and find her nipples erect. And the touches of this teenage girl were doing strange things to her body. She found herself wishing that those light caresses would do more, touch her in ways that were so delightful. Then she shook her head in wonderment that she could be homy while in so much suffering. But she did want this girl to touch her, to play with her body. "Melody... Please... Suck my nipple." Linda was as surprised at the request as the teenager.
But, with an innocent and wicked smile. Melody left the breasts and teased the inside of Linda's thighs with fingernails. Linda moaned again.
"Why?" Linda asked between moans.
"Why are you excited? It's because you're living life intensely right now." Melody sounded much mature than her years. "It's because there is a connection between pleasure and pain, there always has been. It is both a curse and benefit of being a woman."
"But I can't orgasm while my sex is being crushed... Can I?"
"You'd be surprised what the body can do. Do you feel helpless?"
"More helpless than I've ever been in my life."
"Would you like me to suck on that nipple?" Melody accented her question with a finger tracing circles around the rigid nipple in question.
"Oh, yes! It would be wonderful."
"Then... " Melody paused dramatically. "Then I won't do it."
She turned and walked from the room. Behind the closing door Linda moaned.
It was a very long day. Linda alternated between crying and screaming. In between she moaned and whined with the constantly growing ache. With no windows, Linda could not tell the time. Minutes crept like hours and it was an eternity before Melody again entered the room. This time Melinda was with her.
"Comfy?" the teenager asked. Linda declined to reply to that one. "Well, I can see by your eyes that you have discovered the agony of riding the Horse. Horrible, isn't it?"
"The worse than I could ever imagine. Please let me down."
"I have not come to let you down." Melody tickled one erect nipple. "Still horny, I see." Linda didn't answer but she noted the bright eyes on this teenager and the way the tip of her tongue slid along her lips as she inspected the bound and helpless and tormented body before her. Finally, she closed her eyes and whined in a high pitched, almost inaudible voice. Her head darted forward and her lips captured the defenseless nipple.
It was Linda's turn to moan. This girl's tongue circled the nipple, played with it, teased it, and sent electric shocks into Linda's breast. The teeth nibbled gently upon the hard flesh and Linda gasped with ecstasy. When Melody sucked, Linda shivered all over with pure ecstasy.
It was surprising how fast Linda's captive body worked itself up to a high state of sexual excitement. Or perhaps it had been nearly there already, but whatever the reason, Linda was soon experiencing a fire in her loins that mingled with the pain until she could not separate them.
Suddenly Melody's lips and mouth were gone. Linda struggled to open her eyes. The teenage girl was throwing off her clothes with an urgency obvious to all present. As soon as she was naked, she turned her back to Melinda and put her hands together, palms to palms. Melinda, who was waiting with rope in her hands, quickly and expertly looped the slender wrists and tightened down the rope. Half a dozen quick loops around the wrists, then the cinch ropes to hold those down. Then the rope went up to the elbows where she looped it around one arm above the elbows. Then she pulled the elbows together and looped the rope around them as she held the arms together. Melody moaned and was breathing heavily. Linda even noted that the teenager girl had her eyes closed. And that she had a very beautiful body.
The Mexican servant girl knotted the ropes at the elbows. Linda knew how tight that arms were bound, hers were still tied the same way and had been for a very long time. Melinda then led the teenage girl to the chair bolted to the floor. She positioned the naked girl over the large dildo attached to the seat and guided the girl down onto it. It entered her young body easily, confirming that her pussy was juicy and ready. Melody's bare bottom reached the seat as the girl cried out in ecstasy. Melinda quickly grabbed on ankle, loop rope around it, and pulled it back and up to the back of the chair where she lashed it to the chair. She repeated that with the other ankle and Melody was sitting impaled upon the steel dildo, knees spread wide and ankles tied to the back of the chair up near her bottom. Melinda tied yet another rope to her wrists and got down on her knees to bind the other end of that to a rung under the chair. But not before pulling tightly to make Melody's back pressed against the chair's back. The downward pull on her arms also made the firm, young breasts stick out beautifully.
Then, suddenly, Melinda was gone. Melody was off into some world of her own, eyes closed, breath coming in gasps, and body straining in slow motion against the ropes. The head moved from side to side and back, swaying to some music only she heard. Fascinated, Linda watched as Melody reached her orgasm. The teenager arched her body the little bit allowed her by the ropes, shivered all over and cried out her ecstasy. Her head was thrown back and for long moments she was frozen that way, every muscle tense, face, neck and breasts flushed. Then a shiver began in her head and quickly worked its way down until her whole body was shaking. The tremors took a long time to die down.
Finally the teenager was limp in her ropes. It had come quickly, yet, for an orgasm, it had lasted a long time. A very long time. Linda, for her part, was fascinated to watch. But after the teenager had floated away on a sea of pleasure, Linda was still sexually excited, in pain, and frustrated. She wished she could have the orgasm she had just seen in this beautiful and innocent looking teenager but it was denied her. Had not all her weight been driving that wooden edge into her sex, she might have twisted and rubbed until she worked her body into the orgasm it craved. But that was denied her. So she suffered frustration on top of agony and cried for herself.
Later, Melody showed signs of coming back to life. The girl dimly looked around as if awakening and not knowing where she was. Then she shook her shoulders, looked down at her spread knees, and moaned.
There began another show that Linda had to watch even though it just added to her frustration. The young girl was struggling against the ropes, fighting them with all her strength and, as Linda would have predicted, failing to win her freedom. The struggles and pumping her hips against the chair seat were all she needed to work herself back up to another climax. She cried out and the body strained against the bondage as she orgasmed a second time in less than half an hour.
With the endurance of youth, Melody reached four orgasms during the afternoon and seemed to be sexually high all the rest of the time. When Melinda came to untie the youngster member of the Hellfire Club, the teenage girl was exhausted. She was untied from the chair and helped into her clothes. Then she and the maid left Linda suffered through another hour before Melinda returned. She lowered the bound arms first then replaced the boxes before untying the ankles. Linda felt like she had to be peeled off the wood, so embedded was the edge into her flesh. She could not stand and had to be helped to a sitting position on the edge of the chair that Melody had used for her sexual satisfaction. Her arms were untied then fell limply to her side. She could not move them and the returning circulation brought a fresh agony of its own. She did not protest as her wrists were locked in handcuffs behind her back. She had to be helped to walk and did so with a widelegged stance. Her pussy burned and ached and she was certain it had been ruined for life.
A warm bath helped. A good dinner helped. Linda was feeling almost normal by the time Melinda came to fetch her to Helena's bed.
CHAPTER SEVEN - LESBIAN LOVE
Linda's arms were bound behind her back with the elbows touching, a fashion she was becoming used to at this place. Then she was marched upstairs and to a rather fancy bedroom done mainly in shades of blue. She was told to stand in the middle of the room and wait. When she was left alone, the temptation to flee or at least search for something to cut the ropes was very powerful. But Linda was very much aware of the punishments she had undergone the last couple days and that awareness held her back. Besides, she told herself, if there was any chance of getting out of here, they wouldn't have left her alone.
Helena came casually in, dressed in a lovely black silk nightgown, and smile on her face. She walked around the naked Linda, drinking in her lovely body, the tightly bound arms, and the way it made those lovely, big breasts stick out. Finally she came to a halt in front of the naked slavegirl.
"Are you lesbian?" she asked.
"Do my arms have to be tied this tight?" countered Linda. She knew was lesbian love was, she had a couple experiences when she was a teenager and experimenting with sex. But she didn't consider herself a lesbian. It could be fun... With the right girl, one you cared for. She didn't care for Helena.
"You're not answering the question. But no matter, you will do as I tell you. If you don't know how to please another woman, you will learn. Oh, yes, you will stay bound that way. I like it."
"Well, I don't."
"Now you know you're not acting very submissive. Not at all like a proper slavegirl." Helena seemed amused to find Linda expressing some rebellion.
"Please, these ropes hurt," Linda said sincerely, trying a different line of reasoning. "I'm sure I could be a better lover if my arms weren't hurting so much."
"You'll be a good lover no matter how you're tied or hurting. It's the law of the slavegirl."
"Never heard of such a law."
"Well, what do you think slavegirls are for? They exist solely to provide pleasure for their owners. Sexually pleasure foremost, of course, but any kind. For example, if I were to derive pleasure from watching you whipped... " She let the threat trail off suggestively. Linda knew she was being told there could be worse things than making love to this woman. Much worse things.
Linda sighed and reconsidered. She was a prisoner. She had been tortured (no other word for it). And she could be tortured again. She had best behave. At least until there was a chance for freedom. And she had gone to bed with strangers before - it was a part of her profession. This time it would be a woman.
"How may I pleasure you?" Linda said, trying to sound sincere. Or at least not angry.
"Start by calling me 'Mistress'."
"How may I pleasure you, Mistress." The words tasted bitter to Linda but she uttered them. .
"I'm sure you're not sincere but we'll let that pass for now. What I want is to see how good you are in bed. Come over her and sit on the edge of the bed."
"I'm afraid you'll find my sex isn't good for anything. I was on that damned Horse all day and I'm afraid I've suffered permanent injury. I can't even walk right. And it hurts terribly still."
"You'll recover, the girls always do. And who said anything about your sex being used?" With that Helena knelt down and bound Linda's ankles together. Then she bound the legs together above the knees, tugging on the ropes until they cut deeply into the soft flesh of Linda's thighs.
She stood with her legs straddling Linda's bound legs, took her head in both her hands to look her straight in the eyes. "You're going to be using your mouth and tongue on my breasts and pussy. And anywhere else I tell you to. Don't get any ideas about biting. You hurt me and I'll make you regret the day you were born. I'll start by cutting of those lovely breasts. Then I'll torture you day and night until you die from the pain and anguish. But before that happens, that beautiful body of yours will be shredded and mangled. Understand?"
The question was spoken softly but Linda had no doubt this woman was sincere about her threat. "I understand." Then she added, "Mistress."
"Good. Just wanted to make sure you understood. Now crawl up on the bed and lay on your back."
Linda did as she was told, a struggle with her arms and legs tightly bound. And it wasn't too comfortable to lay on her bound arms but she did. Linda discarded her nightgown and lay along side her naked slavegirl. This woman, for all her sadism, was a lovely woman with a very firm, slender body and nice breasts herself. She put one of those breasts next to Linda's mouth in obvious invitation. Linda leaned her head forward and took the nipple in her mouth.
There then began a long session of lovemaking in which Linda learned things she had never even thought of. Helena was in no hurry, seeming to enjoy the slow foreplay and not in any hurry to reach an orgasm. Linda was positioned in different ways that her mouth might give pleasure to different parts of Helena. Once she was even laid down on her stomach while Helena placed her breasts against Linda's hands and ordered her to grab them and squeeze tight, as a man might. After a long time of that, she straddled Linda's bound legs and placed her pussy where those fingers could reach it. She then ordered Linda to finger her, to tease her sex, slowly and gently. Linda felt strange laying there on her stomach, face pushed into a pillow, whole body feeling the tight ropes, and her fingers reaching up to pleasure another woman. But she kept telling herself that it was better than riding the Horse or being hogtied in that cage all night.
It took a long time but Helena finally showed signs of approaching climax. When it seemed she was finally ready for it, she placed Linda on her back on the bed, knelt with Linda's head between her knees as she faced the naked body spread out before her. Then she reached under the pillow and brought out two alligator clips, slender metal snouts lined with razor sharp teeth and held closed with a strong spring. These she quickly snapped upon Linda's nipples. Linda cried out with the sudden biting pain and shook her body back and forth. But her head was firmly held steady and unmoving. Then Helena placed her body on top of Linda's, pinning her to the bed, crushing her breasts and placing her vagina directly above her slavegirl's mouth.
"Shove your tongue inside me! Suck my clit! Lash it with your tongue!"
Linda obeyed as Helena's arms wrapped around her hips to press them close to her. It didn't take long before the totally helpless slavegirl had tongue lashed the dark haired girl into a climax. As she came, Helena squeezed Linda's hips with all" the strength in her arms and shuddered with ecstasy.
Linda endured her mistress' pleasure, her breasts burning with the sharp pain of those clips ripping at her tender tits. When finally Helena rolled over, Linda asked to have the clips removed. She was ignored. A while later, after Helena had rested and come back to earth from whatever cloud she had floated away to, she did take the clips off, evoking a gasp of pain with each removal.
Then she rolled Linda onto the floor where she tied some rope from her ankles to end bedpost at the bottom. Another length of rope went from her bound elbows to the top bedpost. Linda could roll over a little and had a few inches she could wiggled back and forth but the ropes held her prison to the bed. Between them and the ropes around her arms and ankles, she would not be going anywhere and would spend a very uncomfortable night.
After the lights went out, Helena leaned over the edge of the bed and advised, "Don't make any noise. If you wake me up, you'll get to ride the Horse for the rest of the night. And probably all day tomorrow, too. Good night."
It was a long night and Linda could do little to ease her discomfort. But she did try to be quiet, even when the ache in her arms and shoulders became nearly unbearable.
And she even managed to drift off to sleep now and then for short naps. As she drifted off the first time, she was remembering the way Helena had laid her body on top of Linda's and pushed her pussy down onto her face. She could vividly remember those arms squeezing her hips and Helena's panting breath against her thighs. She went to sleep wishing that her mistress had been using her tongue on the sex that was so close to her face to give Linda the same pleasure she had received.
CHAPTER EIGHT - STANDING TORTURE
In the morning Linda was sore, stiff and ashamed. The soreness and stiffness came from being tightly bound all night laying on Helena's floor. The shame came from knowing that she had performed more than satisfactorily the night before. She kept telling herself that she was not a lesbian and she didn't enjoy what she had been forced to do. But a part of her mind sarcastically asked if that was, indeed, true.
As the ropes were taken off and replaced with handcuffs by the maid Melinda, Linda told herself that she had only done what was necessary to save herself from terrible punishment. For surely Helena would have punished her in some horrible fashion had she refused to service the girl who considered herself Linda's mistress. But part of her wondered how much was salvation and how much was enjoyed. She remembered very clearly wishing that Helena would have been busy with her tongue on Linda's pussy, especially when the climax came that Linda could not share.
Maybe every girl has a little lesbian in her, Linda thought as she was given her morning bath. It had been an incredible sense of power when she saw the intense orgasm she had brought her mistress to. There had been some kind of pleasure. But Linda swept it away with a mental proclamation that it had been only joy at having escaped punishment for the night.
Yet all through breakfast she could not drive the image or the feel of Helena's beautiful body from her mind. Like a song that sticks in your mind, the prior evening replayed in her mind right up to the time for her daily punishment.
Linda had not doubt that she would be punished that day. She had been told that she would undergo daily punishment for a few weeks. And, although she hated it, she had to admit that it was a good idea if you wanted to break a girl's spirit and train her to be a good slave. But she wasn't broken yet and she knew she would fight it with all that was in her.
"Well, what is it to be today?" Linda asked after all else had been finished. "The Horse? Or a torture more punishing?"
Melinda said nothing but led the handcuffed girl to the small room where the Horse lived. But it was not the Horse that Linda was to ride. Melinda positioned her over the dildo mounted on the shaft coming straight up from the floor. Her ankles were unlocked. As Linda considered the wisdom of dashing for the door, Melinda lubricated the dildo generously. Then she held a switch in her hand with a long cord from it disappearing into a hole in the wall. When she pressed the button, there was a humming sound and the dildo rose slowly up. Melinda knelt down and made sure that Linda's vagina was positioned directly over the end of the replica male phallus. Before she knew what was happening, the thing was inside her, slowly sliding up. It was a strange sensation, partly discomfort but also a good part exciting. When it came to rest Linda was comfortably filled, still flat-footed and in no pain. If this was all she had to endure, it might not be too bad a day. In fact, she told herself, some girls would consider this hardly punishment at all.
Melinda tied a length of rope to each ankle and ran that to rings implanted in opposite walls. She tightened one rope then the other until Linda was standing with legs spread about two feet apart, a bit strained position but not impossible. Spreading the legs outward had caused her body to lower some and the dildo to bury itself deeply into her vagina. The hard artificial penis was certainly filling her pussy and more uncomfortable than before but still not painful. Linda watched carefully to see if Melinda would add something else to her punishment.
She did.
Linda didn't see from where they came, but Melinda produced two metal clips and wasted no time clipping them on Linda's nipples. The captive girl gasped as each was attached. They hurt. Not as bad as most of the things done to her here, but they hurt. Then Melinda was gone.
Linda shook her breasts but the clips wouldn't shake off. Then she tried bouncing her breasts up and down so see if that could work them loose. But the little metal devils hung on. The little things bit her tender flesh just enough to create a burning sensation and some small sharp pains when they moved. There must have been tiny teeth on the insides of the clips.
Since her wrists were only handcuffed behind her back, Linda brought one hand around to the front and tried to reach the clip on that side. Her fingers crawled up the side of her breast towards the captive nipple. She strained and found that she could just touch the clip with her fingertip. But there is a big difference between touching the thing and being able to open the spring on the clip. To do that she would have to get the clip between her forefinger and thumb and press down. She just couldn't work her thumb far enough up to reach the clip. She finally stopped her efforts because each time she touched it, tiny pains shot into her breast. She tried the other side only to find the same situation there. She could flip the clips with fingertips but not jar them free.
After an hour she ceased all attempts to free herself or get the clips off. They continued to hurt but it was more a big annoyance rather than a terrible pain. She remembered the itching powder under tape and was glad this day brought her only a burning in her nipples. She could only hope that no damage was being done.
After two hours she was getting bored and wanted to move. But there was little movement allowed her. She found that she could shift her feet a little forward or back, only a couple inches. There was no way she could raise her body off that artificial penis. She doubted she could even do it if her legs hadn't been tied spread apart.
After three hours she found she was moaning now and then. The clips were getting very annoying. And it was frustrating to be able to touch them but not dislodge them.
After four hours she looking for anything that would either distract her mind from the nagging pains in her nipples and that huge dildo filling her pussy. She was a healthy young woman, her body was trying to react to the impalement of her sex by an organ shaped exactly as the one that is suppose to impale her. It was a nice feeling to be so filled and rather exciting. But all morning Linda had been trying to fight down that excitement, to deny what her body wanted and what she suspected they wanted her to do. It would be embarrassing and shameful to come to a climax while standing on that horrid thing.
Melinda came around lunch time and gave her some water and a little food. Linda was grateful for the food and the break in a boring existence.
"How long will I stand here?" she asked.
"Maybe I will be ordered to take you off at dinner," the Mexican serving girl said simply. "Maybe not."
"You mean I could have to stand here all night!" That was a frightening thought. "Has that been done?"
Melinda nodded. "Yes. A few times a girl is left to stand on that thing all night. Is not easy to stand up all day and all night, no?"
"No. I mean, yes. It's not easy. It's terrible. Couldn't you let me get off this? Just for a few minutes? Please?"
Melinda ignored the pleas. She made ready to leave.
"Melinda! Do you know what it's like to have to stand here like this?"
T Melinda sighed. "Yes. It was done to me once. I have been put on most of these things. So I will know what it is like when I fix you on them. I stood as you are for a couple hours one morning." She paused but Linda couldn't tell if she was remembering those hours with pleasure or not. "I have also ridden the Horse, they call it. Only an hour. It is terrible. And everything else. So I will know how to fix you on these things. So I will know what hurts that which does not."
"Melinda," Linda tried to put some of the pain she was feeling into her voice, "could you please take these clips off? They hurt."
"Cannot take them off." And with that simple reply, the brown skinned girl left.
An hour after the maid left, Linda gave in. With a collapse of her will power, she began raising herself up on her toes and letter herself back down. The movement made the stationary dildo slide out a little then back up into her vagina. It felt so good, so natural for a shaft to be sliding in and out, that Linda was soon breathing heavily, with eyes closed and thighs clenching against the shaft. Without thinking about it, her hands grasp her bare bottom and the fingers dug in.
It was not long before she felt the fire grow and explode in her loins. With a gasp she tried to close her legs on the dildo and shaft. Her body shivered as she was washed with wave after wave of pleasure.
Much later, after she had slowly drifted down from her sexual high, Linda admitted to herself that this was certainly one way to reach an intense orgasm. The handcuffs, the unmoving solidness of that shaft inside her, and the biting pain of the clips all merged together to make her unbelievably excited. The climax was good and she didn't mind admitting that to herself.
Later, hours into the afternoon, she again worked herself up to another intense climax. She was a little surprised to realize that as she reached her orgasm her hand was reaching around and flicking one of the clips, making it hurt her. She didn't question why she was doing it, she just did what felt right and good. The second orgasm was as intense as the first. Afterwards she wondered if she would have to be trying for orgasms all night long to ease the frustration and boredom.
She was untied right before dinner, given a bath and a good meal, then taken to Helena's bedroom where she was bound tightly with her arms behind her and elbows roped together. A pair of handcuffs was used to lock her ankle to one of the bedposts. After a while Helena came in, smiling wickedly at her naked, captive slavegirl and unbuttoning her blouse. The night was a repeat of the previous night, complete with intense orgasm for her mistress and frustration for Linda. But with a couple of orgasms of her own that afternoon, the frustration was not as great as the night before. Linda concentrated on making her mistress very happy. She seemed to succeed for she was not tied on the floor but allowed to share the warmth and comfort of the bed with her mistress. Her arms remained bound behind her back and her ankle locked to the bedpost, but she slept in the arms of the woman she had serviced the best she could, and that was far better than she had come to expect from the Hellfire Club.
The following day she was returned to a routine of torture and agony.
CHAPTER NINE - BOUND TO A POLE
The Torture of the Day was simple but effective. There was a pole, perhaps four inches in diameter, made of metal. One end of the pole was planted into a small platform in the floor, the other end attached to a curving metal bar that ran from near the ceiling directly overhead to a pillar about four feet high and seven feet away from the pole. Linda wondered about this strange arrangement but didn't wish to ask questions.
Her ankles were bound in handcuffs before her arms were freed. Then she was placed with her back against the pole and standing on a small piece of metal welded to the pole and a few inches above the platform. Her arms were pulled around behind the pole and the wrists crossed and bound. Then her elbows were bound, not touching but pulled tightly together. Then her waist was lashed to the pole with thick rope. More followed around her chest, above and below her breasts, and around her hips. Then the handcuffs were taken off her ankles and her legs bound, first together, then to the pole with ropes at the ankles and wrapping tightly all the way up to the hips. It wasn't a continuous wrap, more a criss-cross pattern but it held her legs tightly to the pole.
A small rubber ball was pushed into her mouth and she was told to close her teeth around it and her lips. Wide tape was then wrapped around her head, sealing her lips shut. Then Melinda pushed her head against the pole and wrapped more tape around both her head and the pole. When finished, Linda was very firmly held to that pole.
Melinda checked every rope carefully. Satisfied that all was tight and secure she went to a switch on the wall. Motors hummed and Linda felt herself rising upwards and tilting forward at the same time, with a little cry of surprise. As she tilted more, she realized that the foot end of the pole was rising up straight from the platform. At the same time the top end of the pole was sliding forward and down along it's curve. When the pole came to rest, Linda was completely horizontal, hanging under the pole, suspended by her ropes. Then she understood why Melinda had been so careful about checking all the ropes. The position wasn't uncomfortable, enough ropes were supporting her body. She was even grateful for the tape holding her head to the pole. Without it she would have to hold her head up by the neck muscles alone or let it hang down.
Linda wanted to ask how long she was going to stay in this strange position but speech was impossible. She suspected that it would be a long time. Almost every bondage position the Hellfire Club had put her in was for a long time. At least this one didn't seem too bad. She would be uncomfortable but not in pain.
As she was thinking that comforting thought, Melinda approached with two metal clips in her hands. They were alligator clips, metal jaws lined with tiny sharp teeth. Linda groaned as she saw them approach her tender nipples and struggled against the ropes. But it was no use, the bonds were too tight and she could only watch in horror as the jaws opened then closed upon her tits. She cried out in pain as each was applied for the little beasts sent sharp pains shooting into her breasts. In her mild agony, Linda hardly noticed the small chains dangling from the alligator clips. But she did notice them when Melinda attached small lead weights to each chain.
"That's only one ounce each," she told Linda. "Not much at all."
For a punishment that was "not much at all" it sure hurt, thought Linda. The weight of the clips, chain and lead pulled her nipples down and stretched each breast. Linda was moaning and her fingers fluttering helplessly. There was nothing else she could do and her breasts hurt.
"I come back later," Melinda informed. "Add more weights then."
After the Mexican girl had left, Linda tried to shake her shoulders in hopes of dislodging the metal monsters. It only made them hurt more. She wondered how long she would have to endure this. And if Melinda would really add more weight. That would be too much to endure. She cried.
It was maybe an hour later when Melinda returned. She took two more one ounce weight from a small box of them and attached them to the chains. Linda was whining before the first weight was on and actually screamed a little when it jerked her nipple harder. She was trying to plead with Melinda as the girl left the room. This was just too much. Those weights were pulling her nipples down and stretching her breasts painfully. The clips seemed to dig their tiny teeth in tighter, as if they were real animals holding on tighter lest they fall.
Linda fought the ropes but was easily defeated. She shook and tugged at her arms, her fingers searched desperately for loose ropes or knots but could find none. She irrationally tired to free any part of her body she could. But the ropes and tape held and she remained a prisoner. She was suffering, and what started out seeming to be a mild punishment was rapidly turning into real torture.
It was at least an hour before her next visitor, time was so hard to judge for the suffering girl. This time it was Melody, the cheerful teenager who delighted in both giving and receiving pain. "Hi, Linda! How's things going? Oh, can't talk? Well, that's better. As this punishment goes on a girl does tend to scream a lot. You'll be thankful for the gag."
Linda was not thankful for the gag. She would have loved to tell this perky little teenage girl a thing of two about how terrible this torture was.
"I had Melinda put me in this once, just to see what it was like. But I had her stop at one ounce of weight. It hurt my titties terribly. But if it weren't for that pain, it was an interesting way to be bound up. One of these days I'm going to ask Melinda to fix me up that way and let me sleep all night like that. Should be fun."
Some fun, thought Linda. She made pitiful whines through her nose, trying to tell Melody she was in terrible pain and that she feared her nipples were being damaged.
"I'll add the next clips," Melody said cheerfully, as if offering some aid to a friend. "They don't go on your nipples, you know."
With two alligator clips in hand, Melody got down on her knees and approached the bound girl's pubic patch. "It's not always easy to get the good part free when you legs are tied together like this." She was working her fingers between Linda's legs until she managed to get one of her pussy lips between thumb and forefinger of one hand. "But once you do, it's easy to attach the clip."
Linda screamed into the gag as the tiny teeth sank into the very tender flesh of her vagina lips. The pain was terrible. Melody backed off to watch the naked and bound girl wildly fight her bonds. Not that she could move much but the muscles tensed and her fingers dance wildly in the air. She was breathing in short pants and whining loudly as Melody approached with the other alligator clip in hand. "Have to come in pairs, you know," she said as if explaining something very basic to a schoolgirl. "There, got it!"
Linda screamed again, making a surprising amount of noise for a gagged girl. Melody seemed pleased with the reactions as she lightly ran her hand along the bound girl's flank. "I usually don't take other girls to bed... " she mused aloud. "But I may make an exception in your case. You really are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And you have such lovely breasts. So fine."
Suddenly Melody was gone, leaving Linda gasping in pain. Over the next couple hours she gasped, moaned, and shook all over in frustration at the burning pain in her nipples and pussy. It was horrible and Linda wished there were something she could do about the agony. But she was completely secure and alone. The pain went on and on and on.
"Next time this is done to you, I put four clips on your sex and more weights on your tits."
Linda opened her eyes to see Melinda standing there. At least she had not more clips or weights in her hands. But she was also not making any moves to free the suffering girl.
"It is uncomfortable, I am sure," she added. "But you take it okay. Right?" Without waiting for an answer, Melinda left the room again. Linda's cries of protest faded away in the still air of the dungeon.
At times when the pain had settled to a terrible ache in her nipples and pussy, Linda planned revenge. She eased her pain by thinking of terrible things she would do to these Hellfire girls, starting with that Helena who seemed to the be leader. She would strip all the flesh from her body, a slow inch at a time. She would boil her hot oil with the flames set for simmer so it would take a long time. She would lash every square inch of her body with a steel tipped whip, pausing only when necessary to awaken the woman when she fainted. She would lash her between four Toyotas and have them pull her body apart-slowly because they're economy models with small engines. She would... Well, there were other visions dancing around in Linda's feverish, pain- racked brain, all sharing a common hatred and desire for revenge. It might well be something that will never come to pass, but it helped her keep her sanity during the long hours.
When Melinda came to free her, Linda was surprised to find that she had actually spent the entire day in semi- suspension and constant pain. By that time there was little feeling beyond a dull ache in her breasts and nipples. And the pain in her pussy had diminished to an ache with occasional flashes of sharp pain that shot up through her body. When Melinda unclipped the torture devices from her nipples, Linda again cried out in agony. It was a different pain but it hurt. And again when the clips were taken from her pussy lips. She was moaning as the pole tilted back upright and Melinda worked at the ropes and tape holding her prisoner.
When all the ropes were off, Linda sat on the floor, both hands almost cupping her breasts, wanting to touch the sore nipples to assure herself that they were not damaged beyond repair but afraid to touch them. She could see deep, red indentations in the soft flesh of her nipples but surprisingly no blood. She had truly feared the flesh would be ripped off by the cruel teeth. Likewise there was no blood coming from her tortured labia.
Her arms were pulled around behind her and locked there in handcuffs but she didn't mind. All that mattered in Linda's world was that the pain was oozing away. She dared to dream that it might all go away. Pain had been her companion so much all day that she had come to expect it always would.
She was exhausted from a day of torture even though she had not moved from that pole. Melinda had to help her to her feet. In the bath room, while awaiting a much- welcome bath, Linda stared at her image in the mirror. She had a very fine body, she had always known that. But now it was marked with deep indentations from ropes, indentations that ranged from above her breasts down to her ankles. In a strange way, Linda was attracted to those marks. They were a vivid reminder of the very uncomfortable but also very helpless bondage she had just endured. She remembered Melody's words and understood. The teenager had said that without the painful clips that position would be "an interesting way to be bound up."
That night, after a warm bath, a good meal and a little time to rest up, Linda was taken to Helena's bedroom. Her arms had been bound behind her with the elbows touching before entering the bedroom. Once there she was surprised to find another person already there. It was Melody and she was tightly bound to a stout chair in the middle of the room.
"Hi, Linda," she said cheerfully.
Linda looked the young girl over carefully. She was naked, showing off that beautiful young body with a hint of tan lines and firm breasts as only the young can have. Her arms were bound behind her and behind the chair's back, wrists and elbows together. Her legs had been bound together, then a rope from the ankle bondage run up to her wrists. That rope was tight enough to force her legs to bend back and under the chair with the feet totally off the floor. Another rope around her waist and the chair held the girl firmly seated.
"I opened my big mouth and asked Helena if I could have you for the night. This is what it got me! Now I get to watch you and her but can't join in. Isn't that just a crazy torture! I'll get very homy, I know. But I can't move a bit! It will be fun watching you two. But I'll get so frustrated... Beautiful torture, isn't it?"
Linda sighed. She wished all her tortures around this place were as "beautiful" as Melody's. But then Melody loved being treated this way. It served her right if she got horny as hell and frustrated until it drove her out of her mind.
Helena came in, inspected the girl bound to the chair, then Linda. Satisfied, she took off her clothes, dimmed the lights to a low level, and pointed to the bed. Linda climbed on the bed and knelt there, waiting to give her mistress pleasure. There was a delay and Linda ventured a peek behind her. Helena was just finished buckling a gag on Melody, one of those rubber wad and leather straps things that Linda hated.
"Don't want any kibitzing," Helena said as she climbed onto the bed. For a while she examined Linda's nipples and labia, fingering the sore flesh with real interest. "Good job. A great deal of pain but no damage. You could take the same punishment again tomorrow."
"Oh... Please don't!"
"What was that? A slavegirl telling her mistress what to do? And not addressing me properly?"
"Please don't do that horrible thing to me again, Mistress." Linda tried to sound sincere. The idea of spending another day with weights hanging from her nipples and sex was frightening.
"A little better. But we'll see. I wonder if you could take a full twenty-four hours on the pole...?"
Linda clamped her mouth shut for fear she would get herself in trouble.
"Well, never mind for now." Helena stretched herself out on the bed to be comfortable. "You may start on my breasts. Lick them all over and suck gently on the nipples."
"Yes, Mistress." Linda began her task, grateful only that the subject of her torture had been dropped for the moment.
Occasionally during the long, slow lesbian lovemaking, Linda glanced towards Melody. The teenage girl gave every appearance of suffering agonizing frustration. Her eyes were wide, her body tense and straining against the ropes, small moaning sounds were coming from her direction, and her nipples were rigid. Linda smiled inwardly. At least Melody was suffering some for the pain she had given Linda that afternoon. But as Linda drifted off to sleep besides a satisfied Helena, and with her arms still bound behind her back, the thought wandered into her mind that perhaps this was not suffering for the teenage girl. Perhaps this was a "beautiful torture" that the girl was loving every second of. Linda didn't know.
The next day she was shipped out of Helena's house.
CHAPTER TEN - PACKAGED FOR SHIPMENT
When Linda awoke it was to find herself alone in Helena's bedroom. The empty chair gave mute testimony that Melody had been untied. Linda hoped she had spent a very frustrating night. Then the realization hit her that her legs were not bound or chained in any way. She was immediately on her feet and wondering how to get out of that big house. Nudity and bound arms did not discourage her from wanting freedom from that place of constant restraint and pain. She headed for the door.
The escape bid lasted all of about ten seconds. Then she ran right into Helena as she dashed in the direction she thought the front door might be. A hand was suddenly grasping her long hair and jerking her head backwards.
"You wouldn't be trying to escape, would you?" hissed Helena. "That would be conduct very unbecoming a slavegirl. And a very good reason for punishment."
Linda's heart sank. Not only was she not going to make it to freedom, she was going to get punishment for the attempt. And she was sure that the punishment for attempted escape would be rather unpleasant. Very unpleasant.
Helena conducted her down the stairs and to one of the small torture chambers below the ground level. There her arms were freed from the tight ropes but immediately locked in steel handcuffs. Her ankles were similarly locked together before her morning bath and breakfast. Afterwards she was returned to the same little room and locked to a ring in the wall by a short chain and padlock around her neck. For a long time she waited, alternating between boredom and thankfulness that this was apparently her punishment for the day. Just to have to stand next to one wall with wrists and ankles handcuffed was by far the easiest ordeal yet. But she was sure the Helena hadn't forgotten the escape attempt of that morning.
They came for her three hours later, Melinda and Helena, with the latter grinning in a manner not designed to instill confidence in the chained and naked slavegirl.
"You're going to be shipped to one of our other houses," Helena began cheerfully. "We think it's best for you to get out of the country for a while. Besides, the place we're sending you if really very nice. Lot's of warm sun and fresh air. You'll like it."
Linda was sure she wouldn't. She was sure anything that this woman did to her she would hate. She had come to the conclusion that Helena was the leader of this Hellfire Club and was the one behind the harsh treatment she was getting. Her wrists were unlocked but her ankles left handcuffed and her neck left chained to the wall. Considering that there were two of them and she was pretty well still chained up, she discarded plans to fight them with the now freed hands. It was maddeningly that both these women didn't seem to consider her free hands and arms are worthy of attention. They gathered a big pile of bondage equipment and set it all out on a table near her. There were ropes, straps, tape, and a big gag. Linda wasn't sure what they were going to do to her, but it looked like it would be a big production number.
They began by placing her wrists together behind her back, crossed. That made Linda feel a little better. If the wrists had been placed palm to palm, she would have been sure they planned to bind her elbows together. And she was getting rather tired of having her elbows painfully bound together for long periods, often all night. It was uncomfortable, often grew to painfully so, and made her feel very helpless.
Thin cord was used to wrap her wrists, with special care being taken with each winding. The cord went around her wrists one way then the other. Then it was wrapped around itself as a cinch rope and knotted several times. Then the cord continued around her wrists again, half a dozen wrappings in one horizontal followed by half a dozen vertical. Then more cinching down and more knots. Then the process was repeated again. The final knots, she noted, were tied up between her arms were her fingers could never reach. Her wrists were tightly bound together and definitely very securely, but she had been tied much more uncomfortably before. It gave her a little sinking feeling of fear in her stomach to wonder why they were taking such care with her bondage this time.
"Where am I going?" she dared ask.
Helena didn't answer at first. "Someplace," she finally said, "far from here. Someplace with lots of sand and sun and not much else. An island, actually, but I won't tell you in which ocean. Oh, there will be beaches but not tourists, no civilization at all."
She tightened down the final knot on Linda's wrists then reached for the big roll of tape. "I've ever so grateful to my husband, Louie. He left me so much money when he died. I doubt I could spent it all in one lifetime even if I tried. And I'm trying! You see, among other things, like you, I own the island."
Linda held still while her fingers were being taped together. First the ring finger and the little finger were taped together. Then the forefinger and middle finger. Then those two groups were taped together. Then her thumb was tucked along the middle of the other fingers and taped in position. They didn't spare the tape, lots of it was used to insure that she could not use her fingers at all. She couldn't even wiggle them.
When both hands were tightly taped so her fingers were totally useless, their attention turned to her elbows. First the same kind of thin cord was used to bind them together, but not touching, just pulled towards each other until the cord was taunt. The elbows moved towards each other, causing her wrists to tighten up. When a girl's wrists are tied crossed, the elbows just can't be tied touching each other. The ropes around the wrists would prevent that. With expertise they tied the elbows just tight enough to be uncomfortable but nowhere near as painful as they had been for most of the last few days.
With the elbows bound and knotted securely, they turned to securing her arms against her body. First her arms were pressed against her body by Melinda while Helena wrapped a couple turns of the a two inch wide tape, silver colored tape around her arm just above the elbow bondage. Then she wrapped the tape around Linda's chest above her breasts, five times, each as tightly as she could. Then the tape was wrapped around her arms below the elbows and breasts, again tightly so her arms were really pressing against her back. The tape was then wrapped several times around her bound wrists and then around her hips allowing the bound and taped hands to rest against the top of her rump. When that tape was taunt and around eight turns added, the tape was cut and the end smoothed down. But that was not all the tape to be added. More was wrapped around her arms and body at the narrowest part of her waist.
When finished, Linda could not move her arms at all. From shoulders to the hands they were tightly taped to her body. And her hands were very limited in their movement. There was no question in her mind about escape, it was impossible.
Helena seemed to be pleased. Linda supposed she was also please, at least because this was not some more painful form of restraint. But that little bit of fear nagged at the back of her mind. "Why are you tying me so securely. I mean, there's no way I could get my hands free from the cord alone, you know. All that tape is, what do they call it? Overkill?"
"Right. Overkill. But, you see, you're going to have a lot of time on your hands with nothing to do, and we don't want you using all that time to work on some cords around your wrist, do we?"
"Of course not," replied Linda.
"Was that a sarcastic reply? Well, doesn't matter right now. We have to get you ready to fly out tonight and don't have time to punish you right now. And don't think that I've forgotten that escape attempt you pulled this morning. You'll be punished for that when I get to Rainbow's End."
"Rainbow's End?" asked Linda. "You own an island called Rainbow's End?"
"Well, actually the house is called that. The island has some native name that I can't pronounce. I'll get around to officially changing that, too, someday. But I call the house Rainbow's End because at the rainbow's end you find your heart's desire."
Linda didn't reply to that. Melinda had just removed the handcuffs from her ankles and she was being helped up to sit down on the edge of the table. There then began a binding process on her legs that resembled what they had done to her arms. First her ankles were crossed and thin cord wrapped tightly around then. But that cord passed only one way so they could bring her knees together to bind the legs both above and below the knees. The thin cord cut into her flesh in a manner that, like her arms, was uncomfortable but not painful. At least not yet. Then they wrapped tape over the cord, a dozen wrappings around her ankles and a dozen around her legs below the knees. Then a fresh roll of tape was taken and started by wrapping several times around her ankles again. But the purpose of that new roll was soon obvious. They rolled her over on her stomach on the table and folded her legs down. As her feet approached her bottom, the cord and tape around her knees tightened considerably but the two strong woman pushed until her heels were pressed against her bottom. Then she was lifted partly and the roll of tape passed under her and back up the other side. In that manner they secured her legs doubled with a dozen windings of tape.
"This tape is very good for this purpose. It's sticky part is very strong and the tape itself is strong enough to tow a car. A dozen strong men couldn't pull apart a single length of it. I don't think you'll be able to break it."
Linda agreed but not verbally.
"Now for the gag."
Linda didn't like the idea of being gagged but she could hardly put up a fight. She was beginning to understand one thing about being a slavegirl-if you fight, the ropes, or whatever, goes on tighter. She didn't fight when they told her to open her mouth. The rubber wad that was shoved in was very big. It pressed her tongue down and fill her mouth. The sudden thought occurred to her to ask how long she was going to be bound and gagged like this for shipment but speech was already taken from her. She tried to mouth the question or make some noises that might convey it to her captors.
"How long?" replied Helena.
Linda did not like the smile on her face. "A long time. You're going far beyond the borders of this country. But I won't tell you how long. You don't have a watch anyway. And you couldn't bring your wrists up to your face to read it if you had one. And what good would it be to know? You will remain bound like this until someone frees you. That will simply be for as long as we want. Maybe I'll never free you."
Helena seemed to be enjoying this conversation. And probably the look on Linda's face. The gag continued with straps going around her head and over the top and even one under her chin. She was one very tightly gagged girl when they finished with that part of her.
Linda couldn't move her head much as she lay on the table but she did see them drag over a trunk. It was one of those old fashion steamer trunks, large enough to hold a girl, solidly built and brass bound at the edges and comers. There were numerous stickers on it, mostly advertising places visited around the world.
"Some of those stickers are not real," said Helena. "They're cleverly disguised air holes. You won't suffocate. Well, probably not. Undoubtedly it will get hot in the trunk," she said as she opened the lid. Inside was padded and covered with cloth, roughly in a shape that would accommodate Linda's doubled up and bound body. She lowered the trunk onto it's back.
"Before we put you in there," said Helena with a grin, "a little something to make your trip more interesting." She sprinkled a white powder in the indentation where Linda's breasts would soon be placed. "Itching powder. I believe you have been introduced to it before?"
Linda protested and only a while came out.
The two girls picked up Linda and lowered her into the trunk. The padding did indeed fit her body like it was custom made for it. She was set down on her stomach. The indentation in the padding fitted her body and allowed no movement. When the top was closed, Linda found herself encased in the soft cloth and whatever padding material was under it. When the lid closed over her back it became completely dark and Linda felt very close to panic. The helplessness was almost overpowering. She cried out but the gag and padding muffled her. She could hear hasps and padlocks being shut and wanted to scream.
They tilted her trunk up so she was upright. The padding held her very firmly as she rested on her knees. From someplace near her face she could feel fresh air as she sucked it in. She was whining into the gag but didn't even now if the sound was escaping the trunk.
Then there was nothing. The trunk did not move. She could hear nothing from outside the darkness that surrounded her. She tried to shake her body but the cords, tape and padding held her completely prisoner. She wanted to weep. And she cursed herself for meekly allowing them to do this to her. She should have fought, screamed, something, anything rather then submissively allow them to bind her limbs and make her body so completely helpless.
A while later Linda felt the trunk move and heard scrapping sounds. Every sound from outside was muffled because of the padding pressing against her ears but she could almost make out voices. The trunk suddenly tilted again and bumped. Then she felt like she was moving backward. It wasn't too hard to figure out that she had been put on a dolly and was being wheeled from the dungeon. She never felt bumps indicating stairs but there was a period that might have been a ride upwards in an elevator. Then some more wheeling and another, much shorter rest. Then she heard males voices and, although she couldn't make out most of the words, her heart gave a leap of hope. Maybe someone was coming to rescue her at the last minute!
But the trunk was not opened. Instead it was picked up on another dolly and taken from the house by delivery men who knew not what it contained and cared little. During an hour's drive to the airport, they might have been interested to know that a naked and completely helpless girl rested only a couple feet away in the back of their van. But they did not know that and chatted instead about baseballs games and sexy boards they had screwed. Or would like to screw.
Linda's trunk was bounced around, sometimes left laying on it's side or end for periods, moved here and there, and generally treated like a piece of luggage, which was the beautifully girl had been reduced to. She could hear a lot of sounds around, machines, human voices, aircraft taking off, but could not communicate with anyone. Her gag and the padding prevented all but the tiniest sounds and her bondage prevented any movement. She could not knock against the trunk, she could not make it shake. The thought did occur to her that if she could tip the trunk over one of the times when it was on end, that would attract attention and perhaps rescue. But she couldn't move her brass-bound prison even the slightest.
Finally there was a period of quiet followed by a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that could only be caused by an aircraft taking off. Unfortunately for the naked and bound girl, the trunk had been placed on it's lid and she had to spend the entire trip laying on her bound arms and legs.
But the discomfort in her arms and legs was not the only of her worries. Half way through the trip to the airport, the itching powder began to kick in and by the time the aircraft took off her whole breasts were itching like crazy. Linda tried with all her strength to shake her breasts sideways, and did succeed a bit. But the fraction of an inch she could move them from side to side only hinted at the relief that the ability to scratch would bring. It was almost as if the little bit of rubbing she could produce actually made the itching worse. Finally she stopped and just tried to endure.
It was, as Helena had promised, a very long flight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - RAINBOW'S END
It was a long, long trip. Within her trunk prison, Linda suffered through hours and hours of cramped and strained muscles, not to mention the complete darkness and that maddening itching all over her breasts. There were times when the itching and the impotency to do anything about it drove the naked captive to screaming into her gag. It did no good beyond releasing emotions. Even with all the things that had been done to her by Helena, Melinda, and even Melody, she had not felt as helpless at any time. This journey into new imprisonment seemed to be going on infinitely, and with each passing hour the agony of her bound limbs and immobile body grew.
At times she drifted off into a form of sleep but it was filled with troubled dreams in which she was threatened by some unseen menace and was unable to run. At other times she moaned and whined and cried. And, strangely enough, there were times when she felt her body growing sexually excited, a fire burning in her loins, a strange form of erotic stimulus she did not understand. Yet that sexual urge, that wanton desire to be touched, to have something big shoved hard into her sex, did not satisfy anything. It only left her frustrated and panting and angry. She could not touch that part of herself that wanted to be touched so badly. And the tiny bit she could friction her breasts sent tingles into her breasts but did nothing to get her to the orgasm she would have welcomed whole-heartedly.
Linda lost all sense of time and even of what was happening to her. Her trunk was bumped and bounced and laid on all sides. It was shoved this way and that, and for long periods lay still and quiet, where she knew not. Sometimes there were voices, often there was silence. There was even a period of that seemed as if she were swaying gently back and forth, but she could not be sure. It was beginning to seem to the naked prisoner as if this journey would go on forever, perhaps as a punishment for her misdeeds in life. For a while she actually considered the idea that she had died and this was an eternal punishment for her having been a prostitute. Her trunk would continue bouncing around and being shuffled from here to there forever.
But all good things come to an end. And bad things, too. Linda had been so withdrawn into her own fiendish dreams alternating between fear of this eternal punishment and plans for revenge against those who put her there, that she didn't hear the sound of keys being inserted into padlocks. It was only with the sudden intrusion of light into her prison that Linda knew her journey into hell was over.
Strong hands lifted her from the trunk and deposited her upon a hardwood table. For a long time she could see nothing for her eyes were used only to darkness. But finally the scene around her became misty then cleared as she blinked.
She was in a large room with stone walls. Her trunk lay not far away, opened to reveal the padding that had held her prisoner for so long. She was still bound and gagged and laying on her side on a hard table. From what she could see the door to this room was made of stout iron bars and had a place for a lock. There was one small window to her right but that was up higher than her head and she could see only a patch of blue sky. No one else was present, at least as far as she could see.
Linda wondered what day this was. In her tiny prison she had lost all track of time. And with the tight restrictions on her body and the almost constant itching of her breasts, she was certain that the torment had continued for days.
Suddenly something grabbed her head from behind and she let out a tiny gasp until she realized that it was only hands unbuckling the straps that held the gag in her mouth. When the final strap came off and those hand tugged at the rubber wad, it didn't seem to want to come. Perhaps her jaw had clamped onto the rubber and was locked in position. But, whatever the reason, the gag had to be pulled forcible out. For a long time Linda could not move her jaw and it ached, shooting pains back up the sides of her face.
When she could manage to move her jaw, a perverse sense of humor overtook her and she commented in a casual voice, "That was some trip." Or perhaps she simply was so very glad to be out of the trunk and have that terrible gag out of her mouth.
"Most girls are whining when they come out of the trunk," said a feminine voice from behind her. She could feel hands beginning the unwinding of her doubled up legs. "Some even to kiss my feet, they are so very grateful to be out of there. And there was one girl who said nothing. Never did. The trip had driven her from her senses. She never said a single word." The woman working at cutting away the tape seemed to like to talk about something that made Linda shiver. The memories of endless hours in that prison were far too fresh.
"You could do anything you wanted to that girl," the voice continued. "She didn't react to anything. Helena strung her up by her thumbs and whipped her ass until it was bleeding, and she didn't say a word. Just hung there, taking it. Helena got all pissed off and sold the girl to a brothel in Baghdad. Got word back that she could take fifty men a day. Must be something wrong with those arabs. Imagine, them liking to fuck a gal what just lays there and don't show no emotion at all! But she was an American and they love to fuck American gals. You know what I mean." Linda didn't but she didn't say so. The voice continued, "Had another girl who started in screaming as soon as I got the gag out. Wouldn't stop, just screamed her head off. Well, I cured her of that."
There was a pause where Linda felt she was expected to reply. So she said, "How did you do that?"
"Simple. I put the gag back in and locked her in the trunk for four hours. She was more manageable after that."
"I'll bet. How many girls do you get like this?"
"Well, not many. About one a month. Helena finds it amusing to have them shipped here in trunks by public shipment companies. She has them picked up at her home and shipped here by men who don't know what they're handling. She finds that amusing."
"I don't," Linda said dryly.
"Not to worry. You'll feel better after a bath and a decent sleep."
"A bath! Oh, that would feel wonderful."
The voice walked around in front of Linda. It was a solidly built woman of perhaps thirty years age. She had long blonde hair and wore a two piece bathing suit that looked like it was made of soft leather. While not overly muscular, it was obvious that she was in very good shape and probably very strong for a woman. Her eyes were a deep blue as she looked Linda over. Her face was pretty but just slightly masculine in the line of her jaw and the high cheekbones.
"What is this redness all over your breasts? Were they rubbing against the padding?"
"Itching powder," Linda said with a little obvious anger. "Made the trip more interesting. At least that's what Helena said."
"Interesting. I would not have thought of adding itching powder. You're right, it must have made the trip more interesting." She laughed. "You were just itching to get it over, I'll bet!"
Linda groaned at the pun. But she felt as if she could get to like this woman. "My name's Linda," she offered as her legs were unfolded. Then she moaned as stiff muscles protested the movement. "How long have I been in that trunk? Feels like weeks."
"Actually only about thirty hours. You were shipped via fast freight flights. The longest portion was the boat trip here. Tape really works well, doesn't it? You couldn't work your way free even if you were not in the trunk, right? By the way, my name's Helga."
"You got that right. Houdini couldn't have gotten out of that."
"Helena did not want you to be able to move or make any kind of noise. It would be embarrassing to have someone at the airlines find a naked and bound up girl in a trunk. Would have police asking questions all over the place."
"Then why does she ship me that way. I mean, isn't there more private ways to get a girl out of the country and to this... Well, where ever we are?"
"All you need to know is that this is Rainbow's End."
"Yes, that's what Helena called it. But why does she take the chance that one of the girls might be found?"
"It's the thrill," replied Helga. She stopped working on the tape and leaned her hands against the table. "Those girls in that Hellfire Club, they got more money than sense. They're jaded, that's what they are. Got all the expensive cars and trips around the world they could want. And most of them either outlived or got rid of their rich husbands. So they play whatever kind of games they like." Helga paused to smile. "Like kidnapping young girls and making them into slaves. See what I mean?"
"It would be a little hard for me to miss the point," Linda said dryly.
"Let me help you stand up. It will make it easier for me to take off the tape and ropes from your arms."
It was only with difficulty and help from Helga that Linda could stand, her legs were weak and shaky. She also felt a little light headed as she stood up.
'Take it easy," advised Helga. "It's not easy on a girl's body to be locked up like that for over a whole day. Here, you lean against the table and I'll get you something."
Helga left Linda leaning uncertainly against the wooden edge of the table. The thought occurred to Linda that she could have walked out of there, now that her legs were free. But she dismissed the idea. She could hardly stand, let along run.
Helga returned with a large glass. "Drink this," she said as she held it up to Linda's lips. It tasted and looked like a chocolate malt and never had anything tasted so good to the naked girl. "It's a protein drink. It will help you. I drink them all the time."
Almost immediately Linda felt stronger. "Health food addict?" she asked when the drink was finished.
"Everyone should be," replied the blonde girl. "The body is important."
"I won't argue with you. Right now this body would like to get that itching powder off its breasts. Getting out of that trunk seems to have reactivated the itching."
'Time enough for that when you take a bath," Linda was told. "First I get your arms out of this tape."
The pulling of tape from the skin was not pleasant but the idea that she would soon be able to move her arms again was delightful. With all the tape off and her arms down to the ropes that had begun the bondage, Helga fetched two pairs of handcuffs and placed them on the table. Then she cut the cord from Linda's wrists. The cord fell to the floor to be replaced immediately by one pair of handcuffs. But Linda didn't care. It was so nice to get her wrists apart that she didn't care if it was only a couple inches. The cords were taken from her elbows and she felt tingling where impaired circulation was being restored. It was a wonderful feeling, even if her arms just hung limp.
Helga picked up the other pair of handcuffs and took Linda's arm. "Come on, we'll get you taken care of."
"Thanks," Linda replied. And meant it.
First was a bath. The tub was only slightly smaller than a swimming pool, and the water was scented, filled with bubbles, and very welcome. Linda didn't mind that her wrists were handcuffed behind her back or that Helga did the honors of washing her body. It felt so good that she almost fell sleep in the warm water.
Second was a good meal, served on a patio overlooking an impressive vista of barren rocks and ocean. The house, which she realized was more of a castle, was perched on a cliff over looking waters that were the loveliest blue Linda had ever seen. The sun was warm even though not far above the horizon. The stones of the building and the patio were hot so Linda knew it was late afternoon rather than morning. She sat in a chair and allowed Helga to lock the second set of handcuffs upon her ankles. After the torture of the trunk, this was paradise.
Helga left Linda on the patio. She could have walked even with her ankles joined by a very short length of chain, but she was content to sit there and absorb the warmth offered to her from the sun.
"It's a little early for dinner but I expect you're hungry after your trip and you can get to bed early if you eat early. I suspect you didn't sleep much during your trip." She set a tray before Linda and the smells made her suddenly aware just how hungry she was.
"Not much. I might have been able to get some rest but that itching powder was driving me crazy."
"I understand. Well, you can sleep tonight. None of the Hellfire girls are here right now, and I have no orders except to keep you prisoner."
"You mean," Linda said between bites, "That if Helena or one of the other girls told you to torture me, you would be doing that?"
"Of course. I work for the Hellfire Club." Helga paused. "I like you, Linda. You don't waste your time arguing me with or protesting the way you are treated. And you don't seem to hate me for it."
Linda looked up at the blue eyes. "I don't hate you. I guess you're just doing a job. Hell of a job, though."
"I am doing a job. But I like my work. And I do it very well. Please, Linda, I like you, don't try to escape or fight me. I can make you very sorry you did."
"I don't doubt that."
"Good. We will get along. But you have to understand, when any of the Hellfire girls are here, they can do whatever they wish to you. And I will help them. If they wish, I will torture you until you are screaming. Even if they are not here." She looked out over the ocean. "One time a slavegirl tired to bite one of the mistresses. She was flogged that night. Every time she passed out from the pain, she was awakened again. There was very little skin on her that was not marked and very sore indeed. Then, for almost four months, I had to whip her again every day. It was orders. I took her down to one of the dungeons every day in the middle of the afternoon and strung her up by her wrists. Then I let her hang for an hour before I came and whipped her bottom. Twenty strokes with the riding crop. Every day. Her bottom was very ugly. There was no skin that was not purple or black and blue. She could not sit down without crying out." Helga paused for a beat. "After two months a new order came down. I was to whip her bottom only every other day." She paused again. "On the alternate days I was to whip her breasts."
Linda ate in silence and Helga seemed content to watch the waves dancing against the rocks below them.
"What happened to that girl?" asked Linda finally. She knew that Helga was giving her a warning, but she wanted to know.
"She was taken out on the yacht one day by Helena. She did not come back."
"Didn't come back? You mean... No."
Helga raised one eyebrow. "I did not ask where Monie went to. She was no longer a slavegirl under my care."
"And was it Helena that she tried to bit?"
"You understand. Ja, it was Helena. She still has a small scar to this day to remember her slavegirl named Monie." Helga sighed. "A good guess, if one were to wish to guess about such things," she said, "is that Monie was a meal for the sharks."
Linda gulped. She knew these women had no respect for another person's freedom, and had suspected that they might not have much respect for life. Now she was sure.
Finishing the last of her steak, Linda put down the fork and sighed. "That was good. Thank you, Helga."
"You are welcome. Would you like to go to your cell?"
"My cell? Don't I get a bedroom?"
"Slavegirls sleep in a cell. Unless they are serving a mistress that night." Helga smiled at Linda and in that smile she saw an invitation.
"Helga... I was taken to Helena's bed many times... I am very good at pleasing another woman... "
"Do you like doing it?"
"I... Well, no. But that may be because the woman I had to serve is a woman I hate. I like you."
"And perhaps you would like to sleep in a comfortable bed instead of a barren cell?"
"Do the cells have warm, comfortable bed?" Linda knew the answer before she asked the question.
"Of course not." Helga gave Linda an unreadable stare for a few moments. "Well, come on. I was not given orders that I couldn't take you to bed with me. You will share my bed tonight. I hope you are as good as you claim. I don't like amateurs."
Linda smiled back. Helga seemed as if she could be a friend. Helga's bedroom was in a distant part of the castle, as Linda was prone to think of it, and she had to shuffle her way on joined ankles. Helga didn't seem to mind that their progress was very slow. And more than a little difficult when it came to the stairs. The bedroom, when they got there, was not as plush as Helena's back in California but it was nice and the bed was very large. Helga motioned to the bed then went to remove that slender leather bathing suit. Since the bathing suit had left little to the imagination, Linda was not surprised that Helga had a nice figure. Not spectacular but very nice with breasts of medium size but fine shape.
"Do I keep the handcuffs?" Linda asked hopefully.
"You stay chained. I cannot afford to trust any slavegirl." It was a simple declaration from Helga and Linda understood. They might like each other but she was the slavegirl and Helga, at least for tonight, was her mistress.
Their lips met in a gentle kiss, as first kisses often are. Then Helga took Linda's head in her hands and the kiss became more passionate, more demanding and more electric to the chained and naked slavegirl.
Their lovemaking was good and for the first time since she had been kidnapped, Linda actually enjoyed the contact of another woman's body. She was the one who had to do the sucking and tonguing, but she didn't mind. Helga took the tribute of Linda's tongue and mouth gratefully and seemed to enjoy it very much. Her orgasm was intense and Linda even got some satisfaction from having given such pleasure.
Afterwards, Helga dressed again and left Linda to find peace in slumber. But she attached a short chain to the middle link of those handcuffs around Linda's ankles. The chain was only about five feet long and keep Linda restricted to the bed. But she didn't mind. For the first time in what seemed ages she sleep peacefully.
She had not way of knowing how short this reprieve from torture would be.
CHAPTER TWELVE - STRANGLED PRISONER
It was a pleasure to awaken in the morning with only her wrists handcuffed behind her back and her ankles handcuffed together. Linda had been used to awaken from un-refreshing sleep with her arms tightly bound behind her back including the elbows roped together. She stretched and thought about going back to sleep for a little more much needed rest. It had been a terrible ordeal to be shipped half way around the world in that trunk. When Linda thought of that experience, it was with a shudder of fear that it might easily happen again, and with a smoldering ember of hate deep inside. One day revenge would be hers.
Helga was nowhere to be seen so Linda crawled to the edge of the big bed and swung her feet to the floor. The handcuffs on her ankles made the walking a little hard but she was getting used to it. Shuffling along, she made her way to a window she had not noticed the evening before. The view was one of rugged land with little in the way of vegetation. Rocks and sand dominated the early morning scene with a thin line of beach visible off to the left. Linda suspected all the bedrooms with an ocean view were reserved for members of the Hellfire Club. Helga, apparently being only hired help, rated a view of the desert.
It was a quiet world outside that window, not even the sound of birds breaking the silence. The bright sun gave promise of a hot day to come but the night chill still clung to the stones of the castle and in pools of shadow where the fingers of sunlight had not yet crawled. Linda inhaled deeply, enjoying the relative freedom of two pairs of handcuffs, plus the clean air far from dirty cities.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice from behind her. Linda turned quickly to find Helga standing there in a pair of deep blue slack and lighter blue blouse. The think material of the blouse clearly showed that she shunned bras. "I used to think I loved Paris, but there is something to be said for this wild land."
"It's an island, isn't it?" asked Linda.
"An island, yes. But a fair sized one. I think it is about ten square miles. Ah, yes, in case you're thinking along those lines, a girl could hide out there, among the rocks and sand. But not for long."
Linda, who had not been thinking of that, looked back to the desolate landscape. There was a the distance mummer of the ocean awakening itself. "I girl wouldn't last too long out there," she commented. "No food and probably nothing to drink."
Helga only smiled. "Wouldn't make much sense to escape to sure death, would it?"
It was Linda's turn to withhold comment.
'Time for breakfast," Helga said finally. "Come along." Breakfast was good, filling food, including a small steak to go along with the eggs and muffins. It was served by a small woman with olive features, perhaps thirty years old, and who seemed unconcerned that one of those she was serving was naked and chained. As she was finishing her food, Linda asked casually, "What is going to happen to me today?"
Helga looked over her coffee cup for a second before replying. "I got a phone call last night. Helena is mad at you."
'Tell me something I don't know."
"You are to be punished."
"How?"
"You'll see."
"That bad...?"
Helga said nothing.
"Wasn't being locked in that trunk for more than a whole day enough punishment? Hell, I only tried... Well, I was... Oh, hell, I tried to escape! What's so wrong with that?"
"A slavegirl does not try to escape," came the dry comment. "Hell. I'm not a slavegirl."
"That is where you are wrong. You are a slavegirl. Not a very well trained one, but a slave nevertheless. And you will be trained."
"And if I don't take to the training? So far my 'training' has been simply torturing me. Oh, and a little forced lesbian lovemaking."
"What we did last night was not good?"
"That's different. I like you. I wanted to do that to you. For you. Whatever. But back to my question. What if I just don't work out as a slavegirl? What if I never become obedient and submissive and all that other crap?"
Helga looked out over the ocean for a second before replying. "There are many sharks in these waters."
"Shit," said Linda under her breath.
"But don't worry," continued Helga. "Any girl can be broken and trained. The only real problem comes when a girl is broken too much. When she becomes a vegetable. The girls don't like that. They want a submissive and obedient slavegirl but one who is still a person."
"Any girl can be broken?"
"Any girl."
Linda finished her coffee. As she did, she told herself that she had made a mistake in talking openly about her not being submissive, about her not yet being "broken". The smart thing to do would be to pretend to be obedient. Then look for her chance.
"All right, let's get on with the torture," Linda said as she stood up. She spread her hands as far apart as the handcuffs would allow. "Do these stay on me?"
"For now. Technically I am not suppose to move your handcuffs to the front for meals. But I do get so tired of watching girls eat like dogs. Or having to feed them."
Helga led Linda from the patio back into the castle. They eventually came to another balcony on part of the castle jutting out over the ocean. There was a wooden beam sticking out of the wall over the balcony and projecting several feet beyond that. Attached to the bottom of the beam was a track and a small electric motor. A short chain hung from the motor's pulley.
"I'm going to unlock your handcuffs, Linda. Please don't make the mistake of trying something silly."
"Like throwing you off this balcony and running?"
"You couldn't do it. And, even if you did, where would you go? The only people on this island are the servants and the slavegirls. Where would you go?"
The question was too damned on the mark for Linda's comfort. This island was a prison and she a prisoner in it. With a sigh she offered her locked wrists, "Here, do as you will."
The shinning steel bracelets were replaced with rope. A dozen windings of the rope around her wrists were then cinched down with three wrappings around the other rope. The free end was then lifted up to the chain and tied there with half a dozen tight knots. Linda stood there with her wrists held up to the level of her face and hoped that she wouldn't be hoisted out to the end of that beam.
She was hoisted out to the end of the beam. First the motor pulled the chain up until she was standing on her tiptoes, arms stretched above her head. Then she was twelve inches off the stone floor, toes reaching in vain for support and wrists protesting having to take her entire weight.
"That's pretty tight on my wrists," she commented to Helga as the older girl was fetching some more rope.
Helga said nothing as she bound Linda's ankles tightly together. Then she lowered the naked girl back to the floor so she could reach her neck. "This is a slip loop," she said, showing Linda a thicker rope with a loop in it. She demonstrated how the loop would slide smaller or larger easily. Then she put the loop around Linda's neck. "If this rope is pulled on, the loop will tighten and you will strangle." She pressed a button and Linda was hoisted up again until her feet were well off the floor. Helga took the end of the rope hanging down from Linda's neck and passed it between her legs and around the ropes holding her ankles together. She then pulled on the rope with one hand while lifting the poor girl's feet with her other. When Linda's feet were about level with her knees, Helga tied the rope off with several tight knots. When she let go of the captive feet, Linda's legs tried to straighten out. That tightened the loop around her throat. Quickly she bent her legs to loosen the noose.
"I could strangle like this!" she protested.
"Not if you keep your legs bent. The loop only tightens when you lower your feet." Helga pressed the button again and Linda felt herself moving along the beam and over the edge of the balcony. In a few seconds she was suspended a couple hundred feet over jagged rocks and crashing surf.
"Helga, don't leave me like this! Helga! I'll strangle! Helga!"
Linda was almost screaming at the departing back of the woman she had thought she was coming to like. But now this! She gulped and hoped desperately that the Hellfire Club didn't really want to kill her.
At first it wasn't too hard to keep her knees bent and the noose around her neck slack. But human muscles cannot take any strain forever. Eventually the muscles in her thighs ached. Then they were burning. Finally they began to tremble from the strain.
The naked captive found that she could ease the strain a little if she allowed them to lower until the noose began cutting off the air supply to her lungs. A couple minutes of that then she bent her legs again and gasped with relief as the noose slackened. By varying the bend in her legs she could the muscle fatigue that threatened her very life.
And the sickening drop beneath her wasn't too easy to take, either. In a way, the rope from her ankles to her neck was a blessing--it kept her from worrying about being suspended so far above those sharp rocks below.
Linda found that if she titled her head back as far as it would go, she could get a little more slack in the rope. But it wasn't easy on a girl and more than once she found herself feeling a little faint. She fought that off with a savage jerk up of her feet and tilting her head down towards her chest. To faint while bound in this position would mean death.
There came a time when the muscles, no matter how much she willed them to bend, refused to obey her mental orders. Her feet lowered and Linda gasped as the noose tightened about her slender neck. She had grown horse from crying out for Helga to save her and little was left of her voice now. Slowly the rope tightened, clutching her neck in its deadly embrace and squeezing until breathing was almost impossible and Linda's vision began to grow black at the edges.
Suddenly she felt something hard hit her knees and feet. The noose slackened and she sucked in great lungfuls of blessed air. She was back on the balcony with Helga standing over her. The noose was being taken off her neck.
"You were right, Linda," Helga offered in a friendly tone. "They don't want you killed. It think Helena ordered this punishment mainly as a lesson. Yes, a lesson in what might be." Linda didn't argue. She was sure she had come very close to exiting this slave training program in the most undesirable manner possible.
With the noose removed, Helga again hoisted Linda up until her feet were above the edge of the balcony. Then she was moving to the end of the beam again. "This time you can enjoy the view without distraction," offered Helga. "Enjoy!"
Linda muttered a curse under her breath about sarcastic jailers.
One look down at her bound ankles was enough to convince her that she really didn't want to do that. But fifteen or twenty minutes later she found her gaze drifting downward again, as if drawn by a force stronger than herself.
The scene far below her bare feet was one of gray rocks, blue water and white foam. The hiss of the waves was loud in her ears and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. But she had been distracted by a rope trying to strangle her, she told herself. What a way to remove a slavegirl from this world, Linda thought. To make her strangle herself with the weight of her own exhausted legs. Linda shivered and remembered what Helga had said about that one girl who pissed off Helena and was taken for a one-way swim with the sharks. With a morbid fascination, Linda wondered if the girl had been bound up when she was tossed into the water or if she had been left free to try and swim for her life. With the feeling of that rope still around her neck, Linda decided that the poor girl must have been tightly bound up. She could not see Helena giving any kind of chance to a slavegirl.
In the afternoon the breeze came up and Linda swayed at the end of her rope as the wooden beam creaked. The naked girl prayed that the ropes and wood would hold. While she was at it, she prayed that the next time she met Helena, it was Helena who was naked and bound painfully tight with barbed wire. And that she had a flame-thrower in her hands.
Such fantasies of revenge helped passed the long hours.
When, in the late afternoon, Linda was pulled back in, her hands were totally without feeling and an ugly dark color. But a minute after the rope came off the pricking of returning circulation started. Shortly after that rolling around on the stone floor, holding her arms tight against her chest while crying with the agony of nerves awakening.
After a bath and dinner, she was again handcuffed at the ankles and wrists, and taken to Helga's bed. Their lovemaking was slew and really very pleasant for both of them. Linda found herself enjoying the pleasure she was giving to her jailer, feeling a strange sense of power that she could make another girl so excited and intensely satisfied with just her mouth and tongue while her hands remained locked behind her back. Before they fell asleep, Helga pushed her slavegirl over on to her back, lifted her legs into the air, then forced her head between those thighs to lash Linda's sex into a surprisingly quick and very satisfying orgasm.
They slept in each other arms.
"Helena's coming tomorrow."
Helga's announcement caught Linda by surprised. The lovely and very naked slavegirl of the Hellfire Club was being bound into a ball when her mistress' statement made her jerk her head up. The reason was quite simple: she feared the punishment Helena was sure to administer for her attempted escape. 'Tomorrow?" was all that Linda could manage to say.
"Tomorrow," repeated Helga. "She and some of the other members are coming here because it's been raining in California."
"Imagine that-change your home just because of a little rain."
"When you're rich... " Helga let the sentence trail off as she knotted the end of a rope.
Linda's current bondage had begun when her arms were bound behind her back right after breakfast. The elbows were lashed together as is the Hellfire custom when a girl is not to enjoy her bondage. Then her legs were bound at the ankles and above the knees. Then she was put in a kneeling position on one of the padded tables in one of the many rooms deep within the castle. Her neck was encircled with a wide leather collar with a ring in front under her chin. A metal snap was attached to that ring and the other end snapped to the cinch ropes around her knees, but only after she had been forced to bend over until her chin touched her knees. There was just enough slack so she could raise her chin off her knees but only by an inch or so. Helga then tied rope to her ankles and up to her wrists. That was passed back and forth a couple times then pulled until her arms were firmly held down and, even if she were rolled on her side, her legs could not be unfolded. It was not a comfortable position but what worried Linda was how long she would have to stay in it. She was sure that it would grow more and more uncomfortable until it would be pure torture. When asked, Helga would not tell her, but when ropes were tied from her upper arms down to rings at the sides of the table she was sure it would be a long time. Those ropes had the effect of holding her in place. She couldn't have rolled on her side even if she wanted. And they made the whole position much more tight.
"Helga, please don't leave me like this all day," begged Linda sincerely. "I'm hurting already and it will get much worse."
"You got that right, sweetie. A position like that becomes very uncomfortable after a few hours. It's a case where the bondage itself become the punishment. Helena once had me bind a girl like this for two whole days."
'Two whole days?"
"Yes. She couldn't move her arms or legs for a long time, poor thing. But she did obey Helena after that."
"I wonder why? But, look, Helga, you don't have to leave me very long like this... Do you? I mean, what would Helena know if you were to release me after only a few hours?"
"Then you would have been punished as Helena ordered," said Helga very matter-of-factly. "You will spend more than two hours like you are."
"Helga, I'll be in pain."
"I know."
"But, Helga, I thought you liked me."
"I do, sweetie. But I like my job here more. Besides," she added with a smile, "who said I don't enjoy torturing you?"
Helga leaned down and kissed Linda's cheek. The naked and bound girl turned her head to meet those lips and for a long time the two girls kissed very passionate, indeed. When Helga broke it off, she said nothing but quickly fled the room.
Linda tested the ropes holding her prisoner and the awkward position they held her in. There was no slack, no give, no loose ropes, no knots where her fingers could reach them. Helga knew what she was doing and did it very well. Linda would stay there until Helga returned to free her. And her back and shoulders were already hurting.
The day was long and the girl bound on the table top suffered. The ropes were tight and cut into her soft flesh. The bend double position grew more and more uncomfortable as hours slowly crawled by. The naked girl strained and pulled but the ropes held her very securely and she could only free herself by literally breaking the ropes themselves, an impossible task for this prisoner.
She cried out for help, then moaned, then screamed out her anger, pain and frustration. Then she cried, the tears drawing traces down her knees and onto the leather padding of the table top. And when she could find no more tears to cry, she closed her eyes and dreamed of revenge. They were sweet dreams in which Helena and all the other members of the Hellfire Club were tortured endlessly before Linda's approving eyes. She imaged each torment as it was applied. She saw the fear and pain in each of the girl's eyes as their bodies were stretched until joints popped and muscles tore. She laughed in her dreams as they screamed for mercy under red hot irons. And she smiled to herself as their broken and mangled bodies were bound into impossibly tight balls and tossed into the ocean for the hungry sharks to dine upon.
Helga came in to find Linda asleep. The naked slavegirl awoke as she began to remove the ropes from her upper arms to the table sides.
"Helga...?" Linda managed. "Oh, Helga, please untie me. I hurt so much."
, "I know, darling, I know." Helga sounded genuinely sorry about Linda's suffering. "I'll have you out in a few minutes. Then we'll get you into a nice bath and a good dinner."
Linda sighed. When her body was finally unfolded legs and back ached and would not obey. Her arms hung limp and unmoving for a long time. When all the ropes were off, Helga locked a pair of handcuffs on unresisting wrists behind the back of the naked girl. She didn't bother with handcuffs on the ankles, the prisoner could hardly walk, even with help.
The bath was wonderful and Linda sighed with relief as her body was lowered into the hot, bubbly water. The dinner that followed was also wonderful, fresh local lobster and baked potatoes served on the balcony with a view of the setting sun. Linda was starting to feel almost human and was rapidly forgetting that it was Helga who had put her into painful bondage punishment long hours before.
"The sunsets here are beautiful," Linda said. "I could get to like this place... Well, except for one little thing, of course."
"You mean that you're a slavegirl?" Helga said but with a smile.
"Yes. Yes, indeed. That I'm a slavegirl who is owned, keep in constant restraints, punished every day and tortured every other day. And I don't know when that will every end. Do you?"
"Don't be bitter, Linda. Things could be worse."
"Worse! How?"
"Don't ask."
Linda was taken back by the reply and the sincere look on Helga's face. "Have things been worse for some of the slavegirl?"
"Yes. But you don't want to know about that. Some of the members of the Hellfire Club are more sadistic than others."
"That's a little hard to believe when you consider what Helena has done to me already."
"You haven't met Olga."
"Olga?"
"Don't get on the bad side of Olga. She's mean."
Linda continued her meal in silence for a while. It was hard to conceive of a woman meaner than Helena had been to her. She had been tortured, kept in pain for hours on end, even threatened with a flogging. It was at that thought that Linda suddenly realized what Helga was trying to tell her. All those punishments she had so far endured were painful but they didn't do any permanent damage. No flesh was cut, no bones broken, no joints ripped apart. Sure, some of the punishments had been hell, but she was still whole, still healthy, still alive.
"Helena will be her soon," Helga advised. "Tomorrow morning."
Linda didn't say anything for a while. "Is she serious about flogging me?" she finally asked.
"I'm afraid so."
"Has she done that before?"
"Yes."
"That's incredible! How can a girl live through an actual flogging? I mean, we are talking about a real whipping with a real whip, aren't we? About thirty or forty or fifty strokes? That would kill a girl!"
"You won't die." Helga's comment was sincere. "It may feel like you will, but you won't. A girl's body can take an incredible amount of pain and still live."
"Shit!"
"Linda, I'm not one of the Hellfire girls. I'm just hired help. You can talk to me openly and I won't take offense. But you had better watch your tongue with club members. You would be sentenced to some pretty terrible punishment for some of the things you've just said."
"Sorry. I don't mean any disrespect to you. And I'll try to watch my tongue."
The dinner was finished and the dishes taken away by a serving girl. For a while the girls watched the sky turning shades of pink and orange and the first stares peeking through.
"Well, now what? You take me to a dungeon and chain me to the wall?"
"I'm suppose to. But I think I'll take you someplace more fun." Linda smiled. She didn't really consider herself a lesbian but she did like Helga and felt a strange sort of power from being able to drive another girl into spasms of ecstasy with her tongue. It was a little like the way she used to manipulate her male clients, to excite them with her body and play with them. But a lot different.
They went to Helga's bedroom where Linda was restricted only by the handcuffs, and those still on in front of her the way they had been to allow her to eat dinner. Their lovemaking was beautiful, slow, sensuous and very pleasurable. Linda was learning how to please another woman and that it was very different when you loved the other girl from when you were forced under threat of pain. After her orgasm, Helga forced Linda down to the bed, spread her legs wide, and roughly screwed the slavegirl with a huge dildo. Linda gasped and shuddered but loved every second of it. When she came to climax, she clamped her long legs around Helga and cried out.
Afterwards Helga led the satisfied Linda down to a dungeon and chained her to the wall as she had been ordered to do. Linda didn't mind.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - THE TERRIBLE PAIN OF A FLOGGING
Linda was in the dungeon cell, properly chained to the wall by a neck collar and short chain with her hands locked firmly in handcuffs behind her back and her ankles also joined by the shining steel bracelets. Helena looked her over before saying a word.
"Today you will be flogged," she announced grandly. "You will be taken into the big room and strung up by your wrists. Then you will be flogged with a whip before the other slaves. It will be a good lesson to them. A slavegirl does not try to escape."
The dark hair beauty turned on her heel and left the naked and chained girl to contemplate her fate.
Linda sighed and tried not to think about it. She had endured a lot of pain ever since answering that stupid letter and getting herself caught. But to be flogged was something else. She didn't now what it entailed and didn't want to. There was an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Helga came for her later. But it was not for breakfast. Her wrists were unlocked then bound in front of her with rope. Her ankles were unlocked and the collar was taken off. With Helga's hand upon her arm, she was led to the place of her punishment.
It was, indeed, a big room, measuring a good forty by forty feet. There were windows but they were high up and offered no view of the outside although they did admit sunlight. There were various punishment devices scattered around but Linda did not have the time or inclination to study them. She was led to a low, round platform next to one wall. To her left she saw the other slavegirls that had been promised. They were bound to steel posts that were set solidly in the concrete floor and into the ceiling. Each was about three inches wide and made a very solid pillar for holding a girl. There were half a dozen of them but only two held girls. Each girl was naked, each was bound with her arms behind the post and a ropes around their bodies and legs holding them immobile. Linda didn't see any gags but noted that the girls did not say a word to each other or to her.
Behind the platform on which she was placed there was a selection of whips hanging from pegs on the wall. Linda didn't like the look of them but had little time to study the array of pain instruments. Her hands were taken by Helga and a rope tied around them. The other end of the rope disappeared into a hole in the ceiling. Helga used a button on the wall to activate the hidden motor and raise the rope. Linda felt herself slowly lifted until her toes were half a dozen inches off the floor. The ropes bit into her wrists but that pain didn't concern her. Now that the time for her promised flogging was near her resolve was crumbling, being replaced by fear. She looked to Helga for comfort or reassurance but found none in the eyes of her only friend.
The naked slavegirl was allowed to hang for a long time before Helena put in her appearance. Probably the delay was to make the slavegirl about to be whipped suffer anticipation. Unless it was as with a party and Helena wanted to be "fashionably late."
Selecting a whip from the selection on the wall, Helena turned to face her slave. "This slave has tried to escape," she pronounced in a loud voice. "She will be punished."
That was all. No fanfare, no reading of violations and charges beyond that simple statement. And no warning as the first stroke of that black leather horror slashed across her back half way between shoulders and bottom.
Linda gasped and couldn't breath for a few seconds. Her body arched in mid-air then jerked. The pain was incredible, far worse than anything she had every felt in her life. Her scream, when it came, was full-voiced and very sincere. That cry of pain echoed off the stone walls until it died away into gasping and moaning. Linda hadn't believed that there could be so much pain in the world.
"No! Oh, please, no! That's awful! Please...!"
Her cries went unheeded. The second stroke landed across her bottom and left a red line where the leather had kissed the soft girl flesh. Again Linda screamed. Her legs danced in mid-air as an expression of the agony within. The third stroke came before she had time to catch her breath and slashed across her left hip.
Helena waited until the scream died down before approaching the hanging girl. She tilted Linda's tear- streaked face up with the whip that she might be able to look directly into her eyes. In the slavegirl's eyes she saw pain and fear, plenty of fear. In Helena's bright eyes, Linda saw delight in sadistic cruelty. There was no hatred-this woman wasn't getting even, wasn't seeking revenge for some wrong. She simply enjoyed seeing another girl suffer pain, and that was all there was to it.
Linda saw that and knew a terrible fear inside her. For the first time she really believed that this woman was capable of whipping her until she died from the flogging. With Helena's face only inches from hers, Linda whispered to her punisher, "You might break my body but you'll never break my spirit."
She didn't know why she said it. Perhaps she thought she was going to die as she hung there and the flesh was stripped from her body. Perhaps she wanted to anger the woman with the whip so that she would expend her emotions out in quickly rather than in a long, slow torture. But whatever the reason, it had little effect on the haughty mistress. "We shall see," was all she said. Then she slashed the whip across the front of Linda's thighs.
Helena varied the timing so Linda didn't know when to expect the next cut. She moved around, selecting a different target for each agonizing stroke of the braided leather thong. Before long the hanging nudity was covered with a web work of thin red lines, some already turning to purples and shades of dark blue. No part of the girl's body was spared. Whip marks criss-crossed her bottom and thighs both in front and back. From her shoulders to her bottom a dozen strokes marked her back. And half a dozen marks crossed her breasts. It was those strokes that had caused the loudest screams of all as the tortured girl thought her lovely breasts were being cut to ribbons.
Helena enjoyed every minute of the flogging, her eyes bright with excitement, her breath coming in pants, and her nipples hard under the thin fabric of her blouse. Finally, during a pause in the whipping, she almost ripped her blouse off. "Helga!" she shouted. "Untie that one and bring her here!" As Helga hurried to obey, Helena delivered another fiery slash across the junction of Linda's bottom and thighs. With a great cry of desperation, the bound girl lashed out with her bare feet, kicking at anything and everything, connecting with nothing. It was an exercise in frustration but one that the punished mind of the hanging girl had to do. She pleaded and begged and offered anything if the pain would only stop, if only that stroke were the last one. But it was not to be.
Helga had quickly untied one of the two slavegirls and dragged her to the feet of Mistress Helena. The slave was a young redhead, hardly half way through her teens, and trembling with fear. Helena dropped the whip and pulled down her leather pants. With the pants still around one ankles, she spread her legs wide and pointed to her exposed pussy. Helga understood and with a handful of the teenager's hair, guided her face to Helena's sex. Kneeling between the cruel mistress' legs, the slavegirl began licking with an experienced tongue. Helena sucked in air and raised the whip above her head.
The leather thong slashed across Linda's breasts, evoking yet another scream. And then again, before the first scream had died away. Then she tossed the whip to Helga and grabbed the back of the teenage slavegirl's head with both hands. Helga took the whip and hung it on the wall. She selected a broad leather strap and quickly repositioned herself behind Linda. With the first stroke of the wide strap across her already sore and tender bottom, Linda went wild. Her legs jerked and she screamed. The wide strap didn't leave much of a mark by itself but it made all the others scream out their own pain again.
On the fifth stroke of the strap across Linda's ass, Helena came to an intense climax with a small cry of delight. She clamped the slavegirl's face to her sex and arched her hips until the orgasm spent out it's most intense part. Then she pushed away the youthful head and kicked the naked slavegirl aside.
"Bind the to the post again and leave them all for a few hours to think about what happens when a slavegirl tries to escape," she ordered. Then she pulled up her pants, and strode imperially from the room.
Helga tossed the whip aside and went to rebind the teenager to the post. It took her ten minutes and the girl did not offer any resistance. When both the other slavegirls were again tightly bound to their posts, she turned her attention to the hanging girl.
Linda was hanging limp, only her breathing and occasional tremors in her legs muscles betraying that she was still alive.
"I told you you would live through a flogging," she said quietly.
Linda slowly raised her head and opened her eyes. They were red from crying and reflected the helplessness and hopelessness within the girl. "Is it over," she managed to whisper.
"It's over."
"How... How many?"
"Forty-seven."
Linda groaned.
"I've seen worse," Helga said. "And you don't look too bad."
"Am I bleeding badly?"
"Not at all. You're marked up good and those marks will take weeks to fade away. But you're not cut."
"My breasts, they feel like they're on fire. And my bottom."
"Understandable." Helga gently touched the hanging girl's face and felt wetness from tears. "I have to go now. I'll be back in a couple hours."
"Please let me down. Please don't go."
"I have to. Orders. You'll be alright."
Linda groaned again and closed her eyes. Helga sighed and turned to leave. She paused at the door to look back at the limp form of the most lovely slavegirl to ever come to Rainbow's End. Then she was gone, leaving behind three naked young woman, all bound and helpless, one exhausted and aching all over.
Sitting down on the hard wooden bench in her cell was an experience in pain for a couple days after her flogging. And parts of her body were sore and tender for longer than that. But the worst part was the memory of the terrible, unbearable pain. She had never experienced such pain in her life and hoped she never would. The mental state created while being flogged was something that frightened her, something that would never have thought possible. Her entire world reduced to that awful leather whip and the next shocking pain it would create. Nothing else mattered except to stop that horrible pain. And she couldn't. Thrashing her body around had done no good, pleading and begging had done no good, and offering her body, her very soul had apparently done no good. Or perhaps that was simply what Helena expected.
Linda was a different girl after that flogging. She was ready to be obedient, less willing to risk another such punishment. She resolved not to give anyone the excuse to do that again to her. Yet... Yet, in a tiny portion of her mind there burned a spark of rebellion, a desire for revenge, a thirst for freedom. Perhaps that spark would one day die, maybe after another flogging, or perhaps with a few years of constant captivity and almost daily punishments. But still it persisted and was not driven from this proud woman.
Outwardly Linda became a good slavegirl. She obeyed and didn't utter a single word of protest when she was placed in the stocks, the pillory, or taken to bed by Helena. The latter was especially uncomfortable for Linda. She had not wish to give pleasure and sexual satisfaction to a woman she hated. But she did, and did it as well as she could, so strong was her fear of another flogging. It was galling after having experience pleasurable lesbian sex with Helga to have to service this sadistic woman. But she did. A slavegirl has to survive.
Oddly, this newly submissive slavegirl still found herself reacting in strangely thrilling ways to some of the bondage and punishments she was put into. Each time she was bound in a new way, each time she was left alone in some punishment device, she found herself experiencing a warm feeling in her pussy. And it was more than just a little sexual excitement, there was a fascination with the situation she found herself in. If she was standing in the pillory, her neck and wrists locked firmly in the wooden yoke, she would wonder how long a girl could stand in that device before she would go crazy. She would wonder what the effect would be of lowering the yoke part a few inches to make the girl bend over a little more. Or a lot more. She wondered about including a yoke in the platform of the pillory to hold the ankles so the prisoner could only wiggle her bottom. And she found herself wondering if that pretty, lively teenager Melody had ever been restrained like she was, or what Melody might say if she was to try it.
Six days after the flogging, Helena made a decision. Linda had been properly submissive and obedient and she was sure that this new slavegirl had learned her lesson. Linda was taken off a schedule of daily punishments. Instead she was keep restrained in a set of lovely wrist and ankle irons and allowed a certain amount of freedom to roam Rainbow's End.
The shackles were slender, silver colored and surprisingly attractive to Linda. They joined her wrists in front of her body with twelve inches of silvery chain and allowed her ankles to separate up to eighteen inches. There was also a chained that was attached to the middle link of her wrist chain and to the middle link of her ankle chain. When standing, that third chain prevented her hands from raising above the level of her waist. She had to sit down to scratch her nose. But she quickly became used to these simply restrains and was grateful for them. At least compared to the elbows touching bondage she had been in almost daily during the first two weeks of captivity. She remembered how much she had hurt while spending all night with elbows bound together after having her first lesbian lovemaking lessons from Helena. These chains were nearly freedom by comparison.
And relations with Helga changed. No longer did she share the bed of the only person she had come to think of as a friend. Perhaps strange to some people's way of thinking, but she never considered Helga to be responsible for the tortures she had put Linda through. She had only been obeying orders. But with Helena in residence, Helga did not dare to take Linda to her bed at night. For one thing, about half the nights Linda was to be found serving her mistress with tongue and mouth. And apparently Helga dared not use Linda on those nights when Helena preferred one of the other slavegirls over Linda. Instead, Linda spent those night in a iron-barred cell with her neck chained to a large ringbolt in the wall. Not that she could have broken out of the cell even if her neck had not been collared and chained.
A couple weeks passed, then a month. Time had little meaning at Rainbow's End and Linda began to think this was going to be her entire life. It was not a good prospect to think she would be keep in constant restrictions, even if only those sliver chains, used as sexual playthings by women she didn't love, and occasionally punished. And there was that ever-present threat of flogging or other serious torture hanging over her head. Linda was not happy but at least not in the almost constant pain that had been her first two weeks as a prisoner of the Hellfire Club.
Then came Olga.
Helga had warned her about his woman, saying that she was more sadistic in her ways than Helena. Linda had doubted that. Helena was the woman who had tortured her, locked her into a trunk for over a day while she was shipped across the oceans to Rainbow's End, and whose hand had held the whip that marked her skin front and back. This Olga just couldn't be worse.
She was tall, over six foot. She was strong, resembling a gymnast in muscle development. But no gymnast every towered over six feet, that was sport for tiny girls. Olga had dark hair, cut in a style long out of the vogue, something from the fifties called a page-boy. Her eyes were dark, almost black, her lips thin and unsmiling. She wore red leather jumpsuit that clung to her good figure like a second skin. And she wore a riding crop from a loop at her belt.
Linda had been on a balcony looking out at the sea, wondering how far it might be to the nearest island or mainland when she first met Olga. The taller girl had walked up silently behind her and had been studying her naked and chained form for a few seconds before Linda became aware of a presence.
"Go ahead," Olga said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Go ahead and jump into the ocean. Perhaps you can swim even with those chains on. Probably, you're young and healthy. And perhaps you could reach an island. There are some. But they are many miles away. And most are as barren and uninhabited as this one."
"I wasn't thinking about jumping in," said Linda defensively.
"Every girl wonders at some time or another if she could escape that way. The only escape would be to the sharks. There are many of them and they are very hungry."
Either of them said anything for a while. They just stood there looking each other over. Linda could read no approval or disapproval in those dark eyes. It was she who finally broke the silence.
"My name is Linda, Mistress."
"I know. You may call me Mistress Olga. Or just Mistress will do."
The accent was vaguely Slavic and not pronounced. This woman could have come from any number of countries from middle Europe to the steps of central asia. Linda wasn't sure what to say or do, but she felt she had to say something. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mistress Olga," she said, trying to sound sincere.
"You won't be," came the simple reply. When Linda did not say anything, Olga went on, "I love to hurt girls. The more pain the better. I love to see the anguish in their eyes. I love to watch them struggle to escape the pain." Between each sentence she paused as if composing the next one.
"Oh." It sounded like a stupid thing to say but it was all Linda could come out with.
"I will start on you this evening. You are beautiful. Your body is beautiful. It will give me much satisfaction to hear you scream."
Linda said nothing.
"I see you have been whipped. Helena's marks."
"Will you whip me?"
"No. I will let your marks heal. There are many other ways to make a girl suffer. I suggest you get some rest this afternoon. Tonight you will not sleep well."
Suddenly Olga turned and was gone, leaving Linda bewildered and a little scared. She tired to tell herself that this woman was just playing mental games with her, that the threats were just for the psychological effect. But then why had Helga warned her against this woman? Linda had a bad feeling about this.
The evening meal was uneventful and as all the meals at Rainbow's End, delicious. Afterwards Helga took Linda down into the dungeon area of the castle and into the big room where she had been flogged. No one was present, no slavegirls to observe Linda's torture, and no Olga. Helga locked a short chain to her wrist shackles and the other end to a ring in one wall. Then she left.
It was a long time before Olga came in, almost two hours, but Linda had stood there in fear and anxiety. The first thing the mistress did was to stand before Linda and put her hand around the slender throat. She was pushed back against the wall and could feel the strength in that hand. It did not choke off her air but she knew it easily could.
"Do not try to fight me. You will be punished but if you fight it will be much worse. Much worse."
Linda believed and nodded her head.
Without another word, Olga unlocked the shackles so that Linda stood there naked but unfettered. She glanced towards the door but did not break for it. She was sure that Olga would prevail.
Her wrists were bound with rope, palm to palm, in front of her. Then her ankles were bound together. Linda was made to sit on the edge of a device that looked very much like an ancient rack while the ankles were bound. Then Olga tied her thumbs together with very thin but strong cord. There was several feet of the cord left hanging down after the last knots were tied, and Linda didn't like what this suggested.
"You won't do any damage, will you?" she asked. "I mean. I've been hurt aplenty but no real damage."
"I promise nothing."
Linda swallowed hard. Her big toes were then tied with the same kind of thin cord as her thumbs. And again a couple feet of the cord was left hanging down. Linda was ordered to stand which she did uneasily. Then she was ordered to hop over until she stood under the pulley that she had been hanging from when she was flogged. Olga lowered the pulley until a bare chain was at the level of Linda's face. The cord from her thumbs was taken and strung through the last link of the chain. Then it went back down to the thumbs, around the cord joining them, and back through the link. This was done several times so that the chain was solidly joined to her thumb bondage. The knots were tied to the ropes at her wrists where her fingers would never reach them.
"If you hang me by my thumbs like this, I'm sure there will be considerable damage done to them. A girl's thumbs are just not meant to take all her weight."
Olga said nothing.
The button was pushed and the hidden motor in the ceiling pulled the chain up. Linda's hands rose above her head. The cord about the innocent thumbs tightened until it was digging in and hurting. Then the motor stopped with her standing on her toes to ease the strain.
Olga inspected the tautly stretched body. If she felt pleasure at the sight of Linda's nudity so presented, she did not show it on her face. Olga fetched a length of chain, then knelt down and took the cord connected to her big toes and tied the end to the chain in a similar manner to that of her thumbs. The free end of that chain she took to the nearest wall and passed it through a large ring at the height of her head.
When Olga pulled on the chain, Linda felt her toes slide out from under her. She gasped as all her weight was taken on her thumbs but had little time to protest. The chain was pulled and Linda's legs were lifted up behind her. Soon the chain to her feet was as taut as Olga could make it. She took a padlock and locked the chain to itself. Then she walked over to her prisoner.
Linda was stretched out at shoulder level, all her weight taken by her bound thumbs and toes. Her body was not parallel to the floor but at an incline. "This hurts," she said through clenched teeth.
"It is suppose to," was the matter-of-fact reply. "It will get worse."
Linda had no doubt of that. "You'll hurt me. I mean, you'll injure my thumbs. They feel like they're being cut in two. And they bum and hurt. Please, Mistress Olga, don't leave me like this."
Olga lightly flicked one hanging nipple with her fingernail.
Linda groaned. The bondage position was bad enough, but to have her breasts tortured too...
Olga left the room, ignoring the pleas of the naked girl. A few minutes later she returned, carrying something in her hands. She gently stroked one nipples but didn't have to do much work to get it rigid and swollen, it was already pretty much in that condition. Around that nipple she placed a circle of metal with a small screw on it. The screw was turned and the inside of the metal circle closed around the tender flesh. Soon Linda was moaning with the pain of a tightly squeezed nipple. The process was repeated with the other nipple.
The pain in her nipples was nothing compared to that in her thumbs, but it was enough to make her constantly aware of it and to wish very sincerely that those metal clamps were not there.
Olga studied the clamped nipples and flicked them. That made them hurt a little more but nothing compared to the pain that shot through her breast when Olga took one clamp and twisted hard. Linda emitted a short scream.
"Oh, that hurts! It's terrible! Please stop," she pleaded. "I can't stand that."
"You will."
"Oh, Mistress Olga, haven't you hurt me enough? I'm really afraid my thumbs will be damaged. Wouldn't you like to have me service you in bed?"
Olga snorted. "You are servicing me now." Then she twisted the other nipple. Linda screamed again. She jerked her body to get the offended nipple away but that only made her thumbs and toes scream with agony.
"Struggling only makes it hurt worse," Olga commented dryly. "But go ahead. I enjoy watching it" Olga again left the room and Linda didn't bother to plead. If she was to be left alone with suffering thumbs and toes, that would be better than being suffering the additional torture on her nipples. But Olga returned again a few minutes later, again with something in her hand.
With one hand she parted Linda's pussy lips, exposing her clit and part of her vagina. Then she pushed a slender metal rod into that vagina. The rod was attached to a larger handle and had a button on it. 'This is an electrical stimulus device I had made," Olga announced. "It delivers a small electric charge. Only a few volts and very low current. But it creates a most interesting effect."
Linda started to say, "Don't do that," in real fear but the sentence was cut off when the button was pressed. The electric shock was sudden, painful, and surprisingly intense. Linda's body jerked instinctively away. "Oh, no! Please don't do that!" she screamed at her sadistic mistress.
Olga had been expecting the jerk and had moved her hand with it so that the electrical prod was still inside Linda's vagina, even more deeply than before. The shock had lasted only a second but left Linda's sex tingling and the bound and naked girl in a terrible state of mind. She pleaded and pleaded, begging Olga not to press the button again. Olga pressed it.
This time Linda screamed. "That's burning up my sex," she cried after the scream. "It's destroying my sex!"
"Nonsense," said Olga. "It only feels like that. Most girls survive it. Most cunts, I mean. It is very effective."
Effective wasn't the word Linda was thinking. This torture was as bad as the flogging but in a different way. The pain was something else, equally horrible, even more mentally punishing than a simple leather whip across her skin.
Olga played with her helpless and hanging slavegirl for a long time. It seemed all night to Linda, as the pain from her thumbs and toes merged with that in her nipples and pussy to turn her whole world into a haze of agony. Each time Olga pressed the button the shock was as bad as the first time. And Olga made sure not to overload the sensitive nerves in that place. One time she withdrew the metal probe to show Linda how wet it was with her secretions but Linda didn't care. Back it went into the moist tunnel to again stab at the unfortunate slavegirl's sex. A while later, Olga again withdrew the probe. But this time she parted Linda's vagina lips with one hand to rub the probe against her clit. She rubbed gently until Linda was moaning. It was hard to tell if the girl was suffering or in the grip of an orgasm. Then Olga pressed the button.
Linda's body when rigid and arched backwards, intentionally or otherwise pushing her sex against the metal probe. She screamed and trembled all over. For an eternity Olga held the button down. Or perhaps it was only three seconds. To the bound girl it was an eternity.
Finally Olga withdrew the metal probe and stood back to watch. Linda shuttered all over. Moans escaped her lips, but of pleasure or pain one could not tell. Tremors raced through her body as it hung limp and swaying in tortured thumbs and toes. Her head hung down, her long hair reaching for the floor.
For a long time Olga watched, savoring the terrible position Linda was in, knowing that she had just endured electric shocks through the most sensitive nerves in her body, knowing that her thumbs were screaming agony at her, and that her nipples were being crushed and felt on fire. This was pure enjoyment for the mistress and she loved it. But still she did not smile.
For a while Linda hung motionless after her body stopped trembling. Olga went to her and put her face near the tortured girl's. "How was it?" she asked. "Was it pain or orgasm?"
Linda slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head. It took her a long time to focus her eyes and thoughts. Finally she whispered, "I don't know."
Olga's only reply was to tease one clamped nipple with the end of the electric rod.
"Please don't," asked Linda with very little emotion. "Please don't."
Olga held the end of the probe an inch away from the engorged nipple and pressed the button. Nothing happened. Then she very slowly brought the mental closer. When the distance was halved, a spark shot out from the metal of the probe to the metal of the clamp. Olga was rewarded with a scream.
"My breast is on fire! OH! Oh, no!"
When the naked girl calmed down, she repeated the process with the other nipple, forcing Linda to hold her body still by threat of shocking her clit again instead of the nipple. Again the naked girl screamed and jerked her body around helplessly.
"Oh, my breasts... My breasts... " Linda moaned over and over.
Olga suddenly shoved the probe up against Linda's clit and pressed the button. The scream that followed was terrible and echoed off the stone walls. But it died away as the slavegirl went limp, head hanging down. Olga placed the electric shock device on the rack and sighed deeply. The wonderful part, she knew, was that this healthy young girl would be ready for the same torture in a day or so, her pussy and breasts being none the worse for their experience. And there were other tortures she would put this lovely creature through. Many other tortures...
When Linda returned to conscious, she found herself back in her cell. She was hogtied with elbows together, legs tightly bound and doubled back to her hands. Her thumbs hurt terribly and the ropes were tight to the point of pain, but it was like being home again to be tied like this. And a hell of a lot better than hanging by her thumbs and toes. She easily drifted off to sleep, noting as she did that her pussy ached in a strange way.
Linda teetered on the high heels and almost fell to the rocky ground. From behind her came the sharp crack of the small black, single thonged whip Olga held, followed immediately by a flash of fiery pain in her bottom. Linda sucked in her breather and concentrated upon walking on the rock-strewn path along the cliff top. To her left the dark blue waters leaped upon the rugged shoreline about a hundred feet down the almost shear cliff face. To her right the land was flat for a ways, mostly rocks and sand. The castle of Rainbow's End was behind them by half a mile. The sun had finished only half it's climb towards zenith but the air was already hot.
Linda clenched her hands together and concentrated on one step at a time. Her arms had been left as they were for the whole night, tightly bound behind her back with the elbows cruelly together. Her shoulders and arms ached terribly from the strict bondage but there was no end in sight.
Helga had been the one who untied her legs from the hogtie she had slept in, but it was Olga who had come for her after breakfast, wicked little black whip attached to her belt and a pair of black leather high heels with ankle straps. The heels were the highest Linda had ever wore, at least five inches, and difficult enough to walk on if the floor was hard and level. If it was sandy and rocky, it was next to impossible to walk without loosing one's balance almost every step. Linda had fallen down many times after leaving the big stone castle, and been forced to struggle to her feet each time by the sting of the whip used upon her still sore and marked body. Olga was an expert at picking a spot of unmarked skin and delivering a sharp explosion of pain right there. Not that she was against delivering fresh pain directly upon a sore and tender spot left over from the flogging at Helena's hands.
The path had turned harder as they left the castle and that made her steps easier, but still not a walk in the park. As was usual, Linda was naked save for her bonds and the shoes Olga found so interesting. The hot sun added to the exertion of walking to make her sweat and pant by the time half a mile had been covered. Olga, on the other hand, was perfectly cool and move at an easy stride along side the naked and bound girl. Olga also had good hiking boots, proper clothing, a canteen of water at her belt, and a pith helmet to keep her head cool.
Neither of them spoke since leaving the castle. Linda, when not worrying about stumbling and receiving more stinging blows from the whip, was remembering that night before and Olga's little game of stringing her up by her thumbs and big toes. And the electric shocks that terrible device had delivered to her sexual organs. She had awoke in a state of worry about the damage done to her sex but everything was surprisingly normal feeling. She hadn't the chance to test her sex out with an orgasm and it didn't look likely she would soon, but she hoped it would function properly. She could just imagine how a little too much electrical stimulation could bum of her nerves there and she would never feel anything every again.
The castle had just disappeared around some rocks and a bend when Olga snapped an order, "Turn here." Another path left inland and Linda turned her steps in that direction. "There's something I want to show you," informed Olga with a sneer. "Something I'm sure you'll find very interesting."
Linda was sure she wouldn't.
The path ended shortly in a roughly circular area of flat sand. Immediately in front of Linda was a wooden post coming out of the ground. The post was four inches in diameter and shinning with varnish or something. If it had been there very long, it was keep in good condition. Or perhaps it was freshly installed. Next to it was a pattern of four short posts in a rectangle. It didn't take much imagination to see how easily a girl could be spread-eagled in the middle with arms and legs stretched wide and taunt. To the other side was a horizontal wood bar supported by two heavy posts. The bar was ten feet long, about the same diameter as the solitary post, and solidly bolted to it's supports. It was a little taller than Olga.
"This is one of the punishment areas," Olga said. "There are four or five scattered around the island. A girl could be tied to the post. Or spread-eagled over there. Or even hung over here. And then left to enjoy the hot sun all day." She teased Linda's left nipple with the end of the whip. "Or all night. Gets pretty lonesome out her at night."
Linda hoped that she wouldn't ever find out for herself but it was a faint hope.
"One time," Olga continued, "I tied a girl to that wooden beam there. Had her stand on a box while I tied her hands crossed over the top of the beam. Then I kicked out the box and she was hanging by her arms. Then I left her to enjoy the night breezes."
Olga flicked the other nipple lightly. "Funny thing is that I forgot about her. Really did mean to take her down the next morning but I forgot." Olga walked over to the horizontal beam and ran the whip along it's smooth wooden surface. "Three days later she was very thirsty. Also out of her mind." Olga turned to smile at Linda. "Completely insane. Kept screaming that the demons were coming to get her."
Linda said nothing and tried not to betray the repulsion she was feeling inside.
"Would you like to try that? Hanging there for a day, I mean," she quickly added with a chuckle. "I probably wouldn't forget again."
Linda repeated the formula she had devised, "You are my Mistress, you can do whatever you want to me." She said it with her eyes turned down.
"You have that right, slavegirl."
Olga slowly walked around the naked girl with tight bound arms. When she returned to the front of Linda, she was smiling. She grasp one lovely breast in her hand, dug her fingernails painfully in, and led Linda forward until she stood right under the horizontal beam. Then Olga took a length of rope from her pocket and made a loop in one end. That she passed around Linda's waist and pulled it very tight. Then she passed the rope between her legs and up behind her, threading it between her arms above the elbows bondage. She tossed the rope over the beam and passed the end between Linda's forearms. With the rope looped once around the wrist bondage, she pulled it tight and then up. Linda's hands came up and away from her back until she was forced to lean forward. Olga pulled harder and Linda felt her shoulders racked as her arms rose up behind her. When Olga tied the rope off the final knots were at Linda's elbows where she could never reach them, and her hands were well above her head. The rope coming down and between her legs was equally tight and cut into her pussy.
Olga stepped back to enjoy the view of this naked slavegirl bound into a painful position. "You know that if you loose your balance and fell off those high heels, you'll probably pull your shoulders out of their joints. Dislocate them, I think it is called." She smiled. "But, if you are willing to risk that, I'm sure you can test out your pussy. That rope between your legs is tight but you can rub your pussy on it. And you are wondering if electrical shocks have damaged your pussy. Go ahead and find out!"
With a hearty laugh, Olga walked away. Linda wanted to called out, to ask how long she was going to be left like this, but she bit her tongue. She wouldn't give Olga the satisfaction of hearing the plea in her voice. Just as she was resolved that she would not rub herself against that rope to create an orgasm. It would be nice to affirm that her sex was okay and functional, but it was what Olga wanted and, therefore, not what Linda wanted.
It didn't take Linda long to find that she could easy the strain on her arms and shoulders by lowering her arms the tiny bit allowed her. But that made the rope between her legs cut into her soft flesh. If she lifted her arms to ease the rope on her sex, it increased the ache in her shoulders.
It was a little strange to be so completely helpless and not even have her legs bound. But helpless she was and helpless she would stay until someone came to release her. And that, she knew with a terrible certainty, would not come until the end of the day. She tried to discount Olga's story about leaving a girl hanging from this post for three days and nights. It was probably just a story to put her in an anxiety-filled state of mind.
The first couple hours passed and the only thing that changed was how high the sun was in the sky, how hot the air was, and how much Linda's arms and shoulders ached. She found that she could spread her feet a little apart and that gave her better balance. But she could do nothing about the pain making the muscles in her shoulders and back bum. And she found it more and more harder to ignore the rope pressing against her most sensitive place.
After the sun had passed overhead and was slowly, every so slowly, making it's way downward, Linda was moaning, very thirsty, and left her mind wandering. Focusing upon thoughts of revenge helped and during the afternoon hours she dreamed up many imaginative and painful tortures she hoped one day to do to Olga. And Helena, but right now her mind was focused upon the girl who enjoyed so much making her suffer. She imagined Olga strung up as she was with a clothed and free Linda walked around the naked Olga with a razor blade in her hand. The Death of a Thousand Cuts, she labeled it in her mind, never suspecting that the Chinese had invented it three thousand years before.
Then she imagined how wonderful it would be to drag a naked and bound Olga behind a jeep around and around the island, taking care to find the most rocky stretches she could. For an encore she created a barbecue with Olga skewered on a metal rod like a chicken.
Well, it helped pass the time.
But there came a point where she could no longer ignore the rope between her legs and the offer of temporary release from this suffering it made. Finally with a moan, she closed her eyes and shifted her hips to one side. Then she shifted them to the other side. It made the rope move only a little bit but the effect was immediate. Perhaps she had been growing sexually excited all along. But whatever the cause, very shortly she was panting and experiencing a growing fire in her loins. Without conscious effort, she began pumping her arms to make the rope between her legs press harder than lighter. It was good, far better than she had imagined it would be. When the orgasm came, her body arched itself to make that rope bury itself into her flesh. The pain of her shoulders, arms and pussy blended with the ecstasy and she cried out with a strange moan. The bliss seemed to last an eternity.
An observer would have known what was happening. After the first strangled cry and the arching of the naked body, this girl had thrust her hips forward in a dozen rapid imitations of the sexual act, then raised one leg to press her thighs tight together. For a long time she teetered on one leg, lost in pleasure more intense than most women ever feel.
But finally the leg came down. And the girl came down from her sexual high. And the pain came back. And she was still alone, still tightly bound, and still aching.
The sun was setting when Helga came to untie her. Linda's arms were useless and hung lifeless as the ropes were peeled from them and then handcuffs locked on behind her back. She cried with returning circulation all the way back to the castle.
That night none of the Hellfire Club members called for her body to be punished or to serve their sexual needs. She slept lonely in her cell, weighted down with shackled of steel. Just before drifting off to welcome sleep, she told herself, with a sense of humor that hadn't yet been stamped out, that she had, at least, found out that her sex still worked.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - A SLAVEGIRL'S MISTAKE
On the next day Olga rested. Or perhaps she was simply devoting her painful attentions to some other slavegirl at Rainbow's End. There were at least two other girls, Linda knew because she had seen them bound to the posts while she was flogged. But she had not yet met them, her cell was in a dungeon room but apparently the other girls were kept someplace else.
Whatever the reason, Linda was not tortured by Olga that day. She was tortured by Helga. As she was fixing Linda upon the torture device, she explained that Helena had ordered it so that Linda would be in a "proper frame of mind" when she was taken to Helena's bed that night. Linda didn't say out loud what she thought of that idea. Instead, she concentrated on maintaining her balance as she sat on the wooden beam. In some ways it was like the horizontal beam she had been tied underneath the day before. But this time it was in one of the dungeons and she was sitting on it rather than standing under it. The beam was round and not uncomfortable to sit upon since it was five or six inches in diameter. But she was sure that Helena would come up with nothing so simple as making her sit upon a pole all day. Her ankles were crossed under the beam and tied tightly with rope. During that operation, Linda's hands were free and she used them to help keep her balance. But once the ankles were secured, Helga told her to put her hands behind her. Then Helga pushed Linda back until she was resting with her shoulders against the wood. Her hands were taken by Helga and pulled down under the wood behind her. Then they were tied together, crossed and lashed with thin cord very tightly.
It was a simple position-just a girl laying on her back with arms and legs bound behind and underneath her. But the way her legs were tied put a lot of stress on her lower back and upper thighs. And she would be unable to move for fear of rolling over. As uncomfortable as the position was, she did not want to think about what it would be like if she were hanging under the beam.
Helga examined all the ropes then left before Linda could ask how long she would be tied like this. Not that she expected any answer other than all day. Already the muscles in her thighs were hurting and she knew that would grow worse, much worse, before she was untied. Having her legs bent down under the beam put a lot of stress on her back which was not flat against the wood at all. Linda sighed at the thought of spending the day like this and knew that she would be moaning and maybe even screaming for release before the sun set. She also felt very naked in this position, it felt like her pussy was wide open and thrusting upward as if wanting to draw attention to itself. Her beam was only about three feet off the floor and anyone standing beside her would see that inviting pussy. Perhaps the best she could hope for, she told herself, would be to be alone all day. At least that would mean no one whipping her pussy or shocking it with electrical devices.
Linda had been right about one thing, she was moaning before evening, but it was long before evening. The strain on her muscles and the enforced view of a stone ceiling for company was getting to her by mid-day and causing her to vocalize her suffering. She moaned and whined, and talked to the walls, telling them that she didn't deserve this and would certainly be merciless in her revenge. The revenge she was sure would one day be hers. But that was becoming a fading hope as each day wore on. These people were very good at keeping a girl secured so that escape was impossible. Linda had not seen a single moment when she could make a bid for freedom and was beginning to doubt she ever would. She was in a very depressed frame of mind when she had a visitor.
Totally unexpectedly, Melody came bouncing into the dungeon room, all smiles and joy as usually was. "Hi, Linda, how you doing?" she asked cheerfully.
"What do you think?" Linda replied sarcastically. "Do you think this is comfortable?"
"Well, no. I've been tied sort of like that a couple times. Yeah, I guess that would hurt. But it could be worse."
"Yeah."
"You know what you need?" the teenager asked with a sparkle in her eyes.
"I'm afraid to ask."
"You need a little sexual stimulation, that's what! I mean, like look at you, your pussy is sticking right up, begging for some attention. But you can't touch it yourself. You can't ever rub it against anything. Must be beautifully frustrating."
"That's okay, you don't have to... Ah, provide stimulation."
"No problem. I'll bet you're already pretty horny." She accented her words with a hand grasping one breast and the other that upthrust pussy. "Yeah, you're homy," she affirmed when Linda gave out a loud moan.
The teenager then continued kneading one breast while the other hand teased and tickled a wide open and defenseless pussy. Linda was quickly moaning with pleasure as Melody played with her body in a most experienced manner. It wasn't long before the captive body was arching upward against the ropes and gasping in an intense orgasm.
"See, I told you so. Well, I got to get going. I'm only going to be here a day or so, then it's on to Paris for the first fashion shows of the season."
"Melody... " Linda struggled to speak while her body was still on fire with pleasure. "Thank you."
"My pleasure. Well, your pleasure. Well, you know what I mean."
The teenager bounced out of the dungeon, leaving a panting girl behind. Linda didn't felt sincere gratitude for the interruption. For at least a few minutes she had forgotten the struggle to keep balanced and the strain making her muscles bum. And Melody had been right, Linda's body had been in a state of sexual excitement already. That orgasm had come very fast.
In mid-afternoon she had another visitor. It was Helena, smiling, dressed in a flowing red silk gown, and carrying a riding crop in her hands.
"Just checking on the slavegirls," she offered. "You're next. Let's see... Oh, my!" she said with mock severity. "You've been tied all wrong!"
Linda swallowed hard, sure that this sadistic woman was not talking about an additional rope around her waist. "We'll just have to fix that." With a smile she put her hand against Linda's hip and pushed, slowly at first but firmly. Linda felt herself slipping sideways and fought it by clenching her thighs against the wood. But the naked slavegirl was at a disadvantage when compared to a free woman. She felt herself going over and, with a sicking jerk, came to a halt under the beam. Immediately her shoulders felt the strain of taking most of her weight.
"Please, Mistress, this hurts so!" she complained.
"Of course, darling, it's suppose to. What did you expect?" purred Helena.
Linda kept silent. After all, what else could she expect from this woman?
"Well, that's better. I'll have to talk to Helga about how she fixes you up. This is really much better. You don't have to worry about sliding off the top now!" She was giggling at her joke as she walked out of the dungeon.
Linda moaned and hung her head. Her arms and legs bound behind the beam held her pretty much without arch downward but the position was worse than before. The strain was different but more painful. Yet, after the first hour Linda had to admit to herself that it was not as terrible as she had feared. She had expected to be screaming in pain by now but she was only occasionally moaning. What really hurt the most was where her arms and legs were pressed hard against the wood by her weight. In some respects this was like a punishment given her back at Helena's house. But that time she had been lashed to the pole and not hanging by arms and legs backwards.
Judging by the orange light coming in the small window high up on the wall, it was about sunset when Helga came to free her. Wearing handcuffs and leg irons for dinner and a bath afterwards was a pleasure compared to her day. Afterwards she was taken to Helena's bedroom and left there, handcuffs and leg irons still attached, plus a handcuff locking one elbow to a bedpost so she had to stand at the foot of the bed to await the coming of her mistress.
Helena appeared to be in good spirits as she entered her private abode. She looked over the naked slavegirl who was to service her that night and smiled. Linda did not like that smile. It promised evil. "Your whip marks are still very pretty," she commented as she ran a fingernail over some of the bigger weals on the naked girl's back and breasts. "Very pretty."
"Just had a very nice session with Mary Ann," she sighed, changing the subject. "That girl screams so wonderfully!" Unlocking the handcuffs holding Linda's arm to the bedpost, she turned Linda around and locked the freshly-freed cuff on her other elbow. The handcuffs pulled her elbows together but only a little, nothing compared to all those house she had spent in this room with her elbows tightly lashed together.
Helena stretched and yawned. Then she stripped off her evening gown and reclined upon the satin cover of her big bed.
"Come here, slave," she purred. "Make your mistress feel good."
Linda climbed on the bed as best she could with ankles still connected by leg irons and arms locked in metal shackled behind her back. Her heart was beating fast but not because of sexual excitement. She had seen the handcuff key, that tiny but so important bit of metal, placed on the top of the dresser. If she could please this woman enough to make her sleepy and forget the handcuff key laying there... !
Linda did her best. Using all the skills she had learned in the bed of this woman and Helga's, she tickled, teased, and stroked sensitive areas of Helena's sex. She licked the clit until her mistress was moaning with pleasure. She pushed her tongue into the moist love-tunnel as far as she could, then twisted and flicked it. The results were very satisfactory. Helena was quickly panting and thrusting her hips against the face that was hungrily feeding upon her sex. With a cry she clamped both hands behind Linda's head, pressed it hard against her pussy, and climaxed intensely.
Linda managed to work her head free so she could catch her breath. Then she lay very still while her mistress withered and moaned out her ecstasy. It took a while with Linda pretending to be asleep herself, but she was rewarded when all she could hear from the still form of Helena was steady, shallow breathing.
Forcing herself to wait fifteen minutes by the clock on the dresser, Linda could hardly believe her luck. A couple of feet away was the handcuff key, that little piece of metal which could free her of the steel shackles that held her prisoner. With no real plan in mind other than to take advantage of the first and what might well be the only opportunity for escape, Linda slowly moved to the edge of the bed. A couple of times her shackles gave off soft clinking sounds, making Linda freeze. But the girl next to her on the bed slept on.
In a minute her feet were on the floor and a few seconds after that Linda was standing by the dresser with the key in her hand. Carefully she felt for the keyhole with her fingers then worked the tiny key around to insert it. A soft click and that cuff sprang open. With a rapidly beating heart, Linda brought her hands around in front of her and used the key on the other wrist cuff. Very carefully she lowered the handcuffs to the comer of the bed, every so careful not to make noise. Then she bent over and used the key to remove the leg irons from her ankles, leaving them laying on the floor.
It was then that the first stumbling block confronted her. She tried to use the key on the handcuffs linking her elbows but found that she could not reach them. In order for one hand to reach the opposite elbow, the elbows had to be separated by a distance roughly equal to the length of her forearm. But the handcuffs on her elbows prevented that. With an inward sigh, she set the turned towards the door and potential freedom. But a second later she turned back to the bed. Helena might sleep the night through, but she might not. There was a set of leg irons and a pair of handcuffs sitting there. While she was considering the wisdom of putting those shackles on Helena, the mistress in question stirred and opened her eyes. "What...!" she uttered sleepily.
But her cry was cut off when Linda, grabbing the first thing she could find, swung the pair of leg irons at the naked form of her owner. With an accuracy that bordered on incredible, one of the ankle cuffs swung out to the end of it's chain then impacted squarely against the side of Helena's head. Instantly the girl fell on her side of the sitting position she had rose to. She didn't move.
Linda dropped the leg irons and stood there in astonishment. She hadn't planned to do anything like this! But instinct, perhaps aided by hatred, had guided her hands and now her mistress lay unmoving on the bed, a small trickle of blood on the temple where the shinning steel cuff had hit her. Linda turned and ran from the room.
With heart thudding in her chest, Linda ran down the hallway and the stairs she knew would head her towards the ground floor and the courtyard. There was a gate leading outside the castle, but she fled towards it out of instinct not from any logical plan. It was a little awkward to run with elbows joined behind her back by the handcuffs but she managed with a side to side motion. Suddenly she was in the courtyard, standing there, facing the gate that would take her out onto the barren island. The heavy wooden door was closed but she managed with her newly freed hands to turn the knob and push the final obstacle to freedom aside. Then she was out on the path leading away from that stone castle and along the cliff over looking the ocean. It was dark but a nearly full moon gave enough light for her to see the path she had traversed the day before when Olga's hand held her leash.
The castle was out of sight when Linda finally came to a stumbling halt on the sandy path. Her side hurt from running and she gasped for air. She had been propelled by a strange euphoria, generated, no doubt, by sudden freedom. It had been good to run and feel the wind on her face, very good. But now she had to catch her breath in more ways than one.
She looked back along the way she had just come but could see nothing of the castle, nor of pursuit. Perhaps she had been lucky, perhaps no one had seen her go. And what about Helena... ? Linda was a mixture of conflicting emotions. She was appalled that she might have killed her former mistress, but also thrilled at her escape. For weeks she had been prisoner of the Hellfire Club, only this evening did she get the slightest chance to escape. She did not regret taking that chance. But she did wonder what she had gotten herself into.
All she could see in the moonlight was sand and rocks. Off to her left she could hear the hiss of waves caressing the rocky coast. She was past the turn off to the circle where the punishment devices were, so she didn't know what lay beyond. Was there any other habitations? She doubted it. Not only had she been told that the island was deserted, she also doubted that Helena or any of them would have built their Rainbow's End if there were others sharing the island. So she considered the very real possibility that she was alone save for those within the castle. More calmly now, she walked along the path, and wondered what to do.
What can a naked girl do on a barren island? And a naked girl with her elbows joined behind her back by handcuffs. There was no food on the island. She had seen no trees or any animals, for that matter. She might be able to find a way down to the water and there would surely be fish in the ocean. But how could she get them without fishing line or spear? And with her arms restricted by the handcuffs? There was a very real possibility that she would have to go back to the castle. That or face starvation out on this rocky mesa. But what she faced back in the castle made her reject that idea completely. She did not want to return to Rainbow's End, not ever.
For a long time she slowly walked the barren landscape, thinking and feeling more and more helpless. It was strange to feel helpless when she possessed more freedom than she had in weeks. But she did. Finally she left the path and found a sheltered patch of sand beside a large rock. She settled herself down beside the rock and was soon asleep.
Sleep for Linda was troubled and fitful. With only bare skin for protection, she was cold and shivered as it grew chilly towards dawn. Troubling dreams of being chased by unseen but terrible beasts bothered her. When she finally awoke, she was unrefreshed and very cold. The moon was gone and half the eastern sky was a delicate pink shading to orange. Awkwardly the naked girl got to her feet and began walking in hopes it would warm up her body.
She didn't feel warm until the sun had risen enough to dispel the cold night air. Gladly she stood on a rise and faced the sun with spread legs and arms to absorb the maximum amount of radiation.
Continuing her walk, Linda observed that the path seemed to follow the cliffs and to be turning slightly to the right. From the amount of turn, she guessed that the island, if roughly circular in shape, would be about two miles long. About mid-morning she was sure that she had rounded the end opposite the castle and was curving back. Still she continued, for her only choice was to try and find help. If she came back to the castle, then she would know that there was nothing on this island. She would face that problem when it happened, she told herself.
The cliffs she was following lowered towards the ocean until she turned a comer and found herself facing a sandy beach where the waves didn't pound upon the rocks but rolled gradually up to her feet. It was a change but still offered no hope, so she continued.
From the position of the sun she was pretty sure she was nearing the castle. There had been a couple of trails leading inland but she had been reluctant to explore them. After she knew what the coastline was like, she might have to consider the middle of the island.
The ground rose up again to form rocky, shear cliffs and Linda could sense that she was near the castle. Then there it was. She wanted to cry but held the tears back. There had been hope that there was something else on the island, illogical hope but hope nevertheless. Now it was dashed. For a while she stood there, looking at the stone walls of Rainbow's End not far in the distance. Then she sighed and turned her steps back along the path. At the first sign of a trail leading inland, she turned.
It was a short trail and ended in a circular clearing with a single punishment device in it. And in that device there was a girl. Linda stopped in surprise. Quickly she looked round but could see no one. Then she slowly approached the girl.
The girl was as naked as Linda, and she was pretty sure this was one of the girls who had been tied to posts during her flogging. The girl was around the same age as Linda, was very pretty and well-built, and looked very much like she was from England. Short, curly hair and big bird-like eyes looked at Linda as she approached. She was locked in a wooden pillory at a height that caused her to have to bend forward some. The neck and hand holes were very snug and the yoke was closed with a large padlock.
"Well, what have we here?" asked the blonde girl when Linda was a few feet away. The accent was, indeed, English, upper crust, well educated. "You don't look like one of them Hellfire birds, that's for sure. But I've never seen any of the slavegirls running around as free as you are."
"My name is Linda. I've only been here a few days. And I came here as a slavegirl." She withheld pointing out that she did not consider herself a slavegirl any more.
"My name's Brenda. Pleased to meet you. But what are you doing? Did they just set you free to wander around the island like that?"
"Sort of. Have you been here long?"
"Well, luv, if you mean here in this pillory thing, no. Helga put her here 'bout an hour ago. Expect I'll be here the whole day, what with the way things usually go around here. But if you mean how long have I been on the island, I think about four months. I tried to keep track for the first few weeks but finally just let it drop. Doesn't make much difference anyway, does it?"
Linda did not answer the question. Instead she said, "I can't get you out of there. I've no key."
"If you did, we'd just both get in trouble, Luv. Slaves aren't suppose to help each other escape, don't you know."
Linda looked nervously around. "Do you know any way to get off this island?" she asked.
"So, you did escape," she girl replied. "I've never heard of that but I guess it's possible. Off the island? No, luv, I don't know any way off. Save they take you off in their boat, of course. You afraid to go back to the castle?"
"Yeah."
"Well, now, don't that put you in a fix? Well, luv, can't say as I can help you. There's no way off this here island that I know. Maybe it's best if you just go back and face your punishment for an attempted escape."
"Can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Let's just say I did a little damage before I left."
"Oh... Glad I'm not in your shoes."
"You sympathy is heart-warming," replied Linda sardonically. "Have you seen this boat? Is there any way I could hide on it? Get a ride to the mainland?"
"Might be you could hide on it, it's big enough. But you'd be taking an awful chance."
"I'm taking a chance just talking to you. And most anything would be better than starving to death out here. Better to take a chance than just give up. I don't think I would just be punished."
"What do you mean?"
"I hit Helena along side the head with a leg iron."
"Hurt her?"
"I don't know. She was unconscious when I fled."
"Wow. You don't fool around. She's mean."
"I know that." Linda sighed. "I heard tell that she once took a girl on a one-way ride in their boat. You know anything about that?"
"You mean Tanya?"
"Who's Tanya?"
"About three months ago a slavegirl named Tanya kicked Helena right between the legs and tried to run. An hour later she was hanging by her thumbs in one of the dungeons. They left her hang all night. We could hear her screaming towards morning. Next day Heather saw her being loaded on the boat. She was tied up real tight and gagged. An hour later the boat came back without her."
Neither of the girls spoke for a while.
"Well, good luck in trying to get on the boat," Brenda finally said.
"Yeah, thanks." Linda turned to go but stopped after only a few feet. Turning back, she asked, "Would you like me to use my hands to make you orgasm? Might help pass the time?"
"Thanks, but I'm all sexed out. Spent all night with Helga and I don't think there's another orgasm left in me. But if you happen this way later this afternoon... Well, good luck."
Linda turned quickly and left, holding back tears. It had hurt her to find out that Helga took other girls to bed. She had thought there was something special between them but now it seems that Helga takes any of the slaves she wishes.
The dock was very close to the castle. Linda remembered seeing it the day she had hung from the beam on the castle wall and nearly strangled herself. There were steps cut into the rock of the cliff leading down to the large wooden dock. Linda carefully followed the steep stone steps until her bare feet were standing on wooden planks and the smell of the sea was heavy in her nose. The dock was in a small sheltered cove and safe from the pounding of the waves. And there was a boat tied there, a sleek cabin cruiser about sixty feet long, slowly rising and falling with the gentle surge.
Some of the castle was easily visible to her but that was a chance she would have to take. No one seemed to be on the boat so she boldly went up the plank. There was a door directly forward of where she entered the deck. It proved to be unlocked. Inside there was a lounge outfitted in plush furniture and rich looking woods. A large painting dominated one wall, some out of focus French countryside scene in muted pastels. The carpet was very soft against her feet.
It would have been nice to search for some way to get the handcuffs off her elbows but she had once possessed the key and that didn't help. Instead she wanted to find a place to hide. She didn't know if she had a few minutes or a few days before someone would come to the boat. But the desire to find a hiding place was strong and sent her for the door on the other side of the lounge.
"Hi, Linda!"
Linda spun around to find Helga sitting in a chair behind the door. She was taking off a pair of earphones attached to a walkman.
"What!" It wasn't very original but it was all Linda could think to say.
"You didn't think you would get very far, did you?"
"I... I hoped... "
"Oh, come off it. This is an empty, deserted island. There is no way for a girl to get off. You had to either come back to the castle or come to this boat. I figured you wouldn't go to the castle, so that left the boat. I didn't have to wait long, did I?"
Linda wanted to cry.
Linda hung by her thumbs in a dungeon room. Helga had locked another pair of handcuffs on her wrists and taken her there. Her toes were a good foot off the stone floor and her thumbs were screaming at her. But she bit back cries of pain and endured. A leather thong had been tied around her thumbs and that leather cut deeply into her flesh. She was careful not to move for each movement of her body made the pain in her thumbs worse.
After three hours, although it seemed like much more to the hanging nudity, Helena came to visit. The mistress had a large bandage taped to her temple and didn't look totally steady on her feet, but was otherwise none the worse for her "accident" of the night before.
"You didn't think you could get away, did you?" she hissed, the anger in her voice obvious. Linda did not answer. "You will be very sorry. Very sorry." Helena walked around the naked girl then paused to give her a push. Linda whined with pain as her body slowly swung in mid-air. "If you had just tried to escape, it would have been a flogging," she continued. "A flogging right on top your marks from the last. It would have hurt terribly. But you attacked me. And that has earned you something worse than a flogging."
Her hand reached out and pushed Linda's hip so the suspended nudity began twisting around. She moaned aloud.
"I cannot let slavegirls go around attacking their Mistresses." She pushed again and Linda moaned louder. "Once, about a year ago another slave attacked me. I had her bound tightly and put into a box with only her head sticking out a hold in the top. Then I had it filled with cement. When it dried, I had her carried out onto the middle of the island and left here. She lived for days, screaming for mercy and begging. I enjoyed sitting on the balcony in the evening listening to her pleas. She could see me up there and I could see her as a grey box with a head."
"You're disgusting," Linda grunted between clenched teeth. "And there was Tanya." Helena gave a hard push and Linda cried out as the strain on her thumbs increased. 'Tanya made a big mistake, about as big as you did. I had her tied up good and tight. Then I let her go swimming with the sharks."
"You're... " Linda never finished the sentence for just then Helena slapped her a stinging blow across the nipples of both breasts.
"Don't get yourself into more trouble," she warmed.
"What more can I get myself into? You're going to kill me."
"Well, I could take the time to really break your spirit. It can be done with any girl. But sometimes it's easier to just get rid of a slavegirl and get a new one. They're so easy to get, you know. And I did have such high hopes for you. You seemed such a natural slavegirl. Most girls have to be kidnapped, you walked right into our trap."
She delivered a solid slap across the breast that left the suspended girl twisting and moaning. When Linda again opened her eyes, she was alone. Slowly her body became still and she hung her head and suffered.
That night she was let down but had to spend the entire night in tight rope bondage. Helga allowed her some water but immediately placed a rubber ball gag into her mouth before she could ask any questions. Then her arms were bound behind her back, elbows tightly corded together, and her legs tied tightly at the ankles and again above the knees. She was laid on the hard stone floor and her ankles tied to her wrists in the classic hogtie. A leg iron was locked on one ankle with the other end locked around the solid leg of a table. Even is she wished to expend the effort to try and roll or crawl away, she couldn't with her ankle chained to the table.
In the morning, Helga unlocked the leg irons and untied the rope holding her ankles to her wrists. Linda had not slept much, partly from the painfully tight bondage and partly from worry about what was to come. Helga stood her on her feet then put a shoulder into her stomach and carried the naked slavegirl out of the dungeon with her head hanging down Helga's back.
One of the serving girls was waiting at the stairs leading up from the dungeon area. Together, she and Helga carried Linda up the stairs then out of the castle. As she expected, Linda was taken down the trail to the dock and aboard the cruiser. All the while Helga had not spoken a word.
Helena was there, all smiles for the bound and very scared slavegirl. There were also two male crewmen who went about their task of casting off the lines and piloting the boat out to sea without so much as a glance at the bound and naked girl.
"You've probably guessed by now what I intend to do," said Helena in a very friendly tone. "There are many sharks in these waters. It is a very good way to get rid of unwanted and ungrateful slavegirls."
Linda could not say what she was thinking because of the ball gag which had been left on all night and was still in place, firmly pushing her tongue down and making speech impossible.
"You really shouldn't have hit me. That hurt." Her voice was casual, as if talking about some slight change in the weather. "I just can't forgive that." She was still wearing a gaze bandage taped over the cut.
For a while the cruiser droned on, heading directly away from the castle and island. When the castle had diminished to a spot but the island was still clearly visible, the boat came to a halt, it's powerful motors idling. Helena stood up and looked over the edge into the dark blue waters. For a while she looked left and right, then her lips twisted into a grin. "There! See, over there? The fin cutting the water?"
Linda, from her sitting position could not see where Helena indicated and, in any event, didn't want to.
"Come, my little sweet things, Helena has breakfast for you," she cooed. Then she turned to the front of the boat and called one of the crewmen over. At her orders, he lifted Linda and set her down on the edge so her feet hung overboard. Then he left the two women alone.
"I would ask if you had any last words," Helena said, "but you couldn't say them anyway. And pleas for mercy are so boring. Well, I guess it's about that time." She put a hand on the ropes joining Linda's elbows. "Just a little shove and you'll be going for a swim. Water's not too cold but there are nasty little beasties out there." She pushed a little and Linda leaned back against the hand. Suddenly the bound and naked girl tried to swing her legs up and over the edge to hit Helena with them. But her action was too late and fully expected. Helena simply pushed hard and suddenly Linda felt herself sliding into the salt water.
As her legs hit the water, she instinctively sucked in a big breath. When the water closed over her head, she held that breath. Her mind was furiously working for some plan, something that might save her. She knew she could easily get back to the surface. She was on the swim team in high school and a strong swimmer. Even with her arms bound behind her back and her legs tied together, she knew she could do a dolphin kick and get her head back to the surface. But another plan flashed into her mind and instead she jackknifed her body and began a dolphin kick down and towards the boat. With both legs fluttering up and down in unison, she was able to swim. Not efficiently and certainly not with any kind of grace. But she did manage to move herself under the boat and come up on the other side. There she struggled to move forward to where she saw a rope hanging down into the water.
It was a line from a bumper, a large rubber cylinder that hung from a rope and was designed to protect the boat from rubbing and bumping against the dock. There were three such bumpers on each side of the boat and, since this was only to be a short run out, they had been left over the side. Linda reached the first one and rolled over in the water until her hands could reach it. The end was only a foot or so in the water but it was enough for her to grasp. Hand over hand she pulled until her hands were grabbing it just above the surface of the ocean. Had her arms been lashed to her body, she wouldn't have been able to do that without her head going underwater. But her arms lifted behind her and she was able to hold the rope and stay floating with her head above the water.
Staying as close as she could to the boat, Linda waited and hoped that no one would go walking around the deck, looking for her. She also hoped that her swimming hadn't been seen by any sharks. If a shark attacked her, it would be all over. She was helpless and had no defense. Visions of chunks of her flesh being tom out by razor sharp teeth flashed through her mind and made her shudder. But she forced them away. If a shark ate her, there was nothing she could do about it.
She had noticed the bumpers when being carried on board but the idea of reaching one didn't occur to her until the cool water had closed around her. If Helena had seen her swimming under the boat, she would be looking over this side any second. And all they had to do was use a boat hook to push her away from the bumper. She clung to that rope like a lifeline, which it was.
Faintly she heard Helena complaining that the stupid slavegirl had disappeared. That was followed by one of the crewmen offering that perhaps the sharks had already gotten her. "But there's no blood!" exclaimed Helena in a disappointed tone. "There's nothing."
"Don't worry," offered the male voice in a heavy Greek accent. "She can't swim. We're a couple miles from shore. There are sharks. She is as good as dead."
In the silence that followed, Linda could hear her heart pounding. She no idea what she was going to do, she knew only that she had to hang on to that line. A few more minutes passed.
Linda bent her legs up near her body in an attempt to make herself less of a target. She didn't know if that would make any difference with the sharks but she did it anyway. Another few minutes passed and there was no outcry from above. Then the motors revved up.
Just as the engine sound increased, Linda saw the shark. The fin was huge as it sliced through the water directly at her. She could see the gray body under the water and her heart stopped. This is it, she told herself and braced against the boat as best she could.
Just then the boat began moving forward. Several things happened in the next second. The shark turned his head sideways to grasp with a jaw filled with teeth. Linda felt the rope in her hands jerk and she hung on for dear life. The shark's snout banged against the hull of the boat just inches behind Linda's legs. Had the boat not moved forward, those jaws of death would have closed around her bound legs and she would have been ripped from her lifeline to be eaten alive.
The boat quickly picked up speed. Linda hung on with every ounce of strength she had but it wasn't easy being towed through the water backwards. Her legs were carried out behind her and the rope in her hands threatened to be pulled lose at any time. The water splashed and swirled around her head. Half the time her face was underwater and she had to lift her head to gasp for air.
For an eternity the water pushed against her, trying to dislodge her hold on life. She knew if she were to let go she would be soon dead. If the sharks didn't catch up with her, she would surely drown. With freed arms and legs she might have been able to swim a couple miles to the island. But with arms and legs bound and only a feeble dolphin kick to propel her and keep her head out of the water, there was no chance.
She was bounced around, occasionally her legs banged against the hull. But she held on. When her fingers burned and cried to let go, she thought of how much she hated the woman up in the boat and she hung on. It would not have been as easy task for any girl, but for a girl who was bound up and whose thumbs still felt weak and strange from hanging by them the day before, it was nearly impossible.
Struggling to lift her head, Linda turned to try and see where the island was. She was greeted by a shoreline not far away but probably still out of swimming range for a tied up girl. Then she saw the sandy beach she had walked by the morning before. The boat was cruising along the beach, heading towards the castle. Apparently the current had pulled the boat in the direction of the only smooth beach on the island and now they were working their way back to the rocky cliffs where the castle was. Linda jerked her head up again and saw that she was near the end of the beach and the rocks were beginning again.
She let go of the line.
Immediately she kicked with her legs as hard as she could. She wanted to get away from the stem of the boat for she feared the props would suck her in and cut her to pieces. A boat that large had good sized props and that was a very real danger. She felt an undertow trying to suck her back to the boat but suddenly the boat was passed her and she was swirling in the wake. She lifted her head once, sucked in breath, then dove back under the water, hoping that no one had been looking back and saw her. She stayed under the water as long as she could, dolphin kicking to keep her from floating up as she naturally would have with a lung full of air. But finally she could hold off no longer and had to turn her head upward. She broke the surface and sucked in sweet air.
The boat was thirty yards away and still moving in a straight line. She shook her head to clear the water from her eyes and when she looked at the boat she could see Helena standing on the stem deck. But the cruel mistress was looking forward, not back, and she didn't see her slavegirl bobbing in the wake.
Linda started out for the shore which was still a good two hundred yards away. She couldn't see too much with her head at surface level, but she could see that she was still at the section where the beach was smooth sand. Pacing herself so as not to tire out, the naked girl kicked for safety.
When she felt the sand under the feet on one kick, she almost cried. She was just about out of energy, the swim to shore having taken longer and more out of her than she expected. Pulling her feet under her, she stood in the chest deep water and was happy. Then a wave knocked her off her feet and rolled her around in the sand and water. Finally it retreated, leaving a sputtering girl laying in the shallow water. She quickly rolled up onto the beach before another wave could grab her body. For a long time she lay there on the dry sand just above the high water mark, gasping and glad to be alive. But eventually she took a deep breath and sat up to look around her. And to wonder what a naked, bound, and starving girl could do on a barren island where the only people were either helpless slave or enemies intent on killing her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - A FRIEND IN NEED
Linda spit the sand out of her mouth and wished for a bath. Or at least one of those cold water showers they have at the beaches. She was covered with sand and salt water, and her hair was a stringy, tangled mess. She was tired, her elbows were still hurting from the tight bondage on them, and she was very hungry, not having eaten for almost two days. It never ceased to surprise her that her elbows and shoulders still hurt even though she had been bound the night before, spending the entire night and all of this morning in these tight ropes. One would have thought that the body would get used to the torment after a while, perhaps even simply grow numb. But it didn't work that way. The pain continued.
Looking around, Linda found herself alone on the beach which, considering that those who inhabit that island wanted to kill her, was for the better. But she had not idea what she was going to do now. Having escape certain death in the jaws of sharks, or at least drowning, she was glad for that. But she was still in a hell of a fix. Being naked was no trouble, she was getting pretty used to that state of undress. But she was tightly bound hand and foot, alone on a barren, deserted island, and dared not been seen by those few who lived her for fear they would finished the job of removing her from the world of the living.
After considerable effort she came to the conclusion that there was no way she would be able to get to her feet without hands and with the legs bound together. So she rolled a little farther up the beach, only to discover that a naked but wet body collects quite a coating of sand when rolled where it was dry. The best she could hope for was to keep it out of her eyes and mouth, the rest of the body would have to just get dirty.
After a while she grew tired of rolling on the sand and experimented with other forms of movement while bound up. What worked best, she found, was to sit up, not too easily done with arms joined behind her, then move forwards by extending her feet and lifting her bottom off the sand on her hands, then putting her bottom down a few inches forward of its last position. A little more experimentation and she found that she could move faster if she moved her bottom sideways. By lifting herself up on hands and feet, she could move her bottom almost a foot to the side. And the motion could be repeated fairly rapidly so that she was crawling sideways over the sand. It was exhausting work and she had to pause often to rest. But at least she was moving, and it was good to be doing something.
Sometime around noon, to judge by the position of the sun, Linda found the path she had walked the day before. But even more importantly, she found some rocks, one large enough so she could push against it and manage to work herself up to a standing position. It wasn't easy, and the last dozen or so yards the ground had turned from sand to hard earth and rocks, but she was happy with the accomplishment of standing up.
Now, for whatever it was worth, she could move faster by hopping on bare feet. It wasn't an easy way to travel, and required constant care not to fall, but it was better than rolling or sliding her bottom sideways on the ground. But which way to go? To the east was the deserted end of the island. To the west was Rainbow's End, a castle she dared not be found near. Finally she began hopping towards the castle, not from any desire to meet people, but out of a hope that perhaps she would find one of the slavegirls locked in the pillory or some other place. And another slavegirl might be able to help her out of her ropes. With a little luck, she might even be able to free the slavegirl and have an ally. Well, with a lot of luck, but it was at least something to try.
A hundred yards of path had taken her a couple minutes to traverse the day before. It now took her half an hour of careful hopping and many near disasters for her to cover the same distance. The sun was hot and she was sweating from the effort before long. As her body dried, a lot of the sand fell off but she still felt more dirty than she had since being a nearly uncontrollable tom-boy child. More and more of her thoughts were taken up with the dreams of a warm bath and food, any kind of food. Visions of hamburgers and plates of halibut in a butter herb sauce danced before her eyes. Steaming hot lobster and crab legs tormented her. Irish stew made her lick chapped lips. But the truth was that even a dry crust of bread would be welcome.
It was mid afternoon when she reached the turn off that led to the place of the pillory. Another slavegirl had been there the day before. But it was probably too much to hope that she would still be there. Not that she doubted the Hellfire Club was capable of leaving a naked girl to stand in a pillory for days on end. She simply considered it unlikely.
There was no girl in the pillory. The wooden construction stood empty and mute in the flattened clearing and mocked her. With a sigh she began what would have been a short walk for a normal person but was an unpleasant task for a girl with bound arms and legs.
At the junction with the main path, she paused to catch her breath. A convenient rock offered a place to sit down and let her feet rest. Besides, she needed time to think. It was getting on towards evening. Should she begin looking for some place to hide and shelter her for the night while she still had daylight? Or should she try something else? There had been another clearing across the island. She had spend some time standing under a horizontal beam there, and supposed that other girls would be taken there for punishment. But that was such a long distance for a girl with bound legs. Perhaps she should simply find some place where she could rest for the night. Thirst and hunger tormented her but there was nothing she could do about that. And a determined part of her mind vowed that she would die of thirst out her before she would knock on that castle door.
It was then, amid feverish dreams of cool water and mountains of food, that she realize her original plan was perhaps still the best. She had tried to sneak aboard that boat, hoping to hide there and be taken to the mainland eventually. Well, that was still a good idea, especially not that no one would be expecting her. Everyone thought that she was dead, no Helga would be waiting on the boat to trap her. With lifted spirits, she regained her feet and began hopping towards the castle and boat dock. She would figure out how to climb down the steep rock steps to the dock when she got there. At that moment, all that occupied her mind was thoughts of the water and food that she would surely find on the boat.
Linda was nearly at the top of the stairway to the boat dock when she saw movement up ahead. Someone was coming! Quickly she sought some kind of cover, dashing as best she could behind one larger rock that offered a hiding place. Nervously she pressed herself against the rock, listening as hard as she could for whoever was walking the path. When that person was near her rock, she planned to hop around the opposite side to stay out of sight.
Over the pounding sound of her own heart, Linda could hear an occasional footstep. They were oddly sharp, almost clicking sounds, and she figured that the person was wearing shoes that gave out louder sounds where the path was hard and were muted where the path was sandy. Finally the footsteps grew near and Linda jumped. Half hidden by the rock, she peaked out to see who was walking by. And her heart skipped a beat! It was what she had been hoping to find, another slavegirl!
The girl was wearing high heels, which explained the occasional clicking noise. Her arms were tightly bound behind her back with rope, the elbows crushed together much as Linda's were. The girl was naked and her bottom swayed as she walked along. Linda quickly looked back towards the castle but there was no one else on the path. Then she sucked in a deep breath and called out. For whatever reason this slavegirl was forced to walk naked out on the barren landscape that late afternoon, she was potentially an ally and possibly Linda's only hope.
"Please wait!" Linda called. "I need help."
It was only went bound and naked girl turned around that Linda recognized who it was and she moaned in despair. It was Melody, one of the Hellfire Club girls! She should have recognized the teenager's luxurious red hair. It was just her luck that she would mistake the only member of the Hellfire Club who liked to be tied up for one of the slavegirls.
"Oh!" exclaimed Melody. "I though you were gone."
"Well, I'm not."
"But Helena said... "
"She was wrong."
"Well, well!" Melody walked back up to where Linda leaned against the rock. "And you certainly do look as if you need help."
"You said it. Please don't tell Helena that I'm here," Linda pleaded.
Melody looked back towards the castle, the topmost windows of which were just visible. "Get around to this side so no one will see you. And what can we do about those ropes?"
"Wouldn't happen to have a knife on you, would you?" Linda asked. Melody turned around and wiggled her fingers. It was obvious that she had no knife. She didn't even have clothes, save for a pair of shoes. For a few moments she surveyed Linda.
"Hop over to that rock and sit down," Melody finally said. "I've got an idea."
Linda did as told and was surprised to see Melody get down on her knees and back up to her legs. With bound hands but free fingers, she managed to find and work loose the knots holding Linda's legs prisoner. It took a while but the knots slowly yielded and eventually the final ropes fell off, leaving Linda with free legs for the first time in almost twenty-four hours. She turned her back in hopes that Melody would not do the same miracle on them.
"No, I don't think so," said Melody, regaining her feet. "I think I'll leave your arms bound for a while."
"But, Melody, I'll untie yours."
"I'm sure you would, but I still don't wish to have you free right now."
"You're not going to turn me over to Helena, are you?" Linda said with obvious and very sincere fright in her voice.
"No. At least not right now." Melody looked back towards the castle again. "Tell me what happened to you."
Linda told her tale, omitting nothing, not even her act of knocking Helena senseless. Melody listened without comment. When Linda admitted that she was trying to make it to the boat when she met Melody, the tale ended. Melody was silent for a minute while Linda nervously awaited the verdict.
"So Helena really did throw one of the slavegirls to the sharks. And tried to make a meal out of you. I've played along with her for a long time even through I didn't like the way she and Olga hurt some of the girls. They get pretty mean, you know. But she told me that the girls who disappeared were sold into a life of slavery in some Middle East country. Or to a brothel. I didn't really think that she would kill someone. That's a little too much for me. I mean, like I went along with most everything. I enjoy torturing other girls, you know. But throwing them to the sharks! Ugh! What a way to go."
"Then you won't turn me over to her?"
"No, I don't think I will do that. She'll just try to bump you off again. And this time, she'll make sure."
"So what do we do?"
"I'm going to have to do some thinking."
"Meantime, could we see about getting me something to eat and drink?"
Melody laughed. "Maybe we can do something. Follow me." She led the bound girl around the rock and back up the path. Already the sun was setting and casting an orange glow over the landscape. "Walk right behind me. If someone looks this way, they'll just see me coming back."
"You didn't say why you're out here, all naked and tied up, like one of the slavegirls," Linda asked.
"Just taking a little walk. Adds a bit of spice if you're naked and your arms tied, doesn't it?"
Linda just grunted and concentrated on following closely behind Melody. Since she was a couple inches taller, she had to bend her knees a little. But, still in all, it was nice to be able to walk again.
A short distance away they reached the steps leading down to the boat dock. Melody took that path and for a while both girls were busy trying not to slip on the steep steps.
On the dock, Melody hurried Linda on board the yacht and then into the cabin. She didn't turn on any lights even though the fading light made it a little hard to see in the reddish/orange gloom. She led Linda directly to the far door of the lounge and then down some stairs. Suddenly they were standing before the ship's brig. There were four tiny cells made from slender iron bars, each holding only enough room for a hard wood bench. Each barred door had a has and a padlock hanging there, open for now. Melody turned her back on one of the doors and opened it. "Get in," she ordered.
"What! Why do you want me in there!?"
"Let's just say I want to make sure you're still here when I come back."
Linda sighed. In the dim light coming through the porthole, the cell looked very gloomy and small. But she had little choice.
Either she trusted this teenager girl or her goose was cooked. She walked into the cell. As she turned around the door clanged shut and Melody snapped the padlock.
"I'll come back after dinner and bring you something to eat. Then we'll see where we go from there."
"Please don't tell Helena." Linda pleaded. "I'll do anything if you can get me away from this island."
Melody left without promising anything. A couple of minutes later she returned with a bottle of water in her bound hands. That she passed to Linda through the bars. Then she told the slavegirl not to worry, she would work something out.
The bottle of water did more than ease Linda's thirst. It meant to the still naked and bound girl that Melody didn't meant to turn her over and let her be killed. At least not immediately. She took hope in that small kindness. She lay down on the hard wood and soon fell asleep despite her bound arms and dirty condition.
It was completely dark when Melody returned. She woke Linda by working at the ropes on her arms. When the last loop fell off, it was approximately twenty-four hours since the ropes were put on. Linda moaned with the ache as she moved her arms forward from stiff shoulders. Her hands and forearms tingled but were not injured. Linda was young and healthy, which was fortunate because it enabled her to endure the prolonged punishments the Hellfire Club heaped upon her.
The brig was lit only by a flashlight which Melody kept pointed towards the floor. She explained that she had snuck out of the castle and didn't think it would be a good idea for anyone to see lights in the boat. She then locked handcuffs upon Linda's wrists but since they were in front of her, that hardly constituted restraints. Linda didn't protest when a pair of leg irons were added. She could walk, the chain was long enough for that, and they were comfortable.
Melody led her to the galley where they found the cupboards and refrigerator well stocked. Cold fried chicken was Linda's first target and she ate it with great need. As she finished that and added a glass of milk, a few slices of bread and a piece of chocolate cake, Melody explained the situation.
"No one knows that you're alive. Helena still maintains that she simply took you to the mainland and sold you to a sheik who will keep you in his harem for the rest of your life.
"Helga seems upset but she's not willing to buck Helena. Olga is going around torturing the girls the same as normal. You should see what she's doing to Rachel right now. You can hear the screams all over the dungeon."
"So what are you going to do about me?" Linda asked between mouthfuls.
"I've been thinking. I threw in with Helena and Olga and Katrina and Karla because I love tying up other girls. And punishing them. I don't deny that I love to watch another girl squirm and see the pain reflected in her eyes. But they tried to kill you. And apparently they did actually throw another of the slavegirls to the sharks. That's too much for me."
"Are you going to quit the club?"
"I guess so. I mean, like I really do love most of what they do... But I just can't go along with everything."
"Good. You're not the same as the others. You're not as mean."
"Oh, I can get pretty mean," Melody assured with a smile.
"But you don't take delight in inflicting serious harm."
"No, I don't mind causing pain but actually doing damage. Did you know there was one girl that Olga used to drop from a table with her arms tied up behind her so that the shoulders dislocated? Then she would pull the girl's arms and reset the shoulders. It's quite painful, you know. And Helga hinted to me one time that before I joined the club, Olga and Helena used to do much worse punishments to the girls."
"I can believe it."
"Well, I'm going to get out of here. I just don't want to be a part of that."
"Will you take me with you?"
"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Taking the boat to the mainland is the only way of the island. I don't think that I could get the crew to not tell Helena if I tried to take you with me. They are very loyal to Helena."
"Then what can we do?" Linda was feeling much better with food on her stomach but still worried about the situation.
"I think I have a plan. I'll hide you on the boat and then ask to be taken to the mainland tomorrow. I'll ask late in the day so it will be almost dark when we get there. The crew will want to stay in Cristos overnight so I can get back on board and get you out. Those crewmen will be drinking and whoring around in town. Then you and I can fly back to the United States."
"G' d!"
"But there is one problem... "
"What?"
"Helena is a very powerful woman. If she finds out that you're alive... Well, I'm sure she would take measures to finish the job. And she won't be happy if I quite the club. No one's suppose to quit the Hellfire Club. It's a rule."
"Can't we just hide? I mean, I can disappear into most any large city. How could Helena find out?"
"Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering if one of Helena's hired help might kidnap you or kill you at any time? Hell, she finds out I helped you escape, she might even have me thrown to the sharks. They have them in California, too, you know."
"So what do we do?"
For a while Melody didn't speak. When she did, gone was the sweet and innocent teenager. "I know a man," she began. "He's sort of a private detective. For the right money he can get some of his buddies together and take Rainbow's End."
'Take Rainbow's End? What do you mean?"
"This place isn't guarded at all. There are only two men and they're really just crewmen for the boat. There is a staff of four people who run the castle. And Helga. Outside of that, there are only the occasional Hellfire Club members. A very small forced of armed men could easily take over."
"And what would they do to the people here?" Linda said slowly.
"Depends. Right now Helena and Olga are here. How would you like to make them your prisoners?"
Melody smiled and Linda almost joined her. The idea of actually getting revenge upon the Helena was a powerful urge.
"This place is set up to hold girls as permanent slaves. I'm sure that a couple more wouldn't make much difference. There are only two real slavegirls here right now. I don't see why we can't keep them just as they are. At least with Olga and Helena under lock and key, they wouldn't have to worry about being fed to the sharks." Melody sounded sincere. "They would only have to worry about the punishments we did to them," she finished with another smile.
"I don't care about punishing the slavegirls," said Linda. "It's Helena and Olga I would like to get my hands on."
"And you will. If you want to go along with this plan."
"And what about these?" Linda said as she lifted joined wrists. "What about me?"
Melody stood up. "I've been thinking. You and I are a lot alike, I think. I've seen it in your eyes. You like being tied up. You like the sexual excitement it generates within. You know I'm the same way. And I'm pretty sure you would like to do the same thing to other girls. I don't mean really torturing girls but just punishing them. You know, just little tortures to make them aware of their bondage and their status in life. You do know what I'm talking about."
Linda was surprised. Not that this teenager knew about the feelings being tied up generated within her, but about her wanting to do the same to others. She was sure she wanted to torture Helena and Olga, to make them suffer and scream in agony. But to do it to innocent girls? Yet there was something in the idea...
"Would you like to tie me up?" asked Melody sweetly. She turned around and joined her hands behind her. Then she pulled her elbows towards each other, lacking only half an inch of touching. "Wouldn't you like to play with me? Maybe spank my bottom and feel me wiggle in my bonds as I lay over your knee?" Linda swallowed. There was something to what this beautiful young girl said. "Yes," Linda whispered. "Oh, yes. That would be fun."
"See? You're just like me. If we could just be sure we didn't have to worry about Helena... We could have some fun together. I have a beautiful big house back in California. There are acres and acres of woods out back and a basement I've made into a dungeon. We'd have fun there."
All sorts of visions flashed through Linda's mind. This was certainly an exciting invitation. "Do you have enough money to hire this little army?"
"Money? Hell, I have more than Helena and Olga combined. Daddy worked very hard all his life to get it, then he and Mommy gave it all to me. Plane crash. But the fact is I almost pay off the national debt. Yes, I can afford to hire an army."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Linda with a big grin. Melody smiled back.
The first order of business, after cleaning up the galley, was a bath. Melody found some candles and the two of them took a warm, bubbly bath together by candlelight. The tub was small but that hardly mattered. Linda was still shackled but that didn't matter, either. Melody's hands soaped the chained slavegirl and shampooed her hair. And Linda's hands found this young girl's body most exciting to touch. The bath took a lot longer than necessary.
When dried off, Linda was surprised to find Melody standing there with ropes in her hands. "What's that for," she asked even though the question need not have been asked.
"You'll have to stay hidden here for the rest of tonight and most of tomorrow. I'm going to make sure you won't make any noise and get yourself discovered." Melody said it with a smile but Linda could sense that she was half serious.
Grateful for what this teenage girl was doing, Linda offered her hands, handcuffs and all, as a symbol of her willingness to be bound and the trust she was placing in Melody. The handcuffs were removed and Linda turned around to feel the familiar bite of ropes upon the flesh of her wrists, followed by ropes around her elbows.
"You don't have to tie my elbows," Linda said.
"Perhaps not," replied Melody as she tugged the elbows together. "But I like to. Besides, I plan to fix you so you can't possibly move. Less chance that you'll make a mistake that way."
It was hard logic to argue with. Besides, Linda was getting pretty used to her elbows being tightly bound behind her.
The arms secured firmly, Linda was led to the bedroom. There, by candlelight, she was shown where she would stay until again rescued by this still naked teenager. The back of the closet had metal rings screwed into the wood.
"I had them put there," Melody explained. "Good place to store a slavegirl when you're not using her."
Before inserting slavegirl into closet. Melody added one more rope to her binding. It was a loop round her waist, pulled tight and then passed between her legs in front to loop over her hands in back. The rope was run between the legs several times, each tightly. Then it was knotted in front. The crotch ropes pressed very tightly against her sex but Linda didn't protest. A small portion of her mind hinted that this crotch rope might be welcomed during the long hours that lay ahead.
Linda was guided in and turned around so her back was pressed against the back of the closet. Melody then used ropes from the rings to lash her body to the wall. There were enough rings and rope to make her quite solidly held against the wall. After the first ropes holding her upper body, Melody had spread her legs and tied each ankle to a ring at the bottom comers. Soon all Linda could move was her head.
The gag was one of those rubber wads held in place by a series of straps going round her head, under her chin, and even around her forehead. When finally buckled up tightly, she could make only pitiful whining sounds through her nose.
"Comfy?" asked Melody.
"Nnnnngggghhh!" said Linda with a shake of her head.
"Oh, dear," replied Melody. "Can't have you moving your head around so much, might bang it against the wall and make noise."
Conveniently there was a small metal ring attached to the strap around the bound up girl's forehead. Melody tied a rope to that then tied it down to the crotch rope. But not before pulling it so tight that Linda was forced to bend her head down until her chin almost touched her chest. She moaned out a protest but was ignored.
"There," said Melody with delight. "Little Linda's all tied up and can't move." She tweaked one nipple where it stuck out between the ropes. "Have a nice night. I'll see you tomorrow night in Cristos. Bye!"
The closet door closed on a naked girl who was having second thoughts about all this. A whole night and a day tied and gagged like this would be called a torture by most sane people. Still, she wasn't mad at Melody. The teenager was only doing what she enjoyed. And it was one way to make sure that she would stay hidden and therefore less likely to get caught. And the excitement at the prospect of freedom was a tonic she badly needed.
Linda actually slept fairly well during the long night. She was getting very used to spending the night in tight bondage.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - REVENGE
There was little light coming into the closet where Linda endured tight ropes and aching jaw, so she wasn't sure what time of day it was. The hours stretched out and all she could do was dream of tortures for Helena. That, and wild ideas of what kind of games she and Melody might play. She knew she liked that teenager very much. And it seemed the girl liked her, too. Perhaps they would have some fun times together.
Sometime during the morning she remembered the ropes between her legs. When she tired to lift her head, the ropes pressing on her sex tightened. It felt good. Then Linda was sure why Melody had added that crotch ropes. And tied her gag harness to them. Gently at first she began masturbating herself by trying to lift her head. It felt good and Linda found herself struggling and straining against the ropes holding her prisoner. It felt good to strain against those tight ropes, good to feel how helpless she was. Since her discussion with Melody the night before, she was more willing to admit that being tightly bound up excited her. Soon she was breathing heavily and feeling so nice. It was a delicious and terrible feeling the way those ropes held her. It was painful but it was wonderful. Linda tired to stretch out the excitement but there came a point where she couldn't hold back. She began jerking her head and was suddenly exploding into a molten blast of ecstasy. She repeated the performance that afternoon. It felt good and helped to pass the time.
When she was sure that this was the longest day in history, she heard the sounds of men walking on the deck above, followed by the rumble and vibration of diesel marine engines coming to life. She moaned with pleasure for that meant the day was coming to an end and Melody would be taking the yacht and her to the mainland and safety. It almost made her forget the terrible ache in her arms and neck. And the ache in her jaw from the rubber wad that forced her mouth open.
The motion told her when the boat left the dock, and the rolling told her that there were gentle swells on the ocean that evening. It was a long trip and Linda wondered why Melody didn't check on her. It shouldn't have been too hard a thing to do. Just leave the lounge for a minute, go to the bedroom, open the closet door, and asked the naked and bound girl if she was still alive.
But Melody did not come and eventually Linda felt the motions smooth out. Then there came a bump and the motors died. They were docked in Cristos. How long would it be before Melody came to free her?
It was a long time. Linda was certain that something had gone wrong and she wasn't going to be rescued. Someday in the weeks to come, one of the Hellfire Club girls would go to put some clothes in the close and find a body hanging in it's ropes, the gag still strapped into a silent mouth.
Suddenly there was an explosion of light and Linda blinked. She couldn't look up because of the rope holding her head down, but she recognized Melody's voice, "Well, glad to see you decided to stay put."
There followed the wonderful untying of ropes and the plucking of rubber from a tired and aching jaw. She had to be helped out of the closet and to a sitting position on the bed. As Melody worked on freeing her arms, Linda could see her reflection in a mirror attached to the closet door. The naked girl looked haggard and tired. And her body was marked with a crisscross of reddish rope indentations. When her arms came around in front, they were even more deeply indented. And they hurt.
"I could have promised not to move," Linda said hoarsely. "Sure, but this was more fun," came the whispered but cheerful reply. "Keep quiet. There's one crewman on deck. I told him I left something here and had to get it. Which is sort of the truth." Linda gratefully accepted a health food bar, followed by a glass of water. There were clothes laying on the bed and Linda dressed as Melody was coiling the ropes and putting them away. It felt strange to be clothed after so long being naked. She was not sure she liked it. But she did like that fact that she was unfettered and about to walk away to freedom.
Getting off the boat was simple. Melody went forward and pretended to have to adjust her nylons. With a lot of leg showing right in front of the crewman, he wouldn't have noticed a herd of elephants leaving the ship, let along a single girl. Melody joined Linda on the dock and the two walked off arm in arm.
Later, in a hotel room of the fanciest hotel in the small Greek seaport, Linda and Melody enjoyed a good meal served in their room, followed by some very good wine. Without effort, they hit it off like old friends, exchanging stories about their youth and teenage years. But eventually the talk turned serious.
"We've got a problem," Melody said. "We can't get you back to America."
"What do you mean? I got here, didn't I?"
"Sure. Packed inside a trunk. Remember?"
"Yeah, I remember. Why can't I just get on a plane and fly home. You have the money."
"You haven't done much international travel, I can see. You need a passport. Since all your worldly goods were removed from your apartment and destroyed, it's obvious you don't have a passport."
"All my stuff destroyed!"
"Standard procedure. Helena didn't want any trace of you to remain. She closed your apartment simply by having some paid flunky go in and take out anything that identified you. He had your key. It was in your purse."
An anger burned within Linda. It was one thing to kidnap a girl and hold her as a slavegirl but another to destroy her life. Everything Linda had in life, little as it was, was now gone.
"Well, anyway, we got to figure a way to get you out of the country and back to the good, old USA," Melody continued.
Since she was feeling tipsy from the wine, Linda uttered the first idea that came to her mind. "Why don't you just pack me up in a trunk and ship me back? Worked one time, didn't it?"
Melody frowned then broke into a big grin. "Right! Tomorrow morning we buy a trunk. What size trunk do you take?"
Both girls laughed at that as if it were the funniest thing every said. Later, after they had stripped down to bare skin and gone to bed, Linda vaguely remembered having said something that she really felt she shouldn't have. But it was very nice to fall asleep with her arms wrapped around this delightful teenage girl and whatever it was that she shouldn't have said faded away.
The next morning Melody went off looking for a trunk and Linda remembered that she had a big mouth. The trunk was delivered to the hotel room shortly after Melody returned. The teenager also came back with several large bags that contained a great deal of rope, some tape, and a small red, rubber ball.
"Melody, you're not serious! Once is enough! I was shipped her in a trunk. Helena thought it was funny. It was terrible."
"You got a better way to get back home?" asked Melody sweetly. "Without a passport?"
"Oh, hell! You know I haven't. But it's terrible being locked in that trunk. It was horrible. You wouldn't know."
"Yes, I do," replied Melody sweetly and with a grin.
"I'll bet you do. Well, if it must be... " Several hours later they had finished attaching handles on the inside to act as anchor points for the securing of an unwilling passenger. Linda stripped down to bare skin and allowed her arms to be bound behind her back, and her legs tied together. Then she curled up into a ball and allowed Melody to bind her inside the trunk. Ropes from the handles to different parts of her held her in the trunk without shifting around, even when Melody closed the lid and rolled the trunk onto different sides. A second trial was made after some padding was added. Finally some air holes were added as inconspicuously as possible.
Melody made a phone call to arrange for the trunk to be picked up just before the flight time. The girls had a good lunch and a little play time in the afternoon. Then it was time.
Linda was allowed to wear some clothing because this trunk was not padded like the one she had been in when coming to Rainbow's End. Three body stocking afforded some warmth without being bulky. Linda put them on and then turned her back for Melody to bind her arms. In view of the fact that the transportation would last over twenty- four hours, her elbows were not tied together. But the wrists were crossed and the elbows linked firmly. That would keep her arms secured without nearly as much pain as could have been. Next her legs were tied together with rope. Then she was fitted into the trunk. With the trunk in its proper position, she would be sitting on her bottom and feet with head upright. She would be bent over with her head upon her knees but it wouldn't be too uncomfortable. But Linda knew from bitter experience that baggage handlers weren't too careful about which side of a trunk was up.
The gag was added but Melody left the lid open until there was a knock on the door. Then the lid came down and was firmly locked in place. The trunk, clearly marked "fragile", was manhandled out of the hotel room and into a truck for a bumpy ride to the airport.
It was long trip. It was cold in the trunk, it was uncomfortable, and Linda spent most of the trip laying on her side, which was better than being on her head. Long before the plane landed at LAX, she was glad that she had been gagged. Had not her mouth been filled with the rubber ball, she would have surely been calling out for help. And she really didn't want to be discovered sneaking into the country.
The end of the journey came over thirty hours after the beginning. When the lid was opened and she beheld the sweet face of Melody, Linda was happy. When the tape was ripped off and the rubber ball plucked from her mouth, Linda said simply, "Next time, I ride in the cabin, you fly as cargo."
Melody laughed.
The pre-dawn display of pinks and yellows filled the eastern sky as the two helicopters approached the island, cruising low over the placid water. Reaching the cliffs they descended into a flat area. With military precision a dozen black clad figures poured out of the doors even before the whirling blades had come to a stop. The leader pointed a black gloved hand westward and the figures moved off in single file line, trotting over the rocks and sand. All wore black helmets with darkened visors pulled down. Most carried assault rifles held at ready.
It was no contest. The castle of Rainbow's End had no defenses. One cook did manage to fetch a pistol in defense of the hideaway of the Hellfire Club. He demise was swift and somewhat gory. Within fifteen minutes of the initial assault, the castle was secured and all living inhabitants were rounded up and stood shivering in the main lounge. Among them was Helena and Olga, both dressed in black silky nightgowns. Even the two slavegirls currently property of the Hellfire Club were present, wearing the usual uniform of a slavegirl, nothing.
With everyone present, the two black-clad figures who did not carry rifles stepped forward. "Are you in charge!" demanded Helena as soon as they did. "I demand that you get these goons out of my house immediately! I demand... " She was- cut off by a hard slap delivered suddenly by the taller of the two hooded figures. Helena recoiled more from surprise than pain. "You are in a position to demand nothing," said the figure in a feminine voice.
Linda reached up and unbuckled the chin strap then removed the helmet. Behind her Melody was doing the same.
"You! You're a slave... Melody, what are you doing! We're your friends. You're one of us." Helena's protests were delivered in a high shrill and from lips that trembled. Something was seriously amiss in her neatly ordered world and she was scared.
"I'm not one of you when you throw girls to the sharks!" Melody retorted with some heat. "There are some thing that even I draw the line at."
"Rolls are reversed," commented Linda dryly. "You will now be the slave and I the mistress."
"You can't do that... "
"Shut up!"
Helena stopped in mid-sentence, frozen by the harsh tone in Linda's voice.
"You will not speak unless told to," she continued. "You will be a slavegirl who obeys or is immediately and painfully punished." She smiled sweetly as she handed the helmet back to one of the guards. "And I have a lot of punishing to do to you before I even come close to getting even." Helena's eyes reflected the fear within as she took a step backward.
'Take this woman and that one," Linda said, pointing at Olga, "down to the dungeon. It's time for them to be tied up for their first punishment."
Each of the accused women was grabbed by the arm and dragged after Melody who headed towards the stairs leading to the dungeons. Linda turned to the two naked slavegirls and ordered, "Them, too. They will remain slaves. At least for now." Then she turned to Helga. "You will also become a slave. But I think your punishments will not be a severe as Helena and Olga's. I expect you'll soon be back in charge of this castle. But for new bosses. Understand me?"
"I understand you, Linda. Your wish is my command." It was a little dramatic but it was said with a smile and signified her acceptance of the new order.
Linda dismissed the rest of the staff with orders to continue their duties and an admonition that they not try anything. Then she followed Helga down to the dungeons to oversee the confinement of the former mistresses of this castle.
Helena, completely naked as was proper for a slave of the Hellfire Club, hung upside down and moaned a lot. The main reason for that was the fact that all her weight was taken by leather thongs tied around her big toes. It was a very painful position made even worse by the occasional push delivered by Linda or Melody. Swinging increased the pain in her toes until she was sure they would be ripped off her feet very soon.
"Good thing we gagged her," commented Melody, after taking a sip of her champagne. "I wouldn't want to hear what she thinks of us right now." She reached out a hand to grab the tightly bound elbows of the hanging girl and pull until the tilted. Then she let go and watched in delight as the former head of the Hellfire Club swung in an arc that took her almost to the far wall. On each downswing her long black hair swept the floor.
"Yeah. And good idea to gag this one, too," Linda said from the comer of the room where she was applying a tightening turn to the metal clamps on Olga's nipples. Like her compatriot, Olga was naked and tightly bound and gagged. She was kneeling on a surface of sharp rocks set in concrete, legs bound and arms behind her with the elbows tightly bound with thin cord. A rope from her collar around her neck went up to an overhead hook so she couldn't fall over. It also prevented her from crawling off the rocky square designed to punish a naked slavegirl. Each of the metal clamps was a small square of metal with a sliding bar tightened down by a thumbscrew. The bottom side of that bar was serrated so it would bit into the tender flesh of the nipple. Olga whined through her nose with the increasing pain.
"I know this is mild," Linda told the kneeling girl. "But it's only the beginning. You and Helena are going to be slaves of the new Hellfire Club for a very long time." She laughed.
On the other side of the room, Helena gasped then cried out through the gag as an alligator clip was cruelly snapped on one nipple. A second muffled scream echoed as the mate was attached to the other nipple.
"Just a beginning," Linda said to herself. "Just a beginning."
Epilogue
"So you think we should keep the Hellfire Club active?" asked Melody as Linda finished tying the final knot.
"Don't see why not?" she replied as she stepped back to check the rope bondage she had just applied to the naked form of Melody. "I mean, the idea is okay. If rich women want to play around with female slaves, why not? So long as they don't mistreat those slaves too badly."
"Like throwing them to the sharks?" teased Melody.
"We would never do that. Would we?"
"Of course not. Nor would we ever seriously injure a slavegirl. But," Melody replied as she turned around to show off the elbows crushed together bondage on her arms, "don't you feel a little funny about that? I mean, a short time ago you were kidnapped and held against you will. And you must have resented it. Look at some of the things you've been doing to Helena and Olga. That flogging! Helena won't be able to sit down for a week."
Linda pouted for a second then smiled. "I guess it's different when you're the one holding the whip. I know I'll treat my slaves well. They will be punished. Have to do that to keep slavegirls in line, you know. And they'll probably hate me. But I will take care of them and see that they don't get hurt beyond a reasonable amount."
"Will we get some new slavegirls?" asked Melody.
"Variety is the spice of life," said Linda as she tossed off her clothes.
"How true, how true!"
"From what you tell me, getting new girls won't be hard. Never was according to Helena." Then Linda turned serious for a moment. "But what about the other members of the Hellfire Club? Will they go along with the change of management?"
"I'll invite them here one at a time. If they don't like the new way of things, then they'll just become slaves themselves!"
"What about Helena and Olga? Won't they have family or friends who will come looking for them?"
"Rainbow's End is a big secret. And you saw that pile of papers I had them sign?"
"You mean the ones they signed when you had one of their breasts in that guillotine device and threatened to cut it off?"
"Yeah, those papers. Well, there was power of attorney, quick claim deeds, and a lot of other legal stuff. Basically, I now own or control all their wealth. And neither has much in the way of family."
"I like your mind, it's devious!" Linda patted the naked teenager on the bottom. "On the bed with you."
Her legs being free made it easy for Melody to jump on the bed and bounce playfully. "We're going to have so much fun, aren't we?"
"You had better believe it," replied Linda as she picked up a pair of handcuffs. "We're going to have fun every day of our lives." She locked one cuff around her left wrist. 'Tomorrow I'm going to stake Helena out in the middle of the island and pour honey all over her body. Then I'll watched as the ants try to eat her alive." She put her wrists behind her back and locked the other cuff on. "Then I'll come back and maybe, just maybe, untie you from the hogtie I'm going to leave you in after we finish playing tonight." She knelt on the bed and looked down at the youth with real love in her eyes. "Then, in the afternoon, you can tie me to beam hanging out over the ocean and let me dangle for a few hours while you play with Olga."
"Oh, joy!" cried Melody. "Can I tie a vibrator inside your pussy before I hang you?"
