Chapt. 13
Angelique came round slowly, with a splitting headache. And not only her head
hurt, her back did too. As lucidity returned, slowly, she took stock of her
situation. She was lying on the floor, hog-tied. She was gagged. She was quite
unable to move. And there was no sound in the room. She tried turning her head
to one side; no-one. She turned it the other way, and saw one of the legs of the
chair she had tied Mike to. There was a foot attached to it. Straining her neck,
she saw that Martine was tied naked in the chair, her head slumped forward,
obviously asleep. Of Mike there was no sign. Sluggishly, she came to the
horrible conclusion that, if she was tied up, and Martine too, then the only
possible explanation was that Mike had got free. But where was he? Christ! - her
back hurt! He had tied her wrists and ankles tightly together, so that her back
was bent into an arc. She must have been out for some time, for it to ache like
that. Her shoulders were beginning to feel the strain.
It was obvious to Angelique that she was in big trouble. After the way she had
treated Mike, he would be out for revenge, and she would be the object of it!
She had to get free. She struggled, her fingers trying to find the knots in the
cords that bound her. She found them, but they were tied far too tightly for her
to have any chance of undoing them. She tried anyway, and broke a finger-nail.
That was no good. She decided that she would have to try to move over to Martine
and try to undo HER cords. It was then that she found that movement was
impossible. The effect of her legs being bent up behind her was to hold them
wide open, so that her position was very stable. So stable that it was
impossible to even roll over. And her struggles only made the pain in her back
and shoulders worse. She tried shouting, but the amount of noise she could make
around and through the ring gag was not enough to wake Martine. In any case,
even if she did succeed in waking her, the girl was as securely tied as she was,
so it wouldn't really help. Slowly Angelique began to realise that there was
nothing she could do to help herself, she was in deep shit...
Mike came too slowly. He was lying naked on his bed. As consciousness returned
he became aware of a dull ache in his balls and memory came flooding back. The
memory of the hours Angelique had spent torturing him. And now he was free, and
she was up there, hog-tied, waiting for him! He rolled off the bed, muscles
still stiff, and staggered into the shower, where he spend a good 15 minutes
letting the hot water get the wrinkles out of his body. When he emerged, he felt
a lot better and somewhat more clear-headed. His balls ached less - although he
didn't know it, the TENS machine, whilst it hurt like hell, left no lasting
effects. The ache he felt came mainly from Angelique's rough handling of them,
and the beating with the silicone tubing. He could live with that, the main
thing was that he was free, free from that bitch's ministrations. He would make
damn sure that she never got another chance at him! He would also make sure that
she paid for what she had done to him.
With that thought in mind, he went down to the kitchen and fixed himself coffee
and some museli. With that inside him he turned his attention to what he was
going to do next. The first thing was to get himself dressed in an appropriate
manner - he knew a bit about psychology too! When he had finished, he looked at
himself in the mirror. He was wearing a leather hood which he had bought at a
local sex shop. It integrated a mask which covered the upper part of his face
and his nose, and looked very much like what he imagined a medieval torturer
would have worn. It looked menacing. He was wearing the leather pouch which
confined his cock and balls, though he had taken care not to do it up too
tightly, he was still too sore for any pressure. Heavy leather wrist-straps and
leather sandals completed his outfit. Ready now, he went silently upstairs and
carefully and quietly turned the door handle and pushed it slowly open.
Martine was still slumped in the chair, fast asleep. Angelique was lying on her
belly, facing away from him. He could see all the muscles in her shoulders and
arms, pulled tight as they were by the tension in her legs and her efforts to
relieve her aching body. From where he was standing he could see clearly the
widespread legs, the thin fabric of the hot-pants drawn up into the crack of her
sex and the twin creases where her thighs developed into the cheeks of her ass.
Her head hung low, but even as he watched, she lifted it, in an attempt to
relieve the strain on her neck, and then let it sink down again. He grinned to
himself - she had been hog-tied for nearly seven hours, so she was most probably
feeling quite a lot of pain.
Going round in front of her, he squatted down, grabbed a handful of hair and
pulled her head up until he could see her face. She stared up at him.
"Well, well, still here, I see!" he said sardonically. "How nice of you to wait
for me! I'm glad you did, I'm sure we're going to have a lot of fun together
over the next 48 hours."
The words chilled her and she looked at him pleadingly.
Mike laughed.
"Oh, come on now, you don't really expect to be able to torture me the way you
did and then expect me not to want to get my own back, do you?"
Her heart sank. Truth was, she had hoped, but it was obvious that hope was a
pretty vain thing in the circumstances.
"No, my dear colleague, after a good night's sleep - which I expect you did not
have - I have just spent the most delicious half an hour thinking up things that
we can do together. Or rather, things that I can do to you. Not to mention
Martine, I'm sure she would be only to pleased to watch, considering the fact
that you gave her a pretty hard time too In fact, I might even let her have a go
at you, I'm sure she'd like to. That apart, I hadn't finished punishing her for
stealing my exam subject, so when I get tired of watching you jerking around
like a puppet on a string, I shall be able to entertain myself with her.
Incidentally, how did you know she would be here with me this weekend? And how
did you get in here? Oh well, never mind, I'm quite sure that after a while you
will be more than willing to tell me In fact, you will be dying to tell me!"
At these words Angelique quivered. She was a physical coward, she hated any form
of pain and the idea of what he might do to her made her feel faint. Indeed, she
would have loved to be able to faint, and then come round and find that it was
all a bad dream. Unfortunately, the pain in her back and shoulders not only
stopped her from doing so, it also told her that all this was all too real.
Leaving Angelique to her thoughts, Mike stood up and went over to the sleeping
Martine. He lifted her head by grabbing a handful of hair, and then woke her up
by the simple expedient of slapping her face. Martine came too with a start, and
stared up at her tormentor, tears already forming in her eyes.
"Good morning, Martine," he said, "I trust you slept well."
Surprisingly enough, she had, she'd been so exhausted after all that she'd gone
through that she had slept like a baby, even though her position, upright in the
chair, was not particularly comfortable. She took stock of her surroundings, and
remembered with horror what had happened to her. And here was Mike, inexplicably
free, dressed like a medieval executioner and obviously ready to carry on where
he had left off. Then her eyes caught sight of Angelique. She quickly realised
that Angelique was as much a prisoner now as she was herself. Hope flared up -
maybe Mike would devote all his attention to her erstwhile torturer and leave
her alone. His next words dispelled her hopes.
"As you can see, Angelique has joined us, so I am sure that I shall be able to
entertain the pair of you as you deserve. Lucky me, two beautiful women to play
with. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few preparations to make."
Both women trembled at this, each wondering just what he had in store for her.
Whatever t was, they were both quite sure that they were not going to like it!
Going back over to Angelique, Mike untied the cord fastening her ankles to her
wrists. She slumped forward and screamed through the ring-gag as the pain of
suddenly-relieved muscles hit her. It was almost as painful as when her back was
bent. Mike pulled off her boots and then fastened straps to each wrist and
ankle. The right-hand wrist strap he attached to one end of a 4ft length of
wooden curtain rod, about two inches in diameter, leaving several feet of cord
dangling. A second one was tied to the right-hand ankle strap. Next, he grabbed
another handful of Angelique's hair and started to pull her upright. It was very
painful and much as she would have liked to resist, she let him pull her up to
her feet. He tied a length of cord round the hair and fixed the other end to an
overhead ring in the beam above her, so that she was obliged to stand there.
Then he stood back and considered.
Even though he knew he was much stronger than her, especially weakened as she
was from the hog-tie, he decided that he was not going to take any chances. And
in any case, he knew very well that it would be psychologically more hurtful if
he managed things so that she realised that there would never be any chance of
her getting free.
Tying a longer length of cord round her waist, the knot on her stomach, he
pulled the end down, between her legs and up to her left wrist. He pulled the
cord as tight as he could, so that it cut into the crack of her sex, and
fastened it to her wrist. Then he undid the cord holding her wrists together,
being very careful to keep a firm grip on the right one. Taking the end of the
cord that fixed her right wrist to the rod, he attached it to an ankle strap.
The result was that Angelique stood there, one wrist held firmly behind her
back, the other pulled down towards her feet, with no latitude for action. He
then released her left hand, brought it round in front of her and tied it to the
other end of the rod.
The rod had a thick cup-hook screwed into it, right in the centre. A cord from
this to the ring that already held her hair, the untying of the cord to the
ankle strap, a quick, strong pull, and Angelique stood there, her hands above
her head and wide apart, quite helpless. Finally cords were attached to the
ankle straps, led out to rings screwed into the floor boards and she stood in a
taut X-shape, head still held high by the cord in her hair. Standing in front of
her, Mike looked into her eyes.
"So how does that feel, sweetheart?" he asked. "Now you know what it feels like
to be completely helpless and defenceless, don't you. Of course, you're still
dressed, if you can call that outfit 'dressed', but don't worry, that won't last
for long."
Angelique stared at the half-mask, hate and fear battling for dominance in her
expression. From her mouth, held wide open by the ring-gag, a thin trickle of
saliva trickled down her chin. She tried to say something, but all that came out
were unintelligible sounds. She was frightened. In fact, she was scared to
death.
Returning to Martine, Mike dragged her, chair and all, over until she was facing
Angelique, about 3 feet in front of her. Working quickly, with the help of two
more wooden rods, he soon had her in exactly the same position as her teacher,
facing her, the only difference being that Martine was naked.
"You will forgive me if I leave you for a moment," he said, "I need to go and
find a couple of accessories. With that he turned and left the room.
The two women, held immovably, stared at one another. Both were thinking the
same thing, "What is he going to do to me?"
When Mike came back into the room he was carrying a small cradle-type car jack
and a 4ft length of one inch diameter steel rod. These he placed on a chair.
"I thought that, for starters, we would do something collective," he said. "But
first, we need to even things up - Martine is naked, so we'll just have to put
Miss Viard in the same state. Fair's fair, after all." So saying, he picked up
the big shears he had used to finish undressing Martine and swiftly ran them up
the back of Angelique's black bodice. The material fell away and Angelique felt
the cool air of the room on her breasts. Mike put down the shears and cupped one
full, heavy breast in each hand, pressing himself up against the woman's back as
he did so. He squeezed them gently, rolling the nipples between finger and
thumb, not hard, but enough to awaken then, so that they swelled up and
stiffened. Angelique had gone rigid at the feel of his hands on her delicate
skin. Whilst she had enjoyed touching him when he was helpless, it was quite
another thing to have him pawing her. Her lesbian tendency came to the fore, it
has hateful to have a MAN touching her breasts, one of the most intimate parts
of her body. And what was worse, she could feel her nipples responding to her
touch, despite her efforts not to feel anything sexual. Her body was out of her
control, it was reacting to his hands automatically. Mike chuckled in her ear.
"Feels as though you like this, sweetheart."
She shook her head violently in protest, the cord tied to her hair and the ring
in the beam giving her several painful tugs as she did so. She didn't like it,
but she couldn't control her body's sexual response.
Mike started increasing the pressure on her nipples, now that they were turgid.
She felt the pain begin to build up. At first it was a sort of tightness, a mere
pressure on the sensitive points. But this soon changed to pain, a pain which
became more and more severe as he squeezed harder and harder. Quickly the pain
became almost too much to bear and she yelled through the gag, trying to beg him
to stop. But Mike had no intention of stopping, the memory of how she had
squeezed his balls was vivid in his mind and he was determined that she should
feel the same sort of pain, and helplessness. He increased the pressure further,
and she screamed, a quite audible scream, since the ring-gag was not that
effective in cutting off sound. Mike didn't mind, there were only Martine and
himself to hear her, and the screams were proof that his fingers and thumbs were
producing the desired effect!
Then, without reducing the pressure, Mike rolled the squashed nipples between
finger and thumb. The effect was electric, Angelique literally howled with the
pain, twisting her body frantically in a futile attempt to tear her nipples out
of their crushing embrace. The only result was more painful wrenches of her
hair.
Suddenly Mike let go. The rush of blood back into the tips of her breasts was
almost as painful as the pinching. Mike ran his hands down over her rib-cage and
onto her belly, the palms pressing gently against the soft flesh, as he
whispered in her ear.
"And how do you like that, darling? About as much as I liked you doing the same
thing to my balls, I'll bet! And guess what. In a moment I am going to start
sliding my hands back up to your tits. Then I am going to cup them, take hold of
your nipples between my fingers and thumbs, and squeeze them again - harder!"
Angelique tried desperately to speak, to plead with him, to beg him not to do
it, it was just too painful! All that came out were garbled sounds. Mike knew
very well - from experience! - what it was like to be told that someone was
going to do something very painful to you, and then to have to wait for it to
happen, helpless, unable to do anything to avoid the pain. Psychological
torture!
Slowly, his hands crept up her body. She shook her head, hurting herself again.
She felt the palms of his hands cup her heavy breasts and lift them slightly.
Then the finger and thumb on each nipple. She screamed at him in anger and
desperation. Then the pressure came back, the pain flaring up more quickly this
time in the over-sensitised nubs. She started screaming again, this time with
the pain. The pressure was so great that she thought her nipples would be
crushed and damaged beyond repair. But worse was to come; without warning, he
rolled them again, increasing the pressure even more. Regardless of the pain in
her scalp, she twisted and turned within the limits of her bonds, trying to tear
her breasts away from the cruel grip. Her screams were now quite loud, even with
the gag in her mouth. And Mike's fingers squeezed and rolled on! The pain
invaded her whole breasts, so that she didn't feel Mike's hands, only the two
globes of fire.
Martine, standing facing her teacher, was fascinated, and also frightened. Mike
had already given her a taste of what it was like to have her nipples pinched,
though nothing like as severely as what he was doing to Angelique, and that had
been bad enough. Fascinated, because, to all appearances, nothing was happening.
She saw merely a man holding a woman's breasts, in a seemingly loving embrace.
There was no movement, no outward sign of the infliction of pain. But it was
quite obvious that Angelique was suffering, and badly. The contortions of her
lovely body and the ever louder screams were evidence of that. She didn't mind
at all that Mike was hurting her fellow captive, on the contrary, it would serve
the bitch right for hurting her. What she did worry about was that Mike might
decided to do the same thing to her!
Just as suddenly as before, Mike let go of the two nubs of flesh and, just as
before, Angelique screamed with the pain of returning circulation. Martine
stared; Angelique's nipples were swollen to at least twice their normal size and
were purple. She winced, God!, that must hurt!
It did. Although Mike was no longer squeezing them the pain was just as sharp.
Angelique couldn't look down, so she was unable to see her own nipples, but it
felt as though the swine had done some serious damage to them. She gasped for
air, her chest heaving. Towards the end she had been screaming so hard she had
not been breathing properly. She could feel his hands, back flat on her belly
again.
"Please, please God, don't let him do that to me again!" she prayed.
Mike just stood there, feeling the warmth of her body against his own, waiting
patiently for her to calm down, for the pain to fade a bit - he didn't want her
distracted in any way when he moved on to the next act. He thought for a minute
about giving her another squeeze - if he did, the pain in those bruised nubs of
flesh would be quite incredible. But on the other hand, perhaps it might be as
well to give them a rest, he could always come back to them later!
"Tell me, Angelique," he said quietly, "what would you feel about me giving them
another longer, harder squeeze." He felt her body go rigid and a torrent of
garbled screams, pleading and abuse came through the gag. She was terrified,
another session like that and she would go mad, she was sure she would. She just
couldn't take anymore of that terrible pain! At the same time, she knew that if
he did decide to torture her like that again, there was absolutely nothing she
could do about it. She wailed in despair.
Mike laughed quietly in her ear. "I'll bet you're sorry now that you squeezed my
balls, aren't you!" She was indeed, she found herself wishing that she had never
listened outside his office that fatal night, had never known that he was going
to punish Martine, and that she had never had the stupid idea of interfering.
Suddenly the hands left her belly and, before she even had time to register the
fact, his fingers flicked her nipples. It was only a light touch, but the pain
flared up anew and she screamed again. Mike chuckled. He knew, from his research
on the Internet, that her nipples would remain painful for hours yet, and
extremely sensitive for days.
"My, my, touchy, aren't we. No pun intended."
Stepping back, he picked up the shears, pulled the waist-band of her hot-pants
away from her back and slid one blade down inside them, making sure that it was
in contact with her skin. She froze. There came a long, hissing sound, as the
blades slit the material and the waist-band went slack. He moved the blade down,
forcing it up into the crack between the cheeks of her ass. She felt the cold
steel touch her anus. Again the hissing sound, and then the feel of the blade
sliding upwards, pressing into the slit of her sex.
"I just hope I get this right," she heard him say in a casual sort of manner.
"If I don't, the next cut might not be to your liking." Angelique went
absolutely rigid, willing herself to remain perfectly still, but at the same
time her body quivered with anticipation. She could feel the blade invading her
slit, pressing into the most intimate part of her body. She could take that, it
didn't hurt. What had her screaming silently inside her head was the thought of
the other blade, about to close, biting through the thin material and... but no,
the thought was too awful... through one of the lips of her sex!
Sadistically, Mike didn't close the blades, but held the shears tightly against
her, letting the fear build up in her. Then, very slowly, he started to squeeze
the two handles together. She heard the drawn-out hiss again and screwed herself
up against the burning bite of the blade. The sound stopped, and as the
realisation that her worst fears were unfounded hit her, she literally slumped
in relief. This cost her another wrench on her scalp, which was by now quite
sore.
Mike grinned to himself, he could imagine what she was feeling. Carefully he
slid the blade up to the waistband and made the last cut. Her hot pants now
looked like two garter belts, ringing her thighs. Quickly he cut first one, then
the other, and Angelique was naked. Mike moved round behind Martine, cupped the
cheeks of her ass and looked over her shoulder at Angelique. She was worth
looking at. Her up-stretched arms held her magnificent breasts high on her
chest, flattening them slightly, the bright red nipples, swollen and pulsing,
standing proud on them. Her belly was flat and descended smoothly to a small
forest of dark, curly pubic hair that almost hid her sex. Almost, but not quite,
because her outstretched legs parted the slit, giving a tantalising glimpse of
the soft pink membranes within. The muscles in her thighs were taut, as were
those of her calves. She really was something, especially presented like this,
bound, helpless, at his entire disposal. Martine felt his cock go hard against
her ass. She also felt his hands squeezing the cheeks of her ass rhythmically as
he inspected Angelique. It was not an unpleasant feeling.
"Now, I am afraid that Martine is becoming rather bored with all this," he said,
"we haven't been taking much notice of her lately. I think it would be only fair
to let her play too. That's why I mentioned earlier something collective. I've
decided that it's playtime, and you two delightful ladies are going to play at
seesaws."
Neither of the naked women had the slightest idea what he was talking about, but
both instinctively guessed that it wouldn't be a game with much fun in it - at
least, not for them!
