Group XS

Disclaimer: This story is a fantasy which contains graphic descriptions of sex, violence, rape, non-consensual imprisonment, scatology and torture. It is definitely NOT for anyone under 21 or anyone who is offended by such material. This story is fictional and any resemblance to anyone dead or alive is purely coincidental.

The story is long and I will happily add further chapters if people let me know they are interested in more - I welcome comments and suggestions from readers but all flames will be ignored.

drsaavik@hotmail.com

Group XS

By "Dr Saavik"

Chapter 2

Date Monday 18 th October 20.00

Even as Catherine was having these thoughts, in a house set well off the main road a couple of hours drive away from the city, there was evidence to the contrary.

The house dated from the 1930's and was a peculiar mixture of Victorian austerity and gothic excess. Basically a square red brick house, the front had four columns supporting a canopy which stretched for the width of the building and forming a balcony for the first floor rooms.

There were three floors to the house, the third set in the roof where small windows protruded, the ornate tiles and ridge to the roof contrasting starkly with the dark brooding institutional building in whose shadow the house stood.

In the dark, lights could be seen blazing in the house behind drawn curtains; by contrast the next door building had scarcely a glimmer of light showing, blinds drawn tightly in front of it's small barred windows.

The light from a set of headlamps passed briefly across the front of the larger building, for a moment reminiscent of a search light exploring the darkness of a prison camp, before focusing on the neighbouring house. The lights on the car dimmed suddenly as the engine was switched off.

A tall man in a business suit climbed out of the driver's side and a young woman, in a short skirt and blouse, the passenger's door.

Both strode purposefully up the steps of the house and, as they approached the top step, the front door opened and light spilled across them both, highlighting the man's strong features and grey hair and the woman's soft face and cascading locks of blonde hair. They might have been father and daughter or even husband and trophy wife, it was difficult to tell. What was obvious was that they walked with a unity of purpose inside without a second glance at the maid who opened the door.

A passer by might have noticed that the maid moved very stiffly, that she didn't greet their arrival and that her uniform, whilst capturing the spirit of the French maid, fell far short in terms of decency. But the house and its neighbour were set well away from the gaze of passing strangers, their perimeter guarded by a high brick wall, so no one saw the couple arrive.

Some minutes later the same man strode down the stairs of the house, his business suit gone and, in its place, a black Major's uniform from the 1940's. The man was now dressed as a Sturmbannführer from the hated Gestapo!

He waited patiently for the woman to come down, his eyes falling on the maid who now knelt patiently beside the door, her hands behind her neck and her face pressed to the floor as if in supplication. She braced herself, feeling the man's brooding presence behind her. She could feel his eyes taking in the spectacle of her well rounded rump displayed so wantonly before him as it strained through the fabric of the horrendous panties she was forced to wear.

His cock leapt with eager anticipation as he focused on the strap which cleaved her buttocks and buried itself deep within the folds of her cunt, conscious that the strap had a sinister purpose – it held the huge dildos which filled both the girl's ass and cunt in place; it had the added value of ensuring the little spikes which peppered the inside of the gusset of her panties were continually pressed deep and uncomfortably into the tender folds of her pussy and the puckered rosebud of her ass.

The man's hand strayed between the maid's legs and he felt her stiffen as he explored the deep crevice, his strong fingers kneading the imprisoned flesh underneath and enjoying the pain they created as they compressed the short spikes under the satin fabric more deeply into her tortured body.

“Are you Jewish?” He asked the maid.

The maid shook her head in vehement denial, her taped lips unable to answer the simple question. The man's right hand grabbed the maid's hair and he viciously pulled her upright, at the same time and in the same motion, turning her round so he could look into her face, as he did so the chain around her right ankle which tethered her to her station near the door rattled excitedly on the wooden floor. He saw fear in her eyes and savoured the moment.

“We'll see when we've finished talking to your friend downstairs.” He said, his hand gently stroking the flesh-coloured tape which had been wound time and again around her face. From where he stood it was easy to see the obscene bulges in her cheeks which suggested that her mouth had not only been packed with cloth… it had been cruelly stuffed. He guessed, rightly as it turned out, that the maid probably had two, or even three, pairs of her Mistress' soiled panties crammed inside her mouth and he wondered briefly what it tasted like to have the sweet flavour of another woman's sex mixed with the salty pungent taste of her urine, in which the panties would have been soaked, permeating her taste buds.

“If she tells us otherwise, you know we'll have to punish you, don't you?” He said with a leering smile of anticipation. “Because we have some very special ways of punishing Jews here.” He continued, his right hand suddenly striking her hard across the face. “Especially Jews who lie to us!”

The girl knew all about the ways they had here to punish girls; she had experienced many of them. Her fear at experiencing more showed in her eyes, and the man was about to comment on her fear when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned to see the woman he had arrived with stepping carefully down the stairs in her spiked heels.

“What do you think?” She said proudly waving her hand over the black uniform she too wore, a uniform made from shining black rubber which hugged every generous curve of her youthful body.

“You look stunning Frau Obersturmführer!” The man said, turning his back on the maid and joining the uniformed woman as they made their way across the hall and to a door under the stairs.

“Let's go and talk to this one's friend… perhaps she'll tell us whether this girl is being truthful when she denies she is a Jew!” He said pointedly before the pair made their way through the door and down the flight of stairs behind which led to a series of underground rooms and corridors.

They halted in front of a door with a large Swastika painted on the outside and the man swung the door opened stepped back allowing the woman to enter first, “After you Frau Obersturmführer.” he said.

Inside the room their senses were immediately assailed by the sights, sound and smell of fear and pain. The room was large and had several doors leading from it. To their left as they entered a naked girl was spread out in an “X” from a wooden frame, her back, ass and thighs purple and red with a mass of interconnecting welts and wheals,

Further in, but still on their left, a girl stood blind and mute, her head encased in a heavy leather helmet, her hands tucked safely out of harms way in a single sleeve behind her back, struggling to stand upright to take the strain off her tits which had been drawn almost vertically upright by two hooks attached to the ceiling and embedded in the meat of her breasts.

The evil Gestapo pair halted in their stride to admire the sight of a girl astride a wooden saw horse… she was held in place by the wire nails hammered through her pussy lips into the horse!

As they walked through the dungeon to a door at the back, they also passed a girl crammed into an impossibly small cage, and two more who were motionless, hanging from their wrists.

But the pair's interest did not lie in this room, even though they might later have some fun with one of these girls. Their interest lay through a door marked “Interrogation Room 2”.

Inside, the room was smaller than the one they had just passed through and relatively spartan. In fact the room had little in it apart from a pair of what looked like gymnastic parallel bars, two metal lockers, two chairs – one an odd looking armchair with no seat - a stool, a gleaming metal trolley and a glass-fronted cabinet with an array of sinister implements on display. Aside from the door through which they had entered, there was another door on the far side of the room which had a small black sign on it bearing the legend “ Prisoner holding cells and solitary confinement .”

The man made his way to the first of the metal cabinets and fiddled with the heavy lock. As he swung the door open he said “Ahh! Fraulein Meyer, how delightful to see you again!”

A girl stood inside the metal locker squeezed impossibly tight on all four sides. Had she been able to move inside the locker the yards of thin cord encircling her body and embedded deep in her flesh would have prevented any but the smallest movement. Not that she would have wanted to move very far because the four walls of the locker bristled with tiny pin pricks.

The only parts of her body which were shielded in any way from the pins were her head, which was encased in a featureless leather hood with the word “Juden” picked out in white lettering across the forehead; her tits which were in a constricting white bra which had a black triangle with a blue Star of David on each cup, arranged so her nipples protruded through the centre of each star; her nether regions which were encased in a ridiculously tight panty girdle which had a matching emblem over the cunt and, should she have been able to turn around, her ass. On her feet she wore ‘ballet boots' which held her feet in an agonising enpointe position. There were garters coming from the panties which held up her stockings, but these afforded her little or no protection, and a strap drawn between her legs which held the massive dildos inside her.

As the door opened on her, Becky Meyer was unable to see who stood behind it. She was hot, frightened, in incredible discomfort from the torture she had so far endured allied to the pins and the cramps associated with her predicament. As she heard the voice she knew her torturers had returned and she felt a stream of her own warm piss run down her stockinged thighs as her subconscious mind reacted.

.

Becky had no idea how long she had been here, it felt like a week but had, in fact, only been 2 days; 2 days in which her solitary confinement had been broken just 4 times when unseen hands had forced water inside her through a tube they pushed up her nose.

The man laughed as he saw the stream of piss run out of Becky. “Look!” He said to the woman who accompanied him, “She's so pleased to see us she's wet herself with the excitement!” Roughly he pulled Becky out of the locker, noting as he did so the puddle of stale piss at her feet and thinking “She'll have to be punished for that!” as he did so.

It was a massive relief to Becky's tortured and cramped body to be free of the confines of the locker, a relief which spread through her body as the tight ropes were removed. A glimmer of hope sprang in her heart. Perhaps they were here to release her! That glimmer faded and died as she was man-handled to one side of the parallel bars and bent over one of the bars. Two pairs of hands quickly secured her wrists and ankles wide apart so she was not only bent double but made available to them both. Becky cried to herself inside the hood. She knew what was to come from the last time… and the time before that.

She felt one of the pair, it was in fact the woman, unfasten the strap between her legs and work the two dildos from out of inside her through the devilish holes in her panties. She felt familiar fingers, she knew immediately they belonged to the woman, start to gently tease her clitoris, drawing the bud out from inside its shroud as her body, despite the pain with which it was wracked, started to respond to her ministrations. She knew what this woman was capable of. She had felt those fingers before, drawing her near to climax only to let her fall into painful oblivion. On other occasions when they had been torturing her, the fingers, and even the hand, had worked her into a climactic frenzy and let her come. They had made her come time and again; not for Becky's pleasure, but rather to make the tortures which followed, the clamps, the probes and the electricity hurt her even more.

“You see!” The woman said, her voice muffled by the leather encasing Becky's head, “I told you she was a horny bitch! Her pussy's beginning to get wet!” The fingers continued their rhythmical work. Kneading and pulling; stroking and teasing. Despite her determination not to respond, Beck's body betrayed her and her hips began to move as she responded to the fingers.

The woman looked at the man and smiled. “She wants to come I think!” She said. “But I don't think we want to let her, do we?”

They were playing a game with Becky. “No. We shouldn't let her come.” The man replied. “She's just proving just how dirty a slut she is. She knows she is a dirty Jewish whore… and she knows what we do with dirty Jewish whores…”

While he had been speaking the man had opened the glass-fronted cabinet and taken from it a length of rubber hose made all the heavier by the sand with which it was packed. A favourite instrument of the Gestapo he hefted it and waited while the woman teasing Becky moved out of the way.

“We punish them!” He said, punctuating his sentence with a massive blow from the hose across Becky's ass cheeks.

Becky felt the sickening weight of the blow which might have moved her and the frame to which she was attached had it not been firmly bolted to the floor. She felt the blow and immediately felt a sense of relief that it had not hurt as badly as the impact suggested. But sadly Becky's body was once again betraying her; just as she had betrayed her friends under torture.

After a moments relief Becky felt a gathering cloud of pain as it formed throughout her whole body. But this was no rain cloud; it was a dark hurricane of a storm cloud, and the pain hit her as she had struck her with lightening. Inside her hood Becky let loose a scream which would have been heard over a storm… had she not been hooded and gagged. The muffled “Aaaaaarrrrggghhhh!!!!” which did escape was music to the man's ears and he landed another blow with enthusiastic gusto.

It took a little less time for Becky to feel this blow and again her scream erupted into the brief silence which followed the dull “Thuddd!” of the hose's impact. Again she felt the wave of pain course through her body, but this time it was as if the wave was built on top of the previous one – far from being less intense the pain built to a new crescendo.

“Aaaaaarrrrggghhhh!!!!” Went up the muffled cry.

“Thudd!!!” went the hose.

Again the wave of pain seemed to build on the first, rolling over Becky like some massive breaker crashing on the shore.

“Aaaaaarrrrggghhhh!!!!”

Like a coiled snake the hose struck again with lightening speed and with equally devastating impact.

“Aaaaaarrrrggghhhh!!!!”

The woman watched the onslaught from the comfort of one of the chairs and allowed her practised hand to slide under her short rubber skirt and toy with her own clitoris through the thin latex gusset of her panties. She didn't let herself come – she would save that for much later – but her eyes took on a dream-like quality as she enjoyed the sensation and listened to the music of pain being unleashed in front of her.

When the man eventually finished the woman continued her gentle pleasuring; there was no need to move just yet – she knew what would come next.

Becky might have prayed for unconscious oblivion, but sadly her wish was not granted. She felt every shattering blow from the hose. She felt every sick black wave of pain as it ran through her tortured body. When he finished, she hung over the rail like a limp rag-doll, her limbs still pulled taut by the ropes. It was an effort to breathe now, the pain in her body was so great, and it wasn't until he stroked her ass where the blows had landed that Becky was capable of any reaction.

The gentle touch, the caress of an artist admiring his work, the touch of a lover was all it took to bring back the pain as if she had been struck again.

“Poor baby!” the man said. “Does it hurt?” Mimicking a concerned parent before unleashing a series of staccato spanks all over the bruised and battered ass.

The pain came back with vengeance and Becky was hardly aware when the man ceased his spanking and positioned himself directly behind her. If she heard the sound of him unbuckling the belt of his trousers it didn't register. She couldn't hear the gentle sound of him greasing up his engorged cock as he eyed the centre of the Star of David which covered her ass.

The first Becky was aware that she was about to receive more pain, more humiliation and more degradation was as he slid his rock-hard bulbous and veiny cock through the seat of her panties and into her ass. For a brief moment her sphincter resisted the challenge posed by his cock. And then the puckered bud blossomed, opening wide like a sunflower as he drove his cock home. He deliberately drove his cock fully home, making sure his weight pressed against her tortured ass and ensuring the little spikes, from which she had been relieved when the strap was removed, once again bit into the ring of her anus.

Once he was fully home, the man remained where he was, enjoying the sensation of Becky's anus trying to close around the massive intruder, trying to expel it and expanding and contracting in little flutters of wasted energy. To the man it felt like Becky was gently masturbating his cock; to Becky it felt like he had inserted an over-sized rod of steel into her ass!

Once the first wave of resistance from Becky's ass began to wane, the man began to rhythmically pump in and out of her delicate hole. He particularly enjoyed the pain she felt when he drove into her battered backside and made every effort to thrust harder and harder against her tortured flesh. He thought of what was to come, both for Becky and the unfortunate girl who was to follow her, and felt his cock become even more hard. Becky felt it too and let out a muffled wail of hopeless agony as the already engorged cock swelled to even greater proportions.

Becky would have wailed from fear of what was to come had she been able to see the images of probes and electricity which were coursing through the man's evil mind at that particular moment.

While the man kept up his relentless assault on Becky, the woman shuddered to a minor orgasm. Satisfied, at least for the present, her sadistic mind immediately turned to the next part of Becky's torture. She rose to her feet and went to the glass-fronted cabinet and began to assemble an array of instruments on the metal trolley.

There was a sinister black box with a number of dials and switches on it and two displays – one marked “Amps”, the other “Volts”; there was a collection of clamps on the end of coiled wire leads; there were several metal probes of varying sizes, again on coiled wire leads, the smallest the size of a knitting needle, the largest shaped like a massive metal dildo; there were two pairs of rubber gloves, one plain rubber, the other covered with short metal bristles, again with more of the coiled leads attached; there was a collection of little glass bottles and tiny paint brushes; there was a wire brush the size and shape of a toothbrush; finally, there was a shiny stainless steel scalpel!

The woman glanced over the contents she had lain out on the trolley and rubbed her crotch involuntarily as she anticipated her role in what was to follow, before rolling the trolley over towards where Becky was being anally raped by the man. She then waited patiently for him to finish. With remarkable control he kept battering away at Becky's ass for a further 10 minutes before eventually coming to a shuddering climax.

Most men would have been satisfied to have fucked the ass off a bound and beaten girl: but not the grey-haired man. As he felt himself coming a wave of pleasure swept over him and he thrust as deep as he could, trying with one last effort to inflict still more pain before slowly withdrawing his cock. As he pulled his cock from the hole in Becky's panties a large spittle of his semen attached itself to her panties and slowly ran down to her inner thigh. The man paid no attention to this, instead turning to the woman with the trolley, a broad, satisfied, grin spreading across his face. He was not grinning because of what he had just done; he was grinning because his sadistic thirst still needed to be quenched by what was to follow.

“Now the real fun can begin!” He said as he stuffed his still almost fully engorged cock awkwardly back in his trousers. “Shall I set her up on the bars?”

Without waiting for the woman to agree, the man began to release Becky's bonds and hauled her upright. He unbuckled the straps around her hood and carefully slackened the lacing at the back before removing it. The integral leather pear gag needed to be worked out of her mouth and eventually came free with a small “Plop!”

Becky found herself blinking in the unfamiliar bright light, and for a moment stood dazed and unfocused as she tried to come to terms with the flood of sense which had been freed with the removal of the hood.

When at last her eyes allowed her to see her surroundings they fell first on the man who had just raped her and then on the woman who stood smirking behind him. As they fell on the trolley which stood between her Gestapo tormenters, Becky tried to scream. “Oh God!!! Please no!!! Not again!!! Haven't you done enough already?” Her vocal chords, having been silenced for so long, only managed to make this come out as a pitiful rasping whisper.

If she had hoped for her plea to be recognised, Becky was sadly disappointed as the man forced her to remove her painful clothing and climb naked onto the parallel bars. When they had tortured her previously, Becky had been strapped to the seat-less chair, so now she was unsure how to perch on the bars.

“Not like that!” the man said in an exasperated tone as Becky tried to drape her legs over the sides of the bars. “Come right to the front and kneel on top of the bars!” He instructed.

Becky could have tried to resist, but she was locked in a room with two other people, her reserves of energy were low and she had no option but to comply – even though she knew with absolute certainty she was about to experience more of the shattering pain she had received just two days before. Once she was in place atop the bars, so her lower legs ran along the top, the man began to strap her legs firmly in place.

Becky was already aware how exposed her cunt and ass were, and as each strap was tightened to the fullest any hope of closing her legs vanished. The man paused in his work to admire her ass, which now bore the bruises and deep red lines he had inflicted with the rubber hose.

When at last she was melded immovably to the top of the bars, the man stepped round between the bars behind her and told her to put her arms together behind her back. He then began to work a single sleeve up her arms, patiently tightening the straps and lacing until her breasts thrust forward invitingly and her elbows were touching behind her. As he did this, Becky could feel a growing pain in her shoulders as they were forced into the unfamiliar position and she became aware of how difficult it was to keep her balance atop the bars unless she allowed herself to fall right back on her haunches.

He walked round in front of her and took a ball which hung from a length of steel wire against the wall in front of her and brought it towards her, lifting it up to her mouth and saying “Open wide!” Becky reluctantly took the enormous metal ball into her mouth and immediately found herself gagging as she bit down on the cold, unyielding steel ball. There was still some slack in the cable, but the man didn't seem in the least perturbed… but then he knew what was to come. He smiled a sly sadistic grin at Becky and said “You're going to want to make sure you keep that in place!”

He then moved back around Becky and pulled a cable from behind her and affixed one end to a “D” ring at the end of her single sleeve. Patiently he began turning a ratchet handle on the wall behind her and the cable attached to her sleeve, which ran over a pulley set in the ceiling behind her, slowly started to move upwards.

As he turned the handle Becky felt her arms lift up behind her and fought to stay balanced as she was pulled first backwards and then forced to bend forward as her arms twisted in their sockets. She was relieved when he stopped turning the handle. Although her arms hurt Becky knew he could have been much more severe in tightening the cable.

The man then whispered to Becky “Better brace yourself for the next bit!” Before kicking a pedal underneath the bars.

Becky had scarcely taken his whisper onboard before the two parallel bars swung outwards and she dropped fully 6”. At the same time her arms were pulled with frightening force upwards behind her and she felt a searing pain in her shoulders. Simultaneously her head jerked forward as the cable attached to the ball in her mouth snapped taut.

Becky let loose another scream, “Aaaaarrrggghhhhh!”

She found herself struggling for breath as pain shot through all her limbs. Her thigh muscles fought an unequal battle against her own body weight to stop her falling further, and as she sank another 1” or so, it was only the combination of the impossibility of opening her legs wider allied to the upwards pull on her shoulders and the strength of her neck muscles which prevented her from falling further.

The man stepped back beside the woman and for a few moments they both admired his handiwork. “Now doesn't that look inviting?” the woman purred as she looked at Becky's cunt which was gaping open with the strain of her position. The woman moved behind Becky where her ass was sticking out invitingly behind her, Becky having adopted a half-crouch atop the bars, and said “Oh look! She's even offering her cute rosebud for us!” the woman examined Becky's ass closely and tenderly wiped a small dribble of semen away from it with her finger before licking her finger clean with a look of rapture on her face.

The man moved over to the one comfortable chair in the room and drew it near to Becky, so he would have a ringside seat, while the woman fetched the stool and settled herself between Becky's wide-stretched legs. “Now then Becky. We can play our games now.” She said, reaching for a bottle which contained lubricant. As she lathered her hands with the lubricant the woman purred like at cat which had got the cream. “You know,” she said, “you admitted to us you were a dirty whore when we had our little chat the other day. I want to see if you are as dirty as you say. I want to see if you get horny having another woman play tender love games with you… because if you are as horny and dirty as you say, I think you'll want to come and come again.”

Becky refused to believe the woman could do anything to arouse her. All she could feel was the pain of straining muscles and stretched tendons, a pain which consumed her whole body and, she felt sure, would shut out any stimulation the woman could give.

For her part the woman knew different. She was well practised in the art of tormenting other girls and she knew the female body, no matter what the level of pain, could be stimulated to reach an orgasm. Her goal, however, wasn't to give Becky a single orgasm… oh no! Her goal was to give Becky as many orgasms as she could stand… and then a few more. The delight of this was that Becky's clitoris, her pussy and her tits would all become so much more sensitive for the torture which was to follow. The woman knew that Becky would fight her taking control of her body; that Becky would her torturer taking control of her sex and her orgasms with her last vestige of spirit. She also knew that Becky would lose the battle, that Becky would feel utterly humiliated to be betrayed by her own body by it responding to another woman. She also knew it would break her spirit far more than any forced anal rape.

But then that was what the grey-haired man and the woman wanted. They wanted to strip away every vestige of Becky's spirit so they could savour her torture the more when the time came for the electricity and the other delights they had in store for Becky. They also knew that by the end Becky would be only too willing to betray her friends and family to be spared more torture.

Sadly for Becky there would be no end to the torture. Once she had betrayed any secrets the pair wanted they would torture her for their own amusement. Once she was so battered and broken that the tortures didn't give them the same pleasure, they would take a sadistic delight in seeing her suffer unbearable humiliations and degradation. They would delight in locking her in the coldest, darkest, most cramped cell they could find and seeing her beg to be fed scraps of food and small quantities of water. They would delight in letting her watch as they laced her food and drink with piss and shit; knowing full well that she would have no alternative save to eat and drink what was offered.

You see Becky had already admitted to them that she was a Jew; she had already admitted she was a dirty, cheap, whore; she had already admitted she was a lesbian… Whether she was or not didn't matter. Whether she had admitted under torture didn't matter. By her own admissions Becky had given the pair cart blanch to do with her anything they wanted. And what they wanted now was for her to betray others - even if she knew them or not. It didn't matter: it was part of their game.