Perfume

Perfume by RubberWolf
© 2003 - RubberWolf - storycodes: M/f; latex; bondage; mummysack; cons/nc; X

Perfume by RubberWolf
Foreword

Firstly, the usual copyright applies to this document. Secondly, this story contains adult material and should only be read by people of an appropriate age. I.E. adults. Thirdly, although a work of fiction, the effect of ultrasound upon the human body, at a given frequency, are documented facts. That is to say that, when the human body is immersed in a field of sound waves, of a given frequency, all of the internal organs will vibrate. Unless the unfortunate person is removed, the effects can prove fatal. I have no idea what effect ultrasound would have on human tissue when used locally, as depicted in this story. I suspect however, that sever damage would result on a cellular level. So before you start cannibalising that ultrasonic tooth brush that aunt Petunia brought for you last Xmas, which you have never gotten on with, allow me to give you a word of warning. Don’t try this at home. After all, it’s just a story and there are limits to the research that authors should not be expected to conduct in the name of accuracy. So don’t say you were not warned. Enjoy.

Perfume
By RubberWolf

Becky eyed her competitors at the Annual Perfume conference from the cosy niche she had secured for herself by the bar. The usual suspects were in attendance. The big names in perfume mingled freely with the representatives of shops, distributors and middlemen. Other, smaller manufacturers roamed the venue in the hope of getting that elusive big order, or of gaining sage words of wisdom from the great and the good.

Becky’s could afford to sit on the sidelines and let the world come to her, since she was the purchasing manager for a reasonably large chain of chemists. The ebb and flow of people would gravitate towards her eventually, seeking the elusive orders that she might bestow on them. Even without her buying power, Becky would not have been short of visitors. The mostly male salesmen would have flowed towards this lone, attractive female without needing too much encouragement.

Becky was, after all, a very well proportioned woman. Five foot six, size eight waist, 34-D breasts, long blond hair, green eyes and pretty features combined with long, slim, legs, giving the overall appearance of grace and beauty. At thirty-two, Becky mused, she did not look too bad. Especially in her well cut, pale business suit, which was complemented by four-inch heels. She definitely had the assets to turn heads. Her looks also helped to throw the poor male reps. off balance, since they did not expect a woman with her looks to be able to cut them to the bone in price negotiations.

Becky had fulfilled all of the orders that her company required and she was only here now to ensure that she did not miss anything of interest. Although, as it turned out, a thing of interest, in the form of M Anthon Darkes, did not miss her. He sauntered over to her and introduced himself as a perfume producer and winegrower. A strange mix, but from the first impressions that Becky was forming, not beyond the man before her.

He was tall and well built, sporting a dark, goatee beard and long hair drawn back in to a ponytail. Usually, men with ponytails tend to look like hippies, or ageing Goths that are trying too hard. M Darkes had managed to pull the look off, so that he appeared to be neither. Like most large men, he looked good in a charcoal business suit and he carried himself with the confidence associated with the successful.

M Darkes had a distinct sense of humour. He was funny, intelligent, obviously wealthy and French, a distinct plus as far as Becky’s tastes were concerned. They talked for a while about the perfume business and the latest news. It transpired that Anton did not, in fact, produce perfume, but the chemicals used in perfume manufacture. More specifically, his company was one of the few producers of the obscenely expensive pheromone concentrate; a recent development that allowed the hormone to remain stable when mixed with perfumes. The conversation moved on to who was producing what. What was likely to be the big seller leading up to Christmas, before moving on to more general topics and M Darkes great love, wine.

M Darkes, Becky discovered, was a very talented man. Anton had grown up on a French vineyard. Despite his rural upbringing however, he had still managed to study in Paris and now held degrees in chemistry, biology and engineering. He was also fluent in five languages. Unlike most academics that Becky had met, Anton did not appear to suffer from the emotional immaturity brought about from a life that devoted to books and study. When Becky glimpsed the clock at the back of the hall, she was amazed to discover that they had been talking for over two hours and that the conference was winding up.

Usually, Becky would have been relieved to discover that the day was nearly over and she could retire to her room in preparation for a night on the town. On this occasion however, she felt a sense of loss, since it surely meant that she would be deprived of the company of her gorgeous companion.

As if anticipating her thoughts, Anton invited her to dine in the restaurant and so, an hour later, Becky had transformed herself from her business persona with the aid of a long, slinky, halter neck, red silk dress that emphasised her best assets with a particular deep cut. Her long blond hair now hung about her shoulders in loose folds, while she sported a bright red crystalline lip stick, from Channel, that sparkled like diamonds in the lights from the hotel lobby. Her outfit was finished by a pair of four inch, strapped shoes, in gloss patent red. She felt she looked stunning.

Anton arrived at the lobby shortly after Becky. He instantly complemented her on her appearance before leading her in to the restaurant. After some small talk, the conversation slipped in to the easy manner that they had discovered earlier and soon Anton was gesticulating wildly, in a typical Gaelic fashion, about life, love and wine.

Although not usually so forward, it was Becky who proposed that they continue the conversation, over coffee, in her hotel room, which to Becky’s delight, Anton accepted. They continued their conversation as they walked to her room, but through some turn of events, which happened so quickly that her head spun, Becky found herself kissing Anton as she held him in a tight embrace, with her back to the hotel room door. She struggled with the keys, so that when she eventually opened the door, the couple fell through the opening to land on the carpet in a heap.

Although Anton was on top of her, pinning her to the carpet, as his hands and mouth explored her, Becky still had enough composure to use her foot to close the door. Soon she and Anton were naked. However, Becky soon discovered that M Darkes was also dark by nature, as she found herself kneeling before him, with her wrists and ankles crossed and tied with her stockings in an effectively hog tied and sucking his enormous cock, while he fondled her breasts.

Although Becky had always enjoyed reading about damsels being tied up, or seeing the heroine tightly bound and awaiting rescue on television, it still came as a shock to discover just how turned on she was by her present position. She felt helpless, totally in this mans power, as she was forced to do things she would not normally have done, especially on a first date. Perhaps, she mused, the rope offered her the excuse to try new things, but by the end of the evening, it was a very tired and satisfied woman that collapsed on her bed in the early hours of the morning.

She had had such a good time in fact, that she was not at all surprised with herself when, later that morning, over breakfast, she accepted his offer to visit his châteaux in France the following week. She had; after all, quite a bit of holiday time left and a holiday romance would help to recuperate her after such a trying year.

Monday morning passed in a blur as she hastily arranging for two weeks off. Although the request was submitted at very short notice, her company was very understanding. This understanding was emphasised by the occasional knowing looks that she received from the HR personnel. Never the less, she found herself, a week later, grappling with her luggage as she made her way to the taxi rank outside Charles De Gaul airport. A horn sounded from across the road and Becky looked around to see Anton waving from the driver’s window of a very sleek, black, BMW. Having made the customary greetings and loaded Becky’s bags in to the boot, the couple set off for Anthon’s châteaux.

The drive took over two hours, heading southeast through winding country roads and picturesque villages. Becky was pleased to discover that Anton was still able to hold a passionate conversation while driving, although she was more than a little disturbed by his habit of gesticulating wildly while driving, or looking at her, rather than the road, while he talked. This would have been bad enough on its own. But Anton, Becky discovered, was also a closet racing driver and he maintained the BMW at over one hundred and twenty-mph for most of the journey, only slowing down to a sedate eighty through villages. It was a decidedly shaken Becky that eventually staggered out of the car when they eventually reached the Darkes residence.

Apart from this frightening opening to her holiday, Anton turned out to be the perfect host. They spent their time playing tennis on Anthon’s court, behind the house, or lounging about in his heated in door swimming pool. He could also cook the most amazing dishes and Becky soon found herself settling in to a more relaxed life style.

The chateaux was a large multi roomed sprawl that, while still referring to its original purpose as a farm house, had received numerous refits and extensions since it was originally built in the sixteenth century. It sat amid acres of grapevines and Anton took a great deal of pride in his achievements as he showed Becky around his vineyards and wine presses. Having tasted M Darkes wines; Becky had no trouble in appreciating all of the work that went in to producing such wonderful drinks.

Apart from the occasional telephone call, or fax, their time together was not interrupted by work. Although Becky was a little confused since, on their walks together, Becky had seen most of the estate, but there appeared to be no sign of Anthon’s chemical business. This, she assumed must be conducted elsewhere, perhaps in town. This made more sense to Becky’s business mind, since the large town’s roads were of a higher quality than the small private road leading to the châteaux. It also made more sense to have the complex situated within easy commuting distance for the employees.

Becky loved her time at the chateaux, especially the evenings. Anton would create the most wonderful food and then they would make love, with Becky tied in some obscure fashion. She had been strapped to his bed, tied to roof beams, or bent over chairs. She had been spanked, had all of her orifices filled, by Anton, dildos, or even vegetables. She had not realised that she could be so wanton, or perverted. She luxuriated in the feel of tight bondage and was amazed at how much she loved to be beaten. To Becky’s disappointment, she found that her time with Anton was nearly over and that she would soon have to head back to life of board rooms and hours spent in the company car, on one errand, or another.

The final evening was soon upon them and Anton seemed as moody as she was, but took her parting in good humour. Excitement and regret warred for dominance within Becky as Anton stripped her in his bedroom. Becky’s excitement rose and all thoughts of tomorrow disappeared as Anton buckled a thick rubber, corset around her, forcing her boobs to stand out lewdly as they poked through the holes in the garment. The corset was made of thick rubber straps that dug in to her forcefully, pinching her waist and forcing her in to a stiff, upright posture. Two thick rubber straps ran from underneath her boobs and over her shoulders. They were strange in that two metal eyes were affixed to the shoulders. Numerous rubber cuffs ran down the back of the corset in a V formation. Becky’s arms were strapped in to these, forcing her shoulder back and her bust to stick out prominently. Another strap was left dangling from the back of the corset, to swing idly between her legs. Obviously Anton had plans for her pussy and would use this strap later. Finally, Anton produced a blindfold

“I have a surprise for you,” Anton crooned once Becky was blindfolded.

“Oh. Can’t it wait? I want you now,” Becky pleaded.

“I must ask you to indulge my whim on this occasion. I must show this to you now.”

Becky was disappointed, but submitted as Anton lead her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He would not, Becky reasoned, have gone to all the bother of tying her up if he did not have something interesting in mind. Although, by now, Becky had a pretty good idea of the chateaux’s layout she was soon disoriented as Anton lead her deeper in to the house. Then they were heading down another flight of stairs. The texture changed under her bare feet from wooden floorboards, to cold stone. This was accompanied by the strong smell of damp stonework that one normally finds in a church.

“The old wine cellar? Perhaps Anton had a dungeon hidden down here,” Becky mused hopefully.

At last they reached the bottom of the stairs and Becky could clearly hear the distinct tones of a keypad. Anton pulled her backwards and she felt a waft of air on her naked skin, as a large door swung open. After guiding her in to the room and up a short series of wooden steps, Anton closed the door and removed her blindfold.

“Welcome to my other vineyard and you’re new home,” Anton pronounced as Becky adjusted to the brightness of the room.

As Becky’s vision cleared, she could at last take in the scene before her. They were indeed in the old wine cellar, although it had undergone drastic alterations since it was originally built. The old brickwork could still be seen in places, but the walls were now covered in smooth plasterboard. The ceiling had been lowered and acoustic panels covered the original beams. Even the floor she was standing on had been raised, like a stage. But the most dramatic thing about the room was that instead of wine racks, the room was now filled with large, brightly coloured plastic sacks, which were suspended from the ceiling by two metal wires. Rubber tubes and pipes protruded from the bags in various places, disappearing in to sockets in the wall, floor and ceiling, their purpose and destinations hidden by the extensive alterations wrought on the room.

Anton took her closer to one of the sacks. They were not plastic; she realised, but rubber. A variety of colours: red, black, blue, purple, green, white and yellow, could be seen, stretching away in neat rows, like the vineyards she had seen on Anthon’s estate. Becky stopped dead in her tracks, and had to be dragged closer as she finally realised what her brain had been keeping from her. The bright blue sack that she was being led towards, although appearing to be filled with air had an opening near the top. Although the lower half of the face was covered by a strange rubber gag, that had a pipe protruding from it, which disappeared in to the ceiling, the upper half of the oval opening definitely contained a pair of frightened human eyes.

“What the hell is going on Anton?”

Anton appeared not to hear her, but once they were standing before the sack, Anton introduced her to its occupant.

“This is Monique. She has been with the company for what, just over two weeks,” he asked the mute girl?

Becky stared, speechless at the sight before her. Monique stared back with pleading eyes, while the tube attached to her mouth convulsed.

“Ah. Monique is not very talkative. None of my flowers are, since they scream so loudly when they come here that their vocal chords are soon ruined. Besides, you have arrived during lunch and it would be rude of Monique to speak with her mouth full”.

Becky took her gaze from those frightened and pleading eyes as she watched the tube pump food in to the girls’ mouth. Looking around she saw that all of the tubes were wobbling as they delivered food to the chambers occupants.

Suddenly, the sound of pumps stopped and the tubes became still. Becky looked back at Monique as her eyes transformed from fear and pleading, to terror and then intense pain, or pleasure, Becky could not tell which. Then, like the rustling of leaves caught by a gust of wind, all of the sacks began to convulse.

“What’s happening? What are you doing to them?” Becky screamed as she surveyed the tortured writhing before her.

“Oh, lunch is over. They have gone back to work.”

“What work?” Becky whispered, as she watched, transfixed by the display before her.

“This is where I produce my pheromones. All of my flowers are being stimulated in order to secrete pussy juice, which is then collected via that pipe that you can see and stored in vats. It is then distilled and used to create the highly concentrated chemical, which can then be suspended in perfume. The sweat is also laced with the hormone, which is why all of my flowers wear these rubber sacks. Their essence runs down the inside of the sack, exiting from this pipe here,” Anton explained as he pointed to a rubber pipe extending out of the bottom of the sack.

Becky was shocked. This was madness. Pure and utter madness. She was totally lost for words as Anton guided her to other sacks, introducing their occupants, who stared back mutely. After four such introductions, he introduced her to the most frightening occupant of all.

“And this is Nicole, my wife,” Anton proclaimed. “She is the founder member of my vineyard. She taught me that, no matter what promises a woman makes regarding love and fidelity, as a species, women are incapable of keeping them. Her lover is buried among my grapes. His body helping to produce the fine wines that you have tried since you came here. But that is another story. At first, after I had killed her lover, I kept her down here in chains. But I found a way to make her uncontrollable lust work for me and now she more than earns her keep, as do all of the women who have proclaimed love for me. Since all women are incapable of remaining faithful, they have to join my vineyard. It is the only way.”

Becky looked in to the eyes of Anthon’s wife and was terrified. All semblance of humanity was gone from the face, what she could see of it. The skin was deathly white from lack of sun light. The face, she could see, even under the rubber of the gag, was contorted in to a permanent scream. Wide-eyed horror and excruciating ecstasy etched in to the facial muscles that surrounded the unfortunate woman’s eyes. Her eyelids were purple, as were the deep bags underneath them, indicating the prolonged abuse that the woman had suffered. The eyes themselves reflected only madness. A testament to the last emotions of this poor woman before her mind collapsed in on itself under the pressure of years of continuous orgasm.

Then Anton guided Becky to an ominously empty area. Hooked chains and pipes dangled from the ceiling, while other was coiled, like venomous snakes ready to strike, on the floor.

“Unfortunately, the last occupant of this station died. Her heart gave out. But I am sure that you will not let that bother you. You seemed to have enjoyed our little bondage sessions, so you should fit right in as her replacement,” Anton enthused.

“No way. No fucking way,” Becky screamed as she tried to prize herself from this mad mans grip.

But Anton was very strong and held her easily as he guided her over to a stainless steel chair, which he secured her to with tight rubber straps.

Despite her struggles, Becky knew that, on some level, that she could not fathom, that she did want this. The past two weeks had brought out a submissive side of Becky that she had not been aware of, so that, despite the horror of the fate that Anton had in store for her, she still felt a quiver of anticipation at the prospect of being encased in rubber and used in this degrading manner.

“Unfortunately the sacks can become very uncomfortable and it is necessary, for hygiene’s sake, to remove your hair,” Anton pronounced as he picked up a pair of electric clippers.

Becky struggled frantically in her bonds, shaking her head from side to side, as she screamed and sobbed. But soon her long golden hair was in a pile around the chair. Not content with this, he also shaved her pussy hair, so that only light stubble remained. He then picked up a bottle of liquid, which he applied to her scalp and pussy while Becky sobbed.

Becky remained in the chair, sobbing for fifteen minutes, while the vile chemical burned her scalp and pussy. Finally, Anton walked over to a hosepipe, connected to a tap in the wall, which he turned on. He then hosed Becky down. The cold water was causing another burst of screams and curses from the naked girl. Finally it was over and Becky sat shivering and sobbing in the chair. All of her hair, including the stubble, collected in a damp pile around her. She was now totally bald.

Next, Anton approached her with a strange tube. Grabbing her jaw and forcing her mouth open, he pushed the tube down her throat.

“It’s easier and less painful if you swallow,” Anton informed her as she gagged against the intrusion.

Although appearing to be a single tube, a plastic membrane bisected the inside. Holes perforated the outside of the tube on one side, so that the tube performed two functions. As well as delivering food, the pipe would also ensure that Becky was able to breathe.

Becky was forced to comply as Anton forced the tube down her throat. Once this was in place, Anton slid a rubber bulb down the tube until it rested in her mouth and enclosed the tube. A thinner rubber tube attached another bulb to this. This Anton pumped, expanding the rubber ball in her mouth until her jaw was painfully forced to its maximum and her cheeks bulged. Once satisfied, Anton unclipped the other bulb and tube. He then brought a rubber gag from his worktable and buckled it around her lower face and jaw. After feeding the rubber tube through a small hole, he then pulled it tightly so that the gag was forced deeper in to her straining mouth, before fastening a buckle at the back of the gag.

“Although your vocal chords will soon be destroyed, the gag will prevent you from distressing my other guests. It will also ensure that you do not remove your feeding tube, or bite through your own tongue,” Anton informed her helpfully.

Releasing her from the chair, Anton picked her up and carried the sobbing woman over to a steal table. Fixing her legs to straps on the table, she was forced to keep her legs firmly apart while Anton continued with her preparations.

Anton applied something like grease, or jelly to her anus. Once he was satisfied that Becky was suitably lubricated, he took a large dildo like object, with a clear plastic tube at one end, from the table and shoved it forcefully up her rear passage. Although Anton had coated her anus in enough grease to baste a turkey, Becky still produced a loud grunt through her gag at the intrusion of the perverse object. Next he took a needle, again with a vinyl tube at one end, and pierced her body, so that a long stream of urine filled the tube, only stopping when it reached a tap like attachment at one end. This was secured with surgical tape.

Becky’s eyes widened in horror at the thing that Anton now held in his hands. Large chrome coloured dildo, with holes running its length and another clear plastic tube attached to the base

“This is the thing that makes it all possible,” Anton proudly proclaimed as he held the dildo close to her face for inspection. “The top is quite clever. It acts like a funnel. As you can see, it has an inflatable rubber seal at the top. This is so the top of your pussy can be sealed off. That way, when you have your period, all of the blood will run in to the funnel section, to be carried away by a pipe inside the shaft. Another pipe can then deliver water to clean you out, so production need never stop. A censor at the top of the funnel controls all this. In that way, the pheromone rich juices, that I require, are not contaminated and can be collected via the holes in the shaft,” Anton explained as he pointed at various aspects of his monstrous contraption. “A rubber cup, at the bottom will seal your cunt and funnel any remaining juices in to the pipe at the bottom,” Anton proclaimed proudly. “But the real genius is how it will stimulate your clitoris. Everything has a frequency of sound that will cause it to vibrate. It is, I understand, a common problem in bridge manufacture. However, with the right sound, anything can be made to vibrate, including the human body.” Anton pointed to a protrusion on the base of the vibrator. “This cap here is designed to oscillate at the exact frequency required to vibrate human flesh. It will be fixed to your clit which, combined with the drugs that I will give you and other stimulus, will cause you to become very excited and promote the production of your juices. Don’t worry; it is sheathed in rubber, so the frequency will not be able to damage any of your internal organs, although I have allowed some vibration to be transferred to the shaft. It is also supplied by mains power, so you will never be bored by failing batteries,” Anton enthused as he pointed to a length of wire protruding from the base of the dildo and fastened to the length of plastic tube by gaff tape.

Becky stared transfixed as she absorbed the implications of Anthon’s tirade. Once Anton had finished and Becky was again able to breathe, since she had held her breath for the entire explanation, she was surprised to find that she was very wet. How could she be enjoying this, her logical self demanded? But never the less, Becky was overcome with shame as Anton, with a smug grin, slid the dildo in to her body without the need of additional lubrication.

Anton pulled a rubber strap that had been handing down from the corset’s back and pulled it tightly between her legs. Two metal rings ensured that that the plastic tubes were not obstructed, before securing the strap with a buckle on the front of the corset. Now the strange dildos were firmly in place, since although the metal rings were large enough to allow the pipes to be fed through them, they were not large enough for either the dildos to escape.

Becky’s despair sank to new depths as she realised how hopeless her predicament was. She had imagined that Anton would release her, while the balloon people unzipped themselves from their cocoons, announcing that she had been the butt of an enormous joke. But this was for real. She had somehow found herself transformed in to some form of sex toy and she had allowed her captor to imprison her willingly.

Next he brought over two strange rubber cups, again with tubes on them. Becky stared mutely as she tried to define their purpose.

“One of the side effects of the drug that I will give you is that, although you will produce plenty of pussy juice, your body will also produce milk. These cups will act as breast pumps, ensuring that you do not become too uncomfortable. Since the Aids epidemic, the sources of breast milk have, quite literally dried up. Fortunately there is still a market to be found on certain colourful sections of the Internet. So while your pussy juice will be used to further the romantic designs of women all over the world, you will also be providing a sexual service to a very misunderstood minority,” Anton explained as he approached her breasts.

Each rubber sheath was then pulled apart and placed on Becky’s breasts, so that they were completely covered and giving them a form and definition that they had not seen since she was a teenager. After adjusting the vinyl tubes, and clear plastic cups, which were within the rubber breast covers, ensuring that they were directly over the nipples, Anton aligned a series of holes in around the bottom of the rubber, so that they matched studs placed around the breast straps of the corset. He then brought a frat plastic ring, with poppers spaced around it to correspond with the corset studs and pressed them firmly in to place so that her breasts were now securely trapped within their rubber prison.

“Nearly done,” Anton quipped, as he inserted IV needles in the each arm and secured them with tape.

All of the fight had drained out of Becky. She put up no resistance at all when Anton un-strapped her legs from the table, only to re-bind them with thick rubber straps so that her legs were forced firmly together. The only indication that Becky was not a willing participant was the muffled sound of sobbing coming from the prone woman.

Once satisfied that his new asset was suitably prepared, Anton lifted Becky from the table and transferred her to another. Becky felt like the heroine in some B movie horror flick, being carried to a fate worse than death by the monster. However, Becky realised that there would be no dashing hero coming to rescue her. She had not told anybody where she was going. Her colleges had, due to the short notice, suspected that a man was involved, but she had not disclosed whom. Becky herself had not known exactly where Anthon’s chateau was located, since he had arranged to meet her at the airport. Now she thought about it, she was not totally certain that Darkes was Anthon’s real name, since the wine that he had served since her arrival bore the name De Ville. She had assumed that it was a brand name. But she had made a great many assumptions since she had met M Darkes, or whatever his name really was.

The second table had a large, red rubber sack laid out on its surface. Anton placed his trembling victim on the table, guiding her feet in to the sack, which Becky discovered, was double lined.

“I hope you like it. I thought that red looked very good on you,” Anton stated as he imprisoned her within the sack.

Once he was satisfied that Becky was securely placed in the inner sack and that all of the cables and pipes had been fed through their appropriate holes, Anton zipped the inner sack up like a sleeping bag. The rubber had been deformed in some manner, so that her breasts fitted snugly in to pre-moulded sacks. Apart from this one consideration, the inner sack compressed her body tightly, impeding her movement, so that all that she could do was wriggle.

Anton took a tube of something from a drawer underneath the table and smeared it along the fold of rubber that covered the zipper. One a thick line of gunk, which Becky guessed must be glue, was applied, Anton pressed firmly along the fold. After a few minutes, he applied more gunk to the join, once that had dried, Becky was securely sealed within her prison.

The two sacks, although separate, were joined by rubber tubes at the places where the pipes were fed through, so that vinyl pipes stuck out of the sack like weird alien appendages.

Satisfied that the seal was dry, Anton fastened the zipper on the outer sack and applied more glue to the fold of rubber. Once this had dried he picked Becky up and carried her to the hooks she had seen earlier and stood her up on the floor beneath them. He then attached the hooks to the steel eyes that were on the shoulder straps of her corset. He then walked back to the second table, returning a few minutes later with a syringe.

“The drug which you will receive via the IV is a little diluted, as it is mixed with water and vitamins. This will just give you a little boost to get your juices flowing,” Anton explained as he stuck the needle in to the IV line that dangled from the rubber chrysalis and emptied its contents in to her arm.

Removing the needle, Anton connected all of the pipes, IV lines and wires to their counterparts in the ceiling, floor and walls. He then walked over to a box on the wall and pressed a green button. Becky rose in to the air, so that she was soon, like the other occupants of this chamber, floating three-foot above the ground.

Finally, Anton returned and connected an air line to a valve on the bottom of the sack. He adjusted the red needle on the air pressure gauge until he had selected the correct air pressure. Almost immediately, Becky heard the sound of a pump and air was forced in to the two halves, as though she were a car tyre. The pressure on Becky’s body increased until she felt she could not stand any more. Finally the sound of the pump stopped and Anton walked over to the wall box. After pressing several buttons he returned to stand in front of Becky.

“It will take a few moments for the system to cycle through and start. Don’t look so worried. I am not a total ogre. The program is synchronised with the other occupants, so you will have a fifteen-minute break in about two and half-hours. This will allow you to top up your fluid levels. Oh well, it’s been fun,” Anton proclaimed before walking towards the door, quietly whistling to himself. The door clanged shut, sending reverberations throughout the chamber. As if on cue, the strange dildo in her ass came to life, pumping cold water in to her colon and causing her to spasm in pain and shock as the water circulated within her. After twenty minutes the water stopped and she was able to relax a little.

Becky stared at the women she had met earlier. Although there were dozens of women here, these five were all that she could see and would stay with her until she, or they died. She did not have long to ponder this morbid train of thought however, her pussy was already watering from the drug that she had been given, but then the vibrator started, and her boobs were mercilessly sucked by the pipes attached to her nipples, not yet drawing milk, but still stimulating. She could already feel the orgasm building, but rather than the slow build up that she was used to, this orgasm struck like an avalanche, overwhelming her senses and forcing her to scream in to her gag as her mind and world exploded.

Before she could recover from this mammoth assault, another orgasm struck. Becky screamed again and again until she one continuous scream tried to force its way past the gag and she lost all sense of self, her mind focused on the one continuous orgasm that would either continue until her heart gave way under the onslaught, or her mind collapsed in to blissful madness.

End

16.12.03