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THE FUNHOUSE
The auction completed, the couple of Oriental girls go as a pair. Bought by a group of Orientals even as the truck was still in route to the compound, they’re quickly delivered and immediately subjected to body modifications, just hours after entering the funhouse.
Chapter Two
The Oriental girl’s fates sealed, their bound, naked bodies are hoisted off the trailer, each still arched back, swaying from a prong of the fork lift as it maneuvers off the ramp into the southern mansion’s basement garage entrance. Wheeled into the bunker type room behind the garages, the obviously Oriental décor includes plenty of bamboo and hemp rope. Colorful rugs cover the walls, the floor concrete with drains. As the girls are mounted on separate bamboo braces, large tripods supporting strands of thick hemp rope from their centers, they slowly twist, arched backwards, nearly half the room apart.
The door to the garage closing behind the exiting fork lift, several black clothed men and a couple women also dressed in black, all Oriental, enter from a stairway above the back of the room. Stepping around, surrounding the closest tripod, gruffly unbinding the disoriented naked girl, standing her upright with only the ball gag still in her mouth, one of the women operates the mounted video equipment as the other woman begins handing out bamboo and ropes to several of the men.
Each with a purpose, the men begin binding the bamboo shunts to the girl from head to foot. Flexible shunts are mounted above and below her breasts, another behind her back, just below her armpits as they force her shoulders back, her arms crossed over the bamboo, her hands down toward her waist, wrists bound toward her sides. Working efficiently, silently, the bamboo, the ropes quickly take shape forcing her body into a rigid stance.
Thin shunts placed between her legs spread her labia, the ropes binding those shunts burrowing around her thighs. The bamboo flattening into the bases of her bulging breasts are bound to the bamboo behind her back with twisting rope as the ball gag’s removed, another bamboo shunt forced between her lips, tied between her shinning black hair and neck. Shorter bamboo’s used vertically behind each calf, thigh, looped, tied with several strands of hemp forcing her to tiptoe stiff legged as more hemp rope’s crisscrossed behind her shoulders, drawing her arms closer, her chest to arch outward, her ballooning breasts darkening, separating toward her sides.
Satisfied with their bindings, she’s stood in the center of the room on a three legged stool. A rope swaying down from a block and tackle’s looped around her braid of long black hair, hoisted upwards, stretching until she can barely touch the stool with the balls of her bare feet. Starring wide eyed, her dark brown eyes glaring through her tears, she can only grunt as she watches a black kettle being wheeled in front of her. On the verge of hyperventilating, her mind barely comprehends her surreal predicament. Feeling the heat of the glowing red coals, her eyes darting toward the several black iron handles spread across the curved lip of the kettle, she realizes the smoldering red glow is heating branding irons. Her swelling breasts bulge between the bamboo, her dark nipples hard, thick while standing straight out.
Watching her trembling body while the mounted camera’s set in a more advantageous position, the largest of the black clothed men reaches for an iron, stirs the glowing coals with its simmering tip, the ambers sparking above the kettle amongst the acrid smoke. Slipping the tip of the iron from the flame, lifting it toward her horrified face, he lets the flattened tip lower, barely brush across the tip of her trembling nipple, slip downward, just close enough for the glowing iron’s heat to singe the soft silky hair just below her flexing navel.
Raising the tip of the iron back up, letting it glide just off the side of her trim waistline, up past her ribcage, he stops the flattened head just outside the curve of her bulging right breast. Flicking his wrist, letting the scorching metal press against the outer globe of her quivering globe, he barely smiles, stares into her rolling eyes as she screams through the mouth gag.
“Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!... Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhh!!!” Bucking, twisting, the red hot poker adhering to her burning flesh, the bamboo creaks in the binding ropes as her feet slip from the rocking stool, her naked, bound body twisting in mid air by her stretched hair. One of the men grab at her flailing feet, slip them back on the straightened stool, steps back as the smell of burning flesh spreads through the searing smoke of her branded breast.
Tugging the iron away, her tit flesh stretching before snapping back off the glowing metal, the man with the iron lays it back in the kettle, tip first. Picking up another iron, glancing toward the side of her smoldering breast, he nods toward a couple of the other men as he grins at the image of a dragon burnt across the side of her glistening globe. Stepping toward her other side, watching the man kneeling behind her, gripping her ankles, he slowly waves that iron in front of her swollen eyes, her tears mixing with her saliva drooling off her chin, between her compressed breasts as she babbles incoherently.
Slipping the glowing iron down toward the outer curve of her left breast, slowly pressing inward, he feels the resistance of her searing flesh against the poker.
“Aaaaagggggghhhhhhhh!!!” Another scream while her body twitches, spasms as her ankles are held firm, her naked body curling, swaying, her hair stretching in the binding rope above her head.
Flicking the iron backwards, again her flesh sticks to the glowing metal. Giving another firmer yank, the smoldering poker sizzles as her tit flesh tears away, again the smell of roasting human flesh, again the smoldering remnants of the smoke rising from her naked body as she slumps.
Glancing at the new branding, an ancient Chinese symbol swelling across the side of her breast, he grins as he nods toward the camera, steps toward the other horrified girl swaying beneath the tripod naked, her eyes transfixed on the branded girl. Lifting the tip of the putrid smelling iron toward her face, the tip just inches from her cheek, she jerks her head aside, whimpering as the tri pod shakes, her arched body twisting in its bindings. Laughing, shaking his head back and forth, he again turns toward the smoldering kettle. Replacing that iron with a third, he glances toward the semiconscious face of his branded abductee, steps toward her swaying body, slips the tip of the iron just in front of her thrust out pubic mound, barely above the slight ‘V’ of hair.
Her eyes barely twitching, her naked body still mostly hoisted upright by the rope tugging upward from her hair, drool flows across her naked breasts as he presses the iron forward. Feeling her naked body flinching, sagging as the iron pushes against her bare flesh; her grunt’s barely audible as she slumps forward in her bamboo casing, sways from the stool. The acrid smell, the steaming remnants of her burnt flesh rising between them, he steps back, jerking the iron away, dropping it into the heated kettle.
Another burnt branding, another Chinese symbol scorches her naked flesh, this just above the spreading slit of her vagina, urine tricking from its spread labia folds. Looking toward one of the other men, nodding, he watches as the rope slackens from her hair, a couple of the other men grabbing her, dragging her toward the tripod. Fastening the swaying ropes to either side of the bamboo binding her breasts, tightening the ends, they leave her arched backwards, head tilted as her body weight’s supported by her clamped breasts as she gently sways, barely conscious.
Turning toward the other girl, he smiles as a couple of the men slide a gurney beneath her naked body, lower the rope as she’s positioned flat on her back, her arms, legs spread over the gurney’s sides. Unintelligible mumblings from her gagged mouth, her naked body trembles on the cold metal, her slightly larger firm breasts standing upright, her hard, pointed nipples quivering. Rolled to the center of the room under the swaying rope, her body trembles, she squirms on the flat metal as the man steps toward her.
Again the camera positioned by one of the women, the girl’s wild eyes dart back and forth, take in the room, the other branded girl across the room limply hanging from her bound, stretching breasts, the hot kettle being rolled away by the other woman. Terrified, almost believing she’s having an extended nightmare, the girl’s stomach heaves as her naked body virtually spasms on the cold surface. Watching as another tray’s wheeled beside her, she sees multiple needles, various shades of ink in clear jars. Three, four men surround her, retrieving needles from the tray. She feels her shackled wrists, ankles drawn tightly together beneath the gurney, her naked body arching upwards as her heart pounds in her chest.
Grunting, shaking her head, still unable to believe what’s happening to her, her friend, she feels the pricks, the jabs of the needles across her bare, perfectly smooth, unmarred flesh. The pain resonates across her arched torso as the needles probe her breasts, her pubic mound, around her navel. Working in unison, the multiple colors mix with tinges of her blood as the process is videoed. The other woman steps around the men, the table as she swipes a pair of alcohol soaked terry cloth towels across the girl’s trembling torso, wiping the oozing blood, the mixed colors from her naked flesh with the once white cloth.
Grunting, saliva drooling off her chin, her head jerking from side to side, she feels the needles glide across her breasts, across her areolas, even into the nubs of her nipples. Likewise, the needle probing her pubic mound trails downward across her bucking thighs, over her vulva, against the twin folds of her labia, circle and pierce her searing clit. Rasping for breath, her body on fire, the tattooing continues as her chest, her pubic mound and even lower fill with brilliant colors, with oriental designs. Even above the pain, realizing her body, her flawless body is being mutilated, the thought’s numbing, disgusting.
Gnawing on the ball gag, her swollen eyes glaring at the overloaded tray as the men repeatedly collect more colors, choose other needles, the overall tattooing feels like thousands of bee stings, of electrical shocks as her nipples and clit are traced over time and again. The soaked towels swabbed back and forth, the splashes of alcohol burns her punctured skin, drips between her thighs, into her spread slit even as the inner lips of her vagina feel the pointed needles.
Abs reflexively rippling, her flattened stomach heaving, the room blurs, the men out of focus as her head rolls back, her eyes flutter shut. Twisting a towel, soaking it in the alcohol, the woman twists it even tighter, pokes it upward between the girl’s spread thighs. “Agghhhh!” A muffled scream as the girl bucks, the drenched towel borrowed into her vagina, the alcohol burning at her punctured flesh, soaking her already sensitive vagina walls. Twitching, bouncing on the table, she gags for breath, choking on her saliva, the room going dark as the needles continue to probe her naked flesh. Continuing their designs even as she looses consciousness, her naked torso’s well on the way to showcasing demons and dragons, her breasts colorful mounds of painful art, her vagina…
End Part Two
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