Chpt 10.
Martine stirred restlessly. The dream was a vivid one. She was lying naked at
the side of the private swimming pool, and he was looking down at her, a cock
the size of a large cucumber swaying from his groin, dripping precum onto her
smooth thighs. The sun was warm on her skin, the cock looked nice, but she
wondered if she could take something that size without hurting. She crossed her
legs, squeezing one thigh hard against the other, the sensation in the pelvic
region spreading up through her stomach. He bent over her, that big organ
swooping down to brush lightly over her belly. He reached down and touched her
face...and she awoke, to see not a man's but a woman's face bending over her, a
hand stroking her cheek.
Startled, she tried to sit up, but found that one hand and foot were tied to the
corners of the bed. She tried to speak, but was prevented from doing so by the
tape across her mouth. She was confused, and scared. Memory came flooding back;
Mike beating her ass, massaging her breasts, shaving her, force-feeding her -
she trembled. But what was going on - the person bending over her wasn't Mike'.
At least, she thought it wasn't, but the face was covered by a mask. As her eyes
focused better, she saw the long hair and, lower down, the breasts trying to
escape from their thin, black vinyl covering. Who on earth was this? She
trembled. She had thought that only Mike was going to punish her, but now it
looked as though he had brought in a female friend. This was terrible! She felt
so ashamed, lying there naked and helpless. And that was not all - the big jug
of water Mike had force-fed her had had time to work its way through her system
and going to the toilet was no a matter of some urgency. Trouble was, as she was
gagged it was impossible to say so!
She looked pleadingly at the masked woman and rubbed her thighs together,
squirming. Angelique, having seen how much iced water Mike had poured into her
before putting her on the bed for the night, caught on almost at once.
"Toilet?", she asked. The girl nodded frantically.
This put Angelique in a quandary. If she was to let Martine go to the toilet,
she would have to leave her the use of one hand, to wipe herself. But that was
dangerous. She knew very well that she had been deluding herself about how
grateful the girl would be for having rescued her, and about becoming her lover.
The way Martine had rejected her advances in the past told her that the girl was
really not into lesbianism. Whilst Angelique would have much preferred Martine
to make love with her willing, the girl had become such an obsession with her
that she was quite prepared, if necessary, to take her by force, to rape her, if
the term was appropriate, or even better, torture her into submission. Letting
her have the use of one hand would mean that she would be able to free herself
quite easily, and she was certainly younger, and probably stronger, than
Angelique. No, that was too muck of a risk.
She went back into the torture chamber and started looking through all the
instruments Mike had collected and laid out on the long table against the wall.
And there, to her delight, she found exactly what she was looking for, a
catheter and length of tubing. Picking them up, she went back to where Martine
was lying on the bed. Quickly, she put an arm under the girl's waist and stuffed
a doubled-up pillow under her ass. The she grabbed her free hand and attached it
to the other corner at the top of the bed. The free ankle got the same
treatment. She pulled all the cords tight, so that Martine was stretched out
tautly, her hips thrusting upwards, legs well apart.
"Now listen, Martine, I can't take the risk just now of letting you go to the
toilet, but I don't want you to burst. I am going to use this to relieve you,"
and she showed the girl the catheter. Martine stared at it uncomprehendingly,
more interested for the moment in trying to place the voice, which she was quite
sure she had heard before..
"It's a catheter, I am going to slide it up into you. It will let all the urine
run out down this tube and into the bucket under the bed."
Martine shook her head wildly, the idea of what Angelique was proposing to do to
her was repulsive. She pulled at the cords holding her wrists to the head of the
bed, to no avail. She saw Angelique unscrew a tube of Vaseline and smear the
catheter with it.
"This might be a bit uncomfortable," Angelique told her, "but you'll feel much
more comfortable afterwards. Now keep quite still, I've never done this before."
Martine tried to shout at her, "No! No! You must be mad! Leave me alone! Untie
me, please!" All that came out were tiny, incomprehensible sounds that meant
nothing at all.
Angelique bent over her and, with her left hand, spread the girl's cunt-lips
wide apart, thus rendering visible the entrance to her vagina. She was about to
slide the catheter inside when a thought occurred to her. It was obvious that
the vagina was dry and tight, it would be much easier if it were loosened up a
bit. Still holding the lips apart, she licked the index finger of her right hand
copiously and then rubbed it on the quiescent clitoris. When the girl felt this
liberty, she gave an involuntary jerk, thrusting up against the hand that held
her so lewdly. Angelique smothered a little laugh and started massaging that
little pink clit, which almost immediately start turning a deeper hue and
swelling up. She moved from the clit to the entrance to the vagina and very soon
felt that familiar wetness that characterises a sexually-aroused woman.
Martine was horrified. First Mike, now this unknown woman, playing with her,
arousing her, making her wet. It was so humiliating, she didn't want to respond
to the treatment but her body wouldn't listen to her, it responded all by
itself, refusing to listen to her pleas not to. Little by little the feeling
between her legs built up, and she knew that she no longer had any control. Oh!
She gasped, and jerked upwards again, as she felt the tip of Angelique's finger
penetrate her. This was awful!
She's ready for it now, thought Angelique, as her finger slid easily up into the
now-dripping vagina. She certainly is easy to turn on. Picking up the catheter,
she slid it into the orifice, feeling gently and carefully for the opening to
the urethra. When she thought she had found it, she pushed the catheter gently
but firmly up into it.
Martine felt a burning sensation as the steel instrument was thrust through the
tiny ring of muscle that stopped her voiding her bladder involuntarily. It was
very difficult to know what was happening exactly inside her, she only knew that
this invasion frightened her, and that she hated it.
As the catheter found its way up into the bladder the urine ran out down the
tube and into the bucket. Soon, despite the intrusion of the instrument, Martine
started to relax, the tension in her stomach dying away. The relief was
tremendous, she really hadn't wanted to do it on the bed, that would have been
almost too humiliating. When the flow stopped, Angelique carefully withdrew the
instrument.
"There, how does that feel? Better?", she asked. Martine nodded. She wondered
who on earth this woman could be that knew her name, and why she was keeping her
tied down like this. The masked woman put her soft hand on Martine's thigh, very
near her crotch. This movement sent Martine's thoughts flying back in time.
The summer vacation, the seaside and Christine. Martine had been undecided what
to do that summer, and had said so to Christine, her best friend since they had
met, years ago at school and had followed the same studies ever since. Christine
was smaller than her, with short, close-cropped dark hair. Whilst she was not
fat, she did look very sturdy. This came from the fact that she was very well
muscled, since she went in for a lot of sport.
Christine had suggested that Martine go with her to a small beach resort on the
Channel coast, but Martine had objected, saying that she couldn't afford a
hotel.
"So who's talking about hotels?", said Christine. "My family has had a beach hut
up there for the last fifty years, since after the 2nd World War. It's quite big
one, we can sleep in that."
"I thought it was forbidden to sleep in them," said Martine.
"So it is, but no-one takes any notice of the rules anymore. We can use the
toilet in the cafe along the promenade, we can cook on a portable gas-ring,
it'll be a really cheap holiday, and all the sun and sand we want!"
Despite her misgivings Martine was drawn to the idea, and finally agreed to
spend a couple of weeks up there with her friend.
That August had been one of the hottest on record, the sun burning down every
day for weeks on end. They had arrived at the beach to find that there were
several other young folk they knew, and soon a happy band had formed, all of
them in the tiniest of bikinis and trunks to profit as much as possible from the
sun.
The two girls had set up home in the beach-hut. It was not very big, but there
was room for them to make up a double bed on one side, with their two sleeping
bags on it, a table for cooking, and space for a couple of chairs. They didn't
worry too much about the lack of space, they were outside nearly all the time
anyway.
On several occasions they went off along the coast to a small bay, a couple of
miles from the resort. Here they would go up into the dunes, strip off
completely and sun-bathe in private, getting rid of all those unsightly white
patches on their skin. Christine spend a lot of time during those sun-bathing
sessions just looking at Martine's naked body.
The members of the band spent a lot of time playing beach games, swimming, going
to the cafes and generally having a good time. They were young, insouciant,
happy. Everything was fine, right up to the last day, the day they were due to
leave to return to their homes. Christine and Martine were sitting on the low
wall that runs along the promenade. Both were wearing the skimpiest of bikinis,
not leaving an awful lot to the imagination. In fact, they looked extremely
sexy, a fact not overlooked by a young man who was strolling along the
promenade. He came and sat on the wall beside Martine and started to make
conversation, if you could call it that.
"What you doing t'night, then, darlin'?" he asked.
Martine pretended she hadn't heard him. He repeated his question, giving her a
dig in the ribs with his elbow.
She glared at him. "That's none of your business," she said.
"Oh, snooty, are we? Good-looking girl like you shouldn't be running around
undressed like that without a bloke to look after 'er. I'm not doin' anything at
the moment, 'ow about me looking after you?" And with that he put his arm around
her shoulders. Martine tried to pull away from him, but he was much too strong
for her and held her in a firm grip.
"Let go of me!" she said, frightened.
"No way, darlin', if I were to do that, you'd be likely to get into trouble, and
we can't 'ave that, can we!"
At this, Christine got up and stood in front of him. "Let go of her at once!",
she ordered him. He looked up at her and laughed. "Piss orf!", he said,
casually. Christine bent over and slapped him hard across the face.
"You little cow!", he yelled, letting go of Martine and rising to his feet. But
before he had time to do anything else, Christine closed with him, one knee
crashing up into his groin while the top of her head collided violently with his
chin. He made no sound, just folded over at the waist, both hands clutching at
his injured balls. Christine's clubbed fist swing round in a great round-house
blow, finishing up by hitting him just behind the ear. He went down as though he
had been pole-axed.
By this time Martine was also on her feet. She stared at her friend as though
she could not believe what she had just seen.
"Well, that's that, then," said Christine, casually. "But I think we'd better go
back to the gang. He'll probably be rather bad-tempered when he comes round. The
boys will look after us if he tries anything else."
"But where on earth did you learn to fight like that? And what an awful risk you
took, he is much bigger and stronger than you. You must be crazy!"
Christine laughed. "You know very well that I've been going to martial arts
classes in the evenings for the last two years. One of the first things they
taught us was how to look after ourselves in situations like this. My instructor
will be glad to know that it works!"
Martine shook her head, she could never have handled things that way, even if
she had known how to. She was the anti-violent type. For all that, she was
really very grateful to Christine for having got her out of such an awkward
spot, and told her so.
"No problem," said Christine. "Come on, let's go back to the others."
Back with the gang, Martine felt a lot safer. It was not unusual for
good-looking girls to receive propositions, but rarely as brutally direct and as
repugnant as the one she had just experienced. It had upset her and she was glad
that it was over. She really did feel very grateful to Christine for having got
her out of what could have been an extremely awkward and embarrassing situation.
A game of beach-volley was started and she thought no more about it. That
evening the band had decided to have a farewell party in the sand dunes about a
mile to the west of the resort. After a whip-round the girls went to the shops
to buy the food and drink, while most of the boys went off to look for
drift-wood for the barbecue and a big bonfire.
The party was a great success; even late into the evening the weather was hot
and sticky, with rumbles of distant thunder, everyone ate too much and most of
them drank too much as well. Several couples wandered off into the dunes to make
love and around midnight only a handful were left around the fire.
"Come on, "said Christine, holding out her hand to pull Martine to her feet,
"it's all over now, let's get back to the hut."
Martine, who had drunk as much as was good for her, was slightly unsteady on her
feet on the way back down the beach, and giggled every time she nearly fell
over. Once she did fall and lay laughing helplessly on the sand while Christine
tried to get her to stand up. Eventually they got back to the beach-hut. Inside,
the heat was stifling, even with the double door wide open. Tired, and somewhat
dizzy, Martine threw herself down on top of the sleeping bags, still dressed in
her skimpy bikini. The sky was overcast with thunderheads and there was very
little light in the hut. Christine thought about getting her friend into a
sleeping bag, but with the heat there was not much point, and anyway, in the
state she was in it would be quite a struggle to get Martine to do what she
wanted her to. So she lay down on the sleeping bags beside her.
The two girls lay there for a time, silently, each wrapped in her own thoughts.
Then Martine turned on her side, put her arm across her friend and said '"Thanks
for saving me from that beast this afternoon, I really am grateful." And so
saying, she bent her head forward to kiss Christine on the cheek. Christine
however had by then turned towards Martine, so that the kiss came, not on the
cheek, but full on the lips. For an instant they both froze, and then Christine
pressed her lips hard against her friends'. They stayed like that for what
seemed like an eternity. Then, slowly, Christine parted her lips slightly,
allowing the tip of her tongue to slip out and caress the lips pressed against
hers. At the same time she placed her hand on Martine's bare waist, gently
kneading the smooth warm flesh.
Martine didn't know what to do. If she pulled away, she was going to upset her
best friend, maybe seriously. On the other hand, she had, as far as she was
aware, no lesbian tendencies and she was not keen on getting into this kind of
relationship. To put things plainly, she liked the feel of a nice, big cock up
inside her, and that was not likely to happen here. Finally, with the alcohol
she had drunk fogging her senses slightly, she thought "What the hell, if it
makes Chris happy, I'll go along with it for a bit," and she made no effort to
break away.
Encouraged by this, Christine forced her friend's lips wider apart and slid her
tongue into her mouth, flicking it round her teeth until it came into contact
with Martine's tongue. Her hand moved from its position on her waist to sliding
up and down her thigh. Martine, who had had enough of this deep kiss, rolled
onto her back. As she did so Christine's hand rolled across her thighs and came
to rest between them. Martine squeezed her legs together tightly. Sensing that
it was not the moment, Christine leant up on one elbow and stoked Martine's
cheek softly. She bent down and kissed her on the forehead and then on the tip
of her nose. Martine laughed, nervously.
"What's the matter?", asked Christine. Can't we girls have a bit of fun too?"
Her hand traced the outline of Martine's jaw, then swept down gently to cup one
breast in its palm. With her thumb she started to make circular stroking
movements where she judged her friend's nipple to be. She was not far out,
because almost immediately she felt it harden, poking up in its thin bikini
covering. She went on stroking, then rolled it delicately between finger and
thumb. Martine quivered. Bending further over, Christine kissed the hollow of
her throat, then started moving her head downwards, planting little kisses on
Martine's chest as she descended, working towards the cleft between her breasts.
Then, taking a risk, she moved so that she could take the protruding nipple
between her teeth, nibbling gently, then harder. Martine made a little whistling
noise in her throat.
Christine next pushed the material of the bikini up so that the breast was bare
and she could take the naked nipple into her mouth. She started sucking, gently,
then harder, at the same time swirling her tongue round and round the nipple,
which by now was rigid. Martine shuddered violently. She was so involved with
the feeling in her breast that she hardly felt Christine's hand slip down over
her soft belly and burrow under the loose string of the bikini bottom. There,
fingers started to massage the fleshy mound covered in fine hair, and suddenly
Martine was getting a new set of signals. They told her that she was definitely
interested by what was happening, and that she hoped it wouldn't stop. She
pushed her hips up against the hand, trying to increase the pressure on her
mound.
Realising that the battle was practically won, Christine complied, pressing down
hard with the heel of her hand, using her fingers to explore even lower. As they
slipped into the crack between Martine's cunt-lips, she realised that they were
wet, very wet, in fact they were dripping. Martine was very, very aroused!
Christine found the clitoris with her clever fingers and started a deep massage.
Slowly, Martine's thighs parted, as did the thin string of the bikini, leaving
Christine free access. She didn't need any massage cream, there was already more
than enough lubrication from Martine's juices. She ran her fingers up and down,
and as the clitoris grew she pulled it, tweaked it, teased it, until Martine
began to feel a diffuse warmth growing up into her belly from the area between
her legs. The finger went lower, and lower. And found the entrance. And entered.
Martine moaned, loudly, her whole body going rigid as she felt the questing
finger invade her, push, snuggle up inside her, wriggle around, send floods of
sensation into her, through her. Her head went right back, throat taut, hips
pushing, straining at that hand that was working such wonderful magic with her
body!
Suddenly the hand was gone, and in its place, pushing her thighs wider and wider
apart, was Christine's head. The fingers on her clitoris were gone, giving way
to a stabbing, questing tongue which lapped her, driving her wild. The hand
crept back up her thigh, arrived, and this time two fingers delved into her,
opening her, exploring her, deeper and deeper, insistent, imperative. Martine
gave a little cry. The warmth in her belly was spreading right up her body, into
the breasts that she herself was now holding, squeezing, caressing, fondling.
The intruder withdrew from the depths, only to be replaced an instant later by
not two but three fingers. Martine cried out aloud, it felt like she was slowly
being torn apart. And not only did the fingers penetrate her, they set up a
rhythmical to-and-fro movement that threatened to drive her mad, plunging into
her then whipping out. Her body arched up, thrusting to meet the advancing
fingers, to accentuate the piston-stroke, falling away to increase the speed of
the withdrawal, only to rise again an instant later. The movements of hand and
body accelerated, as did her breathing and the speed of the blood coursing
through her body. Now the hand was slamming into her each time the fingers drove
forward and her breasts ached from her handling of them. She took her nipples
between fingers and thumbs and squeezed, hard, harder, crying out as she hurt
herself, trying to match the thundering waves of sensation striking upwards from
between her legs. And then, the dam burst, she was aware of nothing but a
mind-twisting nova of feeling, pervading everything, taking her over. She no
longer really existed, she was a mass of pure sensations, she didn't exist, she
floated, somewhere, nowhere. Her body twisted, arched, shook, she crushed
Christine's head been her thighs, her hands going down to lock in her friend's
hair, pulling it, until Christine cried out in her turn, but from real pain.
Christine extracted herself from those writhing thighs and put her fingers in
her mouth, tasting the musty, acrid bitter-sweet scent of her friend's ecstasy.
Then she put those same fingers into Martine's, open, gasping mouth.
"Suck them!", she hissed, and the girl's mouth closed on them and she felt the
suction and the tongue licking at them.
Martine's orgasm lasted for three or four minutes and the aftermath even longer.
But slowly, gradually, she came down from the heights, back to the real world,
to find Christine's face hanging over hers, gazing down at her wonderingly.
"My word, when you come, you really do go to town, don't you," she said. "I
can't remember ever having seen anyone come like that. That's really crazy!" And
with that she kissed Martine lightly on the lips and then lay down on her back
beside her.
When Martine had recovered a bit, she started thinking. The was she had reacted
to Christine's treatment hand been due entirely to her body, not her mind - she
was definitely not into lesbian sex, even if it had been very effective.
However, she was really very fond of Christine, and it was obvious that now she
was going to have to reciprocate, or cause a hot of bad feeling between them and
she didn't want that to happen. It was equally obvious that after what had just
happened her best friend was going to be in a highly-aroused state, and if she,
Martine, didn't perform, Christine was going to be one very, very frustrated
young lady.
"Oh well," she thought, "Just this once, but never again." And so thinking, she
turned her attentions to the girl lying beside her.
She was brought back to reality and the present by the fell of Angelique's hand
caressing her, thigh, working upwards and inwards towards her sex. The muscles
in her thigh squirmed involuntarily under the stimulus. She shook her head from
side to side. The hand became still, the eyes behind the mask looking at her,
and again she wished that she knew who the woman was.
"If I take that tape off your mouth, do you promise not to yell?" asked the
woman. She nodded.
"I warn, you, if you do make a noise I shall be obliged to gag you again, and
then punish you. Do you still want me to take it off?" Martine nodded again.
The woman lifted one corner of the tape and took a good grip on it. "OK, here we
go, press your lips to gather as tightly as you can, this will hurt a bit," and
with one swift, violent sweep of her wrist she ripped the tape off the girl's
face.
Martine almost screamed, but, remembering what the woman had said, managed to
stifle it. God, that hurt! Fortunately the sting quickly died away.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Can't you guess?"
"No."
The woman's hand came up, the thumb slipping under the bottom edge of the mask,
lifting it slowly. Martine gasped. "Miss Viard!" Angelique smiled at her.
Suddenly the girl's face flushed crimson as she realised her situation - here
she was, spread-eagled naked on a bed with one of her university teachers
sitting beside her, and worse, that teacher had just used a catheter on her! She
turned her head away and shut her eyes tightly. Angelique misinterpreted the
action.
"It's alright, Martine, it's all over now, I have got Mr Granger tied up in the
next room, he can't hurt you any more." Martine turned her head back to look at
her teacher.
"You've got him tied up? But that's impossible, he's much bigger and stronger
than you!"
"So he is, dear, but not as clever. Don't worry, I promise you he can't do you
any more harm. I heard what was going to happen and came especially to rescue
you. He's nothing but a male pig, and we're going to punish him for all the
things he has already done to you. In fact, I've already started punishing him,
now you'll be able to help me."
"But I can't, he's got photographs of me, he threatened to send them to the
President of the University, and he's taken others of me like this, he says
he'll send them to my family and friends," and she burst into tears.
Angelique leaned forward and rubbed away the tears with the ball of her thumb. "
Stop worrying about little things like that. By the time I've finished with him,
he'll be only too pleased to tell use where all those photos are, and then all
we have to do is go and collect them."
"He'll never tell you," sobbed the girl.
"Would you like to take a bet on that?"
"But that means you're going to... to torture him," Martine stammered.
"Well, why not, he tortured you, didn't he?"
"Yes, but... Why are you doing this for me? And why won't you let me go?"
"I want to make sure you understand the situation first, Martine. As you can
appreciate, I've taken quite a risk coming here like this. When I found out what
was going on, I could have easily decided that you deserved whatever it was you
had coming to you, and washed my hands of the whole business. After all, you did
cheat, didn't you. That makes me think, I must persuade him to give me the
proof. Anyway, I came quite willingly, I couldn't stand the thought of what he
might do to you. You know that you are one of my favourite students." The last
sentence was accompanied by a hypocritical little smile. At the same time her
hand, which had remained on the inside of Martine's thigh during their
conversation began its caressing movement again.
Martine's blood froze - she understood all to well the subtle message. Now she
was really in trouble, on the one hand a sadistic male teacher, on the other a
lesbian female teacher, and her in the middle, like the filling in a sandwich!
The hand was moving up, closer and closer to her sex.
"Please, don't do that," she said, in a little-girl voice.
"Don't do what dear?"
"You know."
"I'm afraid I don't, what do you want me to stop doing?" This latter in a
somewhat more brittle tone of voice.
"Stroking me."
"What on earth for? You like it. I can feel your muscles squirming where I touch
you, that's a sure sign that what I am doing is agreeable."
"No! No, it isn't! I don't want you to touch me like that! I'm sorry, but I
can't...I mean I ...Oh!, please just stop!"
"I think you are being very ungrateful, Martine, after all the trouble and risk
I have gone to to save you from that rabid male in the next room. I am quite
sure that if you just lie back and relax, you will soon realise just how
agreeable this is."
"No, I won't! I hate it, It's horrible, it's unnatural, I'm not like that,
please leave me alone. Please untie me and let me go home!"
Angelique's expression hardened. "Martine, let's get one thing straight, shall
we. I came here for you, and I am going to have you, whether you want it or not.
I have no idea whether you are just playing hard to get, or whether you really
don't want me. Whatever it is, you'd better get it into that lovely little head
of yours that you are going to come to me, sooner or later, and ask me to make
love to you."
"Never! I hate you, you're disgusting! You're worse than him!"
Furious, Angelique slapped the girl's face, hard, several times.
"Shut up, you little cow. It's time you started to realise who's the boss around
here!" And so saying, she picked a wiffle-ball gag from the bag on the floor.
"Open your mouth," she ordered the girl. Martine clenched her jaws tightly
together.
Without any hesitation, Angelique's other hand shot out, grabbed a nipple
between finger and thumb, and instead of squeezing started to twist it
violently. The pain was agonising and Martine's mouth came open to scream, but
she never got the chance because Angelique immediately let go of the nipple and
used her two hands to force the gag into her victim's mouth. Once it was firmly
in place, she lifted the girl's head and buckled the strap tightly on her neck.
Then she sat back and looked the struggling Martine. It was obvious that she was
not going to become her lover willingly, but Angelique was absolutely determined
that she would become her lover in some way or other. Perhaps more of the
treatment Mike had been giving her would bring her round. The truth was, now
that she had seen Monique in action and had had the opportunity to do a few
things to Mike, she was really getting a taste for the sadistic stuff, and would
not be adverse to trying some on Martine. The problem was to get the girl off
the bed and into the torture chamber safely. She couldn't afford to take any
chances now.
Get up, she wandered back into the next room and started looking at all the
equipment that Mike had collected for his weekend with Martine, maybe she would
find something useful there. Mike, of course, was still standing spread-eagled,
trembling, his balls stretched towards the floor, but he could wait. In fact,
Angelique thought that it would be very interesting to let Martine see her beat
Mike's balls, it might help to bring her round. If it didn't, no harm done. But
first, she had to get her into the room.
There was a long table along one wall, covered with instruments, pages of
magazines, computer printouts and what-have-you. Rummaging through them, she
came across a vicious-looking nose clip. This was in the form of two flat, round
discs, joined together by a fairly strong U-shape piece of metal with a small
screw through the two arms of the U for locking. From the inside face of each
disc protruded a dozen or so extremely sharp metal spikes, very thin and about
4-5mm in length. Picking it up, she went back to sit on the bed between Martine.
The next problem was going to be fixing it on her, she wasn't just going to lie
there and let Angelique do it. Finally, she pulled a fairly big lock of the
blonde hair together, just above the right ear. To this she tide a cord, which
she led out the wrist cuff and tied off. She did exactly the same on the other
side of Martine's head. Now, if she tried to move her head, she would pull her
own hair, painfully.
Opening wide the clip, she slipped it into place over the central division
between Martine's nostrils and, with a fairly quick movement, pressed the two
discs together. Martine screamed as the tiny spikes penetrate the sensitive
septum, biting deeply. Then Angelique did up the screw, so that both discs were
pressed tightly against the partition, the spikes securely embedded into it. A
thin cord was attached to the U and she had the ideal lead. She tried it out by
pulling on it, after untying the girl's hair. Martine howled in protest, quite
audibly through the wiffle-ball, and her head came up quickly to try and take
the strain off her nasal passage. It was obvious that pulling on the cord would
create sufficient pain to persuade her to do as she was told.
It was then that Angelique realised that whilst she had the means to persuade
Martine to follow her, she still hadn't solved the problem of preventing an
eventual attack. She put the heel of her hand up against Martine's sex and
pushed hard, with a twisting motion, while she thought about her problem. This
was to make Martine realise just how helpless she was, and that Angelique could
do what she liked to her, when she liked.
Finally she decided that the only way to do it was by brute force. Martine was
still wearing the black leather choker round her neck with the D-rings in it.
Angelique untied the cord holding her left wrist to the bed, poked the end of it
through the D-ring at the back of Martine's neck, and pulled. And pulled! It was
an unequal struggle and very soon Martine's arm was draw up behind her and
attached very securely to the choker. Angelique did the same with the other arm,
untied the girl's feet, tugged on the nose-clip lead and quickly had her victim
standing up, ready to move.
Martine made no attempt to resist when Angelique started to lead her back into
the other room, any pull on the nose-clip, she had discovered, was extremely
painful. Her eyes widened in surprised when Angelique lead her to stand in front
of Mike. She took in the spread-eagled posture, the balls tied together,
separated, stretched, and the look of pain and sheer apprehension on her
tormentor's face. She began to realise that Angelique had the upper hand over
the pair of them, and that she was prepared to go to some lengths to get what
she wanted.
"There now, doesn't he look pitiful, standing there like that, waiting for
something to happen to him?" asked Angelique. And then, suddenly, she had a
brilliant idea. She would let Martine feel the effects of beating his balls. She
led the girl round behind him and told her to place her feet wide apart, just
inside Mike's. Quickly she lashed her ankle cuffs to his. The she tied a long
cord to the cuff around Martine's right wrist. The free end of this cord she led
up through the steel hasp on the cuff holding Mike's arm above his head. Then
winding the end securely several times around her own hand, she undid the knot
in the cord holding Martine's arm up behind her and at the same time pulled
strongly and quickly on the cord she was holding. The result was the Martine's
arm was drawn up in the air, her hand coming to rest just below Mike's. She
decided that it would be dangerous to tie-off the cord up there, Martine might
just be able to get at the knot with her fingers and undo it, and that would
never do. Instead, she threaded the cord through the D-ring in Martine's choker
and tied it there. She repeated the operation on the student's left wrist, and
then stood back to inspect her handiwork.
Martine was now spread-eagled up against Mike's back, the only difference being
that she was tied to him, instead of to the eye-bolts in the overhead beam and
the floor. Next, using a series of cords of different lengths, she tied their
two bodies together at elbows, upper arms, chest, waist, thighs, knees and
ankles. The result was that Martine was pressed very firmly against the back of
the naked body of her English teacher, her breasts flattened against his back,
her belly tight up against the cheeks of his ass. In other circumstances the
girl would have found this position exciting - even now it was very agreeable -
but after what had already happened to her, she suspected that Angelique had not
tied her in this position just for her pleasure. She would have tried to resist,
but it was obvious that Angelique was planning every move before carrying it
out, not taking the slightest chance of letting either of her victims escape.
Mike would also have appreciated the feel of the girl's body pressed up against
him, had he not been too preoccupied with his own thoughts about what Angelique
had said she was going to do to him. With his head held upright by the cord
between the overhead beam and the ring at the top of the gag harness he couldn't
see his balls, though he could certainly feel them!. They ached. Badly. But that
was infinitely preferable to what was to come. He trembled again in anticipation
and Martine, in intimate contact with his body, felt the trembling, though she
had no idea what was causing it. She felt the cheeks of his ass clench and
unclench against her soft belly and the sensation was strange...but nice!
Naturally, working on the pair of them together had not been in the original
plan, thought Angelique, so she would have to improvise as she went along. So
far, she was not doing too badly. Already the sight of the two bodies roped
together was giving her a new idea. She moved behind Martine, put her hands on
the girl's upper arms and started stroking downwards towards her armpits. When
she got to them she changed from stroking to tickling. The girl made funny,
choking noises behind the gag and started squirming around. The movement was
transferred to Mike's body - as the girl moved, so did he, he couldn't help it,
they were so intimately linked together. This confirmed Angelique in her idea.
She slid her hands down the girl's sides to the cheeks of her ass and grabbed
as much of she could of each of them in her hands. And started to squeeze,
firmly and rhythmically. Martine squirmed some more, not in pain but in
pleasure. She felt quite relieved, maybe Angelique was not going to hurt her
after all. But the teacher's words quickly dispelled her illusions.
"I had planned to beat Mr Granger's testicles with a length of rubber tube, an
extremely painful operation." Mike's hopes were immediately raised by the use of
the word "had", Angelique had obviously changed her mind, that would have been
far too sadistic. If she had gone ahead and done it she would certainly have
done him a lot of damage.
"However, before doing so," she went on, to the accompaniment of Mike's sinking
heart, "I plan to do something else. We mustn't lose sight of why we are here,
all three of us. Why am I doing all this? To punish Mr Granger, of course, for
what he has done to Martine, and to persuade Martine that being my lover is much
better than being treated in this awful manner." She spoke didactically,
clinically, as though she were lecturing a group of students, and this made her
words all the more scary.
"As I was saying, I had planned to beat his testicles next, but I have changed
my mind. I think that it would be better to give Martine something to think
about. My problem is, tied up as the pair of you are, I don't have much access
to Martine's body. Her ass is about the only part of her which is really
available to me. But that has already been beaten, and I hate doing the same
thing twice, it's the sign of an unimaginative mind, and I would not like either
of you to think that I am lacking in imagination! And to prove it, here is an
idea for you. Instead of beating that ass, I am going to massage it. And when I
say "ass", I really mean that, not the cheeks, but what is between them, that
delicious crack and the charming little hole in the middle!" When she heard
these words, as though the treatment had already started, Martine's ass-cheeks
clenched quickly, as though under assault. Angelique felt the action through her
hands, which were still holding Martine tightly. She laughed.
"Yes, I think a nice little massage would do you a lot of good, my dear. The
trouble is, I don't have any massage cream. However that's not really a problem,
because our American friend here has found the solution, as I realised when I
saw him massaging your breasts last night." And letting go of her grip on
Martine's ass, she walked over to the table and picked up the red tube of Deep
Heat. Going back behind the girl, she grabbed a handful of hair, twisted her
head round and held the tube up in front of her, so that she could see it.
"Judging by the way you reacted to an application of this on your tits,
massaging the crack between the cheeks of your ass with it, and especially that
delicate little hole, should produce rather interesting results, don't you
think?. In fact, if you are very good, I might even be persuaded to be very nice
and stick my finger, well anointed, up inside your rectum. And in that case, the
results would almost certainly be, not just interesting, but positively
spectacular!"
Martine was horrified! This just couldn't be happening to her. It would be
inhuman! She shook her head violently tried to speak, but as usual only
succeeded in making funny noises.
"What's that, dear, you can't wait to try it?" Angelique laughed. "Well, don't
worry, it's going to happen any time now." She went back to the table, found a
surgical rubber glove and pulled it on to her right hand, paying particular
attention to her middle finger, making sure that the rubber was stretched
tightly over it. As she passed back in front of Mike, she wiggled her fingers
playfully at him. "Sorry to make you wait, but don't worry, when Martine has
finished thrashing around, we'll come back to you."
Back behind Martine she unscrewed the cap of the tube and squeezed a good-sized
dollop of the liniment onto her gloved finger. With her free hand, she took hold
of one of the girl's ass-cheeks, meaning to pull it to one side so as to have a
clear field of action.
Martine's reaction to this was immediate and natural - she thrust her hips
forward violently, at the same time clenching the muscles in her ass, in a vain
attempt to protect herself. The sudden action took Mike by surprise and his hips
shot forward too, tightening the tube holding his balls. He gave a muffled yell
and automatically thrust his hips backs to relieve the strain. As he was much
stronger than Martine this movement was very effective, pushing her ass back and
out, the cheeks coming apart, revealing her intimate little asshole. Angelique,
who had been expecting this, took advantage of the situation by immediately
sticking the finger covered with Deep Heat into the crack and sliding it up and
down. The cream acted as a lubricant, making the movement easy. She continued,
rubbing quite hard, working the liniment into the very sensitive skin. Finally,
the tip of her finger, still well covered with the cream, found the tiny hole
and pressed against it. Martine shrieked and clenched her muscles as hard as she
could, in an attempt to stop it entering. But it was no good, the cream
lubricated the entrance and suddenly Angelique's finger slipped inside. Martine
screamed, not in pain, the liniment hadn't had time to take effect, but in
outraged horror. She was no little innocent, sexually, but no-one had ever done
anything like this to her before, it was disgusting!
Having got her finger well up inside the girl's rectum, Angelique decided to
improve the shining hour, first by sliding it in and out rapidly, as though
making love to it, next by bending the tip of her finger at the first joint, to
that she could touch the walls of the bowel and then twisting it around,
massaging as much of the inside as she could reach. After a minute or so of
this, she slid her finger out, pulled off the rubber glove, threw it in the
nearby bin and stepped back to see what would happen next.
She didn't have long to wait. Martine's ass itched, clenched, unclenched, as the
warmth started to grow. At first it wasn't too bad, but within minutes the pain
was driving her crazy. She screamed, and screamed, and then screamed some more,
as the fire ran down the crack, through that incredibly tender and sensitive
ring of muscle, and up inside her. That was the worst part of it, that searing
fire inside her, as though someone had heated a poker red-hot in the fire and
thrust it up her delicate little ass-hole.
She went practically mad with the pain, which was atrocious, writhing and
thrusting with her hips with all the strength of that madness and, because they
were so tightly tied together, Mike was forced to move with her, putting ever
more tension into the tube stretching his balls. Hurting them more. It rapidly
turned into some bizarre kind of wrestling match, Martine, writhing, thrusting,
bucking, trying to get away from the fire, and Mike, trying to keep still to
save his already-sore balls from the pull of the tube. Suddenly, Martine broke
out into a heavy sweat, her glistening skin sliding easily over that of her
involuntary partner, lubricated by the salty liquid, as she continued her
frenzied dance. She was in agony, her existence re-centred between the cheeks of
her ass and the burning orifice. The pain was quite incredible and as the
minutes ticked by it seemed to be getting worse and worse. And not only did she
scream with pain, she screamed with fright. She was scared. Scared that that
tiny hole would be permanently damaged by this terrible treatment. Already she
felt that she had lost all control of it. Scared of what other terrible things
were going to happen to her during this weekend that seemed to stretch out to
eternity in front of her. Oh God, why had she ever been so stupid as to look at
that exam paper! Her toes curled under and all the muscles in her feet clenched,
while her fingers dug into Mike's wrists, as though she were trying to suck some
force from him to help her in her pain. She HURT!!!
