Rachel, part 5
The house was French Provincial style on a spacious hillside lot with a
spectacular view. It had a three car garage and a couple of Mercedes parked in
the driveway, also an assortment of more common cars as guests arrived. It
reeked of money. My wife,Rachel, and I had met our hosts, Brian and Madeline, at
church, one of those swinging churches. We recognized some of the other guests,
at least by sight, but we didn't know anybody well. Madeline, dressed in a very
chic outfit, served wine and cheese while we all got acquainted, more or less.
Some of the guests had partied here many times.Others, like Rachel and me, were
first timers.
"OK," said Brian. "Does everyone know the rules? We're going to act out
some fantasies. We've asked you all to submit suggestions. Those of you who
didn't will just have to take pot luck." Rachel and I had not described our
favorite fantasies.
Madeline contributed: "Remember, no penile penetration of anybody without
protection. We don't want anyone to go home with more than they came with. If
anyone feels that the fantasy is more painful than they can stand, yell
'elephant.' That's the code word to stop. You can go home, and the rest of us
can carry on. Of course, it goes without saying, you have all released the
others from any liability, and what goes on here is private, not to be talked
about outside the church. Any questions? Those of you who brought costumes,
now's the time to get dressed. All of you, please take your shoes and socks or
stockings off. We'll all meet downstairs in the playroom."
We followed the few who were not changing clothes down the stairs to the
basement. There was a bar, a fire crackling in the fireplace, and marches
playing on the sound system. An X-rated video played from the VCR, with the
sound turned off. Rachel and I watched and drank some wine while the other
guests came down in ones or twos. The video involved three beautiful young
women and two studs, cavorting in and around a hot tub.
Then Brian and Madeline came down, wearing similar uniforms. I guess they
were supposed to be some sort of military police, with brown slacks and shirts,
riding boots, and some sort of rank insignia on epaulets. Brian looked quite
handsome in his outfit, tanned and muscular. Madeline had left her shirt mostly
unbuttoned, showing a lot of cleavage. "Prisoners," she announced, "I am Captain
Lopez. You will address me as Captain. This is Major Krupp. You have all been
arrested for crimes against the state, for concealing vital information, but we
have ways to make you talk." Major Krupp opened a door and herded us all in with
a wave of his riding crop. The interior was dimly lit with candles, the walls
concrete painted to look like stone. Madeline lined us up along a wall and
shackled our wrists to chains in the wall. I looked over at Rachel, who grinned
at me. The music on the sound system changed to a sound effects record of
people screaming. The effect was eerie.
Madeline stood before Art, a young lawyer, I believe, who was dressed as a
peasant. She held her riding crop under his chin and hissed, "Tell me where you
are hiding the guerrilla leader." Art spat at her. "You will pay for your
insolence!" she shouted. She tore at his shirt, which tore away as if it had
been prepared for that. Similarly, the seams of his trousers gave way, leaving
him naked. The major helped her unshackle him. He did not resist, as they
bound him with straps. She cuffed his hands behind his back, then tied him
elaborately with ropes, pulling his forearms together and his shoulders back.
She fitted him with a sort of leather jockstrap which looked uncomfortably
tight. She put straps around his ankles and upper thighs, pulling his heels up
against his butt, forcing him to kneel. The major assisted her in putting a
strange mask on his face, which forced his jaws apart and held his tongue down.
"This is so you cannot relieve your pain by swallowing your tongue," she said to
Art. "When we are through with you, you will tell us all we want to know."
They finished by putting a collar around his neck and chaining it to a ring in
the floor with a short chain, so that he was doubled over. She gave him a
couple of licks with her riding crop and said, "Well, who is next?"
The major went over to a large, dark woman who, like the rest of us, was
shackled to the wall. She was wearing an off the shoulder blouse and a patched
peasant skirt. He tore at the blouse, which, it turned out, was held together
with Velcro. Of course, it came off in his hands, exposing her big breasts.
The skirt came off, too, revealing a great bush of black pubic hair. "What is
your name?" he barked. "Mademoiselle Aubra, Major," she replied."Well,
mademoiselle, if you wish to escape the pain of the lash and the branding iron,
you will obey without question. Is that clear?" "Yes, Major, sir." The captain
unchained Aubra and said, "Choose a victim."
Aubra pointed at me. The two women stripped me and strapped me,
speadeagled, to an X-shaped wooden cross, almost like a crucifiction, except my
weight was on my feet. The captain took off her shirt entirely, displaying her
nice, medium sized breasts in front of me. She took a large, black vibrator
and, reaching between my legs, shoved it up my ass. I hadn't planned on that,
but it didn't hurt much, after the initial shove. She turned it on, and the
buzz against my prostate had my penis standing tall in a second. "This man's
torture will be to watch what we do to his wife!" she said. "Seize her!" She
pointed to Rachel.
Rachel looked genuinely frightened for a moment, as Aubra, stark naked, and
the captain, topless, stripped the clothes off her. It wasn't difficult, as
Rachel was wearing a bandeau top, which pulled off, and stretchy tights, which
similarly pulled off. The major brought out a padded saw horse, which he set
down in front of me. The two women put cuffs on Rachel's wrists and ankles.
Her ankle cuffs were then anchored to the legs on one side of the saw horse and
they bent her double over the padded cross bar, fastening her wrists on the
other side, opposite her ankles. Her exposed ass hole and shaved cunt were
staring up at me. Her face, upside down, looked up at me from below her cunt.
She gave me a fleeting smile of reassurance that she wasn't hurt. "Now, swine,
you will talk, or your wife will suffer for your silence," said the captain.
"Very well, prisoner," she said to Aubra, "commence the torture, the water
torture, at first, I think." Aubra brought out a garden hose. (She obviously
knew her way around this torture chamber) She first of all wet down Rachel with
cold water. Rachel's nipples puckered in response to that. Then Aubra
concentrated a strong spray on what she thought were vulnerable spots. She
played the water back and forth across Rachel's breasts, making them sway from
side to side. She directed the stream between her legs, driving her outer labia
apart. "Enough," said the captain to Aubra. "Apply phase II." Aubra brought
out a hose with a balloon on the end. I've seen one of those before, I thought.
I'd seen Rachel's mother shove one up her ass. Aubra, however, slipped the hose
into Rachel's vagina and held it place with thin straps around Rachel's thighs.
The captain pointed at the rosebud of Rachel's anus, just feet in front of my
face. Aubra smeared some lubricant on it and then inserted the conical tip of a
big rubber thing. She pushed, until Rachel cried out. "Ah, she will talk
soon," said the captain, which might have been a signal to stop hurting Rachel.
Aubra pushed a bit more (it think the rubber was flexible) and held it in with a
strip of adhesive tape across Rachel's buttocks. The major stood by with two
clear plastic domes which had tubes extending from them. The captain greased
the edges and fitted them over Rachel's breasts which, because her torso was
head down, already stood out from her chest. The major went to some controls,
out of my sight, and water started to flow into the domes. It forced air to
escape around the edges, until the domes were full, and water leaked out. Then,
suddenly, the domes sucked tightly down against Rachel's chest. Her breasts
visibly expanded into the clear water. They turned the saw horse so that
Rachel's back was to me, and the other prisoners could see what was happening.
"Suction on the breast tissue," he explained, "has been known to make even the
toughest female prisoners compliant." They replaced the saw horse, so I could
look between Rachel's splayed legs and see her tits turning pink in the suction
machines.
There was one more torment to be applied. Aubra turned on water to the
hose in Rachel's vagina, while the captain observed the effect. She focussed a
spotlight on Rachel's cunt, so she and I both could better appreciate what was
happening. The water pulsed,filling the balloon in spurts. The balloon grew
larger, filling Rachel's vagina, spreading her inner lips, stretching her,
almost as if she were having a baby. But the pressure could build up only so
far. Then the water sprayed out vents around the base of the balloon, impinging
on Rachel's stretched opening and especially upon her clitoris. Rachel flashed
a wan smile to reassure me, but then the look on her face changed. I knew the
meaning of that expression; she was turned on, turned on good. The water
pounded into her, stretching her cunt perhaps a hundred times a minute, and each
stretch was relieved by a gush of leakage that spurted right on Rachel's love
button. She strained at her restraints, tried to move her immobilized body,
heaved great gasps and made mewling noises like a hungry kitten. My guess is
that she was having an orgasm a minute.
Another male prisoner, Mike, was stripped and strapped to a sawhorse much
like Rachel's. They gave him an enema which had him howling in protest and
spewing shit on Art, who was still chained with his face against the floor.
When they were done with the enema, they found Mikes's wife and stripped her of
her clothing. She was a skinny blonde, the kind who has tits like lemons and a
wide space between her hard, muscular thighs. I guessed that she dieted
constantly, worked out three hours a day, and would never be thin enough, by her
standards. The captain put nipple clamps on the end of the blonde's conical
little tits. While the major spread the blonde's legs, Aubra lubed her little
blonde bush and shoved a big double headed rubber prick inside, strapping it on
with straps to her waist and between her legs. But for the tits, she looked
like a particularly well hung boy, with about eight inches of fat rubber prick
rampant from her crotch. They showed her off to the rest of us and then led her
to Mike. The major adjusted the height of Mike's saw horse. Aubra held the
blonde's hands, pulling her toward Mike, bending her over while the captain
steered the rubber prick into Mike's ass. They made his wife fuck his ass,
whipping her buttocks from time to time to increase the vigor of her thrusts.
She began to shriek and cry out, "Oh, God! Oh, fuck! Oh, Jesus, it's making me
cum!" Mike didn't look too happy, to have his wife so enjoy fucking him, but he
bore up under the assault to his ass.
While this was going on, the major came over and appraised Rachel's
condition. She was close to exhaustion, having been sexually stimulated to
countless orgasms, each one burning up calories. He released the straps which
held the hose in her cunt, and the balloon pumped itself out of her in jerks,
until it fell to the floor in front of me. Rachel's vaginal walls had been so
exercised that they had lost their muscle tone; her cunt gaped open. I could
look in, see the bright red walls of her overstimulated love tunnel. When
Mike's ass hole began to wear out, and his wife was almost as spent as my
Rachel, they tied the blonde's wrists down and left her, draped over Mike's
back, her prick still in his ass.
The next prisoner to be "interrogated" was a redhead, a big roly-poly woman
who had, I think, came to the party alone. She, too, had dressed like a
peasant, and they tore the clothes off her easily. They cuffed her hands behind
her back and paraded her around for all to see. Her pubic hair was as red as
her head. She was a fleshy woman, well rounded. Her shoulders were round. Her
huge breasts were round, but punctuated by what might be the biggest nipples
I've ever seen, the size of my thumb. Below her breasts her pale belly swelled
almost as if she were pregnant. (I'm sure she wasn't) Fat bulged out above her
cunt, almost like an apron, half shielding the slit from view. They brought out
a thing like a child's swing, Two A-frames on wheels with a cross bar. They sat
her big ass in a canvas sling and strapped her wrists to the supporting ropes.
Then they lifted her feet and strapped them far apart and high up by her wrists.
Now her cunt was very prominently displayed between her great pale, fleshy
thighs. The slit, only thinly veiled by her curly red hairs, was vertical. Her
huge breasts with their incredible nipples squeezed out between her upraised
knees. Her feminine attributes were there for all to see. The major put a
spotlight shining on them and set her swinging.
The captain, childlike in comparison to the fleshy one, proceeded to whip
her with a cat 'o nine tails. The lashes seemed to be rubber tubing; they did
no damage, but the redhead's pale skin turned pink as the captain lashed her
huge buttocks, thighs, and, of course, her thrust-out vulva. She must have
found it stimulating, for she became quite wet. The captain spread the fiery
cunt lips (I noticed the captain had long nails) and ran a finger up and down
the fiery red groove. "This one resists our efforts to make her talk," said the
captain. "We'll take care of her later."
There were four prisoners still chained to the wall, a thin man named
Robert, his date, and two women, who had arrived together. The pair of women
were stripped and bound with straps, tit to tit, belly to belly, with straps
under their arms, around their waists, between and around their upper legs.
Then the four wrists were strapped together and they were lifted off the floor,
to hang pressed together. Robert was "crucified", much as I had been, with a
vibrator up his ass, and that left Robert's date as the center of attention.
The captain and the major snapped big whips, threatening the woman until
she took off her own clothes, quite a long operation, as she had ignored the
advice to remove her pantyhose, and she had a longline bra with half a dozen
hooks in the back. Perhaps she was another novice; there's always one who
doesn't get with the program. The two "policepersons" suspended the last one by
her wrists from a rope and pulley from the ceiling. That was only temporary,
however, for they rolled up a mechanical horse, the kind you see outside
supermarkets for kids to ride on. You put in a quarter and it bucks for a
while. This one was a little different, bigger, with a real leather saddle. It
had another difference; sticking up out of the saddle was a big rubber penis.
The major made a big thing of lubricating the woman's cunt, and then the three
torturers lowered the woman onto the penis and fixed her feet in the stirrups.
When she was all in place, quite unable to get off the impaling prong, they
loosened the rope which had supported her weight, letting her still bound hands
hold the reins. It was a subtle thing. By "posting", straightening her legs,
she could raise her butt a little off the saddle, but not far enough to clear
the rubber tower in her cunt. If she relaxed her legs, she sat solidly on the
thing, which drove into her, filling her vagina and mashing her outer lips with
her own weight. The captain turned on the horse, which rocked back and forth
with a churning sound from its motor, slowly at first, then faster and harder.
The impaled woman held onto the reins as her torso was flung back and forth and
her cunt was fucked more violently than any man could have done it. Sweat
gleamed on her chest. Her nipples stood tall as her breasts jiggled. In maybe
twenty seconds, she was jabbering and crying that she was coming. The captain
watched carefully for a while, then switched off the horse. "Are you going to
tell us where the stolen papers are hidden?" "No," the woman gasped.
"We'll get back to you. Think about it," the captain said. She turned her
attention to the "sandwich" of two women who still hung from the ceiling. She
whipped them with her soft cat 'o nine tails, making them swing and twist on
their suspending rope. Then she lowered them enough that they could stand on
tip-toe. "Well," said the major, "it has been a disappointing session. None of
the prisoners has talked. This calls for more drastic measures." So
far, no one had called a stop. I was still strapped to my cross, with my pecker
hard as a rock and a vibrator in my ass keeping it that way, but I had suffered
no pain. The guy, Robert, was similarly bound, and his prod stood tall, too.
Rachel was draped over her saw horse, right in front of me. Her ass hole was
stretched by the rubber plug and her breasts were being "tortured" by the water
machine, but, orgasmically spent as she was from the "water torture", she seemed
in no pain. The all-girl sandwich was just standing there. The horsewoman,
Robert's date, who sat tall in the saddle with a rubber penis in her cunt, was
also in repose, more or less. The redhead was in her swing, with a spotlight
aimed at her cunt, but she seemed in no discomfort. Mike was still strapped to
a saw horse, with his wife on his back and a double dildo joining them. Judging
from the way his wife squirmed from time to time, she was likely enjoying it,
even though her efforts to frig herself were fucking her husband's ass. Art,
the lawyer, was still chained to the floor by his neck and spattered with Mike's
shit. The sound system still provided a background of screams. I have read that
the physiological response to fear and the response to sex involve the same
nerves. The fearful screams, which also contributed to the sense of unreality,
seemed to turn on some of the prisoners. I wondered how this was orchestrated.
Was Robert's fantasy to be crucified, to see his date horseback riding while
impaled on a prick? Who's idea was ass fucking by Mike's wife? His or hers?
Or somebody else's? The redhead, who was on display in her swing -- many people
would think her fat and ugly,rather than Rubenesque and feminine. Were these
parties perhaps her only sex life? Did she long to have people look at her
naked with appreciation, not disgust? And Art, the lawyer who was shit upon,
did he enjoy that? I think so.
The major called out, "Mademoiselle Aubra, she has not yet been properly
interrogated. Perhaps she will talk." He and the captain hustled the naked
woman onto a table, on her back, and strapped her down, spreadeagled, with her
arms and legs spread. Before they secured the second leg, the major took a
vibrator with a long thin tail on it in slipped the tail into Aubra's ass. When
they tightened her down, the handle, with the batteries, lay between her legs,
while the vibrating tail snaked into her rectum. Mademoiselle Aubra, of course,
said nothing.
The captain came over to Rachel and gave her a perfunctory swipe on the
buttocks with her whip. "You. We will need another assistant." She released
the suction on the tit stretchers and removed the plastic domes. Rachel's tits,
pinker than the rest of her, actually did look bigger, from my viewpoint. She
left the plug in Rachel's anus and the cuffs on her wrists and ankles but
released the chains which held her to the saw horse. Rachel was slow to get up.
The captain urged her on with a few blows of the soft whip. Rachel's job now was
to apply the water torture to Aubra. When she hesitated, the major gave her a
painful nip on the ass with his riding crop. She was more obedient then. I
watched her constantly, naked but for the cuffs and the butt plug. The captain
snatched off the adhesive tape, and the plug fell out.
Rachel put the plastic domes over Aubra's breasts, and the captain went
through the procedure of filling them with water, then applying suction.
Aubra's tits swelled, trying to fill the domes, and she squealed little cries of
excitement. She had her eyes fixed on them, fascinated by the sight of her
breasts rising up into the plastic domes. Rachel fitted the hose with a fresh
balloon into Aubra's cunt before the woman on the table fully realized what was
happening, though she had participated in Rachel's "torture." Rachel fastened
the straps around Aubra's thighs, so it wouldn't come out. When the captain
turned on the water, Rachel just stared, watching close-up what had been done to
her. Of course, Rachel had been unable to see what was happening in her crotch.
Spurts of water filled the balloon, stretching Aubra's sheath to its utmost.
Then the pressure would release in a spray on Aubra's clit, and the cycle would
repeat in less than a second. This simple hydraulic engine was fucking Aubra's
cunt and tickling her clit with tireless ferocity. Aubra clenched her teeth and
lay still for, I don't know, a minute or two. Then she started straining at her
straps, rocking her hips, and vocalizing loudly. Evidently, English was not
Mademoiselle Aubra's native tongue. The captain stood by the controls. She cut
the flow, let Aubra catch her breath.
The major turned on the horse again, which chug-chugged at an ever
increasing pace. Robert's date went through the whole "torture" again, first
trying to keep the rubber pillar from wrecking her vagina, finally being
overcome and raped into oblivion, an ecstasy of rapid-fire orgasms. The horse
slowed to a walk and then was still.
About that time, spray started again in Aubra's crotch; the hydraulic
machine must have been on a timer. We all watched as Aubra did her thing,
writhing in ecstasy as she was raped by water. When Aubra was reduced to
blubbering idiocy, the water shut off and they left her, stretched upon the
table, panting for breath.
Next, the "police" directed their attention to the female sandwich. The
two women, strapped tit to tit, belly to belly, had not been penetrated, neither
cunt nor ass. Perhaps they had a thing about that. That did not mean, however,
that they were to be spared sexual stimulation. The captain and Rachel spread
their legs with leg spreader bars. The major hoisted them higher, so their
asses were about the level of his head, and he stood like a fireman playing warm
water between their legs with a hose. The women had been kissing each other,
but the play of water on their cunts soon had them gasping and wriggling against
each other, as much as there bonds would permit.
Rachel and the captain released Mike's wife and then Mike. Mike lost no
time in removing her dildo, plopping her on a mat on the floor, and screwing her
violently. Since they were married, they didn't bother with a condom. Mike's
wife wrapped her slender legs around his ass and her arms around his body and
acted as if she would never get enough of his prick.
The captain straddled Art, pissed on him, then stuck the tail of one of
those rat-shaped vibrators up his ass. "Fuck all lawyers," she said.
The sandwich ladies seemed exhausted from their "torture", so the major
turned off the hose and lowered them to where they could stand on their feet.
The horse started again, reaming Robert's date, and the hydraulic fucker started
in on Aubra a gain. Their squeals of ecstasy drowned out the screams of the
sound system. Meanwhile, the captain and Rachel had been having a little
discussion on the side. With the major's help, they wheeled the swing with the
voluptuous redhead until her cunt was opposite my groin. Rachel carefully
covered my upstanding penis with a bright orange ribbed condom. Then she tried
to steer my prick into the redhead, without a lot of success. The major
released my hands, so I could bend my knees to improve the alignment.
Meanwhile, the captain was fondling the redhead, getting her even more ready for
sex. She took some "Superglue", instant glue which hardens with moisture and
has all sorts of warnings not to get it on your skin. She put a few drops on
the prisoner's inner thigh and then pressed one of her fleshy outer lips against
it for a few seconds. She repeated the gluing on the other side, and now,
instead of a slit, there was a gaping funnel. Rachel pulled the vibrator out of
my ass and held my stiff prick horizontal, while the major pushed the swing.
Now it couldn't miss, and my condom-sheathed penis plunged into the redhead's
vagina. Rachel took over from the major and pushed the swing back and forth,
not enough of a swing to let my prick slip out. The redhead grinned at me and
tried to look down between her monster breasts to watch what was fucking her
cunt. Rachel seemed to have a sense of what would do, stopping if she thought I
was near coming, so as to prolong the "torture." Sometimes the redhead's sheath
would slide over my penis ever so slowly, and other times she would be slammed
against me, her soft ass squashing me against the cross which supported me.
I was so intent on the delicious sensations that I didn't notice what the
captain and major had done, until I saw that Robert's date was off the horse,
sprawled, exhausted on the floor, and Robert was busy humping the captain, while
the major served Aubra, using an incredible French tickler with fingers on it
about an inch long. Aubra's cunt had been so stretched by the water torture
that the large diameter didn't bother her.
When I had ejaculated into the redhead, into the condom in the redhead,
Rachel released me and told me I had better finish the job with my tongue. As
the prisoner's labia were held gaping apart, her clitoris was fully exposed and
readily accessible to my mouth. While I concentrated on that clit, Rachel
watched the woman's reactions and coached me on technique. When she judged the
prisoner had been "tortured" sufficiently, she released the redhead from the
swing. The woman kissed me passionately and then buried my head in her boobies,
to the point that I could hardly breath, immersed in their softness. Rachel
said, "Suck her nipples, or I'll whup your ass." I did. While I was doing
that, someone released Art, and he went off to shower and dress.
At last the redhead was sated. "My name is Clarice," she whispered. "You
could ask for me next time." I noticed I could hear her clearly; the screams
had stopped. Clarice did not head for the showers immediately. She discovered
that when she walked, her labia, still glued to her legs, rubbed together. She
wandered around, savoring the effect and trying different strides.
Robert finished with the captain, dropped his now heavy condom on the
floor, and headed for the showers. The shower door was open; they were communal
showers, with several shower heads on hoses, for "personal hygiene." The major
and Aubra also headed for the showers. The captain, well fucked by Robert,
reverted to being Madeline and solicitously released the sandwich women, who
kissed each other and went hand in hand to the showers. Rachel took the cuffs
off her legs and ankles, and we went to the showers together. Oblivious to the
other bathers, we soon got to fooling around, spraying each other, and I ended
up fucking her standing up, all soapy. When I had finished, we heard clapping,
and Rachel blushed.
We rinsed off and recovered our clothes from the torture chamber. Back in
his role of gracious host, Brian, dressed in a polo shirt and shorts, offered us
refreshments, which I declined, as I had to drive. Madeline, wearing a black
body suit, took Rachel aside, and asked her to write down some fantasies. Brian
asked me to do the same. I won't tell you what I requested, and I don't know
what Rachel wrote, but as we left and Brian called, "See you next month," we
were both excited, anticipating the next party.
