Painful Pathway, page 4
Vic glanced casually at his watch and seemed to pause for thought. Then he said, “These things can sometimes take hours, can’t they? And it’s almost lunchtime. We’d better go and see the dairy herd.”
The dairy was modern and clean and like any other dairy. Except, of course, that the ‘cows’ were twenty-five young women in various stages of pregnancy. They were naked and had each been branded with the letters ‘RD’ on their engorged breasts, one letter on each tit, for Rabanne’s Dairy; and like the woman in the birthing room, they were totally bald, their heads shaven, and a number branded on their scalps. A complex pumping apparatus was set up, with each cow attached so that milk could be pumped from her.
“The machinery operates automatically on a regulator and takes nine fluid ounces from each udder every three hours. The Dairy Master, Jacobson, oversees everything. There are a great many men who are willing to pay handsomely for the pleasure of drinking breast-milk and for the gratification of fucking a heavily pregnant cow. Those huge rounded bellies and engorged breasts are such a turn on. I wonder if that is what Rabanne has planned for you after the pool party? Well, better get you caged.”
Vic pushed the chair back towards the house and entered through a back way. Sophie was scared about whatever was about to happen to her but very relieved to be away from the dairy, away from sights she found extremely distressing. It was all so utterly repugnant and she felt sick to the stomach to be in this unholy place. Omar Rabanne was far more evil than she had even imagined.
Vic took her along a corridor that led to a magnificent indoor swimming pool, housed under a glass roof, with mosaic tiling and steps, changing rooms, a lounging area with bar, a galleried viewing area - and at the far end six metal cages! Five of the cages held a naked woman, bound and gagged, but the sixth was empty, its door open; a reel of bondage tape, a gag and a blindfold lay in a discarded heap beside it. He freed Sophie from the straps that held her fast in the wheelchair only to immediately bind her securely with the black tape. He bound her wrists behind her back and then her ankles to her wrists so that she was double backwards in the most uncomfortable of positions, then gagged her with the rubber ball gag and put the leather mask over her eyes, shutting out all light. She lay on the cool tiled floor, cruelly immobilised, totally unresponsive, whilst Vic began to fondle her unnatural breasts.
“Gorgeous,” he sighed as he kneaded and squeezed. “I never saw jugs so big. The doctor’s work, I assume? I hope I get the chance to fuck them once the party guests are finished with you.” At last he ceased his groping, lifted her with ease and almost threw her into the small metal cage; he slammed shut the door, locked it and left. Only then did Sophie give way to tears.
It was a long time before anyone returned to the pool area. The sky above the glass ceiling was pitch dark with twinkling stars. Sophie was aching dreadfully, her limbs throbbing and she had shamefully wet herself. But at last she heard some activity - voices, coming and going, the scrape of metal on the floor and a cacophony of indistinguishable sounds. It was in fact Vic and another man and two naked women carrying various sorts of equipment. They came back and forth with leather-topped stools, metal benches, sex aids, crops, paddles, canes ... all sorts of paraphernalia that they placed around the pool area.
A bartender in a tux arrived to set up the bar and a waitress in a bunny-girl outfit lay out a buffet of various cold dishes and nibbles. Soft music began to play over a hidden sound system and candles were lit. Soon guests began to arrive, men and women, all of them naked. Some of the women wore collars about their necks but nothing else. Friends greeted one another, the room filled with chatter and drinks were handed around. Things were very soon well under way - with whippings, fucking and perverse sex acts galore, both in and out of the water.
The so-called ‘pool party’ was a glorified orgy. And soon the host of this depraved event arrived. Doctor Rabanne appeared, naked as everyone else and began to mingle. Vic and the other man came over to unlock the cages and hand the women over to those who had not brought slave-girls of their own.
Vic dragged Sophie from the cage, released her from her bonds and threw her into the pool. Shocked, she spluttered and struggled before striking out for the edge and clambering out. She lay on the tiles panting. Suddenly someone was grabbing her upper arm and pulling her to her feet. It was Rabanne. He ordered her to position herself over a leather-topped fucking stool that stood beside the pool. Obedient but gasping she leaned over the low rectangular stool and he fastened her down with the attached straps and chains so that she was secured in the doggy-style position and then he blindfolded her. Someone - was it Rabanne, she wondered - began to rub his semi-erect manhood between her cheeks whilst another erection was forced into her mouth. She wondered with a pounding heart just how many men were ogling her, waiting their turn to use her. The man standing behind her now thrust his erection into her tight rosebud and she howled as he forced his way past her resisting sphincter and began to drum against her bottom, shoving and thrusting with fervour.
The man in front of her grasped her hair and forced her mouth around his knob once more. A pair of hands caressed her back almost seductively. She heard the grunts and groans of a highly aroused males close to climax and wondered whether her mouth or her ass would be the first to receive hot creamy spunk; it was neither, for suddenly warm stickiness spurted against her back and was then smeared around - someone had been wanking over her whilst the other two were busy using her mouth and back door hole. Then her mouth filled with stickiness that dribbled down her chin as the face-fucker gave a few sudden jerks that signalled his climax. He withdrew and another immediately took his place, a shorter but fatter penis sliding between her lips and into her mouth. She obediently began to slide her mouth up and down the short thick shaft, flicking at the knob end with her tongue. Once more her mouth filled with warm spunk and once more another penis took the place of the one just drained. And still the man inside her rear was drumming away, his stamina amazing; she began to wonder if he would ever come.
Five pricks emptied themselves into her mouth before the sodomist at last climaxed, bursting into her with savagery and an animalist roar of triumph. As soon as he moved away another ally in their united abuse session took up position and thrust his organ into her soaking love tunnel. He ground himself against her, gyrating his hips and stimulating her clitoris with obvious skill and experience, but held out only for a short while before climaxing; and immediately his place was taken by yet another. Just how many men were going to take her? She was so sore, her labia lips swollen and burning from the over stimulation. After at least half a dozen men had taken her (unless some had taken her twice, she could not really be certain) she was released from her restraints and manhandled into position on the floor lying on her back with a cushion of some sort beneath her hips. She felt a stiff erect member being eased into her wet, open tunnel - and then a second! There were two cocks inside her love channel at once! They began to ease in and out of her together in unison, keeping a slow rhythmic pace, until they climaxed only nano-seconds apart from each other. Just as they withdrew, Sophie experienced her own massive, electrifying orgasm, the greatest she had ever known, far greater than anything she had ever achieved by her own hand or with Natasha; she had never imagined that her body could feel like that, achieve such a sexual high - and she felt agonisingly guilty for experiencing such pleasure under such circumstances. Her own body had betrayed her.
Each now semi-erect penis in turn was pushed into her mouth for cleaning and then wiped on her hair. Firm callused hands then undid the straps and chains and pulled her to her feet. She was moved across the floor made to stand against a brick wall. She stood unsteadily, frightened, aching, wondering what the hell was going to be done to her now. Then she heard Vic’s voice very close by raised above the noise of the music, chattering, sex sounds, and glasses clinking.
“Sir, Tony Scullie will be here in half an hour,” he said, presumably to Rabanne.
“Take this one for him,” Rabanne answered. The next thing Sophie knew she was being half led, half dragged from the room. Once in the corridor the blindfold was removed. In silence Vic took her up a narrow flight of well-worn steps, which might once have been servants’ back stairs, to an upper floor and a large dressing room. Vic indicated she should sit down at a dressing table. She obeyed dumbly. He proceeded to blow-dry and brush her hair and then gave her a quick makeover to hide the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the paleness of her skin. He then produced an outfit for her to change into. She silently put on the ivory silk stockings, suspenders and ivory lace bra and Vic then helped her into a flouncy white lace gown. Finally she slipped on a pair of silver satin shoes.
“This is a wedding dress,” she said in surprise, her voice husky with weariness and pain.
“Of course,” Vic laughed. “Tony has always had this desire to rape a bride on her wedding night - and you, precious, are going to be the bride!”
Chapter Four
The bedroom that Vic took Sophie to was even more of a surprise than the dress. No detail of the fantasy had been overlooked, even to a brass plate on the door that read ‘Honeymoon Suite’. Obviously Omar had spared no expense in creating this mirage for his friend ... or was he a client, paying well for this service? Was Omar Rabanne a pimp as well as a pervert, whoring her out to strangers? Vic had said that men paid handsomely to have sex with the pregnant women in the ‘dairy’ - had the party guests and this Tony paid well to have sex with her? The thought disgusted her.
There was a huge heart-shaped bed with crimson satin bedding that was sprinkled with pink rose petals. ‘Congratulations’ cards stood on the dressing table and on shelves and bouquets of flowers were on every available surface. There was a bottle of Champagne in an ice bucket on a silver hostess trolley along with a huge bowl of fresh strawberries and a plate with a slice of wedding cake. There was even confetti scattered about on the pink deep-pile carpet. There was a travel kettle and sachets of coffee, teabags and mini pots of milk and sachets of sugar in a basket on a sideboard, creating the atmosphere of a hotel room. There was a settee, a TV with a combination video-DVD player, and a stereo from which soft romantic easy-listening music was playing in the background.
“There’s a video you have to be watching when Tony arrives - it’s ready in the player. He shouldn’t be long now.”
As soon as she was alone, Sophie tried the bedside telephone but it was an internal line only and a male voice sharply ordered her to get off the line. With a sigh of resignation, she kicked off the silver shoes and went to sit down on the settee. She took up the remote control, switched on the TV and video, and watched disinterestedly, wondering miserably if she would ever escape from this nightmare alive. The video was an amateurish home-video of a wedding and whoever had shot the footage had been careful not to capture the bride’s face - she was always seen from behind or in a heavy lace veil that concealed her features; she might have been anyone and that was just the point.
Sophie jumped with fright when the door was suddenly flung violently open and Tony burst into the room. She leapt to her feet and regarded him with genuine fear. He stood framed in the doorway glaring at her with glazed eyes. Her first observation was that he was old - easily old enough to be her father if not her grandfather. He had a head of silver white hair that was lank and greasy and a huge beer belly. Her second observation was that he was dirty - his faded too-tight denims were stained and the faded grey tee shirt grubby with sweat marks under the arms. When he lunged towards her and caught her wrist, grinning at her leeringly, showing yellow stained teeth, she almost wretched at the strong stench of tobacco and beer and sweat combined. This man was vile and she could not bear the thought of him touching her.
“All alone?” he asked her in a sneering voice. “Where’s the lover-boy groom disappeared to, then?” Vic had instructed her regarding what she should answer to any such questions as he had helped her to dress but now her mind was blank. All she could think of was how disgusting this man was and how desperately she wanted to get away from him. She wrenched herself from him and hurled to the door, screaming, “Vic, Vic, for God’s sake, please ...” but Tony, despite his looking very unfit, moved swiftly and immobilised her easily. He kicked shut the door and locked it.
“No point calling for him, babe. He can’t help you now. I’m going to have you, screw into you, spill my spunk into your cunt and seed your belly even before your darling lover-boy has had the chance to get your knickers down.” He pulled her across the room, away from the door towards the settee and looked at the TV screen where the video was still playing. “Is that him then? Is that the groom whose pretty virgin bride I’m going to despoil? Perhaps he’ll thank me for preparing you for him!”
He gave a harsh guttural laugh and pulled her towards the ostentatious bed. He threw her onto the crimson satin duvet then grasped her hair tightly with one hand whilst with the other he unzipped his flies and pulled down the jeans and dirty Y-fronts. Having kicked them off he then immobilised her with a knee pressed against her belly whilst he removed his tee shirt. He lay over her, pinning her wrists down above her head and crushing the white satin fabric beneath him.
She struggled desperately but it was little more than a symbolic resistance for she was helpless against him. He pressed his mouth hard against hers, forcing her lips apart, and thrusting his hot tongue hungrily into her mouth. She could feel her mouth swelling and taste her own salty blood as his teeth dug cruelly into her lips. At the same time he brought a knee up hard between her legs, pressing painfully against her intimacy, and tightened his grip on her wrists so much that she could feel the flesh bruising beneath his fingers. His mouth travelled from her lips to her neck, slavering over her flesh greedily, then down her bare shoulder and her cleavage.
He released her wrists and tore the dress to reveal her colossal, firm breasts restrained within the ivory lace - he ripped this with his teeth to gain access to her bare skin. He sank his teeth into the huge white milk-globes, leaving bite marks, then suckled hungrily on her nipples and pulled at the rings with his teeth so that she cried out in agony.
He raised himself from her and turned about on the bed so that his fat cheeks were thrust into her face; he grasped the hem of the bridal gown and tore the satin from border to waist, exposing her stocking-clad legs and bare intimacy. He made an animalistic grunt of arousal as he forced her legs wide apart and plunged his mouth to her slit.
She whimpered and sobbed as he gorged himself on her swollen pink lips and small red bud, his erection jabbing against her breasts and his ass in her face. Eventually he ceased his gluttony, turned about once more, and thrust himself into her tunnel with a groan. He plunged and pumped fiercely with no rhythm or pace, his face buried in her hair against her neck, growling and snarling like a beast close to her ear.
At last he erupted into her, spilling his hot vile fluid into her tunnel with a roar of triumph that mingled with her loud agonised cry of shame and horror. He did not withdraw at once but remained inside her for a few moments, raised on locked arms now and gazing with sadistic satisfaction at her distraught tear-stained face as she turned her head to sob into the pillow.
“I’ll be with you forever now. Every time you think of your wedding you’ll think of Tony Scullie buried deep inside you, fucking you, spunking you.” He gave another harsh laugh and lay down on the bed beside her. He groped about on the floor for his discarded trousers and took a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket. Having lit a cigarette, he took a few long drags on it then stubbed it out on Sophie’s right shoulder, causing her to scream and then to sob more pitifully still. He then dressed and left.
Sophie remained curled up on the bed crying, wallowing in self-pity and ignominy. She had never felt so humiliated, so used, so disgusted in herself and her own body. Being taken by Tony Scullie had been even more utterly repulsive and debasing than anything Rabanne had done to her so far.
When she eventually awoke from a troubled and dream-filled sleep, Sophie took a long shower in the en-suite and donned a man’s towelling bathrobe she found hanging up in there, grateful and relieved to at least feel physically clean once more. She tried the door of the bedroom but of course it was locked. She sat curled up on the sofa staring into emptiness waiting for whatever was to come. At least there was a degree of comfort in the meantime, she sighed to herself.
Eventually Vic turned up, with a very welcome tray of coffee, juice and scrambled eggs on toast. Sophie tucked in hungrily, having had nothing at all since breakfast at the clinic the morning before. Vic disappeared briefly whilst she was eating and returned with a bundle of clothes, which he threw down on the sofa. At his instruction, once she had finished her meal she dressed. There were red fishnet stockings, a red basque with a hoist-cup top that lifted and displayed her painfully heavy breasts and a slim red leather dog collar for about her neck that bore a small gold disc engraved with the word ‘slave-bitch’. He then escorted her downstairs to a fully equipped ‘playroom’ containing similar toys, tackle and apparatus as had been at the poolside the evening before, as well as other paraphernalia such as bondage chairs, a bondage bed, a fucking-wheel and various hoists, pulleys and swings. Stood waiting for her in that menacing room was a tall, burly man wearing combat-style clothing, and carrying a backpack.
