Taboo

Keywords: Abducted, 06, Ch.,

"This would be great," he mused, picking up a large double dildo, "but we've been warned off your ass!"

He rummaged further. "This will do nicely," he finally announced, "not too big, not too small." He picked out a large flesh-coloured, natural-looking specimen, twenty centimetres long and about three centimetres across, fitting it snugly onto the waiting spike. He loosened the nut at the end of the spike, raising it so that the end of the dildo was at the entrance to Emma's vagina. Instinctively, she shrank away from it, rising on tip-toe. Boris took a tube of lubricating gel, applied a good dollop to the dildo, and smeared some on the inner walls of her vagina. "Hold her hips steady, Clyde," he asked, "I'll make sure this thing docks correctly." He pushed a switch, and Emma felt the intruder pushing upwards, separating the lips of her pussy, and entering her cavern. She winced, and tried to get further on to her tip-toes, but the dildo continued its slow progress. Emma tried lifting her body by pulling with her bound wrists, but the ropes on her ankles allowed only a couple of centimetres extra movement.

Finally, Boris flicked the switch again, and the advance ceased. "That should do it," he announced, "there's about twelve centimetres up there now, but you're on tip-toe. If you come down, I reckon your clit will rub nicely on the little nub at the base. Want to try it?"

"No, I don't, you bastard. You can't leave me here like this. Let me go!"

"Oh yes, we can," he sneered, "and I'm not finished yet. I need to do something about these!"

Boris pulled roughly on the chain attaching the clamps on her nipples, and Emma gasped as the clamps dug deeper into her flesh. Boris looked thoughtful. He sought and found a couple of lead weights, which he attached to the chain. Emma gasped again. Boris stepped back and viewed her with a practised eye. "No," he mused, "I don't like the way it makes your tits sag and hang down." He thought again, his brow furrowed, but suddenly a smile appeared on his lips. "Yes!" he hissed, "I've got it!"

He searched and found some thin twine. Standing on a stool, he passed one end through a pulley on the ceiling directly above Emma. He then tied one end of the twine to the centre of the nipple chain, and removed the weights. Getting down on the floor, he attached the weights to the other end of the twine, so that they just rested on the floor. Emma watched with consternation as he pulled on the twine, her breasts being forced upwards in the shape of a cone, the clamps biting into her tender nipples. Boris added some more weights, made a few further adjustments, and then stood up to admire his handiwork.

"What do you think, Clyde," he asked proudly. "Look, if the bitch stands on tip-toe, the weights rest on the floor, but when her feet and ankles get too sore for tip-toe, and she comes down, the weights are pulled off the floor, and the pain in her tits will increase. Ingenious, isn't it?"

"Yes, Boris," said Clyde, with a supremely bored expression, "Very clever. Can we go now?"

"Please, no!" screamed Emma suddenly. "You can't do this, please. I can't bear any more."

"Oh, and one final thing," replied Boris, "this switch works as well."

As he pressed the second switch, the dildo began vibrating gently. It didn't move a lot, just buzzed slightly in Emma's vagina, feeling remarkably like a fast-fluttering tongue. Emma sighed, and moaned. "No, please," she whimpered. "No more!"

"Not sure how long the battery will last," announced Boris, "but we're off now. We won't be too long. Enjoy yourself while we're away."

"You bastards!" called Emma as they locked the door behind them.

Emma hung on her frame, and considered her sad predicament. Raped, abused, humiliated, tortured, left here in agony, she saw no prospect of release. The dildo in her pussy was no problem; she could cope with that – in fact the constant buzz was becoming quite pleasant. She could live with the clamps on her nipples; they had been there so long, she was getting used to the constant pain. If, however, she came down from tip-toe, the weights applied extra pressure to the clamps, and the pain increased tenfold. Already, a pain was building in the arches of her feet, and travelling up the backs of her calves; it got worse with every second. She wouldn't be able to keep on tip-toe much longer.

She tried pulling on her wrists, attempting to take the strain off her feet and legs, but her arms were already wracked with pain. No – she couldn't hold this much longer. Experimentally, she lowered her heels to the top of the bar to which she was attached. The weights came off the floor, and a piercing agonising pain grasped her distended nipples. Her breasts were pulled, distorted into a sharp cone. She grimaced, and suppressed a scream.

No, that was no good; she couldn't stand this for long either.

She peered down towards her feet, at the weights hanging from the long length of twine, watching them sway backwards and forwards.

Suddenly, an idea began to take shape in her befuddled brain. The weights were swaying, like a pendulum, almost touching her toes. She bit her lip against the impending pain, went on tip-toe so as to ground the weights, and quickly dropped her heels again.

Yes! As a shot of agony surged through her tortured tits, she saw with delight that the swaying was increased. Concentrating madly, fighting the immense pain, she raised and lowered her heels in time with the swinging of the pendulum, increasing the arc of swing, and bringing the twine ever closer to her outstretched toes. Finally, in exuberance, she was able to grasp the twine between the toes of her right foot and hold it there. Her pulse raced. She relaxed momentarily, and then pulled on her wrists, raising her feet as much as possible, managing to reach the weights with the outstretched toes of her left foot. She tried to guide them onto the bottom bar of her frame. At the third attempt she succeeded. She relaxed her wrists, and allowed her heels to descend to the bar. Oh yes! With utter joy, she realised that the weights stayed on the bar, above the floor, and now she could relax her feet from tip-toe without having to submit to an unendurable agony from the nipple clamps.

Through the dull ache in her nipples, Emma was aware of the constant throb from the dildo in her pussy. It penetrated her by about twenty centimetres. She pushed against it, and found that the little ridge at the end vibrated gently against her clitoris. It felt good, and she automatically tightened the walls of her vagina around the intruder. "Oh, Max!" she whispered to herself, tears trickling down her cheek, "Oh, Tiger! I wish you were here!"

Exhausted, she hung on her frame, barely conscious, aware only of the pain in her arms and breasts, and of the vibrations in her pussy. She gazed down at her naked body, the soft white flesh criss-crossed with angry red welts – on her breasts, stomach, pubic area, and thighs. She could only imagine what her poor buttocks and back looked like. She sobbed quietly, all hope now vanquished. She lost track of time. It seemed that hours had passed since her tormentors had left her here. She found that the pain lessened a little if she pushed herself against the dildo, clamped her pussy around it, and thought of Max, remembering his expert love-making, and imagining his tongue on her clit, his cock in her cunt. Slowly, almost unwittingly, she found herself moving up and down on the dildo. "Oh, Max. Oh, yes, Max, my Tiger! Fuck me! Hurt me!" Her mind seemed distant again. She closed her eyes, and drifted in a warm sea of pleasure, mixed with numbing pain. She rubbed her clit against Max's finger as if drunk, trying to forget to her predicament.

Suddenly, the door burst open. The abrupt movement startled Emma from her reverie, and the resulting vibration on the frame toppled the weights. Emma howled as the clamps bit into her nipples and the chains distended her tits. She came to; Max had disappeared; only Boris and Clyde were in the room, shouting at each other, and at her.

"Hurry up. Get her off that frame quickly. We've only got a few minutes before they arrive," cried Boris excitably.

Boris untied her ankles and Clyde her wrists. Boris lifted her off the still-throbbing dildo, and Emma screamed as Clyde removed the nipple clamps, allowing the blood to rush back into her tormented buds. Hurriedly, Boris carried her over to the screen. "Quick!" he commanded, "Have a toilet and clean yourself up a bit. We're expecting company."

Emma sat on the toilet seat, glad to relieve her bursting bladder. She rubbed her aching wrists and arms, trying to restore circulation. "Hurry up!" called Clyde. "We don't have much time."

In a daze, Emma hobbled to the basin, wet a flannel, and tried to rub it over her face and body. Her arms were so sore she could hardly manage to hold the flannel, let alone use it. "I can't!" she said. "My arms won't work. They're too sore."

Boris appeared behind the screen, grabbed the flannel from her and roughly wiped it over her tear-stained face. "Water, please," she murmured to him.

He filled a glass, and she drank greedily.

Boris continued wiping down her ravaged body and with his incompetent fingers made an attempt to re-arrange her hair. "That'll have to do," he finally announced. "We're running out of time."

"Who is coming?" asked Emma, tremulously.

"Just some friends. You'll find out soon. I hope you like them," he responded with a grin.

Roughly, Boris grabbed her arm, and pulled her back into the room. Clyde was standing near the bed, holding ropes. "On the bed?" he asked.

"Yes. Face up!" agreed Boris.

Within seconds, Emma found herself lying on the bed, her wrists and ankles tied to the four corners, leaving her thighs spread and her pussy exposed. The door rattled. "OK!" yelled Boris, "Two minutes! Nearly there!"
That's what you get for marrying a policeman.

Keywords: Abducted, 06, Ch.,