FORBIDDEN KISS - Extract

© DrkFetyshNyghts 2019

 

Tammy's mother struck an immeasurably striking figure. She was naked save for the hold up stockings and the heels. And her arms were outstretched and above her. They had been secured to a beam that was lowered, and then risen above her via a micro motored hoist. She hadn't been forced to stretch too far - just to the maximum of her high heels. But it was that her arms were wide, secured by the wrists, that she looked almost biblical in the way she was presented.

And then there was the lighting, and the mood, and the vibe that she was presented in. It was a vast room, almost warehouse in size or comparison, except for some reason this room or this space was underground. It was like taken for granted that this room was underground. Or that the majority of it was underground. The reason for that assumption was that there were slats up high - along one of the walls where it met the ceiling. Those slats were onto a street somewhere and let in streams of light - like shards of light that dissected the air and the room. But the glass in those slats were thick and impenetrable by any sound at all. There should have been sounds coming in, but there wasn't and that was a worry. There were shadows of people or cars travelling or walking alongside those slats high above. But to anyone on the outside, they would just be slats that let little bits of light into a basement level room. In fact, to anyone passing by, or driving by, there would be no thought attained to what was below. Or who was in the room, or what happened in there.

Until the powerful halogen spots were turned on, those slats had been the only light in there. The spots lit up Glenda but nothing else. They lit her up brightly, perfectly and completely. But beyond the column of light that she was contained in, there was nothing. Beyond that column of light it was just blackness - and the halogen spots seemed even to dim out the light from the slats high above. At the very most those shards of lights, created eerie patterns, and seemed to hold little specks of dust in suspended animation. And then there was the noise. Nothing big, nothing too alarming. Just the sound of Glenda moving her high heels from time to time. Like the little scraping of metal tipped heels on bare stone or concrete flooring. And this happened when Glenda altered her weight distribution. Or at least when she tried to do that. There was in fact very little play for her to do that. Her spread arms were so high - that is she was forced to stretch so high and with the spread of her wrists so wide across that supported beam, that there was very little play for her to alter her weight from one stiletto to the other. Rather about all she could achieve was changing the weight from one tippy toe to the other. That would have afforded her some relief in the early hours of her isolation, but it would have been short lived.

There was the physical torment that Glenda was being forced to endure. That would have been bad enough for anyone to comprehend let alone get their heads around. There was this industrial scale abuse of human rights at play - and yet there was this vibe, this 'normality' about it that would chill anyone to the bone. This was a woman, a modern successful woman being held somewhere in her own country, in the capital city of the United Kingdom - and yet she had no rights. A woman who had been stripped of basic human rights and was being held in this 'place' that had this concentration camp feel to it. One had to wonder, one had to spare a thought for what must have been going through Glenda's head. There would have been this desolation in her mind. To an extent there would have been this emptying of her mind. She wouldn't have wanted her mind to be emptied - it would have simply been like a sieve that anything logical leaked out and stayed out. There would have been the fear. Fear for herself and the worry for Tammy. Tammy would have been large in her mind. But so to would have been the fact that she couldn't see an end to this nightmare. And then of course there was the fact the since being in this space, she had already been through a nightmare of epic proportions, and that was becoming evident the closer one looked at her.

It didn't help then that that chains were wrapped around each of her ankles, and her feet forced to spread wide - as wide in fact as her wrists above her. Those chains were pulled tight and then fixed to pulleys anchored to the walls a long way away from Glenda. It was a fact that she was in the middle of this vast place. The whole design of it, pointed it to being someone almost of obsessive nature. The placing of Glenda in the centre, the hoisting up of her arms. The spreading of her feet and the tightness, the tension in those horizontal chains keeping her feet wide, and at the same time preventing her from closing them at all. And those chains, precisely the same height as her ankles, all the way back to the walls to which they were secured, and adjusted. It was a worrying thing - this room and the micro attention to detail in it. The fact that Glenda in this state had been 'designed'. It made one have to think about what kind of person spent time, a great deal of time, thinking this out - and then actioning it. Erika was that kind of person. And then of course there was the mess that Glenda was in. Marks on her leg legs, her arms, her torso. Little bruises and scratches that told of some kind of abuse having been committed on her over a period of time. Maybe that she had been manhandled a lot of times in some way or another.

With Glenda's stilettoed feet parted wide, the spent semen literally poured from her and formed a pool directly between her legs. Again a very precise pool of spent semen that got bigger and bigger, as it emptied out of Glenda and onto the floor. It was only after a while that a second pouring of semen became apparent. And that this second pouring was from between the ass cheeks of this woman. That semen pouring from her anus. There could only be one assumption, and that was that Glenda had been penetrated by cocks. And that those cocks had delivered their loads deep into her. What couldn't be assumed was exactly how many times she had been penetrated. The only assumption in this scenario, was, because of the amount of semen that dripped and drizzled from her, was that there was a whole lot more than one or two men had been inside of her. And so right at this point in time, Glenda had a lot to think about. A lot to think about, or try to make sense of with a mind that had been melted to an extent and that was still melting. She may have been spending her time trying to think about what had happened to her. Maybe even she was trying to stop the replays in her mind. Maybe what had happened to her between the apartment and now kept on auto replay in her mind, and it was that, that was driving her to the point of insanity.