Excerpt from: Thrall of the Pentacle: Part Three

 

Jasper Locke was a solid, square-jawed man with a pencil moustache and close dark hair combed straight back from a widow's peak. In between her sobs of pain, Pippa thought he could have stepped straight out of a film of the nineteen thirties or forties, where he would have been playing the slightly suspect man with superficial charms who at first attracts the heroine but who loses her affections to the leading man. He then either stoically departs accepting the better man won or else shows his true colours and tries to bump him off in a final dramatic scene, usually involving a high cliff or perhaps a train.

Locke was evidently not the stoic type.

'At least you two won't get away from me, eh?' he said.

That was certainly true. Olwen and Pippa were in Locke's bedroom bound to a frame composed of a sturdy central post mounted on a low solid base with a T-bar crossing it at about head height. Olwen and Pippa both faced inward, looking into each other's faces over the T-bar, to the ends of which their wrists were cuffed. Chains from the post were also hooked to their collar rings, making it impossible to pull away from it. Their spread feet rested with their toes resting on the base of the frame with their ankles cuffed to tether rings. They were both bent sharply at the hips which were thrust outwards from the frame, held there by adjustable angled rods fixed to its centre post which drove padded bars into the pits of their stomachs. This meant that their buttocks and groins were grossly exposed, with their pubic pouches and anuses on display and offered up for whatever kind of misuse their master cared to inflict upon them.

To add to their misery, Locke had clipped light chains to their nipples with cruel metal toothed spring clamps and then linked them together, the chains running through rings set in the sides of the central post. The tension in the chains, opposing the outthrust of their hips, stretched their breasts out as though they were pointing at each other. They could feel each other's slightest movements through them. Their mouths were stuffed with ball gags, to mute their cries of pain in consideration of the comfort of the guests in neighbouring rooms. They drooled about the gags while looking into each other's tear-reddened eyes.

Locke was clad in a dressing gown open at the front to expose his considerable erection. He had a whisky glass in one hand and a spanking paddle in the other. He had already used it to turn his captives' buttocks a burning scarlet. Now he circled round them, sipping his spirit and lashing them with the paddle, using an underarm swing that caught the bulge of their buttocks on the rise. With their backs bent and legs stretched stiffly forward braced against the thrust of the rod in their stomachs, their pubic mounds pouted beyond the curve of their thighs. Locke smacked his paddle into them with the same satisfaction as he paddled their backsides.

'Now that is a fine sound,' he said, half to himself and half to them. 'Rubber on girl flesh. It warms the heart. That's what I missed today. The bitches were too fast for me. I was hoping to have the prize for the first to be brought back to the gate. Never mind, eh? Better luck tomorrow.' And he swung his paddle again.

He was just playing with them, warming them up for what was to come.

And yet, perversely, both Pippa and Olwen were wet with desire. Their juices dripped from their sexes onto the floor or else were splattered across the blade of the paddle. But their need was not for their user's cock, although they would be getting that soon enough, but for the release that only orgasms could bring. Both Olwen and Pippa essentially had the responses of thralls and could not deny them.

From the box of accessories that the Lodge thoughtfully provided for its guests to use on their girls, Locke found a set of spring clips which he attached to the outer lips of their pubes so that the handles hung downward. They whimpered as the metal teeth bit into their sore labia already heated by the paddling. Now the clips made them pinch and bunch up unnaturally. After letting them suffer for several minutes, Locke selected a long whippy cane, stood back from them and one by one flicked the clips off their fleshy mounts with its tip, skimming it across their buttocks. Pippa and Olwen screeched in pain as the jaws were torn from their tender flesh.

Locke delved in the box and found two strings of pearls: a dozen rubber balls of different sizes from beads to table tennis, strung closely on a heavy wire with a handle on one end. He anointed the strings with the ointment that came with them and then fed them into Pippa and Olwen's reluctant rectums. They clenched to try to stop him, but they were not strong enough to prevent the balls entering their naturally greased and slick interiors. They gasped and moaned as he thrust the different sized spheres past their anal sphincters which bulged and pinched as they swallowed each one in turn until their passages were stuffed and only the handles projected from between their trembling rosy-cheeked buttocks, which now swelled unnaturally. The handles had ball-tipped hooks on their sides by their bases and these he then hooked into the mouths of their vaginas.

For a few minutes Locke circled his living tableau, chuckling as he watched the girls wriggle and squirm with increasing desperation as the ointment burned and itched within them and they strained to expel the bead strings, only to be prevented by the hooks digging painfully into the walls of their vaginal passages.

Standing to one side and taking fistfuls of hair in his hands he twisted both their heads towards him so he could look them in the eye at the same time, savouring their flushed faces and tear-filled eyes. 'Do you want me to take them out?' he asked.

They snivelled and whimpered and nodded desperately.

He freed the hook in Olwen's vagina, grasped the handle and yanked hard. There was what sounded almost like a ripping sound as the string of balls was torn out of her sore backside's tight flesh well, and she sobbed and shuddered with shock. Locke then did the same to Pippa. She had a minor orgasm as her sensitized anus bulged, gaped and clenched about the string of balls as they were ripped out of her. Helplessly she sprayed her juices across the carpet while her multiply stretched anus gaped wide.

By now Pippa and Olwen were half-crazed by the need to have him inside them so they could find some proper release. Locke ran his hands through their simmering, dribbling pussy clefts, making them roll their eyes up in shuddering desire, teetering on the brink as he read the depth of their desire.

'Hot sluts, aren't you? Gagging for it. Want to feel a real man's cock inside you?' They nodded frantically. He pulled their ball gags out. 'Tell me how much you want it.'

'Shove your shaft up me now, Master!' Olwen begged. 'I'll die if you don't.'

Pippa's pride shredded as she begged, 'I need you inside me, Master. Don't be gentle. Ram it up as far as it will go. I've got to cum!'

'Do you want it up your cunnymouth or your arsehole?' he asked.

'Either... both!' Pippa shrieked. 'Just do it now, please!'

Locke obliged. Positioning himself behind her he bent over and clasped her throbbing tethered breasts and rammed his straining manhood up Pippa's slippery bottom hole. After half a dozen thrusts, he pulled out of her sucking rectum and moved around to Olwen's dripping vagina, taking hold of her nipple-chained breasts in turn. After a quick riddle inside that he pulled his dripping shaft out and moved up to her anus. Then he came back round to Pippa's gaping vagina...

And then they came all over him.

* * *

When he was at last totally drained and content, Locke could not be bothered to unfasten Pippa and Olwen from the frame. So, he threw a cover over them as they were and went to bed. In the muffled, close, dark stillness Pippa whispered, 'The sodding lazy bastard! Bed for him and a night strapped in this thing for us.'

'Yes, Mistress,' Olwen agreed softly.

'Are all the guests going to be this mean?'

'Maybe only the ones who miss out at the hunt, Mistress.'

'Can we sleep in this, do you think?' Pippa wondered. 'It should be impossible... but I'm so tired I probably will. And we must keep our strength up for tomorrow. What about you?'

But Olwen was already asleep.