THE CASE FILES OF "DR. BONDAGE"
|by Van ©2014|
|OUR STORY CONTINUES|
Suki's new code worked. The saddle-machine teased and titillated Charlie's pussy for hours—long, frustrating, exasperating hours.
At the start of any given stimulatory session, the bristle- and knob-covered pads would begin to vibrate, just at the limit of Charlie's increasingly hyper-sensitized perception. This would continue for several minutes, with the various stimulatory elements varying their intensity and generating rippling waves of buzzing, teasing energy. Eventually, the phallus would join the party, weakly vibrating and slowly extending to its full length... then retracting back into saddle... then extending again. Working in concert with the pads, the intensity and speed of the thrusting and the vibratory waves would build to a crescendo... then back off to its former, less-enthusiastic level... then ramp up to a newer, even higher level.
In general terms, the entire process was predictable—all roads lead to the municipal boundaries of Orgasm City—but for any given session, other than the knowledge that the trend led ever upwards, nothing was predictable.
And then... just as Charlie knew she was about to cum... the damn thing would back off ... and wait... then start building again. And finally, when there was no way in the world that Charlie was NOT about to cum... it would stop!
Panting and heaving for breath, all Charlie could do was suffer. That, and accept Adele's naked, bound, and ball- and tape-gagged sympathy. Lashed to her wheelchair with conditioned hemp rope, all Adele could do was watch her friend's ordeal.
Charlie did her very best to ignore what the machine was doing to her, but it was impossible. She was now glowing like crazy, meaning she was dripping with sweat, and her skin was flushed pink. She squirmed in her inescapable bonds, moaned weakly through her mouth-filling but breathable gag, and shuddered as the saddle worked its evil, wonderful magic... again... and again... and again.
Eventually, whether the machine was actively teasing her or if she was being allowed to "rest," Charlie found herself drifting in an aroused state she could only call... horn-dog. She was a horn-dog. She really, really wanted to cum. And she couldn't. The diabolical machine wouldn't let her.
Eventually, her fevered mind began to drift. Her eyes gazed at Adele—naked, bound, gagged, beautiful Adele—and her arousal fused with the love she'd felt before. Was it real love? Romantic love? Finally-found-my-soul-mate love? No. Maybe. She had no idea. It was certainly more than sisterly camaraderie in the face of shared adversity. Adele!
Eventually, Charlie found the strength to ignore Dr. B's evil machine—or she reached the end of her strength and surrendered to the diabolical device—and fell into a state of troubled unconsciousness somewhat resembling sleep.
Charlie became aware of her surroundings, but she wasn't fully awake. She thought maybe a needle had pricked the inside of her right arm, but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything. She drifted in and out of unconsciousness.
Charlie was off the saddle-machine and no longer strapped to the frame. She was being carried somewhere... by Dr. B... with Dr. B's breasts pressed against her side... with the crisp white fabric of her lab coat sandwiched between their bodies. Her kidnapper was carrying her in her arms... like a baby... a big, flushed, sweaty baby... down the concrete corridors of her lair.
A liquid was gently squirted into Charlie's mouth, and she drank. It was a fruit drink of some sort, possibly a sports drink, and it was cool and delicious.
Charlie was being bathed. Dr. B was still holding her, and a cool, wet washcloth was being repeatedly dipped in a stainless steel pan of water... then being used to gently swab, scrub, and caress a portion of her skin.
Charlie was still horny... especially when the washcloth reached her hypersensitive pussy. She squirmed, weakly, very weakly in Dr. B's arms, and moaned. The insidious hollow plug-gag was gone, which felt good. The wet, gliding washcloth also felt good, but not good enough. It didn't stay on her thighs and labia long enough to feel sufficiently good. Damn it! The sponge bath continued.
Charlie opened her eyes, again, and found she was in a cell, about ten or fifteen feet on a side, with concrete floors, walls, and ceiling. She was on her back on a mattress on the floor, with her arms raised to either side, her wrists buckled and padlocked in wide, padded cuffs of black leather, and connected by chains to eye-bolts sunk in the floor at the head of the mattress. Her ankles were similarly cuffed and chained to the floor at the foot of the mattress. She was naked, spreadeagled, and helpless. Her hair was a tousled mass, and her lips sealed by yet another wide strip of tape, probably the same Elastoplast Dr. B had used before.
And speaking of Dr. B, the tall, strong, beautiful kidnapper was smiling her usual smile, and unbuttoning her now slightly damp lab coat. She removed the garment, revealing her toned, athletic, naked body. Her brown, or maybe honey-blond, hair was as tousled and loose as Charlie's own, and whatever its hue, it matched the color of the neatly trimmed thicket of pubic hair above her pussy.
Charlie stared at her now naked kidnapper and tugged on her bonds. She drugged me, Charlie realized. I... I... She couldn't concentrate. She was exhausted, and horny from her ordeal on the saddle-machine, and her muscles were sore, and she was horny, and she was glad the jaw-stretching, custom-designed plug-gag had been replaced by tape, and she was horny!
"I think you're ready," Dr. B purred as she straddled Charlie's spreadeagled form, then knelt to either side of her hips and waist, and settled a portion of her weight on the slowly squirming and weakly mewling captive. She then leaned forward, took Charlie's head in her hands, and kissed her tape-gagged lips.
"Mrrrpfh!" Charlie continued tugging on her bonds and moaning through her gag as Dr. B nuzzled her neck, licked her right ear and gently tugged on her earlobe with her teeth, then continued down her body, licking her skin and planting kiss after kiss. "Mrrrrrrr!" Now Dr. B was massaging Charlie's left breast, and sucking on her right nipple. "Mrfff!" And now, Dr. B's hands were gliding over Charlie's tummy, and her lips and tongue were exploring her navel.
Dr. B shuffled further down the mattress, released Charlie's ankle chains, then lifted her legs—first the right, and then the left—and attached each ankle cuff to its corresponding wrist cuff. Charlie was now on her back in a full pike, with her legs splayed and her crotch lewdly and completely exposed.
"I can tell you're fully ready," Dr. B purred. "Just look at this cute little pussy, all flushed and pink and wet." She gently spread Charlie's labia with her strong fingers, licked her smiling lips, leaned close, and gently dragged her tongue across the glistening folds.
"Mrrrrrrrrf!" Charlie clenched her eyes shut and went rigid in her bonds, every muscle firm and frozen, then screamed through her gag. Dr. B licked and sucked and teased her clitoris with the tip of her tongue, and thrust her tongue into Charlie's shining pussy, and it went on and on and—
Charlie went rigid, again, her eyes popped wide, and she finally, finally crossed the threshold into orgasm! And it was glorious, wonderful, and profound! And... And...
Dr. B smiled. Her latest captive conquest was unconscious. Well, she thought as she licked her lips, that was fast, but hardly surprising. The poor little thing was wound up like a spring. She carefully climbed to her feet—not that an earthquake would have disturbed Charlie's satiated slumber at that point—then released the captive's ankle cuffs, lowered her legs, and restored Charlie to her former loosely spreadeagled condition.
She placed her right index and middle fingers against Charlie's throat for several seconds, measuring her pulse. Satisfied that all was well, she stood, retrieved her lab coat and draped it over her right arm, then padded to the door. She looked back at Charlie's spreadeagled, slumbering form, smiled, and crossed the threshold.
The door closed, the sound of the bolt being thrown and the lock turning sounded, then the lights winked out, plunging the cell and its prisoner into total darkness.
Charlie opened her eyes. She was in the same cell in Dr. B's lair; however, her tape-gag was gone. Her wrist and ankle cuffs were still padlocked in place, but she was no longer spreadeagled on the mattress. Her ankle-cuffs were now connected by eight inches of stout chain, her wrist-cuffs linked together behind her back, and several inches of chain linked the cuffs to the back of a collar buckled and no doubt padlocked around her neck. She felt the familiar nudge of blunt metal studs on either side of her larynx, and surmised the collar was her old friend the voice-stealing shock-collar. Finally, a long chain of the same gauge as the links hobbling her ankles trailed from the back of her collar to an eye-bolt embedded in the wall opposite the door.
Charlie heaved a deep, sad sigh. She didn't consider testing the collar, to see if it was on, or at what level of sensitivity it had been set. I'm a clever little poodle, she thought. I learn my lessons quickly. The chain tethering her to the wall looked long enough to reach almost any part of the cell, but she wasn't motivated to confirm that with an experiment. Charlie squirmed onto her side and heaved another sigh.
I was really out of it, Charlie realized, didn't even notice when Dr. B or Suki—it was probably Suki—changed things. She was hungry and thirsty, especially hungry. She couldn't do anything about food, but cool water was waiting in the little drinking fountain built into the top of the steel commode's reservoir. She lifted her chin and gazed at the waiting fountain, but decided to wait. She was still tired... and sore... and the water could wait. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax, and not worry about Adele.
Charlie thought she might be in the same place their kidnappers had put Adele the night of their capture, then realized she wasn't. The accommodations were the same, but arranged in the mirror image. This was a different cell
Time passed. How much time, Charlie had no idea.
Suddenly, Charlie flinched in her bonds and her eyes popped open. The door bolt had been thrown and the lock was turning. Then, the door opened... and Suki entered the cell. A dimpled (evil) smile on her pixie face, she was dressed in her usual black-on-black Goth attire, and was carrying a stainless steel tray. Without a word she set the tray on the floor about a third of the way between Charlie and the door, turned, and left, closing, bolting, and locking the door behind her.
Charlie heaved herself to the sitting position. On the tray were a dinner plate and a travel cup of translucent plastic with a wide base and a straw protruding from its lid. The plate held a neat arrangement of what appeared to be tiny egg-rolls or mini-burritos. Whatever they were, they looked like food! Charlie had no idea what was in the travel cup, but even water would be welcome. She squirmed and struggled to her feet, hobbled to the tray, dragging her slithering, rattling chain behind her, then settled to her knees.
The plate was white and looked like heavy plastic, not suitable for a bound action-hero to shatter into sharp shards, free herself from her bonds, and either slaughter her kidnappers or tunnel her way to freedom. The probably tasty tidbits were garnished with parsley and lettuce, and no two looked exactly the same. They were finger-food, or in Charlie's case, lip-food. She leaned forward over the plate, selected a nugget at random, and used her lips and tongue to pull it into her mouth. Inside the thin pastry shell was some sort of savory meat, possibly Korean BBQ of some sort, and it was yummy! Hunger is the best sauce, Charlie confirmed as she chewed and swallowed.
The travel cup held some sort of smoothie. That wouldn't have been Charlie's first choice of beverage, but naked prisoners can't be choosers, especially when chained in solitary confinement. Anyway, the smoothie's fruit flavor was subtle and pleasant and its temperature cool. It would do. It would definitely do.
The meal continued, and all the tidbits were different, some meat, some vegetable, and some both, with a variety of sauces and seasonings. Some suggested Asian cuisine, while others were more Latin. All were delicious.
Charlie continued eating until the plate was empty (not counting the garnishes) and the straw started sucking air. Her stomach comfortably full for the first time since her capture, Charlie visited the commode, then hauled herself back to the mattress. An after dinner nap sounded like just the thing.
It occurred to Charlie she didn't know if she'd just eaten dinner, lunch, or breakfast. She didn't have anything like a firm lock on how much time had passed since she met the charming Dr. B and the lovely Suki. Two days, three, even four? The bondage, boinking, and that drug Dr. B had given her complicated matters. At least two, going on three days, she decided. Or not.
Charlie heaved another sigh, squirmed on her side to try and get comfortable, and closed her eyes.
Hours passed... long, boring hours.
Charlie slept, mostly. What else could she do? Sometimes she opened her eyes to find herself in near darkness, the only light coming from a single dim, blue-green bulb overhead. Other times, she awoke in full light. Why the lights were varying and on what schedule she had no idea. Charlie hauled herself from the mattress to drink at the fountain and/or use the commode now and then, but that was the extent of her waking activities.
Neither Suki nor Dr. B disturbed her solitude. No more meals were forthcoming and, slowly, Charlie's hunger returned. She wasn't starving... yet... but she could eat. The problem was, of course, that her kidnappers didn't bring her anything to eat. They didn't even visit to gloat... or do nasty things to her... like kiss her and fondle her and run their hands over her breasts and between her legs and—
Stop it! Charlie silently admonished herself. Stop thinking about it. She heaved a deep sigh. Maybe it was the aftereffect of the drug Dr. B had given her—although enough time had passed that she was sure she would have metabolized it by now—or maybe she was just... bored. Actually, she was sick with fear for Adele, and herself, but she'd felt that way from the moment they were captured. Now it was horribly... routine? Charlie had no idea why her thoughts kept turning to the erotic tortures she'd witnessed and experienced in the hands of their captors... but they did.
Finally, Charlie heard the bolt slide, the lock turn, and the door swung open. Dr. B and Suki entered the cell. Both were smiling their usual gloating, evil, beautiful smiles, and neither one was carrying a tray of food.
Without a word, Suki unlocked Charlie's collar chain—the one tethering her to the wall, not the one linking her wrist cuffs to the back of her shock-collar—then pulled her to her hobbled feet. Next, Dr. B reached into her lab-coat pocket and produced a three-inch by six-inch strip of translucent plastic with a paper backing. She stripped away the paper and plastered the strip over Charlie's lips. Blue eyes locked with Charlie's sad brown eyes, her fingers smoothed what was obviously a totally unnecessary tape-gag, making sure the adhesive had a firm grip on Charlie's lips and the skin of her lower face.
Next thing Charlie knew, Suki had a handful of her hair and they were out the door with Dr. B close behind. Their destination was yet another steel door several hobbled paces down the corridor. There was a pause while Dr. B stepped forward to unbolt and unlock the door. Then, Charlie was across the threshold and found herself in a somewhat smaller cell. Centered under a bank of spotlights was a frame of some sort, two vertical steel posts embedded in the floor about three feet apart. A leather-padded, horizontal steel bar stretched from post to post. Clamps suggested the height of the cross-beam could be adjusted, and at the moment it was at about three feet above the floor.
Also in the chamber were a sink, a rack of towels, a steel bucket, and a rolling stand with a blunt plastic probe attached to a coiled hose and—Charlie's eyes popped wide and she almost, but not quite, screamed through her tape gag and earned herself an electric shock—an enema bag!
Charlie tried to resist, but in short order she found herself bent over the padded cross-beam with her legs spread and ankle cuffs attached to the base of the posts. Also, a taut chain linked the front of her shock-collar to an eye-bolt sunk in the floor, preventing her from lifting herself off the bar.
What followed was both humiliating, distressing, and messy, but Suki completed the operation with the professionalism of a trained practical nurse. Finally, Charlie's nether region was cleansed with a wet washcloth and she was released from the bar. She had time for a thoroughly angry and resentful glare at Dr. B, then Suki had her by the hair, again, and they were out the door.
Another hobbled journey followed. They passed door after door, made a right turn, and Charlie was led towards an extra-wide steel door, directly ahead. Again, Dr. B stepped forward to unlock the door and Suki led Charlie across the threshold.
The chamber beyond was large, larger than the cell in which Charlie had spent the last several hours. It was mostly in darkness, but bathed by the light of several spotlights in the center of the chamber was a stainless steel table. It was a table exactly like what one might find in a morgue, and lying on her back on the table was Adele. She was naked, of course, with her arms at her sides and her legs together. A padded block supported her head. Her eyes were closed and she was perfectly still, unmoving.
Dr. B strolled to the far side of the table, leaned forward to rest her hands on its steel edge, and smiled at Charlie. "Don't worry, Twinkle-toes," she purred. "I don't do recreational autopsies. Your friend is fine." She smiled down at Adele's unmoving form. "I gave her a generous dose of the same drug I used to make Gail Tarkington compliant so I could hogtie her, remember?"
She reached out, cupped Adele's right breast and gave it a gentle squeeze, then toyed with the nipple. "Do you see?" she continued. "Her circulation is unimpaired. Watch, the nipple turns pale when I give it a nice pinch." She did just that. "Then, turns nice and pink, again, when the blood flow returns. She's completely paralyzed from head to toe, but fully conscious."
Her smile broadened as she gazed at Charlie. "She can feel everything. Pain, pleasure, everything, but she can't move. Isn't that fun?"
Meanwhile, Suki had unclipped the end of a chain diagonally dangling from the ceiling, carried it over, and clipped it to the back of Charlie's collar. She then returned to the wall and turned the hand-crank of a winch. The winch turned, chain rattled onto its drum, and Charlie found herself standing in place with the now vertical chain linking her collar to a pulley overhead. Her feet were flat on the concrete floor, but she wasn't going anywhere.
Dr. B's smiling gaze returned to Adele's naked, still, exquisite form. "Time to begin the endgame," she announced. "It will take some time to prepare Ms. Dazeem, and I intend to take my time and savor the process."
Suki embraced Charlie from the side and snuggled close. "And you get to watch, Twinkle-toes," she whispered in Charlie's ear.