Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Before Madame Vesta and Quentin left, Melanie had tremulously begun to lick Khalid's cock... and it was the cane which was sawing menacingly across her clenching nates, not the switch. The room was filled with the sound of heaving sobs.
„How long is a session?“ asked Quentin as Madame Vesta closed the door behind them.
„It varies. Sometimes a girl has to be taken down to the Punishment Room and soundly thrashed. That delays things and, most probably puts her out of the action for the time being. I expect Melanie will be in there for half an hour yet. Miss Lara will put her through her whole routine again... posturing, displaying, proffering breasts, cock licking. Any protest or disobedience and she feels the cane.
„Miss Lara is most beautiful,“ said Quentin.
„You think so? I doubt if Melanie is of the same opinion. She is certainly a good Overser.“ They had arrived at the next iron door and Madame Vesta peered through the grille. „Ah,“ she said, „another stage of training in progress.“
They went in and Quentin was met with a remarkable sight. Four girls were kneeling in a line and each one had a dildo in her mouth, the dildo being attached to some kind of pumping device. Heads, dark and light, were bobbing back and forth energetically. An Overseer strolled up and down the line, a small control panel in her hand.
„This is most excellent training for the future. It strengthens a girl's jaw and endows her with exceptional sucking powers. As you will find, Mr Osman, if you ever want to make use of a mouth.“
„Take more of it in, Diane,“ said the Overseer, tapping one of the bottoms with her switch. „Right to the back of your throat.“ There were choking sounds as the girl obeyed. Just as Melanie's had been, all the buttocks cheeks carried a tracery of thin weals left by the switch.
„Come on, all of you... suck, suck... hard and strong!“ The Overseer smiled at the watchers. „They've been going at it for ten minutes,“ she explained. „Probably getting a bit tired.“
There were slurping sounds and Quentin saw that each pink dildo was slippery with some pink liquid. „I'll finish them off, one at a time,“ said the Overseer. She was a rather plump, motherly looking woman in a red blouse and skirt and wearing ornate looking ankle boots. She stood behind the girl at one end of the line. „Stand by, Janice... see if you can avoid spilling any this time.“ The girl gripped the root of the dildo and went on sucking as avidly as ever. Then the Overseer pressed a button on the control panel and the dildo began to jerk. Obviously it was spurting some liquid down the girl's throat. Eyes wide, she was gulping furiously as she continued to suck. Just a little of the liquid oozed from her mouth, but not much.
Gulp... gulp...
„That's better, Janice, you're getting it down nicely,“ said the Overseer.
Gulp... gulp... snort... snort... guld...
Then it was over. Janice's head slumped and the dildo, now deflated, just as a real penis would have been, slipped from her mouth. She moaned feebly.
„Very like the real thing, which they will all be tackling shortly,“ said Madame Vesta.
„I didn't realise you were so thorough,“ said Quentin.
„One has to be... for the best results,“ came the reply.
The second girl in line was not quite so successful as the first. It was Diane. The dildo slipped out of her mouth before the process was complete and quite a lot of the sticky white liquid aquirted over her face. She twisted away as if it were real sperm and this earned her four stinging cuts from the Overseer.
„Not good enough, Diane,“ rasped the Overseer. „You'd better start making a big improvement... and fast.“ The girl sobbed wretchedly. Hopelessly.
„I think we've seen enough,“ said Madame Vesta, moving to the door. “Thank you, Miss Flora.“
„Always a pleasure, madame,“ smiled the matronly figure.
„And now, I think, we may see the real thing. In the next room.“ She was looking through the next grille. „Ah yes... „ In they went... and now there was a different scene.
There was just one girl on her knees and she was before a rather gross, ugly-looking man seated quite nude on a chair. This, Quentin correctly presumed, was otto the German Trainer. Behind him stood Jason, the second of the black Trainers and he was also nude.
The girl was buxom, big-buttocked, but those buttocks were, as yet, unmarked. She was attending to Otto with an almost frantic kind of zeal, running her open mouth up and down first one side of his solid erection then the other.
„That's it, girlie,“ grinned Otto. „You're improving.“ The girl's head went down and she began kissing and licking Otto's balls fervently. He turned and winked at jason. „I do believe she's beginning to enjoy it,“ he said.
„Could be, man,“ replied the negro. „And why not?“
Frankly, Quentin could think of plenty of reasons why not. What woman could possibly enjoy servicing a gross, pig of a man like Otto in this fashion?
„Stick a dildo up her, Jason... get her eally worked up.“
„Sure thing... „ The negro went to a cupboard and returned with a large pink dildo. He turned a cog at it's base and it began to vibrate powerful and noisily. Jason positioned it between the girl's sex lips, parting them with the bulbous knob.
„Here it comes, Birgit,“ he said. „Aren't you a lucky girl!“ Then he thrust in the dildo with one single movement.... thrust it in to the hilt. The girl's fair head of hair jerked up and back and a strangled cry gurgled in her throat. Grinning more broadly, Otto seized the girl and pushed her down again.
„Get on with it, my beauty,“ he said. Then he placed his hands under the girl and Quentin could see the big, soft breast fruit being mauled. Birgit's mouth was at work again, sliding up and down again from knob to base... and then attending to the big, swinging balls below.
„Cunt starting to get warm, is it, girlie?“ enquired Jason. No coherent reply was forthcoming from the overworked girl.
„Birgit is Danish, remarked Madame Vesta. „One of the bigger girls here.“
„She's certainly got quite an arse on her,“ said Quentin with deliberate crudity.
He watched the lush flesh of that bottom start to quiver and twitch a little... so the dildo was obviously having an effect. Now that it was buried within her, the noise og the buzing had lessened. But it would be vibrating just as vigorously.
„Right,“ said Otto, his wet lips parted a little. „I think we can now get proper down the business.“ He was still mauling the big breasts.
Birgit panting, raised herself up a little and took the root of the solid penis in one hand. Then she slippered the big pink-mauve knob into her mouth and began to suck energically. Otto looked pleased.
„Now you can see the benefit of that earlier training you have just withnessed,“ said Madame Vesta.
„Indeed,“ nodded Quentin. The power of the girl's mouth was very evident.
„Take more in,“ ordered Otto after a couple of minutes. Birgit slit two or three inches of the cock into her mouth, head jerking back and forth.
It was at that moment Quentin saw the buttock flesh begin to quiver and twitch more violently. Whimpering-snorting sounds jetted down Birgit's nostrils and the whole of her hindquarters jerked and juddered.
„She's coming,“ announced Jason.
„Lucky her,“ said otto thickly. His mouth was opening wider, his lips were wet, he was breathing faster. „That's it, my beauty... more... more... suck... suck... „
Birgit, throat working, took as much of the hard cock into her mouth as she could possibly manage and continued to suck as if her life depended on it.
Otto began to pant. His jowls quivered. His eyes were beginning to glaze. The climax, thought Quentin, could not be long delayed. Then he was groaning and dribbling, his haunches jerking spasmodically as he spurted and spurted into the still sucking mouth.
Gulp... gulp... gulp... gulp...
Birgit knew what she had to do. And she did it to perfection. Otto patted her head.
„You've come on nicely, slave,“ he said patronisingly. Temporarily exhausted, Birgit made no coherent answer to this. The cock slipped from her slavering mouth and dangled. Her head dropped in resigned defeat. Inside her, the vibrator continued its energic work. Otto eose from the seat and Jason took his place. He began to fondle the big breasts, just as Otto had done.
„Time for some black meat, white Missie,“ he said, grinning hugely. „I knows you like that better, eh?“ Again, there was no coherent reply from Birgit. Although she had only a couple of minutes to recover, Birgit was given no respite.
„Get to work,“ ordered Jason.
And now Birgit set about pleasuring a black cock instead of a white one. Her fervent zeal did not seem to have lessened one little bit, though she must have been getting rather tired. It was now that all the hours of training helped. It was not long before Jason was brought to full erection and was being sucked. It seemed to Quentin as if his weapon was even larger than that of Otto. And that was saying something!
„Seen enough?“ asked Madame Vesta.
„Yes... I guess so... „ answered Quentin as casually as he could. He had just remembered that young Kim was going to be brought to him when this tour of instection was over. I'll be right ready for her, he thought hotly.
They came to the fourth door.
„Ahhh... „ said madame Vesta, with something like enthusiasm. „anal training.“
They entered the room and Quentin saw a girl laying face down on a curving squab of leather, her wrists secured to the front end of it. At the rear end there was a metal contraption to which was attached some kind of piston-like object which was driving steadily back and forth. By reason of the shape of the squab, the girl's hindquarters were raised high, her thighs held splayed, and the piston-like object was driving in and out of her anus. The girl was groaning almost constantly. Quentin then noted that the penetrating pbject was a dildo, but not one as large as that which had recently been thrust up Birgit.
„This prepares them for beim bum-fucked,“ said Madame Vesta. „It widens them for easier penetration and also acclimatises them to the sensation. I must say, most girls don't take too kindly to anal training... but they get it all the same.“
„I see,“ said Quentin. He went to the front of the squab and saw the girl's pain-distorted features, her cheeks wet with tears. Remorselessly the dildo drove in and out, ever and anon, making the girl shudder convulsively. Quentin thought he heard her saying something and bent closer.
„Mercy... mercy... „ came a weak little voice, „no more... no more... „ It was pathetic, but Quentin was unmoved. A girl had to learn.
Madame Vesta approached. „How long have you been here, Selina?“ she enquired.
Selina, with long silky brown hair and a pretty face (even if distorted) spoke weakly again. „It... it... aaah... s-seems a-ages, M-Madame... „ she answered. „Ohhhh pity me... M-Madame... pity me... make it stop... oh God... make it stop... „
„The duration of your stay on here is entirely up to your Overseer,“ said Madame Vesta callously. At which the girl Selina burst into a fresh flood of tears. „Come to the other end Mr Osman, I want to show you something.“ Quentin moved to where the metal contrivance was, getting a close-up of the piston-driven dildo entering and withdrawing systematically. „You will see,“ went on Madame Vesta, „that below the anal piston is another one. A second dildo can beattached to that and operated so that it enters her cunt. As the anal dildo emerges, the cunt dildo enters. And vice versa. Ingenious isn't it?“
„Most,“ agreed Quentin. He was, indeed quite fascinated by the machine. Selina continued to groan, moan and shudder as it went about its rhytmically work. It must, he reflected, be quite ghastly to be left, secured helpless, in that room, being repeatedly penetrated by a merciless machine. Nobody there to stop it. Nothing to halt it. It just went on and on in a mindless fashion.
Oh Julia... how you are going to enjoy getting an automatic dildo driving in and out of your arsehole!
At that moment, the door opened and Miss Julia came in, still garbed in black leather. She smiled sweetly at Quentin.
„Enjoying your tour of inspection?“ she asked.
„It is most informative,“ he answered rather staidly.
„Yes, I guess so... “
„How long has Selina been on there?“ enquired Madame Vesta.
„An hour,“ said Miss Judith. „So she must be feeling a little sore. I'll give her a squirt.“ The machine was switched off and Selina uttered a loud, long moan of relief. „Don't think she likes it much,“ smiled the Overseer. She returned with a large syringe, presumably containing some kind of soothing ointment, and this she squirted into the girl's anal passage. Again Selina moaned loudly with relief. Her bottom was patted by Miss Judith.
„All over for today,“ she said in an almost jovial tone. „Always try and remember, Selina, that this is getting you ready for the real thing... and that would be far more painful if you hadn't been prepared in this way.“
Those words must have indeed been cold comfort in the girl's ears. They left the room, while Miss Judith was releasing her victim, and made their way along th line of cells. The next proved not to be in use.
„I think we might take a look one or two of the punishing cells,“ said Madame Vesta. „These have occupied by girls who have commited some misdemeanour or other... failed to adequately satisfy a guest and so soon. Also, as I have already told you, an Owner can send instructions for a particular punishment to be carried out on his slave. There are fully trained slaves as well as slaves under training in the cells. Let's take a look.“
Madame Vesta did not bother to look through the grille but unlocked the first cell door she came to. Quentin saw a naked girl fastened in an upright position to a pillar. Over her head, resting on her shoulders was a heavy iron cage. Petrified, bulging eyes gazed imploringly through the close-up bars.
„Probably been talking out of tuen,“ said madame Vesta. „This is a Head Cage with a pear gag. A girl can wear one of these for up to twenty four hours. Not very comfortable, I can assure you.“
Going to the front of the Head Cage, Madame Vesta inserted a small key and a little metal door swung open. To the inside of the little door was attached an iron tube and, on the end of that tube was what looked like a small hand grenade. It was black and wet with saliva. The girl's mouth remained gaping open. It was as if her jaw was locked, which, in fact, it was. Locked open with straining cramp. A great shuddering groan came from that gaping mouth.
„It would seem,“ said Madame Vesta, „that she has been wearing this for eleven hours.“ She pointed to a clock-indicator in full view of the girl, up on the wall. „Still another hour to go.“
The girl's head was shaking from side to side, as if to deny this. The brown eyes, shimmering with tears, were frantic with pleading. A gargling sound came from her throat, presumably an attempt at a verbal plea. Casually, Madame Vesta closed the door and the peargag went in again, to fill the girl's mouth with serrated iron. The eyes seemed to bulge even more, whimpering snorts jetted down tow flaring nostrils.
„makes a girl hold her tongue pretty quickly,“ remarked Madame Vesta as they left the cell. „They start with six hours, then twelve, then eighteen, finally twenty four. Even more, of course, if necessary.“
Into the next cell they went and now a remarkable sight met Quentin's eyes. Another girl was pinioned upright to a pillar but in a quite different fashion. She was roped to it. Yards and yards of rope had been wound tightly round her body, holding her quite immobile. More rope was around her arms which were spread out in crucifix fashion against two crossbeams. Cruellest of all was a rope that ran underneath her, between her thighs. It was knotted at back and front of a rope at the waist and drawn so tight that it cut bitingly deep between the sex-lips. In fact, the rope had more or less disappeared within them.
„A touch of Bondage,“ said Madame Vesta. „Probably ordered by her Master. Correct, slave?“
„Yes, Madame,“ answered the girl, her voice tight. One of the ropes around her neck must have been near to strangling her.
Madame Vesta glanced up at the clock-indicator. „Still over six hours to go,“ she said. Quentin watched a large tear roll down one cheek. Oh the suffering... the incessant suffering!
Then on to another Punishment Cell. Before him, Quentin saw a large wooden weel, with escalator-like steps.
„This is the Treadmill,“ announced Madame Vesta, „not in use at the moment.“ Quentin noted the bar to which a girls wrists could be shackled whist she climbed the never-ending stairs. The was a gauge which recorded the number of turns made and also a clock to record the passing of time. Anyone on the Treadmill would know whether they where ahead to behind their work-load. To the side of the clock hung two instruments of correction... a long thing, like the one Quentin had seen Miss Judith using and a cane about the same weight as the one Miss Lara had employed.
„One more look,“ said Madame Vesta, “let's see if there is anyone on the crank.“
There was. In the next cell, a panting, sweating figure was turning a large metal handle (rather like a bigger version of an old-fashioned starting handle). Naked breasts bounced wildly as did bottom flesh. It was obvious that the handle took quite some turning, yet it was young round at a fairly rapid rate.
„This is a very tiring form of discipline,“ stated Madame Vesta, as if that were not already quite obvious. An indicator on the wall recorded 380 turns. It clicked up every time the crank reached its lowest point.
„How many to go, Jessica?“ enquired Madame Vesta.
„Huh... hhhaaah... huh... „ panted the girl, pausing momentarily. „One... aahhh... one hundred and t-twenty... hhhhaaaa... urrr... „ She began to turn the handle again, weary though she obviously was. Madame Vesta glanced at the clock.
„Only half an hour to do it in, Jessica. You might make it.“ They left the cell to the sound of hoarse panting.
„What happens if she doesn't?“ asked Quentin.
„She gets one stroke of the tawse or cane for every turn-shortfall. And she gets them while she's making up the shortfall. It is a considerable incentive to making the maximum effort.“
Quentin could well understand that!
The cell door closed on a Jessica fast approaching exhaustion. There was a little doubt the girl was going to feel plenty of leather before her stint was done.
„I think,“ said Madame Vesta, „we might take a look at the slave quarters... the cells were the girls are kept when they are not on duty nor undergoing discipline.“
Quentin followed his hostess down a companionway to a lower deck and they came to along passageway with dozens of iron cell doors on either side of it. What a forbidding picture those doors presented, thought Quentin! How many cruelly tormented spirits must lie behind them!
As they turned into the passageway, they caught sight of Miss Lara leading a girl on a collar and chain. By the look of her well-striped bottom and tigh-tops, it must have been Melanie. The girl was moving along on all fours, bottom high in the air, rolling from side to side. A most undignified method of progression! As they gained ground on them, Melanie could be heard sobbing. Several times Miss Lara tugged sharply on the chain. Once again Quentin was struck by the fact of how ravishing this coffee-coloured Overseer looked. She moved with a kind of feline grace.
„I imagine Miss Lara is taking Melanie to the Treatment Room. It might be interesting to look in there first.“
„Treatment Room?“ queried Quentin.
„Yes,“ nodded Madame Vesta, „we are very lucky to have it. If we did not, the amount of punishment administered here would be quite impossible.“ Quentin had wondered about that. How was it that so many of the slave girls he had seen went about unmarked?
„A noewegian Professor, who is a great friend of mine, has devised a remarkable... one might say, miracolous... system of Quick Healing. It is a combination of special ointment and some rays beyond the ultra-violet. This system removes in twenty four hours, or even less, weals and welts which otherwise would have remained visible for a week or more.“
„Indeed? That is remarkable, I must say. So... Doctor heine's slave Rebecca, for example, whose hindquarters were so pristine white this morning, could well have been punished the previous day?“
„More than likely,“ replied madame Vesta.
„It's almost unbelievable,“ mused Quentin.
„But it is a fact,“ said Madame Vesta.
„A most, most convenied fact.“ agreed Quentin.
Just ahead of them, Miss Lara opened a double pair of iron doors and led Melanie in. They followed and a surprising sight met Quentin's eyes. There were a dozen or more leather-topped tables in the room... black leather... looking rather like massage tables. Six of them were occupied by naked slaves, five of whom lay face down, one face up. Each girl was secured at wrists and ankles by means of leather cuffs and short chains. Above each table was a large lamp, beaming down the special rays constantly. They where invisible, like those in a sun-ray parlour. Some of the quick nuttocks, Quentin saw, were covered in a white ointment. On those that were not, he could see pink-red flesh and faint traces of weals.
Miss Lara was securing Melanie down. There were many thin, criss-crossing switch weals and a dozen or so of the heavier weals left by the cane.
„I should think,“ said Madame Vesta, „twelve hours should be sufficient to clear this little lot up. Two sessions of six hours each, eh Miss Lara?“
„That should do it,“ smiled the Overseer. She picked up a large jar and dipped in her hand. It came up carrying a big dollop of white ointment. This she smeared liberally over Melanie's flinching buttocks and thigh-tops. The girl began to gasp and cry out, twisting and turning. „It stings a bit when it's first put on,“ explained Miss Lara, „but eases up after a few inutes.“ She switched on the overhead ray lamp. „Soon have you as good as new, Melanie,“ she said, giving the girl's sticky bottom a proprietorial pat. She cleaned her hand with a cloth and strolled over to the table on which a girl lay face up. Quentin noted traces of weals over the upthrusting orbs. There seemed to be a lot of them.
„Tits feeling less tender, Magda?“ enquired the Overseer.
„Y-Yes,... Miss... „ came a whispered answer. Though she was lying down, the girl seemed to cringe under the Overseer's dominating gaze. There was fear and dread in the light brown eyes.
„Her Master,“ said Miss Lara, turning to Quentin, „instructed that Magda receive a breast caning. Eighteen strokes. It was I who carried out his instructions.“ Miss Lara smiled sadistically down at the helpless girl. „Magda and her Master are both polish,“ continued the Overseer. „A rather though race. Magda's Master has not yet paid her a visit yet, though I think the day may not be far off.“ She smiled again. „I have a feeling he may wish to cane those tits himself.“ Magda's eyes filled with unshed tears as they moved on.
They came to a big-buttocked girl on the next table. The bottom was mottled all over in a pink-red colour, with thin flecks of the same colours running in all directions...
„This was a more serious case,“ said Madame Vesta. „Hildegard here has, so far, had forty eight hours of treatment. Another twenty four should see her right again. You see, Mr Osman, her Owner ordered that she receive twenty four strokes of the birch which, as you can doubtless imagine, is severe punishment indeed. When Hildegard first went down on this table, the whole of her backside looked like a huge piece of raw steak. An unpleasant sight. However, Hildegard's owner asked that not only the flogging be put on video tape but also the final result of it. In close-up. That tape has been sent off to him and I imagine he will be satisfied.“
Twelve hours before, Quentin would have been quite incredulous but now, after all he had seen and heard aboard the `Paradise´ he accepted the statement without feelings of disbelief. Almost as if it were something normal. What had once seemed monstrous acts were fast becoming simple maters of fact.
„I am impressed,“ said Quentin as the trio left the Treatment Room.
„Yes, it is a remarkable achievement on the part of the Professor. If it could be revealed to the world, it would probably earn him a Nobel prize.“
Miss Lara laughed and Quentin found himself grinning. It was the nearest he had ever heard to Madame Vesta making a joke. She herself, however was neighter smiling nor laughing. Quentin realised she must be serious.
„Miss Lara,“ she asked, „do you happen to remember Melissa's cell number?“
„Forty four, Madame,“ came the answer. She gave a little wave and moved off down the passageway. Possibly, reflected Quentin, some newly arrived slave girl was, at that moment, trembling with dread as she awayted Miss Lara's arrival.
„I think we will visit Melissa,“ said Madame Vesta, „since, from what I have heard, she a similar type to your Julia. Certainly she had the same kind of temperament when she first came here. That, however, has changed considerably.“
They stopped outside a door with number 44 on it.
Madame Vesta unlocked it with a Master key which dangled permanently from her belt!
„How long is a session?“ asked Quentin as Madame Vesta closed the door behind them.
„It varies. Sometimes a girl has to be taken down to the Punishment Room and soundly thrashed. That delays things and, most probably puts her out of the action for the time being. I expect Melanie will be in there for half an hour yet. Miss Lara will put her through her whole routine again... posturing, displaying, proffering breasts, cock licking. Any protest or disobedience and she feels the cane.
„Miss Lara is most beautiful,“ said Quentin.
„You think so? I doubt if Melanie is of the same opinion. She is certainly a good Overser.“ They had arrived at the next iron door and Madame Vesta peered through the grille. „Ah,“ she said, „another stage of training in progress.“
They went in and Quentin was met with a remarkable sight. Four girls were kneeling in a line and each one had a dildo in her mouth, the dildo being attached to some kind of pumping device. Heads, dark and light, were bobbing back and forth energetically. An Overseer strolled up and down the line, a small control panel in her hand.
„This is most excellent training for the future. It strengthens a girl's jaw and endows her with exceptional sucking powers. As you will find, Mr Osman, if you ever want to make use of a mouth.“
„Take more of it in, Diane,“ said the Overseer, tapping one of the bottoms with her switch. „Right to the back of your throat.“ There were choking sounds as the girl obeyed. Just as Melanie's had been, all the buttocks cheeks carried a tracery of thin weals left by the switch.
„Come on, all of you... suck, suck... hard and strong!“ The Overseer smiled at the watchers. „They've been going at it for ten minutes,“ she explained. „Probably getting a bit tired.“
There were slurping sounds and Quentin saw that each pink dildo was slippery with some pink liquid. „I'll finish them off, one at a time,“ said the Overseer. She was a rather plump, motherly looking woman in a red blouse and skirt and wearing ornate looking ankle boots. She stood behind the girl at one end of the line. „Stand by, Janice... see if you can avoid spilling any this time.“ The girl gripped the root of the dildo and went on sucking as avidly as ever. Then the Overseer pressed a button on the control panel and the dildo began to jerk. Obviously it was spurting some liquid down the girl's throat. Eyes wide, she was gulping furiously as she continued to suck. Just a little of the liquid oozed from her mouth, but not much.
Gulp... gulp...
„That's better, Janice, you're getting it down nicely,“ said the Overseer.
Gulp... gulp... snort... snort... guld...
Then it was over. Janice's head slumped and the dildo, now deflated, just as a real penis would have been, slipped from her mouth. She moaned feebly.
„Very like the real thing, which they will all be tackling shortly,“ said Madame Vesta.
„I didn't realise you were so thorough,“ said Quentin.
„One has to be... for the best results,“ came the reply.
The second girl in line was not quite so successful as the first. It was Diane. The dildo slipped out of her mouth before the process was complete and quite a lot of the sticky white liquid aquirted over her face. She twisted away as if it were real sperm and this earned her four stinging cuts from the Overseer.
„Not good enough, Diane,“ rasped the Overseer. „You'd better start making a big improvement... and fast.“ The girl sobbed wretchedly. Hopelessly.
„I think we've seen enough,“ said Madame Vesta, moving to the door. “Thank you, Miss Flora.“
„Always a pleasure, madame,“ smiled the matronly figure.
„And now, I think, we may see the real thing. In the next room.“ She was looking through the next grille. „Ah yes... „ In they went... and now there was a different scene.
There was just one girl on her knees and she was before a rather gross, ugly-looking man seated quite nude on a chair. This, Quentin correctly presumed, was otto the German Trainer. Behind him stood Jason, the second of the black Trainers and he was also nude.
The girl was buxom, big-buttocked, but those buttocks were, as yet, unmarked. She was attending to Otto with an almost frantic kind of zeal, running her open mouth up and down first one side of his solid erection then the other.
„That's it, girlie,“ grinned Otto. „You're improving.“ The girl's head went down and she began kissing and licking Otto's balls fervently. He turned and winked at jason. „I do believe she's beginning to enjoy it,“ he said.
„Could be, man,“ replied the negro. „And why not?“
Frankly, Quentin could think of plenty of reasons why not. What woman could possibly enjoy servicing a gross, pig of a man like Otto in this fashion?
„Stick a dildo up her, Jason... get her eally worked up.“
„Sure thing... „ The negro went to a cupboard and returned with a large pink dildo. He turned a cog at it's base and it began to vibrate powerful and noisily. Jason positioned it between the girl's sex lips, parting them with the bulbous knob.
„Here it comes, Birgit,“ he said. „Aren't you a lucky girl!“ Then he thrust in the dildo with one single movement.... thrust it in to the hilt. The girl's fair head of hair jerked up and back and a strangled cry gurgled in her throat. Grinning more broadly, Otto seized the girl and pushed her down again.
„Get on with it, my beauty,“ he said. Then he placed his hands under the girl and Quentin could see the big, soft breast fruit being mauled. Birgit's mouth was at work again, sliding up and down again from knob to base... and then attending to the big, swinging balls below.
„Cunt starting to get warm, is it, girlie?“ enquired Jason. No coherent reply was forthcoming from the overworked girl.
„Birgit is Danish, remarked Madame Vesta. „One of the bigger girls here.“
„She's certainly got quite an arse on her,“ said Quentin with deliberate crudity.
He watched the lush flesh of that bottom start to quiver and twitch a little... so the dildo was obviously having an effect. Now that it was buried within her, the noise og the buzing had lessened. But it would be vibrating just as vigorously.
„Right,“ said Otto, his wet lips parted a little. „I think we can now get proper down the business.“ He was still mauling the big breasts.
Birgit panting, raised herself up a little and took the root of the solid penis in one hand. Then she slippered the big pink-mauve knob into her mouth and began to suck energically. Otto looked pleased.
„Now you can see the benefit of that earlier training you have just withnessed,“ said Madame Vesta.
„Indeed,“ nodded Quentin. The power of the girl's mouth was very evident.
„Take more in,“ ordered Otto after a couple of minutes. Birgit slit two or three inches of the cock into her mouth, head jerking back and forth.
It was at that moment Quentin saw the buttock flesh begin to quiver and twitch more violently. Whimpering-snorting sounds jetted down Birgit's nostrils and the whole of her hindquarters jerked and juddered.
„She's coming,“ announced Jason.
„Lucky her,“ said otto thickly. His mouth was opening wider, his lips were wet, he was breathing faster. „That's it, my beauty... more... more... suck... suck... „
Birgit, throat working, took as much of the hard cock into her mouth as she could possibly manage and continued to suck as if her life depended on it.
Otto began to pant. His jowls quivered. His eyes were beginning to glaze. The climax, thought Quentin, could not be long delayed. Then he was groaning and dribbling, his haunches jerking spasmodically as he spurted and spurted into the still sucking mouth.
Gulp... gulp... gulp... gulp...
Birgit knew what she had to do. And she did it to perfection. Otto patted her head.
„You've come on nicely, slave,“ he said patronisingly. Temporarily exhausted, Birgit made no coherent answer to this. The cock slipped from her slavering mouth and dangled. Her head dropped in resigned defeat. Inside her, the vibrator continued its energic work. Otto eose from the seat and Jason took his place. He began to fondle the big breasts, just as Otto had done.
„Time for some black meat, white Missie,“ he said, grinning hugely. „I knows you like that better, eh?“ Again, there was no coherent reply from Birgit. Although she had only a couple of minutes to recover, Birgit was given no respite.
„Get to work,“ ordered Jason.
And now Birgit set about pleasuring a black cock instead of a white one. Her fervent zeal did not seem to have lessened one little bit, though she must have been getting rather tired. It was now that all the hours of training helped. It was not long before Jason was brought to full erection and was being sucked. It seemed to Quentin as if his weapon was even larger than that of Otto. And that was saying something!
„Seen enough?“ asked Madame Vesta.
„Yes... I guess so... „ answered Quentin as casually as he could. He had just remembered that young Kim was going to be brought to him when this tour of instection was over. I'll be right ready for her, he thought hotly.
They came to the fourth door.
„Ahhh... „ said madame Vesta, with something like enthusiasm. „anal training.“
They entered the room and Quentin saw a girl laying face down on a curving squab of leather, her wrists secured to the front end of it. At the rear end there was a metal contraption to which was attached some kind of piston-like object which was driving steadily back and forth. By reason of the shape of the squab, the girl's hindquarters were raised high, her thighs held splayed, and the piston-like object was driving in and out of her anus. The girl was groaning almost constantly. Quentin then noted that the penetrating pbject was a dildo, but not one as large as that which had recently been thrust up Birgit.
„This prepares them for beim bum-fucked,“ said Madame Vesta. „It widens them for easier penetration and also acclimatises them to the sensation. I must say, most girls don't take too kindly to anal training... but they get it all the same.“
„I see,“ said Quentin. He went to the front of the squab and saw the girl's pain-distorted features, her cheeks wet with tears. Remorselessly the dildo drove in and out, ever and anon, making the girl shudder convulsively. Quentin thought he heard her saying something and bent closer.
„Mercy... mercy... „ came a weak little voice, „no more... no more... „ It was pathetic, but Quentin was unmoved. A girl had to learn.
Madame Vesta approached. „How long have you been here, Selina?“ she enquired.
Selina, with long silky brown hair and a pretty face (even if distorted) spoke weakly again. „It... it... aaah... s-seems a-ages, M-Madame... „ she answered. „Ohhhh pity me... M-Madame... pity me... make it stop... oh God... make it stop... „
„The duration of your stay on here is entirely up to your Overseer,“ said Madame Vesta callously. At which the girl Selina burst into a fresh flood of tears. „Come to the other end Mr Osman, I want to show you something.“ Quentin moved to where the metal contrivance was, getting a close-up of the piston-driven dildo entering and withdrawing systematically. „You will see,“ went on Madame Vesta, „that below the anal piston is another one. A second dildo can beattached to that and operated so that it enters her cunt. As the anal dildo emerges, the cunt dildo enters. And vice versa. Ingenious isn't it?“
„Most,“ agreed Quentin. He was, indeed quite fascinated by the machine. Selina continued to groan, moan and shudder as it went about its rhytmically work. It must, he reflected, be quite ghastly to be left, secured helpless, in that room, being repeatedly penetrated by a merciless machine. Nobody there to stop it. Nothing to halt it. It just went on and on in a mindless fashion.
Oh Julia... how you are going to enjoy getting an automatic dildo driving in and out of your arsehole!
At that moment, the door opened and Miss Julia came in, still garbed in black leather. She smiled sweetly at Quentin.
„Enjoying your tour of inspection?“ she asked.
„It is most informative,“ he answered rather staidly.
„Yes, I guess so... “
„How long has Selina been on there?“ enquired Madame Vesta.
„An hour,“ said Miss Judith. „So she must be feeling a little sore. I'll give her a squirt.“ The machine was switched off and Selina uttered a loud, long moan of relief. „Don't think she likes it much,“ smiled the Overseer. She returned with a large syringe, presumably containing some kind of soothing ointment, and this she squirted into the girl's anal passage. Again Selina moaned loudly with relief. Her bottom was patted by Miss Judith.
„All over for today,“ she said in an almost jovial tone. „Always try and remember, Selina, that this is getting you ready for the real thing... and that would be far more painful if you hadn't been prepared in this way.“
Those words must have indeed been cold comfort in the girl's ears. They left the room, while Miss Judith was releasing her victim, and made their way along th line of cells. The next proved not to be in use.
„I think we might take a look one or two of the punishing cells,“ said Madame Vesta. „These have occupied by girls who have commited some misdemeanour or other... failed to adequately satisfy a guest and so soon. Also, as I have already told you, an Owner can send instructions for a particular punishment to be carried out on his slave. There are fully trained slaves as well as slaves under training in the cells. Let's take a look.“
Madame Vesta did not bother to look through the grille but unlocked the first cell door she came to. Quentin saw a naked girl fastened in an upright position to a pillar. Over her head, resting on her shoulders was a heavy iron cage. Petrified, bulging eyes gazed imploringly through the close-up bars.
„Probably been talking out of tuen,“ said madame Vesta. „This is a Head Cage with a pear gag. A girl can wear one of these for up to twenty four hours. Not very comfortable, I can assure you.“
Going to the front of the Head Cage, Madame Vesta inserted a small key and a little metal door swung open. To the inside of the little door was attached an iron tube and, on the end of that tube was what looked like a small hand grenade. It was black and wet with saliva. The girl's mouth remained gaping open. It was as if her jaw was locked, which, in fact, it was. Locked open with straining cramp. A great shuddering groan came from that gaping mouth.
„It would seem,“ said Madame Vesta, „that she has been wearing this for eleven hours.“ She pointed to a clock-indicator in full view of the girl, up on the wall. „Still another hour to go.“
The girl's head was shaking from side to side, as if to deny this. The brown eyes, shimmering with tears, were frantic with pleading. A gargling sound came from her throat, presumably an attempt at a verbal plea. Casually, Madame Vesta closed the door and the peargag went in again, to fill the girl's mouth with serrated iron. The eyes seemed to bulge even more, whimpering snorts jetted down tow flaring nostrils.
„makes a girl hold her tongue pretty quickly,“ remarked Madame Vesta as they left the cell. „They start with six hours, then twelve, then eighteen, finally twenty four. Even more, of course, if necessary.“
Into the next cell they went and now a remarkable sight met Quentin's eyes. Another girl was pinioned upright to a pillar but in a quite different fashion. She was roped to it. Yards and yards of rope had been wound tightly round her body, holding her quite immobile. More rope was around her arms which were spread out in crucifix fashion against two crossbeams. Cruellest of all was a rope that ran underneath her, between her thighs. It was knotted at back and front of a rope at the waist and drawn so tight that it cut bitingly deep between the sex-lips. In fact, the rope had more or less disappeared within them.
„A touch of Bondage,“ said Madame Vesta. „Probably ordered by her Master. Correct, slave?“
„Yes, Madame,“ answered the girl, her voice tight. One of the ropes around her neck must have been near to strangling her.
Madame Vesta glanced up at the clock-indicator. „Still over six hours to go,“ she said. Quentin watched a large tear roll down one cheek. Oh the suffering... the incessant suffering!
Then on to another Punishment Cell. Before him, Quentin saw a large wooden weel, with escalator-like steps.
„This is the Treadmill,“ announced Madame Vesta, „not in use at the moment.“ Quentin noted the bar to which a girls wrists could be shackled whist she climbed the never-ending stairs. The was a gauge which recorded the number of turns made and also a clock to record the passing of time. Anyone on the Treadmill would know whether they where ahead to behind their work-load. To the side of the clock hung two instruments of correction... a long thing, like the one Quentin had seen Miss Judith using and a cane about the same weight as the one Miss Lara had employed.
„One more look,“ said Madame Vesta, “let's see if there is anyone on the crank.“
There was. In the next cell, a panting, sweating figure was turning a large metal handle (rather like a bigger version of an old-fashioned starting handle). Naked breasts bounced wildly as did bottom flesh. It was obvious that the handle took quite some turning, yet it was young round at a fairly rapid rate.
„This is a very tiring form of discipline,“ stated Madame Vesta, as if that were not already quite obvious. An indicator on the wall recorded 380 turns. It clicked up every time the crank reached its lowest point.
„How many to go, Jessica?“ enquired Madame Vesta.
„Huh... hhhaaah... huh... „ panted the girl, pausing momentarily. „One... aahhh... one hundred and t-twenty... hhhhaaaa... urrr... „ She began to turn the handle again, weary though she obviously was. Madame Vesta glanced at the clock.
„Only half an hour to do it in, Jessica. You might make it.“ They left the cell to the sound of hoarse panting.
„What happens if she doesn't?“ asked Quentin.
„She gets one stroke of the tawse or cane for every turn-shortfall. And she gets them while she's making up the shortfall. It is a considerable incentive to making the maximum effort.“
Quentin could well understand that!
The cell door closed on a Jessica fast approaching exhaustion. There was a little doubt the girl was going to feel plenty of leather before her stint was done.
„I think,“ said Madame Vesta, „we might take a look at the slave quarters... the cells were the girls are kept when they are not on duty nor undergoing discipline.“
Quentin followed his hostess down a companionway to a lower deck and they came to along passageway with dozens of iron cell doors on either side of it. What a forbidding picture those doors presented, thought Quentin! How many cruelly tormented spirits must lie behind them!
As they turned into the passageway, they caught sight of Miss Lara leading a girl on a collar and chain. By the look of her well-striped bottom and tigh-tops, it must have been Melanie. The girl was moving along on all fours, bottom high in the air, rolling from side to side. A most undignified method of progression! As they gained ground on them, Melanie could be heard sobbing. Several times Miss Lara tugged sharply on the chain. Once again Quentin was struck by the fact of how ravishing this coffee-coloured Overseer looked. She moved with a kind of feline grace.
„I imagine Miss Lara is taking Melanie to the Treatment Room. It might be interesting to look in there first.“
„Treatment Room?“ queried Quentin.
„Yes,“ nodded Madame Vesta, „we are very lucky to have it. If we did not, the amount of punishment administered here would be quite impossible.“ Quentin had wondered about that. How was it that so many of the slave girls he had seen went about unmarked?
„A noewegian Professor, who is a great friend of mine, has devised a remarkable... one might say, miracolous... system of Quick Healing. It is a combination of special ointment and some rays beyond the ultra-violet. This system removes in twenty four hours, or even less, weals and welts which otherwise would have remained visible for a week or more.“
„Indeed? That is remarkable, I must say. So... Doctor heine's slave Rebecca, for example, whose hindquarters were so pristine white this morning, could well have been punished the previous day?“
„More than likely,“ replied madame Vesta.
„It's almost unbelievable,“ mused Quentin.
„But it is a fact,“ said Madame Vesta.
„A most, most convenied fact.“ agreed Quentin.
Just ahead of them, Miss Lara opened a double pair of iron doors and led Melanie in. They followed and a surprising sight met Quentin's eyes. There were a dozen or more leather-topped tables in the room... black leather... looking rather like massage tables. Six of them were occupied by naked slaves, five of whom lay face down, one face up. Each girl was secured at wrists and ankles by means of leather cuffs and short chains. Above each table was a large lamp, beaming down the special rays constantly. They where invisible, like those in a sun-ray parlour. Some of the quick nuttocks, Quentin saw, were covered in a white ointment. On those that were not, he could see pink-red flesh and faint traces of weals.
Miss Lara was securing Melanie down. There were many thin, criss-crossing switch weals and a dozen or so of the heavier weals left by the cane.
„I should think,“ said Madame Vesta, „twelve hours should be sufficient to clear this little lot up. Two sessions of six hours each, eh Miss Lara?“
„That should do it,“ smiled the Overseer. She picked up a large jar and dipped in her hand. It came up carrying a big dollop of white ointment. This she smeared liberally over Melanie's flinching buttocks and thigh-tops. The girl began to gasp and cry out, twisting and turning. „It stings a bit when it's first put on,“ explained Miss Lara, „but eases up after a few inutes.“ She switched on the overhead ray lamp. „Soon have you as good as new, Melanie,“ she said, giving the girl's sticky bottom a proprietorial pat. She cleaned her hand with a cloth and strolled over to the table on which a girl lay face up. Quentin noted traces of weals over the upthrusting orbs. There seemed to be a lot of them.
„Tits feeling less tender, Magda?“ enquired the Overseer.
„Y-Yes,... Miss... „ came a whispered answer. Though she was lying down, the girl seemed to cringe under the Overseer's dominating gaze. There was fear and dread in the light brown eyes.
„Her Master,“ said Miss Lara, turning to Quentin, „instructed that Magda receive a breast caning. Eighteen strokes. It was I who carried out his instructions.“ Miss Lara smiled sadistically down at the helpless girl. „Magda and her Master are both polish,“ continued the Overseer. „A rather though race. Magda's Master has not yet paid her a visit yet, though I think the day may not be far off.“ She smiled again. „I have a feeling he may wish to cane those tits himself.“ Magda's eyes filled with unshed tears as they moved on.
They came to a big-buttocked girl on the next table. The bottom was mottled all over in a pink-red colour, with thin flecks of the same colours running in all directions...
„This was a more serious case,“ said Madame Vesta. „Hildegard here has, so far, had forty eight hours of treatment. Another twenty four should see her right again. You see, Mr Osman, her Owner ordered that she receive twenty four strokes of the birch which, as you can doubtless imagine, is severe punishment indeed. When Hildegard first went down on this table, the whole of her backside looked like a huge piece of raw steak. An unpleasant sight. However, Hildegard's owner asked that not only the flogging be put on video tape but also the final result of it. In close-up. That tape has been sent off to him and I imagine he will be satisfied.“
Twelve hours before, Quentin would have been quite incredulous but now, after all he had seen and heard aboard the `Paradise´ he accepted the statement without feelings of disbelief. Almost as if it were something normal. What had once seemed monstrous acts were fast becoming simple maters of fact.
„I am impressed,“ said Quentin as the trio left the Treatment Room.
„Yes, it is a remarkable achievement on the part of the Professor. If it could be revealed to the world, it would probably earn him a Nobel prize.“
Miss Lara laughed and Quentin found himself grinning. It was the nearest he had ever heard to Madame Vesta making a joke. She herself, however was neighter smiling nor laughing. Quentin realised she must be serious.
„Miss Lara,“ she asked, „do you happen to remember Melissa's cell number?“
„Forty four, Madame,“ came the answer. She gave a little wave and moved off down the passageway. Possibly, reflected Quentin, some newly arrived slave girl was, at that moment, trembling with dread as she awayted Miss Lara's arrival.
„I think we will visit Melissa,“ said Madame Vesta, „since, from what I have heard, she a similar type to your Julia. Certainly she had the same kind of temperament when she first came here. That, however, has changed considerably.“
They stopped outside a door with number 44 on it.
Madame Vesta unlocked it with a Master key which dangled permanently from her belt!
Dottie
- 26.07.2020
- 20
- 0
