It Just HappenedChapter 8 Four women different motives
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WillowChapter 8 free porn video
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It was called the Rose House for a good reason. There were extensive rose gardens all around the house. Each had a theme and a purpose. The front was a cheerful series of terraced beds that welcomed and comforted those arriving. It was, as it were, the public face of Rose house. The two along the sides of the house were exotic in variety of plants and how they were presented. They were outdoor, long-term experiments in design and presentation.
The back courtyard and garden of the house was different. This was where the master of the house spent most of his time and this garden was much larger. Roses dominated, but other varieties of plants were also present. However the garden did have a theme. Almost every plant had thorns.
The back garden had a number of fountains, alcoves and structures that were almost secret places unto themselves. They were decorated in different styles and nicely landscaped. But unlike most gardens where such places were quiet retreats to think or read, these were retreats into darkness.
Willow was kneeling on a marble bench. She was not bound but was wearing a head harness with a penis gag. Page had given her very specific instructions about how she was to comport herself. Willow was not to get off the bench or make a sound unless she felt Page was in physical danger of harm or death. She was to watch and to learn. Willow was not sure what she was supposed to learn, but she would try.
She had been kneeling for more than an hour and her knees were hurting. She might have thought to complain, but the gag prevented her from speaking. Also her sore knees were nothing compared to what she was witnessing.
Lord Blackmon had made billions in the high tech industry. He was a genius with a "Double E," (a degree in electrical engineering). However that was not his only talent or interest. He also loved things mechanical, especially primitive machines. He could stare at a windmill or waterwheel for hours thinking about how it had been made or what the earlier versions of those machines must have looked like.
When he was given Carol and Page, he had turned his whimsy in a much darker direction. He set out to devise a series of devices that would allow him to confine, stimulate, or torture his slaves without one wire, motor or battery. Much of what was found in the back garden was devoted to those activities.
Page had opened the first envelope in the box Lord Blackmon had sent from New Zealand. It had specified that Page was to ride The Wall until released. It specified that Willow would be her safety but that she was not to interfere unless necessary to protect Page's life. The Wall was painful, but not deadly. Page was not surprised. Lord Blackmon was very proud of The Wall.
Willow watched as Page began to be stretched upwards again. Willow could see that Page was covered in sweat and that her beautiful ass clinched and unclenched with exertion. She could hear Page moan and then yelp with pain. In the background Willow could hear the deep rumble of water falling into the metal tub.
The Wall was just a brick wall about twelve feet high and framed by heavy, rough sawn beams. The bricks had been recovered and reused from an old schoolhouse in the goldmine area of Northern California. They were weathered, rough, not uniform in size and had been laid with a very slight curve outward from bottom to top.
Page's hands were cuffed with leather cuffs connected together by a chain twelve inches long. Her feet where cuffed to a spreader bar eighteen inches wide. She was, of course, naked except for long leather opera gloves and a leather hood. She was standing against and facing the brick wall. The chain between her hands was connected to a rope that went up the wall to a pulley.
Blackmon had been inspired by a device used to wash camera film. The device was a tank that was slowly filled from a faucet. When the water reached near the top, a syphon pipe would empty the tank, flushing the tank clean and allowing the cycle to begin again.
In Blackmon's version the tank was much bigger. Water from a copper pipe slowly filled a beautiful copper tub. The tub was suspended by a rope and pulleys, the same rope that was attached to Page's hands. A cubic meter of water weighs about a ton, more than enough force to pull a person off the ground. A metal ring and stop prevent them from coming off the ground more than two feet.
As the water filled the copper tub, Page's hands were slowly pulled upwards. As more water collected in the tub, Page was slowly pulled up off the ground and up the brick wall. The point of most frequent contact was her breasts and nipples, but it also touched her stomach, hips and knees. The brick scrapped and scratched her sensitive skin. Page screamed and rocked back and forth, trying to "walk" her tits up the wall. She also tried to get some purchase with her feet. As the rope hit the stop ring, all of Pages weigh was on her hands. Now any movement added to her discomfort.
Page hung there whimpering. This was the ninth trip up the wall in the hour she had been there. The pressure on her joints was like being on a rack that was tightened then loosened repeatedly. Her head, covered in the leather hood to protect her face from scratches, hung back with exhaustion.
Her skin was not torn, the lube she had covered herself with before beginning had prevented serious damage. But The Wall made her skin feel like she was getting a very slow and severe case of road rash in some very delicate places. The pressure on her raw nipples as she hung there was agony.
After a few minutes the water in the copper tub got to the top of the syphon. The water began rushing out twice as fast as it was going in. Soon Page started her journey back down the wall. This was just a painful as going up as her skin was being scrapped in the opposite direction. When her feet reached the ground, she could finally get some relief by pushing off the wall with her elbows, which were protected by the calf skin opera gloves. But despite being no longer under tension, her body was still forced against the wall. The "ground" was really a board twelve inches wide sloped inward.
She looked up to examine the timer. It, like everything else about this torture device, did not rely upon electronics. The rope connected to her hands was connected in turn to a rope frozen in a large chunk of ice held in a metal shell. When the ice melted, the rope would release and Page could retrieve the keys to the locks on her cuffs, (they were hanging on a brass hook at the end of The Wall) and free herself. In the meantime the dripping water provided both a few drops to drink and an annoying dripping on her hood, back and shoulders. Once before when she was riding The Wall, the rope had released while she was suspended. That had been very bad.
The timer served a number of purposes. One was that The Wall and other forms of restraint could be used without another person being there to release the slave. It also kept the slaves from influencing how long a punishment or torture would last. No amount of begging or screaming could make the ice melt faster. There was also the uncertainty of the time. How long the ice took to melt depended on the surrounding temperature and how the rope had frozen in the device.
When Lord Blackmon built The Wall, he had done a number of test runs. That was how they learned that the lube, hood and gloves were good ideas. After the first long test run, Carol's skinned up tits and elbows took three weeks to heal. He had asked her what is was like and Carol had described it as being very slowly whipped by a sandpaper flogger. Page once had ridden The Wall right after being flogged and caned. She had ridden it facing out with her whipped back and ass against the brick. It had been a long journey of pain.
Just as Page felt the tension begin lifting her hands again, the timer rope pulled free. It was over. She rested for a minute with her head against the brick.
Page had to shuffle over to the end of The Wall, scrapping her breasts sideways as she went, to retrieve the key. After a few moments of awkward struggle she managed to free her hands and feet. She stepped away from wall, took off the hood and gloves, then walked slowly over to where Willow was kneeling. Page then lowered herself and knelt, face to the ground and arms extended.
Willow did not know what to do. She watched as Page remained like that for some minutes. The whole scene had been shocking. Watching Page dragged up and down the wall, screaming at times, had been horrible. But what now?
After a several minutes, Page sat back on her heals and looked Willow in the eye. Willow could see that Page had been sobbing, tears still running down her face. She could also see Page's breasts, normally flawless and beautiful, were now red and angry from the abuse. Vertical red lines were scored into the skin and one small trickle of blood wept from a deep scratch on her left nipple. Her stomach, hips and knees were also scrapped raw.
But as Willow watched, Page composed her face and posture. She then said something that shocked Willow more than the recent scene of torture.
"Thank you my lord for giving this slave a chance to serve again."
Willow had no doubt about Page's deep sincerity.
Page unfastened Willow's harness gag and removed it. Willow worked her jaw and swallowed as she adjusted to not having the rubber dick in her mouth. She then opened her mouth to ask Page a question, but Page put her finger to her lips indicating that it was not yet time to talk.
Page then spoke, her voice rough from the screaming just a few moments before.
"Slave, there is one more task to complete. Follow me, do exactly what I tell you and don't speak."
Page took Willow's hand and led her over to the area near the French doors that led into the house. Willow had noticed before the heavy post about eight feet tall. There was a smooth curved channel at the top where a rope ran from the back to the front. In the back was a hand cranked winch and in the front the rope ended with manacles.
Page stepped back to the post and secured the manacles on her own wrists.
"Slave, go behind the post and crank the wench until my arms are high over my head, but no further."
Willow stepped around and did as she was instructed. When she stepped back to the front, she could see Page standing tall with her arms up, but she was not in a strain.
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