[Fiction] Mrs. Wormhill's Summer Slave cont'd.

[TheFloss]

I started this story over 3 years ago, and always meant to finish it, but never really had the time. Still though, I like to finish what I start, and now that a bit more time has presented itself to me, I figured it'd be nice to wrap it up! I've been writing on it a bit every day.

So yeah, probably would make sense to start with the other section first, if you want things to make sense.

I wrote this without having access to the internet, so I wasn't able to reread the old stuff for absolutely perfect continuity (for example, their hands go from being free to behind chained in front of them)- but hopefully it's not anything too distracting.

I'm continuing it over in this section, cause the content does get pretty severe (hopefully not too severe?)

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"No drink for Mr. Parish" repeated Mrs. Wormhill, "that seems dreafully rude to me." She glanced at her guests, who nodded somberly in agreement, and all turned to stare at Kyndall. The nude and manacled girl squirmed slightly under their gaze, obviously tense. I stood as still as possible, not wanting their accusatory stare to shift over to me.

"An act that rude is surely just cause for an apology," Wormhill continued, and once again the other guests nodded. Kyndall stared at them, not entirely sure what to do.

"I'm sorry," she murmered, staring off at the wall.

"Well that was hardly an apology, was it? Those were hardly even words! I didn't believe you were really sorry for a second. Did you?"

The other guests shook their heads and muttered no, no they didn't.

Kyndall could feel the melodrama of the situation on the verge of growing out of hand, and tried again. She stared directly at Mr. Parish, and repeatedly in a loud pronounced voice, "I'm sorry I don't have a drink for you, Mr. Parish"

Wormhill clucked to herself. "Well, I suppose it's a small credit to civilization that you at least tried, but actions speak louder than words and all that; get under the table. Between his legs. Mr. Parish, I'm horrendously sorry to do this at my dinner table, of all places, but I really must teach my slave here a lesson, and if you don't rub their face in it, they never learn, do they?"

"Oh, not at all, rub her face in it," said Mr. Parish, already reaching under the table to unzip his pants. He obviously didn't apply the same negative stigma towards punishing slaves at the table.

Kyndall had been backing up slowly, and finally could no longer control her fear. She started shuffling back towards the kitchen as fast as her hobbled legs could take her. Since we were connected by the chain at our necks, I was pulled along behind.

"Mr. Chaple, if you please," said Wormhill, and the other man stood up from the table. He was surprisingly tall, and in a few steps had overtaken the hobbled girl, grabbed both of her upper arms, and without even taking notice of her struggles began dragging her back towards the table.

"This is rape!" a voice protested, and with a horrified shock that I realized it was mine.

"NO!" yelled Wormheller, with such ferocity that everyone froze. "No not rape. Not at all. Rape would, of course, be if we were to force sex upon this slave- which is, according to our decided moralities, an ethically unobjectionable act, but one which I've chosen not to employ regardless. On the contrary, Kyndall is going to choose to fellate Mr. Parish, after making an informed, intelligent -and might I say empowered- decision, after being educated on the ramifications of deciding not to fulfill her apology to Mr. Parish. Do you understand?"

"That's still the same thing."

"I can see why you might think that, because I can see that you are an imbecile. Do you want to know what the ramifications of not fellating Mr. Parish are? I suspect you might, as you are not wholly irrelevant to the equation."

"What would happen?"

"You loose your balls," Wormhill answered, "It's a quick and surprisingly painless procedure- I've done it before- and with you being shaved- er, plucked- half the work is already done!"

"No! But-" I started, then ducked as Wormhill lazily threw her fork at my head. It missed, but I got the point. I briefly made eye contact with Kyndall, and she nodded at me. While I knew it was a great insult to her, I can't deny I wasn't a bit relieved. The large man began once again to shove her under the table in front of Mr. Parish, and this time she didn't struggle.

"Charlaine, please escort our young slave-in-training back up to his cage. Feel free to use him however you want. I do suggest shortening his hobble. This kid's got some legs," Wormhill said, and handed the thus-far silent woman a key. The woman walked over, eyeing me appraisingly, and unlocked my hobble, re-locking it so my feet were only inches from each other. I'd never be able to walk this way. She then stood up and unlocked my collar from the chain attaching me to Kyndall. She then stared me in the eye.

"Turn around," she said, and I did. I then felt a violent blow to my ass, so powerful I stumbled forward. Or at least tried to stumble. With my feet fastened as they were, I simply fell forward onto the hard floor, banging my knees good, but I was able to catch myself with my hands before my face hit. From on the floor I was able to see under the table, and for a brief moment saw Kindall, kneeling, bare butt on her feet, rocking forwards and back between Mr. Parish's legs. It was a depressing sight, but perhaps, I thought, preferrable to the alternative.

"Now crawl!" The woman above me barked. Bound as I was, I had to slide a bit like a worm, but I found I was able. Wormheller laughed, "I see you haven't changed at all, Charla! Do try not to break him permanently."

As I awkwardly crawled/squirmed out the door, leaving that terrible 'dinner party' behind me, I heard a satisfied sigh from Mr. Parish.

"You are forgiven!"

I had squirmed across the hall to the bottom of the steps, and the woman- Charlaine- hadn't said a thing. Just stared at me as I struggled to make it back to the cage. I wasn't exactly sure what Wormhill had meant by "use him" (although I had some ideas), but from the way she was talking, I figured it was best to try to do what this quiet woman said.

"Stop," she ordered, upon my reaching the base of the steps, "Roll over". I turned over onto my back, half laying half sitting on the cold steps. She leaned down over me, inspecting my feet, my genitals, my chest, my arms, and my face, ending with a quick yank to my hair and a slap on the cheek.

"Well I guess you're pretty enough. I can see why she likes you. I'm going to unlock your feet so we can go up these stairs. You try to run..." She grabbed my balls with one hand, and my dick with the other, squeezing one and twisting the other respectively. I gasped, then the gasp turned into a groan. Since my hands were fastened in front of me, I tried to pull her hands away. In an instant she had changed tactics, and used both her hands to pin mine to my side. She leaned down and got her mouth in my crotch. For a stupid moment I thought she might be about to give me a blowjob- but then I felt her get one of my still-aching balls in her mouth. She closed her teeth slightly, locking it in, and stared at me with a wild look in her eye. Was this woman sex crazed, or just psychotic?

The point was simple enough- it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to bite down, or get it between her molars and just chomp- I just hoped she wouldn't feel the need to drive the point home.

I held as still as possible, even as she began tapping and pressing against my captured testicle with her tongue- her eyes locked with mine the entire time. Eventually her wild stare receeded, and she slowly released me. She unlocked my feet, and I didn't even think about running the entire rest of the way into the cage room.

She shut the door behind her, and looked me over again. I'd heard the phrase "stared at me like I was a piece of meat," but hadn't ever really understood what it meant until that moment. As she slowly approached me, I realized I was nothing but her plaything.

"I'm glad you're shaved. It makes you look so vulnerable. Like a little boy- a helpless, scared little boy. What's that? Are you lost, little boy? Are you frightened? Do you think I will harm you?" The look in her eyes was slowly coming back. She picked up some cuffs from the floor, left over from when I had been secured earlier that morning, and quickly slapped them around my ankles. I could have run, or kicked, but the prospect of what this woman could do to me had frozen those faculties.

"Lay down," she ordered, and I did, "Put your hands over your head," I did that as well. She crouched down, and secured my hands to a plate in the floor. She stood back up, and began to pace around me, still looking me up and down, trying to figure out what to do with me. She finally sat back down by my side and stared at me again, head tilted. She was actually kind of cute, when her face was relaxed.

"You haven't been with many girls, have you?" I shook my head. "Any?" "It depends on-" "Shut up," she cut me off, and reached out with one finger, placing it on my sternum. She drug it slowly down over my belly, then back up, meandering over to my nipple. "Are these sensitive?" she asked, as she started rubbing it lightly. I moaned quietly in response, and she smiled. "I wish the old lady would let me keep you. Maybe she would. I could keep you in a small cage in the backyard- or maybe under my bed, when you were good- and teach you tricks and how to be a real gentleman. How to treat a lady. Maybe I'd even let you wear clothes. At least a tie. Not enough men wear ties."

Without warning she spun around, lifted up her dress, and sat on my face. I sputtered a moment, then realized she hadn't been wearing anything underneath, and her vagina was now resting squarely on my mouth. "Let's see what your tongue can do!" she ordered. I'd never done anything like this before, and had no idea how to start. I stuck my tongue in, and was a bit overwhelmed by the taste. "Good! Right there!" I started probing as much as I was able, and through her little grunts and muscle contractions I was quickly able to figure out what she liked and what she didn't. Eventually I had it down to a rhythm, almost a mechanical thing.

She tweaked my nipples, and I gave another groan. I felt her leaning over (releasing my nose a bit from her ass), and suddenly my dick was in her mouth- but this time there was no threat of teeth. We both worked on each other for a few minutes, her moans getting louder, until I finally heard her tense up. It was only a moment before I orgasmed as well- right in her mouth. I'd never had a blowjob before, and I expected her to spit it out, so I was surprised when she sat up, twirled around, sat back on my chest, and leaned over me, sighing a bit.

"Whew! Did you need that as much as I did?" then she laughed, "Of course you did."

She stayed with me for a few more hours, and the longer the stayed, the more mellow she became. I ate her out a couple more times, then she lay down, resting her head on my belly. She stared at the ceiling in silence for a long time, as if lost in thought. By the time she put me back in the cage (hogtied awkwardly on my side with ropes, balls tied to the bars), and kissed me goodnight, I almost felt as if we were friends. "Good night little slave. Maybe some day I'll come back and show you what sex really is," and she turned out the light and left.

In that moment before sleep found me, I actually found myself smiling. If I had known the horrors Kyndall was going through, I'm sure I would have cried.

[TheFloss]

"Dear dear dear," Wormhill clucked. I opened my eyes to find her staring down at my balls, still bound tightly to the bars of the cage, "And I told her to be careful." I glanced down with a start- my balls were distinctly blue. I gasped.

"Oh, they'll be fine- balls are good at that sort of thing- but this'll hurt like the dickens," she said as she knelt down and started undoing the ropes. She was right. It felt like she was pulling my ballsack clean off- unwrapping the skin. I breathed through my teeth. "You know, Charlaine was quite smitten with you last night. Consider yourself lucky. I've seen what she's done to men she hasn't taken a liking to. You could have ended up worse than Kyndall down there." I suddenly realized I hadn't thought about Kyndall since leaving her down in the kitchen, and I felt a dull ache of concern in my gut. What had they done to her last night? Why hadn't she been brought back up to the cage?

I soon found out.

Hobbled and bound once again (and naked- but I was always naked, now), Wormhill lead me back into the dining room, "You have a long day of work ahead of you, so you need your strength! I've already prepared breakfast. What?" She asked me. I had stopped in my tracks upon entering the dining room.

At first, I thought she was dead.

Kyndall was suspended over the table, hanging from the chandelier. She had been bound and chained into the tightest ball imaginable; legs crossed, arms folded behind her. Even her toes and fingers had been tightly bound to each other. A blindfold rested over her eyes, and an immense ballgag prickling with small spikes was wedged in her mouth. Small clamps were fastened tightly to her everywhere- from her nipples to the inside of her thighs- and drops of dried blood dripped from a few of them. A dildo was shoved up inside her, and an object I didn't recognize was inside her ass. Tears and what appeared to be cum were smeared across her face and hair, and her back and ass were covered with lines that probably came from a whip. It looked like she was still asleep.

"What did you do?" I asked, horrified.

For the first time, I thought I saw Wormhill falter. As if even she was feeling a bit guilty. "We broke out some of the old wine last night, and I suppose we forgot to clean up after ourselves. She's fine. Come on."

Wormhill drug me over to a large wooden chair and shoved me into it. In no time she had affixed the collar to a protrusion on the chair back I had figured was just for decoration. "No she's not fine! She's turning blue!" It was true. Her extremeties were a horrific shade of purple, "You have to take her down."

The look on Wormhill's face changed. "I don't have to do anything. As a matter of fact, I was about to just take her down- but I certainly can't have you thinking you can boss me around. I suppose she'll just have to stay like this until lunch."

Apparently Kyndall hadn't been asleep, because upon hearing the news she screamed into her gag- a horrifying sound. She shook as much as she could, and sobbed.

"Oh hush. Don't blame me. Blame your little friend here," said Wormhill, reaching over and firmly slapping Kyndall's protruding ass before she sulked off to the kitchen.

I sat in the thick straight-backed chair, my collar forcing me to stare directly ahead. The slap had caused the poor girl to spin slightly, and her vagina, splayed wide open from her vulnerable position, and impaled with the dildo, rotated to a rest just a few feet in front of my face. This normally would have been a titilating sight, but now all I could think of were the horrors of Kyndall's unnatural position. I wanted to at least take out the dildo, or the clamps- anything to relieve her discomfort in some small way.

I reached out, but all I could touch were her purple toes. I gave them a little squeeze, and she wiggled them back- groaning a bit at the pain caused by any sort of movement.

Throughout all of this I'd had very little time to think about the practicalities of the situation we found ourselves in. Why did this old lady live on a farm in the middle of no where? Why was her house filled with cages and places to attach chains? Why did she seem to have an unending supply of ropes and cuffs? Glancing up, I noticed the chandeliere was even mounted on a winch, recessed in the ceiling. It was as if the entire house was just a disguise to hide the prison it really was.

Wormhill came back out with some oatmeal, "Eat up! You need your strength. Today we're going to finally get to test out those legs of yours! Those fields aren't going to plough themselves. Wouldn't that be a good trick."

She stared up at Kyndall a moment. "It's really for her own good, you know. The poor girl is terrified of sex. Probably going to die an old maid. I'm just trying to destigmatize it, you know, for her own good."

I was so astounded I spat out the oatmeal. "Destigma- you just- this is the worst stigma ever! Are you insane?" I knew even as I said it that I would be punished- and probably Kyndall as well. I should have kept my mouth shut. But instead Wormhill just looked at me sadly, "You think so?"

I quietly put the oatmeal into my mouth, and tried to think of a way- any way- we could escape from this.

[Ozpossum]

please continue please

[TheFloss]

"You know, I'm a bit envious. Getting to run around on this hot day, naked as a jaybird. Reminds me of when I was a girl- now those are some stories; though I hear if you try to skinny dip these days you're likely to get arrested. Ah well. You're safe here! At Wormhill's place, you can run around starkers to your heart's content."

We were standing in an old barn. I was already fastened into the wooden yoke, with an old horses' bit in my mouth. She spoke innocently enough, but all the while her old hand was stroking my penis. It felt good, but was definitely disturbing, given her age. Reluctantly, I felt myself getting hard, and simultaneously longed for and dreaded any sort of release.

"Oh? Do you like that?" the woman laughed, and grabbed my shaft aggressively, like a playful dog, before going back to stroking. I started twisting a little in my bonds from the feelings coursing through my body. As soon as I was almost fully erect, Wormhill smacked my ass and laughed, "Alright. No more fun- time to get to work!" She slapped my ass a few more times before I got the hint and jumped forward as much as I could (still hobbled, though she had lengthened it slightly), my erection bouncing ahead of me as we entered the ever intensifying morning sun.

She lead me over to another small shed, and with a show of effort slid the old doors open. A few spiders scurried further into the darkness. Sitting in the middle of the shed was an old plough, festooned with straps.

"Stand in front of this. Turn around," she ordered. I did, and she began fastening the straps through loops on the yolk, attaching me to the plough.

"I've seen the way you look at Kyndall," she said abruptly as she worked, "who can blame you. You're both teenagers; young! Hormones racing- and have you seen her posterior? Don't act like you haven't. I've seen you see her buns. Whew! It's a good thing I didn't have those buns when I was younger, or there would have been no stopping me." She stopped and walked around to in front of me, staring quietly for a moment. "Yes indeed, she's a fine looking gal. I suspect most any red-blooded American boy would be tickled pink to have his way with her given half a chance. Oh- not you! Certainly not you! You're an upstanding citizen! You'd never so much as look at a girl without her consent..." her voice trailer off, and she began to tap on the yoke thoughtfully. "I could arrange it, though. Surely that would be worth something... I'm loony enough to do it, too- you both know that. Imagine it- we walk into the guest bedroom, and there she is, bound like a starfish on the bed, big blindfold over her beautiful eyes. Her unkempt hair strewn across the pillows, with a thin sheen of perspiration making her body glisten from her struggles, across her thighs, across her belly, across her breasts," Wormhill gave my nipple a dramatic tweak for emphasis, making me flinch, "Then I say something crazy like, 'Take her, boy, or I'll chop off your leg!', and you refuse, of course- you'd sooner loose your own leg than take this poor girl's virginity. So I threaten to take her leg! And I pull out an actual axe from behind the door. Your quiet gasp lets her know that something is truly awry, and she begins to panic. She hears me approach, and in her fear she yells out for you to take her like the manly stud you are! Well now, that's consent if I've ever heard it. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I stared at the crazy woman, wide eyed, shaking my head, but more erect than ever. Wormhill glanced down, back up, and shrugged.

"Well. The offer stands. If you ever decide to indulge in the finer things in life, all you have to do is knock. A few years, and before you know it she'll be old and wrinkled and saggy. Like me. Now march!"

She gave my ass another swat, and after she tilted the blade of the plough out of the dirt, I slowly began to pull the heavy object forward.

[TheFloss]

The work was insane, like I was trying to plough with a Boeing 777. If the yolk had gone around my waist, that would have been one thing, but as it was, all the pressure was on my neck and arms- and my arms slipped through the holes. Without a place to hold onto, they were almost worthless. This thing can't have ever been meant to be a functional thing- surely it was a joke. Where did Wormhill even get it? She mentioned her husband once. Had they forced other people to plough in this way? Or maybe it was made for one of them? For their crazy sex games?

As I ploughed I tried to design a more efficient design in my head; a chest harness, so that I could actually throw my weight into it when it got caught on a snag. Or, you know, a rototiller.

That said, a little thought had obviously gone into this. The plough itself was unlike anything I'd ever seen; it had some extra weights and some wheels sticking out on either side functioning like outrigged pontoons that kept it upright, so it didn't require somebody to guide it. I'm not sure it really worked as well as the designer would have hoped, but if I worked on keeping it going straight, it went straight enough.

I glanced over at one point to see Wormhill leading a stumbling Kyndall out onto the back lawn, her collar attached to a chain snaking from the kitchen. The girl could barely stand, and kept collapsing mid-stride. Wormhill gently helped her sit down against a cherry tree, and fastened her hands behind her with some cuffs- though since the tree was still young, Kyndall's arms didn't have to wrap far, and it actually looked like an almost comfortable position.

Wormhill went back outside, and Kyndall turned to watch me. I tried to plough as fast as I could, to impress her, but I kept getting snagged on roots or rocks and almost falling over. In a few minutes Wormhill came back out with a wicker basket. She saw me looking towards the house, and waved me over. I stopped and stared at her; with this plough it would take me a good 10 minutes to get over there- and a third of that trip would be straight through her lawn.

"Alright, I'm coming!" Wormhill yelled, and she came over and started undoing my straps. At this point, unhobbled, I considered running for it- even with the yoke on I could probably get away- but before she undid the last strap wrapped a different strap around my balls, and lashed it tight, holding onto the end like a leash. After releasing me from the plough, she tugged on the strap, and I trundled after her.

Upon reaching Kyndall, she had me sit cross-legged, a few feet across from Kyndall, and she tied the strap around my calves tightly and knotted it off, locking me in the sitting position. I finally got to see Kyndall up close. The naked girl was still a wretched sight; rope marks, burns, and bruises crisscrossed her skin in every direction, and her face was still a bit dirty from various bodily fluids- though it looked like Wormhill had wiped her up a bit. The clamps had all been removed, but the small scabs over her body remained. Her nipples were puffed out and red- her bare vagina the same. She wasn't gagged at the moment, but also wasn't saying anything- probably better safe than sorry. She kept rubbing her lips together a bit- they probably felt weird after being forced apart all night.

Wormhill pulled out a blanket from the basket, and spread it on the ground, then began piling up food, dishing up a plate for each of us. I wondered how we were going to eat it, since neither Kyndall's hands were behind the tree, and all of my extremities were likewise indisposed.

"You know you're going to prison, right?" I asked Wormhill abruptly.

"Oh, yes, of course," replied Wormhill, "but not immediately. I should have enough time to wrap up all my affairs."

"What affairs?"

"Watermelon!" she cried, as she pulled a tupperware container out of the wicker basket. She opened it, and it was, as advertised, full of watermelon. She scooted over and gave me a bite, which I consumed readily. Kyndall glanced towards it hungrily. I wouldn't have been surprised if she hadn't eaten in 24 hours. Wormhill made some sort of wacked out airplane noise, and flew the watermelon piece into Kyndall's mouth forcefully. Kyndal tried to chew it as well as she could, but a lot of the juice splashed down onto her chest. Wormhill glanced at it.

"What do you think of her breasts, slave?" Wormhill asked, looking towards me, "I happen to find them a bit underwhelming, myself," she continued. I knew I was blushing, and Kyndall appeared to be too, though she continued looking at the ground. Wormhill reached out and began to slowly rub the watermelon juice around on Kyndall's breasts. "I've actually heard that it's possible to bind breasts. Just wrap the rope around as much of them as possible until they pop out like- well, melons. Although I'm not even sure she has enough here to do that." She took a few grabs at the mounds of curved flesh on Kyndall's chest, trying to see how squishable they were, and Kyndall pulled absent-mindedly at her cuffs. "Maybe if we did that for long enough, she would end up with larger breasts. What do you think?"

I mumbled something. "What was that? I couldn't hear you," Wormhill said.

"I think they're perfect," I repeated, and Wormhill cackled.

"Perfect? Oh you do, do you? Bet you'd love to suck on those tits!"

"They're nice ti- they're nice," I muttered. Wormhill was definitely trying to get me to say something, or start something, but I had no idea what it was.

I looked at Kyndall's face. She was doing her best to pretend none of this was happening. Wormhill suddenly clapped her hands, "Oh! I almost forgot! Could one of you go get the lemonade from the icebox?" She stared at us expectantly, then blinked, "Oh. No. I suppose you can't."

After Wormhill had gone in and shut the kitchen door, I whispered, "Look around, there has to be something we can use to get free, here," though even as I said it, I knew it was hopeless. I was forced in a sitting position, my hands locked up by my shoulders, and Kyndall was fastened against a tree. Kyndall ignored me. I think she was reasoning that hope was more emotionally exhausting than it was worth.

Neither of us speak again for the rest of the meal. Wormhill comes back, slowly feeds both of us our lunch, then re-attaches me to the plough. Then she sits down next to Kyndall and watches me.

[TheFloss]

I'm the first to admit that this isn't exactly the best writing I've ever done (feeling way too lazy to figure out nice character arcs, or even maintain good continuity), but it's fun writing these every once in a while, so I think I'll keep going.

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The next morning we were awakened by an agitated Wormhill. She burst in the door and started clapping.

"Up! Up! There's not much time!"

Kyndall and I stiffly tried to sit up in our cage. We had found a slightly more efficient way of dividingthe space than we had that first night; both of us now day in opposite directions, on our sides in the fetal position, our heads both resting on the other's thighs. It wasn't ideal, but it was probably the most comfortable we could be in a space that small. From down here I would occasionally get a brief whiff of Kyndall's scent. I had gotten to wash off last night, since I had ploughed the dirt nude the entire day, but since Kyndall had been needed to prepare dinner. She still wore some stains and small scabs from her previous night's treatment.

"UP!" Wormhill cried again, and tossed some cuffs into the cage- the usual handcuffs and ankle cuffs, the later separated by about a foot of chain. The night before Wormhill had re-attached the chain between our two collars, so we were already affixed in that regard.

I groggily shook the sleep from my eyes (the sleeping arrangements weren't exactly ideal for actual rest), and was rewarded by a sharp slap from Wormhill's ruler. SLAP! SLAP SLAP! Kyndall already had her ankle cuffs on, and was reaching around to affix her hands behind herself-

"No no, in front of you this time," Wormhill corrected hurriedly. Kyndall affixed her wrists in front of her, and I quickly followed suit.

Once we were locked up, Wormhill opened the cage and instantly began slapping our butts with her ruler, "Go! Out the door!"

She ushered us into the hall and down the stairs, leading us straight out into the back yard.

"I have some more company coming, and I'm not sure how they'd take to your current condition. Not everyone would appreciate the clothing-optional atmosphere I've tried to encourage here." I wanted to point out that our nudity was actually one of the more minor attrocities being committed at the moment, but held my tongue.

Wormhill lead us to the shed that held the plough I'd been attached to for most of the day yesterday. She pulled open the doors and pushed us in.

She pulled a chain through both of our cuffs, and tossed it over a low-hanging rafter, and pulled it as tight as she could. As it tightened, Kyndall's and my arms were raised up in front of us, then high over our heads, pulling us together, chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Once we were standing on tip-toe, Wormhill locked it off with a lock from the shelf before clucking to herself, "I really should have made sure I had the key before locking that," then, noticing our horrified expression, "Oh, don't worry. That's why the good lord invented lock cutters. Will you two scream or make a fuss, or do I need to go through the hassle of grabbing some gags from the house?"

Our continued silence was all the answer she needed, "Alright, well you two have fun. If you need anything, don't hesitate to say a goddam word or I'll cut your tongues out."

She slid the door back closed, and we were left alone again.

Sunlight slid in through a few cracks in the wall, and the grimy windows the ran down the side of the shed. It was already sifflingly hot in here, and it was still early morning.

Both bound to the same point on the rafter, Kyndall's eyes were two inches in front of my own, and we momentarily stared at each other.

"Thanks for not being a dick," Kyndall said suddenly. I "hmmm?"'d inquisitively. "I mean, just, through all of this, you've been a pretty alright guy."

"Oh! Well thanks," I said awkwardly, "You've been a pretty alright gal, too."

Kyndall laughed for a quick moment, then we fell into silence again.

"I liked watching you plough yesterday," Kyndall said, "I mean- that makes me sound horrible- but-"

"No no, that's probably the most flattering thing anyone's said to me in years. I... liked having you watch," I muttered, causing Kyndall to laugh again, "If I have to march around naked, it's nice to know that at least someone besides just Wormhill to appreciate it- am I being too honest?"

"No," Kyndall said, "I mean, I guess I feel the same way. If we have to be her prisoners, you're not a bad guy to be a prisoner with. I've known guys- I've known a lot of guys- who would take advantage of a situation like this. I kinda think Wormhill would let you, too. I think she wants us to have 'sexual tension'," she said, then gave another little laugh.

I tried not to think about the fact that my penis was pressed up against her perfectly smooth mound, or that her breasts were pressed into my chest. We had no where to look besides each other's eyes, so I alternated between closing mine, and staring into hers.

Within another minute we had begin to sweat- especially in the places where we were touching. Little rivulets of moisture began running down our bodies.

Within another minute the strain from standing on tip-toe was becoming unbearable. Kyndall bounced a little on her feet, trying to relieve the strain, rubbing herself along my penis in the process. I had become pretty numb to the girl's nudity over the past few days, but this pushed it over the edge, and once it started, there was no stopping it.

"Oh- OH!" Kyndall said, feeling my smallest extremity rise up and press between her legs "Is that my fault?"

"Yes- I mean no- I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry- I'm pretty sure it's normal," Kyndall responded.

"Being pressed up naked against a gorgeous naked girl- yeah."

"Oh shut up- I'm not gorgeous."

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"I think I'd know if I were gorgeous."

"Man, apparently not! Because- I- wow. You're fantastic,"

"No I'm... really?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't"

She slowly pulsed her hips, rubbing gently against me. I closed my eyes, and stifled a moan. I wasn't sure if she was doing it on purpose, or if her muscles were just getting tired.

Or at least, I wasn't sure until she leaned forward the slightest bit and gave me a kiss. It was the first kiss I'd ever gotten from a girl, and I wasn't sure what to do. My heart raced, and I pressed myself gently into her face.

At that moment, I was thinking... maybe this isn't so bad.

[dickface]

i love this story! its not only original but well writen as well. the forbiden romance is great too. i hope you continue and im glad you started posting again. keep it up.

[dickface]

i know im not sopposed to post twice but i hope this story isnt dead cause its really good

[TheFloss]

Hey thanks! Nah, I've just got a big project going on right now- I'll be back in the swing of things super quick!

[dickface]

alright sounds good! cant wait.

[dickface]

so i assume this is dead and over?

[HelloToast]

I sure hope it isn't dead! I was just getting into it!

[TheFloss]

Oh man- apologies for the delay. I'm being unexpectedly tossed around at the whims of my schedule. But! Here's a chunk! And I have a much larger chunk I'll try to get out in a day or two- I just gotta edit it first.

---------

"Well well well!" cut in a voice from the door, as Wormhill slide it open. Our hips immediately ceased their gyrations. "And here I thought Kyndall wasn't into that sort of thing."

Wormhill had never said whether we were allowed to... 'experiment' before, and I wasn't sure if we were about to be punished. I figured the answer was an obvious 'yes' when she pulled out a couple gags.

She ran a finger across my lower back and ass, pulling it up to reveal a drop of sweat hanging from the tip. The hot shed had really done it's work.

"Well, don't let me stop you. But I do have to insist you put these on," She began shoving gags into our mouths- so much for more kissing, "Someone's here looking at the house, and wanted to see the shed. I said that was impossible, of course- but he continued to pry, and eventually I buckled and lay him privy to the information that I had some wild sex game currently in progress out in the shed, and he really didn't want to go out there. To the contrary, he was most intruiged! Assuring me that it was nothing he hadn't already seen before, he was sure, I agreed to let him inspect the shed, but said that it was only polite to inform you two beforehand, which he understood completely. So here I am! Informing you! I assume I have your consent?"

By this point we were both fully gagged, so we just grunted.

"Oh, you two are just so darling I can't even stand it. I'll go bring him in."

At first I was mortified. Someone else was going to see us nude and bound? A random stranger? In this position? But it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps this could be our chance. Wormhill was obviously going to play it off as if this were consensual- she'd probably get away with it too, if I couldn't lose this stupid erection.

We heard Wormhill and the men approaching, "Oh don't worry. They're a bit shy, but also some of the most horrid exhibitionists you've ever seen. They'll be masturbating to the thought of this for weeks!" The man laughed a bit awkwardly, "Well I'm happy to play a part in that!"

They entered.
Kyndall grunted in surprise.
The man gasped.
Wormhill looked concerned.

"You two know each other?" she asked.

"I... wow. I wasn't expecting you to be playing with anyone quite so youthful."

"You two know each other?" Wormhill repeated.

The man approached Kyndall, inspecting her face, "May I touch her?" the man asked.

"We'd be insulted if you didn't," replied Wormhill distractedly, "We have one rule; 'anything but intercourse'. They're just not ready; waiting for marriage and all, you know,"

"Oh yes, of cours-"

"But first I really must insist that you tell me if and how you two know each other."

The man reached up and brushed a bit of hair out of Kyndall's face. She eyed him warily. He eyed her ass. He grabbed her arm and abruptly turned her 180 degrees, so she was facing away from me, and my dick was now pressed into the cleavage of her butt. He looked her front up and down.

"Shaved, nice," he muttered, before continuing, "I was a substitute teacher for over twenty years. Kyndall was one of my later students. She can't be any older than, what, nineteen?" He reached down and caressed her breasts before violently groping them. I felt Kyndall's muscles tense, and she grunted.

"I had no idea she was into kinky shit like this," and hearing that, Kyndall and I began to shake our heads violently, but he ignored us, "If I'd known, I might have done some things... differently." He gave Kyndall's nipple a pinch, then began to twist. She moaned louder and louder into her gag, and tried to take a few steps back, but only pressed into me. He turned to Wormhill.

"Oh you totally have to let me play with you guys today. If I leave now, I'll be haunted forever by questions of what might have been."

Wormhill considered it. "That's melodramatic. What exactly do you have in mind?"

-------

Back in a bit!

[dickface]

i am forever greatful for the return of this story! its def one of my favorites ever. great to see that theres more to come soon as well

[TheFloss]

Thanks for the comments! Yeah, with any luck I'll keep having time to work on this. It looks like I will. I'm kinda feelin' like it jumped the shark, but it has a beginning/middle/end, so I'll keep going till the end.

========

It must have been at least four hours since they'd taken Kyndall inside and left me in the shed. I hadn't eaten all day, and my legs had grown beyond weak. I was now literally hanging by my wrists at this point. Even more pressing than my hunger, however, was the heat. The small shed was an oven, and I was baking inside. Sweat was pouring down my body, and I wasn't sure what was going to hapen if I didn't get out of there soon.

To my relief, I heard the latch on the shed, and the door slid open. I immediately felt cool air rush in. I rotated on my axis to face the man coming in.

"Ah fuck man- I didn't wanna see your junk. Hell, I don't even wanna see you- I just don't want you to die out here in this oven. Here..."

He took some nearby cable and tied it tightly around my slender waist- digging into the skin a bit. Then he took an oil rag and hung it over the cable in front, covering my penis in a dirty makeshift loincloth. For some reason I almost found this more humiliating than just being naked. Did he still think this was voluntary? Consensual? I tried to speak to him through my gag, to get him to unfasten it.

"Oh shut the fuck up, man. I swear, everyone thinks they have something important to say, but no one ever does. Alright, how do we get you down from here..." He fumbled with the chain around the rafter, and got it released using keys he'd evidently recieved from Wormhill. The slack let me lower my arms for the first time in hours, and I gingerly brought them down, only to have him yank on the chain, pulling me towards the door, "Come on you nudist pervert. Let's get you inside. I've got a surprise for you."

He drug me stumbling across the yard back towards Wormhill's massive house. The change in temperature from the high heat was one of the best feelings of my life. "Why would anyone tie up a naked boy?" the guy mused, "That's no fun at all. Their pricks always getting hard, begging for attention. Man, I don't need that shit. Give me a girl all tied up and shaved though, naked and struggling, screaming into their gags and all that- now there's a good use of rope." Truly an illuminated philosophy. Oh wait I mean terrifying.

He lead me in the back door, through the kitchen, and into the dining room. The first thing I saw, expectedly, was Kyndall, tied as tight as ever spread eagled on top of the long table. Compared to the way I'd seen her tied that morning, though, it looked downright cozy, but when she heard us enter she pulled her head up to look at us, her eyes scared. What I hadn't expected to see was Wormhill tied to a chair at the head of the table, likewise gagged, but not quite so effectively. Wormhill was still clothed, but seethed with a terrifying anger. I was shocked.

"Oh, did I mention? Wormhill tried to put an end to my fun with your little girlfriend here, so I had to get her out of the way. We're playing by slightly different rules, now. My rules." He glanced at me to see if I thought that line was too corny, or something, but I was still distracted by Wormheller's state. The winch chain had been lowered to about 3 feet above the table, and the man placed his hands on my ass and shoved me up onto the surface next to Kyndall.

"Stand between her legs and hang your cuffs on the hook." At the end of the winch chain was a giant iron hook, and I apprehensively placed the chain of the cuffs in it. I looked down at Kyndall, still staring at me scared and wide-eyed. With a grind, the winch chain began to raise, lifting first my hands, then me.

Ow- OW! I gasped into my gag, screaming quietly as I was lifted away from the table. The cuffs weren't designed to hold people in this way, and all of my weight was hanging from two small points on my wrists, digging into the harsh edge of the cuffs. I kicked my legs and squirmed- anything to try to get free from the insane pressure on my wrists. With all of my weight on it, there was nothing I could do to get the chain off the hook.

He raised me up to the roof of the vaulted ceiling, a good 10 feet over the top of the table. From up there, I had a birds eye view of everything- but could barely see from the tears in my eyes.

"You can just hang around up there out of the way for a while," the man said in monotone. I sobbed into the gag and kicked my legs a bit more- although not quite as enthusiastically as I had before being raised up to this height. I tried to box off the pain in my mind, "it's just pain. it's just messages from nerve endings. I can ignore it", and I was surprised to find that, in a small way, I could.

"No sex..." the man muttered to himself, "Why would you tie up a girl, and then make a rule of no sex? Makes no sense." He crawled up onto the table, and positioned himself on his hands and knees over Kyndall. He caressed her cheek gently, and she turned away with a grunt. He lowered his hand, and began to absentmindedly flick her nipples, before rolling over and lying on his back next to her, his head rested on her helpless arm.

"You know, I'm actually not a substitute teacher anymore. I was fired. Do you have any idea how hard it is, being around all those teenage girls, all day every day, and not making a move? I mean, I'm only human. That's what they said to me. They understood, 'only human'. But I didn't even touch the bitch- barely even looked at her." He rolled on his side, and began tracing a finger along Kyndall's flesh, from her face, down her neck, and across her chest, "But she cried, and pointed at me, and described in perfect detail all the horrible inhuman things I'd never done. They couldn't arrest me- no actual evidence- but obviously they couldn't have accused child molestors working for the district. So they let me go. Humiliated before all my family and friends." His finger had worked it's way down to her vagina by this point, and was gently rubbing around on the surface. Kyndall closed her eyes and squirmed, despite herself, until he gave her a hard flick and she flinched.

"So the way I see it, the universe owes me one. But first... there's something I want to try. You can't be a teacher without occasionally wondering if there could be other, less 'correct' methods, that might actually be more effective. You muse about them every once in a while, but never suspect for a moment that you'd be able to try it. This is an interesting opportunity. Shall we have a little experiment? For education?"

He jumped off the table, to Kyndall's relief, and began looking around the room. His eyes fell on Wormhill's ruler. "Oh- perfect!" He swished it over his head and brought it down on Kyndall's smooth belly with a crack. She made a horrible choking sound in surprise.

"Oh hush. I barely touched you. This is going to be an experiment in negative reinforcement, because let's be honest- what else would it be?"

He stepped over to the wall and flipped the switch, lowering me back down towards the table. He stopped it just as my toes were barely able to touch, releasing only some of the agony on my wrists. He jumped back on the table next to me. He reached behind my head and did something I wasn't expecting; he removed the gag.

"Are you insane?" I spat out, "This isn't consensual; she kidnapped us! You have to help us-" With a CRACK he'd whipped the ruler into my thigh

"Whew. You're off to a bad start. You're never gonna be valadictorian if you keep acting up like that. What will your parents say?"

"What? Dude! Sir! This is so illegal. You have to-"

CRACK! He slapped it into my other thigh, and I stumbled.

"I don't have to do anything. A week ago I was on the verge of killing myself from the humiliation. If this is what fate has put into my hands to even the score, I'm going to take it."

"Fate? This was- this is all Wormhill! You're both going to prison."

"The woman? I'll be honest- I kinda figured she had a plan for that."

Wormhill shook her head.

"Hey kid," the man continued, "you want me to strip her naked? I'll be honest, I don't really wanna see those saggy tits- but if you're into that, I'll oblige."

"You're insane! You're insane! Why is everyone completely insane?!"

The man stared at me a while, "You know, I don't think you deserve this." He reached down towards my crotch, and for a moment I thought he was going to try to rip my dick off (a very brief moment), but instead he grabbed the loincloth and pulled it out from the cable still tied around my waist. He dropped the cloth on Kyndall's face, "Enjoy!"

He jumped off the table, and walked over to the winch switch on the wall again.

"No! Please! You have no idea how much it- NO!"

The man grinned as the winch activated, pulling me airborn once again. With no gag to absorb my screeches, I yelled loudly into the kitchen.

"I'm as straight as they come," the man yelled, "but I'll admit, seeing you struggle and yell like that has got me hard as hell."

I did my best to shut up. The man crawled back under me, and sat between Kyndall's legs. She raised her head to look at him, knocking the rag off her face.

"Hello, sweetie. We're gonna test your boyfriend's knowledge of simple multiplication, and you're gonna help. Sound like fun?"

Kyndall shook her head fiercely, and the man laughed, tracing the red mark on her belly with his finger. He took an end of the ruler and placed it against the lips of her vagina, slowly easing it in. Kyndall stiffened.

"SO! The rules are simple! I've stuck the ruler up in her 5 centimeters. For every answer loverboy gets right, I'll pull it out a centimeter. For every answer he gets wrong, I shove it back in a centimeter. If the ruler exits her sweet sweet pussy-of-learnin', you win, and everyone goes home with an A. If, on the other hand, we reach the cervix, I'm gonna fuck her. For educational purposes only. And by 'educational purposes' I mean, 'I want to have sex with this girl'."

Wormhill yelled into her gag. She'd been quiet so far. It dawned on me that she might have actually been fine with the proceedings, as long as they didn't lead to straight up intercourse. I still didn't understand that woman.

"SO! Boy! Question one! What's 10 times 10!"

"100!" I responded without hesitation. It was an easy answer, but considering this guy was a freakin' sadist, I figured he'd lead me on just enough to make me think I was doing well, then start asking me impossible questions until the ruler had gone in as far as it could.

----------
10 MINUTES LATER
----------

So that's exactly what happened.

"Uh oh! I'm feeling some resistance here!" The man bellowed, and made a show of being unable to shove the ruler in further. Kyndall had tears in her eyes, shaking her head. "Looks like you kids fail math!" The man uncerimoniously yanked out the ruler, leading to another muffled gasp from Kyndall.

"But she can't be the only one to gets punishment! I mean, that's not fair, is it?" He stood up, and began whacking me with the ruler everywhere he could reach, which was about as high up as my ass. "This is for being poor at math!" Thankfully he left my balls alone. I think, even sadistic as he was, he had too much empathy to intentionally whack a guy in the balls with a ruler. Still though, I grunted with each impact. He swung harder and harder, bringing his hand further and further back. I tried to block out the pain, but it suddenly flooded over me. The pain from the impacts, and the unrelenting pressure on my wrists, finally pushed me over the edge. I gave a loud scream.

"It is my finest symphony," said the man, and bowed, "Why, what's this?" he said, looking at Kyndall still spread out tight beneath him, "A groupie has laid herself out before me, as bare and virginal as fallen snow." This guy was an idiot.

The man started to remove his shirt and jacket. Kyndall closed her eyes. I tried to think of something I could say, but couldn't think of anything that wouldn't possibly make it worse. Throwing his jacket on the floor, he kicked off his shoes, and removed his pants. The bulge in his underwear was more than evident.

"Sorry you gotta see this, bro! But a guy's gotta do, and all that," he quipped before pulling off his underwear, releasing his erection. I struggled with agonizing spasms on the end of my chain, wishing there were something I could do. If I were a foot or two lower, I'd be able to kick him in the head, but he'd seen to it that I was out of the way. He sat down, naked, on Kyndall's torso and wiped a tear out of her eye.

"Oh come on, it won't be that horrible. You're gonna make me feel bad..." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She turned away again.

And then a chair smashed into his head.