The story of Harvey

The story of Harvey


Who is Harvey? All you need to know is that he once gave a personal favour to a
young Arab man completing his education in the United Kingdom. The young man
went on to become the ruler of a small, remote desert kingdom and inherited vast
wealth gained from it's oil export trade, enabling him to live out his life
indulging in any excesses he choose. In particular, a fondness for imprisoning
and ill-treating beautiful, well-bred women, lured to his country by false
promises of riches. This man, whom we shall know as the Sheikh, is in Harvey's
debt, and has invited him and other like-minded friends to his remote desert
palace to share his pleasures....            

Harvey, who knew all about the Sheikh's sexual preferences, was shown into the
great  chamber and greeted warmly by his host. About a dozen other friends and
acquaintances of the Sheikh were present, some in business suits and others
wearing traditional Arab garb. The visitors maintained a polite, low-key
presence, knowing it was a great honour to be an invited guest of the eccentric
ruler of this small but oil-rich country. A light but delicious meal was served
and consumed, their host subsequently indulging in polite conversation with
individuals or small groups over brandy and cigars. After a while, a servant
clapped for quiet and the Sheikh announced to the guests that they would be
shown round his "training rooms". This is what they had all come for. Harvey and
the other men offered their thanks to this invitation with mounting excitement.
They knew that the rooms in question were where beautiful female captives were
"trained" by male "handlers" in order to satisfy the sadistic desires of the
Sheikh and his friends.

A manservant was summoned and introduced himself as Khaled, their guide for the
day. The group thanked the Sheikh once more and followed the manservant down the
corridor, their footsteps silent on the thickly carpeted floor. Inside the
air-conditioned building it was pleasantly cool compared with the desert heat
beyond. The subdued strains of classical music could be heard quietly in the
background over a hidden speaker system and the air was fragrant with the hint
of incense. Opulence exuded from every corner of the palace.

The guide led them along a long, wide corridor with a large number of heavy,
padded doors situated along it's whole length. Although the doors were obviously
soundproofed, faint moans could be heard from behind several of them as the
group passed, and once, a muffled scream. Khaled eventually stopped by door
number 8 and opened it, politely ushering them all into a white-painted room
about three metres square. Bright fluorescent lighting shone onto the scene
below.

Facing them, was an elegant, attractive and shapely brunette in her thirties.
Naked but for teetering black stilletto heels, sheer seamed stockings teamed
with a black suspender belt and shoulder-length black kid gloves, the woman was
bent over a padded block about a metre in length, height adjustable to keep her
long legs straight and her trunk horizontal along the block. She stood, heels
together, on two small square metal plates set side by side in the floor. Her
wrists were cuffed and fastened to extension pieces at the front end of the
block, and a strap across the middle of her back anchored to the sides ensured
she was firmly secured. Her head hung limply, dark hair falling across her face
and tears smudging her make-up. She appeared to be traumatised and hardly
noticed the men now crowding round her as she struggled weakly against the
restraining cuffs, shoulders shaking in time to her sobs. It was noticeable that
nipple clamps were fitted to the ample breasts that hung down through a cut out
section in the block, with attached wires disappearing through holes in the
floor. A video camera was set up immediately in front of the woman's face to
record the scene for the Sheikh's future enjoyment.   

Harvey and some of the others strolled around the back of the woman where a
superb pair of quivering, upthrust buttocks met their gaze, the twin orbs
beautifully presented within a framework of black suspenders and dark sheer
stockings. It was suddenly obvious why she was so distressed - a network of
raised, red welts criss-crossed the buttocks and thighs. 

Their guide explained that the centre of each plate on which the woman stood was
located on small springs. Any lifting of either foot would allow the plate in
turn to lift away from a  sprung contact underneath. When this happened an
extremely painful electric shock would be delivered through the wires to the
woman's nipples. It was a good incentive for the woman to keep her feet firmly
on the floor whilst being caned - which was of course nearly impossible.

Two people appeared through an adjacent doorway. They were the handler
administering the "training", a muscular young man wearing only a leather pouch,
and his assistant/interpreter, a slightly-built middle-aged bespectacled woman
wearing a white doctor's coat. They had evidently just finished a short rest
period. Khaled greeted the handler in his own language and the lady assistant in
English. "How is the training progressing?"  he inquired of the woman. "Very
well" she answered, with only a trace of her native Arab dialect. "However, she
lacks sufficient self-control and the correct level of training will take a very
long time to achieve - but we have plenty of patience!"   

Khaled turned to the visitors. "This lady has just completed the first half an
hour of her training" he explained. "It will carry on for at least another
hour". Harvey was rather shocked at this in view of the degree of punishment
already inflicted on the woman. He pondered grimly on her likely physical and
mental state at the end of this time.

The group was invited to take up suitable vantage points and Khaled held out his
arm towards the handler. "It is time to continue !" he announced. "My friend
here will now demonstrate his skills!"  The powerful young man, grinning in
gleeful anticipation, flexed a long, vicious-looking cane in his right hand.
Positioning himself unhurriedly behind the raw, quivering buttocks, he waited
while his female assistant crouched down face to face with the brunette. Cupping
the chin in her hand, she lifted the woman's head to look into her tear-stained
eyes. "Are you ready for your next session, my dear?" she asked pleasantly. The
eyes of the distraught woman welled up. "No - n-no more - please stop - it hurts
- I can't bear the pain - please!!"  she sobbed. The assistant smiled. "Of
course it hurts, my dear. It's entirely your own fault. You must keep still
whilst training is under way". She removed her hand from beneath the quivering
jaw and moved away, nodding to the handler. With a sadistic smile he raised his
arm and brought the cane whistling down onto the quaking globes.
AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE!! A scream burst from the woman's lips and a spiked heel
immediately lifted involuntarily - but only an inch or so - from one plate.
YYYYYYIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!! The woman shrieked in agony and thrashed in her bonds
as the electric shock went through her nipples. They all waited for the
frantically bouncing cheeks to settle; a full minute went by before the howls of
pain subsided and gave way to tearful moans interspersed by heaving sobs. The
guests fell silent, mesmerised by the scene being enacted before them, several
showing obvious signs of advanced sexual arousal.

Producing a silk handkerchief, the assistant wiped away the tears and gently
stroked the dark hair as if to give the brunette some sign of reassurance. She
planted a kiss on the  woman's damp forehead before rising and again signalling
that it was time for another stroke. Her tormentor smiled at the guests and
slowly raised his right arm once more. THHHWWAAAACCKKK!! The merciless cane
swished down onto the burning cheeks and screams of pain again reverberated
round the room. This time to her credit however, the brunette managed to keep
both ankles on the floor despite a frantic quivering of the long legs. The
crying woman slowly turned her head towards the watching men.
"Pl...please....make him s-stop" she pleaded in a hoarse whisper between
wracking sobs. The woman assistant stooped beside her and again looked her in
the eyes. "He will stop when you are properly trained - and not before!" she
retorted sternly. "You are totally lacking self-discipline at present - and no
matter how much it takes you will improve!" The brunette turned her head away,
weeping profusely.    

TTTHHHWWWAAAACCCCKKKK!!! Another powerful stroke, another shriek of agony, and
another blazing red stripe. However, the woman again somehow managed to keep
both feet still. A murmur of approval went round the group; the handler nodded
to them in acknowledgement of her self-control and ran his hand over the latest
red weal that had sprung up across the buttocks. Shoulders heaving, she sobbed
uncontrollably, the scarlet cheeks wobbling and bouncing almost with a life of
their own as her muscle co-ordination weakened - to the amusement of the guests
and handler alike. Harvey saw the latter was by now fully erect under the tight
pouch, and felt his own erection growing as again the tears were wiped away and
the handler's arm raised high.

CCRRRAAAAAACCCKKK!!! The stroke overlaid an earlier one, the flesh nearly
splitting with the force of the blow. "AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!" The woman shrieked
hysterically, this time unable to prevent her right ankle from lifting behind
her. Another jolt went through the tortured nipples and she screamed hoarsely. 
"O MY GOD!" NO MORE - NO MORE!! NO -  PLEEEAASE!" she begged in desperation. A
stream of urine jetted from between her legs as she lost control of her bladder
muscles. The handler laughed and slapped the raw flesh playfully, bringing fresh
howls from the fainting woman. The assistant grasped her under her chin once
more and lifting her head, looked fixedly into the wild, pain-wracked eyes. "Get
a grip on yourself my dear - you have nearly another hour to go yet!" she said
without emotion . "NO - I CAN'T STAND IT - PLEEEEASE!" came the sobbing reply,
her body quivering uncontrollably.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. The assistant stroked a tear-stained cheek with
affection. "Ssshh, my sweet" she cooed softly in the other's ear. "You must be
brave and not make so much fuss". The weeping brunette went into a bout of
hysterics. She shook her head wildly and yanked at the straps in desperation.
"MERCY - HAVE MERCY!! YOU'RE KILLING ME - P-PLEASE - DON'T HURT ME ANY MORE -
OOOOOHHHH - THE PAIN!  O GOD - NO MORE - OOOOHHHHHH!!" she howled. Her pleas
were futile. Another nod to the handler and the cane swished down once again,
and yet another angry red weal sprang up across the shapely cheeks accompanied
by yet another ear-splitting shriek of agony. Somehow - against all expectations
- she managed to keep both her spike-heeled feet on the plates, in spite of the
hellish pain.

By now the guests were transfixed at the sight before them. All were highly
aroused; some, breathing heavily had a hand thrust down their trousers.
Conversation and jokey remarks had petered out. Apart from the low background
hum of the air-conditioning units the only sounds heard in the room between
strokes were the shrieks, slowly subsiding to groans and sobs, of the weeping
brunette; all of which were recorded in vivid close-up by the impassive eye and
ear of the video camera.  Meanwhile, the female assistant carefully checked the
mass of raised weals now covering most of  the buttocks. "Excellent!"  she told
the group with a smile of satisfaction. "The flesh will begin to lacerate very
shortly" The nipples were also checked to ensure the clamps were tight and the
nod of approval swiftly followed. 

The handler waited for the moans to subside a little, then delivered a vicious,
cutting stroke across the tops of the shapely thighs.
SWIIISSSHHH-CCCRRRAAACCKK!!             It was too much - with a scream of pure
agony the woman's right foot lifted from the plate, sending another shock to the
nipples. Totally hysterical by now, she could not stand this level of pain any
longer and fainted in her bonds, the cries at last subsiding. Her respite was
however brief. The assistant swiftly administered smelling salts to revive her
and to ensure that she felt every moment of her torture.

It was time for a further rest. The handler clicked a switch, turning off the
circuit to the nipple wires. Whilst the brunette was recovering her senses,
coughing feebly as the smelling salts took effect, the guests were invited to
inspect the upthrust buttocks, by now covered in a mass of angry red weals which
were starting to turn a deep purple in places. The flesh had actually split
where a couple of strokes had overlaid others and a thin rivulet of blood ran
down the left buttock. Khaled suggested the visitors feel the welts for
themselves. Willing hands in turn roamed over the soft mounds feeling the raised
ridges formed by the cane. The assistant meanwhile leant down to speak into the
woman's ear. "You will be pleased to learn that the electricity is now switched
off. Please open your  legs as wide as possible for inspection, my dear"  she
ordered. The woman had no will to resist; slowly she spread wide the long,
shapely nylon-clad legs in their skyscraper heels to reveal her most private
areas. "Wider!" commanded the assistant sharply. With a groan she obeyed and
forced her legs apart until she was as totally exposed beneath the bright lights
as a woman could be. Harvey and the other eager guests were then invited by
Khaled to take turns to inspect the smooth-shaved vaginal area and the puckered
pink anus. A succession of fingers enthusiastically pulled, rubbed and stroked
the pouting lips and the prominent clitoris. Others prodded the tight anal ring,
forcing it to contract and expand involuntarily. The earlier tension of the
training session was broken and the tormentors laughed and joked amongst
themselves as they played with the helpless woman.

She was by now past the stage of protesting at this humiliation and could only
cry softly to herself, the tortured buttocks gently quivering in time to her
sobs as her most intimate parts were violated, the vagina moistened by the
relentlessly probing fingers. Meanwhile, the handler selected a thinner,
whippier cane in preparation for continuing the training and gave it a few
practice swishes. He smiled in satisfaction at it's action and checked out the
few remaining unmarked spots on the red and purple flesh which would be suitable
for the next dozen or so strokes. Or he could concentrate on overlaying the
existing weals and try to split them open. There was plenty of time to decide.     

However, the guests did not have unlimited time, and soon Khaled suggested they
take their leave in order to inspect some of the other rooms along the corridor.
They bade farewell to the brunette's tormentors and left the traumatised woman
to their not so tender mercies. As the door closed behind them Harvey's last
view was of the handler taking up position behind the tortured buttocks ready to
administer a further bout of his own brand of "training".....

(To be continued)




The Story of Harvey  -  chapter 2

The story so far: As a young man at an English university, Harvey did a favour
for a fellow student, an Arab who went on to inherit great wealth and power as
Sheikh  of a small, obscure but oil-rich middle-eastern state. The Sheikh, who
has a very sadistic nature where females are concerned, has in gratitude invited
Harvey and other male friends to his remote palace where his sadistic "handlers"
mete out harsh treatments to beautiful women lured by false promises of riches.
This chapter continues their tour... 

The party of male guests followed their guide, Khaled, into the room which was
large and spacious. Harvey was astonished to find it resembled a gymnasium.
There were various pieces of exercise equipment scattered around, and what
looked like a boxing ring took up a large part of the room. Nearby was a strange
sight that caught everyone's attention. An oblong wooden box, shallow but large
enough to accommodate a person was suspended some two metres from the ground by
chains at each corner. It was obvious that the box was occupied by a woman; two
enormous breasts hung down through a rectangular hole cut out from the base of
the box. Harvey had not seen a pair like them before - they quivered gently like
two huge melons, a pair of thrusting red nipples completing a very erotic sight.

Khaled saw the guests' looks of amazement at the sight of the magnificent orbs.
"These belong to an American model well-known in what you would call "big-boob"
magazines. She is a blonde lady aged 23 who thought she had the chance of a
lucrative modelling assignment in our country" he explained. "We saw that she
was already extremely well endowed, with no silicone enhancements, and so she
has undergone a three-month course of special hormones which rapidly increases
breast size". Harvey could hear crying from within the box and like the other
guests, wondered what was in store for the unlucky model. 

Two more people now entered the room. One was a tough, athletic-looking man in
his forties wearing a tracksuit and trainers. The other was a younger black
woman, also muscular and fit, wearing a white athletes vest and matching shorts.
Khaled introduced them as - believe it or not - Adam and Eve, causing a ripple
of laughter amongst the men. Harvey was surprised that they both spoke English,
until Khaled told them that Adam was once a British army physical training
instructor and Eve a promising athlete from South Africa whose career had been
curtailed by injury. They  had been recruited onto the Sheikh's payroll through
his network of contacts abroad. Both sadists by nature when it came to matters
involving the female sex, the pair were now instructors in charge of organising
training and recreational activities for the Sheikh's handlers and other staff.

"Time to get the equipment ready" said Adam and went to a nearby cupboard. He
returned with two odd-looking stainless steel rings rather like large napkin
holders, hinged so that each opened up into two halves. A curved rod with a
toothed ratchet arrangement protruded from the end of one half, the other half
having a small tube into which the rod fitted and locked, and which could be
tightened via the ratchet mechanism. "Breast cuffs" he said in a matter-of-fact
way to the assembled onlookers. Eve positioned herself next to the quivering
left breast. "I'll hold this one steady" she said, taking hold of the giant
mammary in both hands. Whistling nonchalantly, Adam deftly placed the two
sections around the base of the breast and slowly forced them together until the
ratchet rod engaged in the tube. A scream came from the box as the breast was
constricted by the cuff. This was totally ignored by Adam as he used his hands
to push the two sections together as far as possible, the ratchet arrangement
preventing it from opening out again.
"YOU BASTARDS - TAKE IT OFF ME -  IT'S TOO TIGHT  - AAAAGGGHHH!"
The instructors did not react at all to the anguished howls from within the box
but merely continued with the task in hand. Harvey guessed they dealt with so
many females in pain that such sounds came quite normally to them. 

Eve next steadied the right breast so that the operation could be repeated. As
the cuff was tightened, another scream followed by anguished pleas came from
within the box: "AAAAGGGHHH!! PLEASE - STOP - YOU'RE HURTING ME - STOP - STOP -
NO MORE - UUURRRGGGHH!!  The couple again paid no attention whatsoever to the
pleas and sobs, even at such close proximity. Adam finished tightening the
second cuff and stepped back to check his efforts. Each enormous breast was now
tightly constricted around it's base by the steel cuffs causing them to appear
even more spherical in shape, like two firm white pumpkins.

However, Adam hadn't finished. Producing a pair of allen keys, he handed one to
Eve. Inserting the small hexagonal rod into a little socket on the right cuff he
began to turn it briskly clockwise, forcing the ratchet deeper inside the tube
and tightening the steel band even further. At the same time Eve did likewise
with the left cuff. The sobbing heard from inside the box suddenly turned to
shrieks as the breasts were forced to a smaller and still smaller diameter
beneath the bands.
"NO-OOOOOOO - PLEASE - AAAAAYYYIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE - OH GOD - I CAN'T STAND IT - NO
MORE - PLEEEEEASE - AAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!"
The keys wound the ratchets tighter and tighter until, to a background of
hysterical shrieks and frantic pleas to stop, the two sections of both cuffs
were drawn completely together and each formed an unbroken ring around the
flesh.
  
Adam now brought from the cupboard a wooden board with twin semi-circular
cut-outs along one edge. He positioned it level with the underside of the box.
Eve meanwhile brought an identical board across and they slid both of these into
position one above and one below the breasts, so that the cuffs fitted into the
semi-circular cut-outs. Harvey also noticed that the rims of the breast cuffs
were slightly raised , enabling the edges of the boards to seat firmly in these
matching grooves as they came together. The two halves of the boards now met and
were locked together at each end to form a kind of pillory. This was then fixed
flush onto the box with bolts via pre-drilled threaded holes. The guests
realised that the reason for fully tightening the cuffs was that they had to be
reduced to the size of the cut-outs in order to accommodate them.

The end result was that now the cuffs were immovably fixed in two holes that
effectively formed an integral part of the box, and the woman could not exert
any control over her breasts. Although the giant mounds were perfectly capable
of bouncing and swinging in all directions, this could only happen through
external influences and not by her own efforts. Inside the box, she could move
her limbs to some extent but her torso was firmly secured and she could not move
this area of her body a fraction of an inch.

Adam and Eve checked their work carefully and nodded to each other that all was
well. Eve checked that each breast was free to swing around in any direction,
although the constricting cuffs naturally dampened some of their movement.
Continuous weeping and groaning came from within the box as Adam slightly raised
it's height by operating an electric winch on the wall until the large nipples
were at eye level. The instructors gave Khaled a smile and a thumbs-up and, with
a brief wave to the guests left the room.

The door reopened almost immediately. "Here comes a young man who wants to make
use of the apparatus" said Khaled as a dark-complexioned youth - a trainee
handler - came in. He wore singlet and shorts and carried a holdall. "I expect
you will be giving us a demonstration of your skills" smiled the guide. The
youth grinned back and felt inside his holdall, to produce two red objects.
Harvey suddenly knew what was about to happen. The youth put on the boxing
gloves, Khaled tightening the laces for him; once completed, he took up position
in front of the huge breasts. All was now clear. The model had been transformed
into twin punchballs to assist with the boxer's training programme!

Raising his gloved fists, the youth steadied himself. Then, his fists began to
rain blows upon the huge orbs, left-right-left-right-left-right one after the
other, left fist to right breast and vice-versa. The breasts bounced wildly back
and forth as the blows landed, to the accompaniment of screams of agony and a
rhythmic, muffled thump of leather on flesh.
WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP...... a steady pace was maintained as
the youth's arms whirled round and round. The great melons had already started
to turn red from their constriction within the cuffs; now they became a deeper
shade still as they underwent fearful punishment.
WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP...... "AAAGGHHH....PLEASE.......NO
MORE........YOU'RE KILLING  ME......    STOP.......FOR GOD'S SAKE.... STOP .....
AAAIIIIGGGHHHH!!"
WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP........

The boxer was unconcerned about the pitiful screams from above and concentrated
purely on his own efforts, making the breasts bounce and leap in all directions
as he smashed his gloved fists into the darkening flesh. The box itself shook
slightly as it's occupant thrashed around helplessly in her agony. After about
five minutes he stopped; the shrieks at the same time subsiding to low moans and
tearful sobs.

Adam and Eve appeared on the scene again. "Punchballs working properly?"
enquired Adam of the youth. He spoke broken English. "They very bouncy-bouncy"
he said, indicating with his hands the wild movement of the orbs. Adam gave one
agonisingly sore breast a firm punch, sending it swinging around and extracting
a howl of pain from the box. He frowned. "Any ideas as to how we can stabilise
them?" he asked Eve. She thought for a moment. "We could try counterweighting
them" she suggested. Adam raised a finger. "Good idea" he said, and went once
more to the cupboard. He emerged a minute later with two heavy weights each
attached to a metre or so of strong fishing line. Harvey raised his eyebrows
when he saw that the other end of each line was tied to a vicious-looking
fishhook. Adam passed one weight and line to his companion. She grasped the left
nipple between two fingers and pulled downwards, holding the hook between her
fingers of her other hand. Expertly and without ceremony she forced the
needle-sharp point into the area where the nipple joined the left breast. It
quickly emerged the other side, accompanied by a shriek of pure agony. Eve let
the weight hang free, pulling the nipple downward. Droplets of blood appeared on
the floor beneath. "Here's the other one" said Adam, handing her the weight and
careful to keep the point of the hook away from danger to themselves.
"NO......MERCY.......I CAN'T STAND IT.......PLEASE DON'T HURT ME ANY
MORE............NO.............OH GOD.............YYYYIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

The pleas turned to yet more screams of agony as the second hook was thrust
home.                             
Now both weights dangled below the huge breasts, pulling them agonisingly
downwards. Harvey wondered if the nipples would be pulled off, but his fears
proved groundless.

The boxer took up position again
WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP......he laid into the now purpling
breasts with gusto. To the satisfaction of Adam and Eve, they did not swing
about anything like before, the counterweights serving their purpose
successfully and providing more stability. Unfortunately for the woman, this
caused her even more pain. WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP.... Before long the
once-white globes were a deep purple colour, whilst at the same time blood
dripped steadily onto the floor as the weights slowly swung back and forth and
the nipples were forced to take the strain of their embedded hooks.
"AAAAAIIIIEEEEE.......NO-OOOOOOO.......AAAARRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!   YOU'RE KILLING
ME.......HAVE MERCY........PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!!"
The box shook gently and the demented shrieks rose to a crescendo as the woman
became totally hysterical with the pain. 

The guests were transfixed at the sight, the fists hitting the breasts one after
the other in a blur of speed as the youth worked up to full power. The shrieks
of agony gradually became hoarse groans as the strain on the model's vocal
chords became too much.  "Is that better?" enquired Adam. The youth stopped for
a moment. "Punchballs working very good!" he grinned. "Try not to burst them!"
laughed Eve.
"HELP ME.......HELP ME..........PLEASE..........I BEG YOU......NO MORE!"
The croaking voice inside the box sounded weaker now. The woman had stopped
thrashing around and the onlookers heard a continuous low moaning sound,
interspersed with choking sobs and gasps and occasional pleas for mercy.

The youth and the instructors were unconcerned at her plight however. She was
purely a means of providing healthy exercise to an aspiring boxer - a piece of
gymnasium equipment and nothing more.     

Once more the gloves were raised; once more the punchballs took their terrible
punishment. WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP-WHOOMP.....
Once more the broken, hysterical screams from the tortured woman as the purple
mounds were pummelled without mercy....

Soon the punchballs had turned various shades of black, purple and blue as deep
bruises spread over the whole of the area under attack from the boxer. Harvey
wondered how long they could last before permanent injury occurred - not much
longer it would seem. In addition, the nipples were close to tearing, as the
weights swung back and forth with the blows and the hooks all but tore through
the flesh. However, he would not be able to stay and see the outcome, as Khaled
indicated that it was time to move on.

Reluctantly, the guests said their goodbyes to the instructors and the youth,
leaving the latter working up quite a sweat and still pounding away at the twin
punchballs as they left the room. It was time to visit more of the attractions
awaiting them behind the many locked doors.... 




The Story of Harvey - chapter 3

The story so far: As a young man at an English university, Harvey did a favour
for a fellow student, an Arab who went on to inherit great wealth and power as
Sheikh  of a small, obscure but oil-rich middle-eastern state. The Sheikh, who
has a very sadistic nature where females are concerned, has in gratitude invited
Harvey and other male friends to his remote palace where his sadistic "handlers"
mete out harsh treatments to beautiful women lured by false promises of riches.
The tour continues.......


As the party of guests made their way up the corridor, the muted strains of
classical music accompanying their progress made sharp contrast to the
ear-splitting shrieks and sobs they had left behind in the last room. They
followed their guide Khaled for some distance before approaching a set of
polished oak twin doors. As before, the guide swung open the doors and ushered
the party inside. Harvey expected the familiar sounds of women in extreme
distress to fill the air once more as another product of the Sheikh's twisted
imagination unfolded before them. However, they were surprised at the silence
that greeted them as they all filed in.      

Three identical exercise cycles stood side by side facing them in the room, upon
each of which sat a female rider. The riders wore nothing except teetering black
stiletto heeled court shoes; stiff leather bondage collars, cut high under the
chin to force the head up and slightly back; and black leather discipline
helmets. The helmets were buckled up tightly so as to cover the heads like a
second skin, leaving just two small nostril holes for breathing purposes. They
incorporated ball gags and earplugs, the latter showing evidence of tiny
built-in earphones for receiving instructions via a short-wave radio system. It
was obvious why silence had greeted the guests when entering the room. The
riders were in sensory deprivation - they could not see, make no sound nor hear
anything other than what was said to them over their personal earpiece.

The wrists of each woman were cuffed and shackled to the handlebars of the
cycles. Likewise tight straps ensured spike-heeled shoes and pedals were
inseparable. A small steel ring built into the top of each helmet was clipped to
a metal bar running just above the heads of the riders. This ensured each woman
was forced to maintain a "proper" cycling stance at all times.       
               
Each cycle was numbered. The rider astride number 3 was a black woman, the other
two were white. Harvey noticed that they were all very shapely and probably aged
in their twenties. As he went around the back of the machines, he saw
modifications had been made. The saddles had been removed and the supporting
strut replaced by one that curved forward and upward to finish about a foot in
front of the normal position. A padded support for the upper leg area was
substituted for a saddle, incorporating straps buckled over the thighs as an
additional restraint. These were necessarily of rubber which would stretch with
the up and down motion of the rider's legs. As a result, the buttocks and
genitals (with all traces of hair removed, which was standard practice in the
palace) were left free and unencumbered at the rear for whatever treatment was
deemed appropriate.               

On a raised platform behind the riders sat the controller, a very fat bearded
Arab. Khaled greeted him in English and Harvey was at first surprised that the
man spoke it perfectly - until he remembered that the all the luckless women in
the Sheikh's palace were English or American and they would of course need to
understand their instructions. The controller had in front of him on the desk a
small microphone tuned to the ear-piece of each individual rider, or all of them
if need be. In front of the desk was a concave line of chairs for the guests,
allowing them a fine view of the riders' hindquarters. Facing each cycle,
mounted above head height on stands were circular dials which recorded the
number of revolutions per minute pedalled. A red line was marked at both 120rpm
and 60rpm.

Two familiar figures entered and spoke to the controller. The guests were
surprised to see their earlier acquaintances Adam and Eve, the gym instructors
from the last room visited. They were in charge of discipline during the
forthcoming session. Adam held a  slim, steel rod about a metre long which
tapered to become very thin and flexible towards the end. Harvey thought it was
probably the top part of a tank radio aerial. Eve meanwhile looked an erotic
sight with her white top and shorts contrasting with her dusky skin and her
hands encased in elbow-length white leather gloves. She held a long whippy
riding crop as she walked along the line of helpless, quivering buttocks like an
army sergeant inspecting troops, giving each in turn a couple of experimental
taps. 

Khaled ushered the guests to their chairs and they settled down to watch the
show. The controller switched on the microphone to address all three riders.
"Good morning, ladies!" he chortled. "I trust you are feeling fit and energetic!
Your first training session of the day will be a fifteen minute sprint. You are
required to maintain a minimum speed of 120 rpm, or two pedal revolutions per
second. Please begin pedalling NOW". He switched off the microphone and with
elbows on the desk, rested his chin on his hands and watched as six
stiletto-clad heels began to turn the pedals. Adam and Eve strolled along the
line as speed picked up, carefully studying the wobbling posteriors as they
jiggled and bounced enticingly. Many of the seated guests were becoming aroused
at the sight and Harvey himself felt his organ begin to stir.

No sound came from the hooded and gagged women but after a while it was evident
that they were feeling the pace. Their breathing was becoming laboured whilst
their bodies started to quiver with the effort. Leg muscles became more
prominent with the strain, leather-encased heads began to jerk and sway and
breasts heaved as they strove to maintain speed. Of course, they had no way of
telling whether they were achieving the required number of revolutions other
than their own estimates. All they could do was count to themselves and hope
that their judgement was correct.          

After about seven minutes, number 1 began to flag. Speed dropped to around the
120 rpm red line, then just below it. The controller clicked on his microphone.
"Number 1!  Failure to maintain speed - a penalty has been incurred". The rider
tried to shake her head despairingly but could move it only a fraction due to
her restraints. Adam meanwhile took up position and raised his arm.
THWAAAAACCCKKK! THWAAAAACCCKKK!  THWAAAAACCCKKK! Three vicious strokes slashed
across the jiggling cheeks, leaving  thin red lines across the white flesh that
immediately oozed tiny droplets of blood. A muffled shriek could just be heard
behind the gag. The rider faltered with the shock and pain and speed dropped
even  more. "Number 1! Last opportunity to regain speed!" barked the controller.
To her credit, the trembling rider somehow managed to get her legs pumping again
and the rev counter dial eased above the dreaded red line. 

After a couple more minutes number 2 succumbed from the effort of pedalling at
speed. Calves aching and lungs bursting, she had no choice but to stop, her
spiked heels freewheeling round on the pedals as speed slowed. The red line was
passed. "Number 2! For lack of effort a penalty has been incurred!" This time
Eve took up position behind the exhausted woman, stooped and peered underneath
the plump buttocks to check the exact position of the vagina. Holding the crop
in both hands under the woman's bottom, she started to beat the labia rapidly
with the leather tip. SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!.......the guests could
clearly hear the sound of leather hitting soft, moist flesh as the crop flashed
up and down in the instructor's expert hands.  

Even though the woman was tightly restrained and gagged, it was obvious from her
movements that she was in absolute agony. After about half a minute. Eve stopped
the beating. She patted the quaking buttocks and with a smile of satisfaction
walked to one side to await her next assignment. "Number 2! Continue at correct
speed!" came the order. Despite the unbearable pain, the tortured rider somehow
found the strength borne out of fear to gradually increase speed to the required
level.

Dark-skinned number 3 was quite powerfully built and was just about coping.
However, the combination of fatigue coupled with the beating meant Number 2
could not keep to the punishing pace for long and again the dial slowly swung
down to the 120 rpm line. "Number 2!" came the now familiar voice from the desk.
"You are failing to maintain speed. Slackening of effort will NOT be tolerated".
Adam strolled over to the despairing woman and stroked the jiggling buttocks in
lustful anticipation. As before, the whippy steel rod was raised; as before,
three swift blows were delivered. THWAAAACK! THWAAAACK! THWAAAACK! And, as
before, three thin red lines appeared on the white globes. The woman must have
gone into shock, as she did not even attempt to continue with her pedalling. She
merely sat fixed in her upright stance, her body shaking all over with silent
sobs.      
  
Harvey felt his erection throbbing as he surveyed the scene in front of him.
Some of the  onlookers' hands had by now disappeared inside their clothing.
Others were just happy to relax and watched contentedly at the portrayal of
female suffering presented before them. 

"Number 2!" came the stern voice again. "You are not making any effort. This is
your last chance before severe punishment is necessary! " Harvey winced to
himself. If this was not 'severe punishment', then what was? The traumatised
rider somehow forced herself to resume her efforts; as the high heels pushed
wearily on the pedals, speed gradually rose and the needle climbed slowly up to
and above the red line on the dial. The guests could only admire the courage of
number 2 as, against the odds she overcame the  agony of the beatings and
continued to pedal, the whipped buttocks bouncing wildly in front of the
watching men.

Only two minutes of pedalling time remained when it was the turn of number 3 to
slow and cause the needle to slip below 120 rpm. Adam's eyes lit up with
sadistic pleasure and he took up his position as the controller switched on the
microphone. "Number 3! Failure to maintain speed - a penalty has been incurred!"
Adam raised his arm. The steel rod flashed down on the dusky orbs.
THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!!
THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!! THWAAAAACCCKKK!! No less than
six vicious strokes! The rider writhed and shrieked silently into her gag as
pain overwhelmed her senses. Rivulets of blood began to trickle down the striped
cheeks and a stream of liquid poured onto the floor beneath as she lost control
of her bladder. But somehow, like her companion she found the willpower to get
up to speed again.



Round and round went the pedals, every revolution more difficult as the women
somehow tried to find the willpower to carry on. It was agony........sheer
agony.......it was impossiible..........

Fortunately for the women especially number 2, who by this time was totally
spent, the fifteen minutes was now up. "Fifteen minutes rest, ladies!" they
heard through their earpieces. All three would have collapsed onto the
handlebars of their cycles if it had not been for the restraint of their collars
and helmets. Instead, they sat upright, breasts heaving as they tried to regain
their breath, bodies shaking with a mix of exhaustion and wracking sobs which
went unheard behind the gags. 

The guests were invited to inspect the riders during the rest period. Khaled
went to the front of number 2 and as Harvey looked on, peeled open a Velcro
panel covering her eyes. As the panel was lifted back, Harvey moved in close and
looked through the aperture. Two large, hazel-coloured eyes peered back,
pain-wracked and wet with tears.  

Muffled sounds came from beneath the gag and it was evident that she was trying
to communicate with them, probably to plead for mercy - a futile gesture of
course. 

"There is nothing more erotic than the tears of a woman in pain!" laughed
Khaled, Harvey nodding in agreement. The guide held the panel up for a few
moments for other guests to take a look, then pushed it back down into position
and resealed the Velcro. Meanwhile other guests had been busy feeling and
inspecting the whipped buttocks of all three, or fondling the shapely breasts
that rose and fell enticingly as the gasping women recovered their breath. They
offered no resistance, being too weak from their exertions. Even if they had
tried, they could not have done anything to prevent the men taking advantage of
them.        

It was time for preparations for the next exercise. Eve approached the first
rider with something in her hand. Kneeling beneath the woman, she attached small
clamps to first one of the inner labia, then the other. The clamps themselves
were attached to thin nylon cords which ended in small loops. These cords were
left hanging down with the end sections coiled on the floor. The clamps were
tightened with tiny wing nuts until the lips were held in a vice-like grip.
Faint, anguished sounds could be heard from behind the helmet. 

Once Eve had done the same with the other women, Adam came across to number 1
with a small cylindrical roller on metal brackets which clipped into holes in
the floor beneath her bottom; once fixed the roller sat a few inches above floor
level. He repeated the operation with the others. The controller then addressed
all three women. "Time for your next exercise, ladies! You will be glad to know
you will be required over the next fifteen minutes to maintain 60 rpm only.
However, there is a degree of difficulty as you are about to find out."  Eve
again knelt beneath the trembling buttocks of rider number 1. She took the free
ends of the two cords and fed them under the roller. Next she adjusted the
pedals so that the woman's high heels were placed top and bottom. Finally, she
took the looped cord ends and, passing them under the roller drew them out
horizontally and hooked each around a spiked heel, securing them with a strong
elastic band. Harvey looked on in fascination. He saw that the cords were not
quite taut, but had adjusting sleeves by which they could be tightened or
slackened as desired. Eve gripped one of these sleeves and drew the cord
tighter, looking up to check as the sex lip was stretched downward. Once it had
been pulled almost to it's limit, she clipped the sleeve tight again. The same
was done with the other cord. Eve came out from under the rider and put her ear
close to the gag. Hearing the muffled cries of pain she was satisfied the lips
were  extended as far as possible, and moved on to number 2. Soon all three
women were fully stretched, each weeping silent tears as the sensitive flesh was
mercilessly tugged to it's limit by the cords and clamps.              

"Ladies, please begin" came the order. The riders obeyed - and gurgling screams
were stifled in their throats as each pedal reached it's furthest forward
position, stretching the  labia beyond anything they could bear. First one lip
then the other stretched and contracted....stretched and
contracted.......stretched and contracted.....as they looked on, the guests were
amazed how the three pairs of sex lips could be pulled down so far without the
soft flesh tearing. For the women, it was almost impossible to keep pace even at
60 rpm. They were in screaming agony with every half revolution of the pedals,
the stifled shrieks audible even through the confines of the gags. It was
especially difficult for number 2, whose vagina was already so tender from the
cropping. After only a minute, she was in so much pain she found it impossible
to continue and the needle fell. The controller, as before, confirmed that a
further penalty was on it's way - and once more Adam took up position, eyes
glinting with anticipatory pleasure. THWAAACCCKKK! THWAAAAACCCKKK!
THWAAAACCCKKK!  The inevitable thin stripes appeared on the jiggling globes, the
flesh splitting open in several places with the force of the blows.

Eve immediately followed up by administering more punishment, ensuring her crop
fell on the bleeding welts and adding to the rider's hellish torment. 
  
 "Resume pedalling, number 2" came the order through her earpiece. The tortured
woman, sobbing uncontrollably to herself, nevertheless made a supreme effort,
forcing the pedals round despite the numbing agony between her legs and across
her buttocks. Khaled turned to the audience. "I think you will all agree number
2 is a very brave lady indeed" he remarked. The men murmured approval. Even Adam
nodded in agreement and patted the quaking, bloody buttocks affectionately.              

Eve meanwhile crouched beneath each woman in turn, keeping a close watch on the
vaginas in case the flesh of the inner labia tore under the pressure. To help
avoid such a mishap, she carried a tube of lubricating jelly which she expertly
rubbed onto the grotesquely distorted lips as they alternately jerked up and
down in their rhythmic dance of pain. "All ok at the moment!" she called to the
controller as she finished inspecting number 3.   
    
During the next few minutes number 1 received a further three strokes as a
result of a slight dip below the red line - although this was only momentarily.
It did not matter. Any failure to keep up the pace, however slight, was
punishable. Naturally, the woman could not pick up speed immediately and Eve
tried a variation by slapping the leather thong of her crop against the
undersides of the heaving breasts, landing several strokes first on one, then
the other. She started lightly and gradually increased the firmness of the
blows. This spurred on the hysterical rider and with a supreme effort she
managed to get back on target, much to Eve's disappointment.   

Incredibly, the women succeeded in finishing the exercise without the necessity
of further punishment. "You may now stop, ladies!" came the instruction. The
three were by this time perspiring freely and almost fainting with the pain,
number 2 in extreme distress and trembling violently. They sat traumatised on
their cycles whilst Eve removed the clamps and cords. Once this had been done,
Harvey and the guests again strolled over to have a closer look. Hands roamed
over soft, feminine curves. Firm breasts, distended labia and tight anuses were
all thoroughly felt and examined as the men crowded around the luckless trio.   
 
"Are they having any more of this today?" asked Harvey of his guide, convinced
the women had taken all they could endure. "Oh yes" came the unconcerned reply.
"His Highness has a preference for well-stretched lips. They will be repeating
the last exercise at least twice during today to help the process." Harvey was
shocked at this. Surely the women could not be asked to repeat this torment
once, let alone twice?

It was not the time to ponder on such issues. Khaled announced to the party that
they must get on, or may not have time to see all of the events taking place
behind the many other sealed doors. They took a last look at the distraught trio
and filed out to visit the next room.......... 




The Story of Harvey - part 4

The continuing (and much delayed) saga of a visit to the remote desert palace of
a rich and cruel Sheikh. Harvey met this man when young and carried out a great
favour for him. Since then he has remained a privileged friend and one of those
invited to witness the "special treatment" meted out to kidnapped women inside
the palace........ 

The Sheikh's almost limitless wealth meant that he could indulge in just about
anything that his sadistic nature desired. His desert palace was totally
self-sufficient in every way to supply the means to inflict ever more brutal
tortures on the unfortunate females brought within it's walls. All that was
needed was a regular supply of beautiful ladies, which was easily achieved with
the unparalleled riches at the Sheikh's disposal, and the regular audience of
special friends and acquaintances invited to the palace for the privilege of
watching the "entertainment". 

This latest audience was at that moment entering one of the largest rooms in the
whole palace, one equipped with a raised viewing platform about a metre high
around the inside perimeter for a better visual appreciation of the activities
within. Harvey was at the front of the group immediately behind their Arab
guide, Khaled. His senses were nearly overwhelmed by both the sights and sounds
as he stepped onto the platform, grasped the front handrail and gazed around.         

The huge room was used by apprentice handlers to practice their skills in the
art of torture. In every part of the room the guests saw naked or semi-naked
beauties, all held in various forms of restraint and all having the most hideous
tortures inflicted on them by sadistic, grinning young men who appeared all to
be in their late teens. The young men wore only small black posing pouches, most
of which were stretched taut by the throbbing erections within. The air was a
crescendo of shrieks and moans interspersed with desperate pleadings as the
apprentices performed their allotted tasks with great enthusiasm, whilst
instructors in white coats looked on impassively, marking their clip-boards
accordingly.        

Nearest to where the group stood was the cane and whip area where about a dozen
women were being worked on. The air was filled with the swish and crack of
leather or bamboo on flesh, the frenzied rattling of restraining chains and a
non-stop chorus of screams and pleas for mercy as blows rained down incessantly.
Cupping his hand to Harvey's ear, Khaled managed to explain above the din that
each apprentice had to contribute a hundred full-bloodied strokes on his chosen
woman, scrutinised by the instructors who helped by suggesting for instance,
different arm actions or the best place for each implement to strike. When
Harvey enquired about the damage done to the luckless women, Khaled merely
shrugged "My friend, they are expendable".

The onlookers studied the women on which the whips and canes were being used.
All were in their mid-twenties and good looking; they were nude apart from
teetering black stiletto heeled shoes, designed with locking ankle straps to
prevent their being kicked off. As was customary in the palace, every pubis was
smooth-shaven. Each woman had her wrists cuffed and attached to the end of a
steel bar which in turn hung from chains fixed in the ceiling. The bar was
adjusted so that the feet could just reach the ground at full stretch. A tiled
floor in this area made for an erotic click-clacking of high heels as the women
strove in vain to escape from the agony of their ordeal; here and there a pool
of urine lay on the floor where the pain had resulted in loss of bladder
control. Bodies hot and wet with perspiration, they writhed and jerked
frantically in their bonds as the youths' arms repeatedly rose and fell, the
implements slashing down on soft flesh by now criss-crossed with deep red and
purple welts, many of which dripped rivulets of blood. Buttocks, thighs and
breasts had received most of the punishment, although few areas below the neck
had escaped completely. Wild, pain-filled eyes were filled with tears which
smudged make-up as they coursed down over the cheekbones; some women were almost
hoarse with screaming with one or two dribbling messily as they lost control of
their facial muscles.

Not far from them a pretty girl with short blonde hair was having her breasts
thrashed by a plump young man wielding a short, multi-stranded whip. The ample
breasts were a mass of red stripes, the nipples swollen and purple. She was
almost out of her mind with pain, her mouth a permanent "O" and her eyes
red-rimmed with tears. She wriggled and twisted in frantic but unsuccessful
attempts to avoid the blows, her demented shrieks almost painful on the ears of
the audience.
 

The nearest woman, a striking brunette whose body was a mass of crimson stripes,
was at that moment having her shaven pubis beaten with a thin, whippy cane. Even
in her weakened state she found the strength to scream as her body convulsed in
fresh agonies.

"NO - NO MORE - AAAAGGGHHHH!! STOP - STOP! PLEEEEASE!! AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!"
she shrieked as the cane swished down and bit into the soft mound once more.

THWAAAACK!!
"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!! NO-OOOOOO - I CAN'T STAND IT! UUUUUURRRRGGGGHHHH!!"
THWAAAACK!!
"AAAAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!! MERCY - MERCEEEEEEEEE!!
AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
THWAAAACK!!
"NOOOOOOO - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

The sobbing, hysterical woman sagged in her bonds as her pubis began to turn a
deep shade of crimson under the blows. The young apprentice, who could only have
been about sixteen, ensured that twenty powerful strokes were applied, flexed
the cane in his hands and went over to the instructor for some helpful hints on
his action. They exchanged a few words then, whilst the groaning woman hung
semi-conscious in her bonds he replaced the cane in  a large box and instead
selected a thick, plaited leather bull-whip for the next session. He ran his
hand down the shapely curving back, the skin hot with perspiration and covered
in raised, red welts. Her bottom was in an even worse state following earlier
punishment, many of the welts overlaid one upon another and turning a deep
purple colour. In a couple of places the soft buttocks were just beginning to
split open and blood had started to seep from the weals. The apprentice grinned
and patted the tortured globes. "Time to start on these again, my beauty" he
shouted at the dangling brunette. Through haggard eyes wet with tears, she saw
the bull-whip in his hands and let out a long, despairing wail.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! I C-CAN'T TAKE ANY M-MORE! P-PLEEEEEEEEASE!!
UH-UUUURRRGGGGHHHHH!!"

Her voice broke and she went into a bout of hysterical sobbing, hanging limply
from the restraining cuffs as her legs buckled beneath her.          

The youth was not at all concerned. Positioning himself a few feet from the
woman and gripping the handle tightly, he swung back his arm and brought the
bullwhip down with all his strength on the trembling, tortured posteriors.
"SWIIIIIISSSSHHHH - CRAAAAACCKK!!!"    

At once the purpling flesh split open where the tip of the whip had fallen. Once
more a hoarse shriek rent the air, adding to the hellish chorus of screams
echoing around the room. By the third stroke the bull-whipped brunette had
fainted; even at this early stage blood flowed from the lacerated flesh,
trickling down over the shapely calves and onto the tiled floor below.                

In fact, at quite frequent intervals a woman undergoing a beating would pass out
with the pain. This was not a problem as it gave the apprentices a chance to
rest their overworked arms; as soon as the woman rallied round the beating would
continue. If there was a long delay or the woman was thought to be feigning
unconsciousness, smelling salts were held under her nose to ensure her swift
revival. There was a lot of practice to get in and time-wasting was
unacceptable.  

Much as they had enjoyed watching the jiggling breasts and buttocks being slowly
and methodically shredded, it was time for the guests to move on. Along the
platform, Khaled led them to the far corner of the room. A long wooden breast
pillory was set up near to and facing the viewing platform, the device having a
line of ten holes cut out along it. The pillory was made in two halves bisecting
the line of holes; the top half could be raised to allow the breasts to be
placed in the bottom half of the cut-outs and they were then secured by lowering
the upper part and clamping the halves together. Five pairs of large, shapely
female breasts protruded through, the relatively small size of the holes
resulting in the base of each breast being so constricted that it was completely
impossible to pull them free. In fact, they were turning red or purple with the
pressure and, even before the young men started work on them had become
painfully swollen, resembling ten large juicy fruits on a shelf. It could be
seen that the women concerned were seated on chairs of some kind just to the
rear of the pillory; above the wooden beam five terrified, tear-stained faces
gazed back in apprehension at the watching men, whilst five pairs of shapely
knees and legs protruded beneath it. High heels were the only item of clothing
worn, whilst arms were cuffed behind backs and ankles cuffed together to further
restrict movement.

Khaled pointed out a drainage channel running beneath the seats on which the
women sat. Shouting to make himself heard above the cacophony of noise in the
rest of the room, he told the others that the seats were just rims. It was
normal for women involved in this area of activity to lose control of their
bowels as well as their bladders, and the open seats allowed any waste to be
swiftly and efficiently removed via the drainage channel, through which a
continuous stream of scented water flowed.                   

Harvey was surprised to see that just one apprentice was allocated to all five
women. However, in view of the regular intake of females there was never any
shortage, even though a number of them did not survive the extreme treatment
they were put through.

This particular young man, a pale, thin studious-looking youth in spectacles,
certainly did not give the impression of a trainee sadist. Appearances can be
deceptive. The youth fetched a device sprouting a mass of wires and began to set
it up. It was an electricity generator, from which ran five sets of twin cables
ending in vicious toothed clamps. Whistling to himself, the bespectacled youth
took the first pair of cables to the woman at the end of the row and, pulling
her nipple outwards, clamped the sharp teeth onto it. The jaws of the clamp had
a powerful spring. This was confirmed by the howl of pain from above the
pillory. The second clamp was similarly put in place and another scream rent the
air. "AAAAGGGHHHH! TAKE THEM OFF - IT HURTS! AAAAAAAHHHHHH! PLEASE - TAKE THEM
OFF!!"

The screams turned to tears, the clamped breasts heaving slightly within the
confines of the pillory in time to her wracking sobs. Satisfied that the clamps
were securely on, the youth moved down the line repeating the process to the
accompaniment of agonised screams and a great deal of crying. At last he
finished and stepped back to make a final check.

Watched by a white-coated instructor, he turned a dial on the top half a turn.
He pressed an adjacent button. At once a powerful current flowed through the
clamps. Five female heads were thrown back, five mouths opened wide and five
throats emitted full-bloodied shrieks as the shock went through the line of
clamped nipples. The apprentice let the current flow for a few seconds before
releasing the button. He spoke for the first time, his voice high-pitched and in
English but with a slight accent. "Did you enjoy that, ladies? That was only the
start - we will have lots of playtime together!"

The line of sobbing women were by now panicking. They pleaded with both the thin
youth and the watching guests to stop any further torture:
  
 "OH GOD - NO MORE...."
 "PLEEEEEASE - I CAN'T BEAR IT....."
 "STOP - FOR GOD'S SAKE - STOP - I BEG YOU - PLEEEEEASE!!...."
 "OOOOOOOOHHH - THE PAIN - YOU'LL KILL ME - UUUURRRGGHHH!!"                  
 "PLEASE - PLEASE - I'LL DO ANYTHING - HAVE MERCY - AAAAAGGGHHHHHH!!"

The pleas fell on deaf ears as always. Instead, the apprentice turned up the
dial one notch and once more pressed the button. A crackling noise came from the
nipple clamps and shrieks of pure agony erupted from the five luckless females.
As expected, two of them lost muscle control and their bowels emptied into the
drainage channel below, whilst a stream of urine jetted forth from another. The
youth held down the button for a few more seconds, wisps of smoke rising from
the clamps. The women shuddered and jerked helplessly in their restraints, high
heels drumming despairingly on the floor in a frenzied dance of agony, voices
beginning to crack as their howls of pain rose to a crescendo.

The bespectacled youth went across to inspect the line of clamped mammaries.
Mockingly, he encouraged the women to be, in his own words "brave ladies" as he
massaged and slapped the tortured orbs. "We're going to turn the current up in a
minute!" he chortled as his hands jerked the cables attached to a pair of
particularly superb breasts up and down, wringing an anguished cry from their
pretty owner. 

The group were fascinated by the scene before them, however the hours were
slipping by and it was time to continue the tour. With eardrums ringing and
erections stiffening at the continuous sound of female screams, the group made
their way along the walkway to where the next activity was taking place. A trio
of raised feminine posteriors greeted them, their owners bent over a long padded
bench and tethered by wrists and widely spread ankles. As usual high heels were
worn, this time along with another item of clothing - a discipline hood covering
the whole head, complete with ball gag and breathing tube, the open end of which
was held by the apprentice. The young men, standing one behind each woman, were
this time engaged in two simultaneous activities - orgasm control and muscle
relaxation. Each youth's erect organ was thrust deep into a woman's rectum,
sliding slowly back and forth as they learnt how to prolong their climax for the
greatest length of time to obtain maximum pleasure. As for the women, they had
to ensure that their anuses were at all times fully relaxed to the satisfaction
of those inside them - or the apprentices would merely place a thumb over the
end of the breathing tube, cutting off the air supply.

Glancing down, Harvey saw that on all three women both the nipples and labia had
been pierced and ringed, and from these hung four cords at the end if which
heavy weights hung. The weights swung gently with the rhythym of the youths'
thrusting penises, causing considerable pain. Of course, no protests or pleas
for mercy were possible due to the suffocating hoods and gags. The women could
do nothing other than accept this unwanted invasion of their most private parts,
try to relax under the threat of suffocation whilst at the same time keep as
still as possible to avoid the extra pain of the swinging weights. Despite their
predicament, these women appeared to be getting off lightly in comparison with
the rest.        
                    
One woman was at that time failing to relax her sphincter muscle enough to
please her penetrator. The tube had been sealed and she was frantically bucking
and writhing in panic as her oxygen supply cut off. The apprentice seemed to
enjoy the extra sensation provided by the woman's desperate struggles. Holding
one hand aloft, he imitated a rodeo contestant, "riding" the frantically
bouncing buttocks and yelling "YAAAA-HOO!" as his shaft jerked up and down in
the tight confines of the woman's rectum. The other apprentices and the
onlookers could not help but laugh at the sight. After a short time the youth
released his thumb, his victim taking great gasping gulps of air into the tube
and down into her bursting lungs. This seemed to give her the necessary
incentive to relax her bowels. The familiar rhythym restarted, the throbbing
penis once more began to slide in and out of the tight passage, and the covered
head shook with uncontrolled sobs inside it's leather prison.    

Another of the trio received similar treatment. Again the frenzied struggles,
the jiggling buttocks, the muffled gasps beneath the hood. The apprentice was in
no hurry to allow the woman to breathe this time. After a time her struggles
diminished, and she slowly lapsed into unconsciousness as she began to
suffocate. This of course resulted in her back passage fully relaxing, providing
her tormentor with the desired level of pleasure. He at last released his thumb,
thrusting back and forth with renewed vigour as she slowly began to regain
consciousness.   

The group were distracted by a commotion in the far corner. Moving round the
platform, an extraordinary sight met their eyes. A tall thick steel pole had
been set up from which six steel arms extended from around it's top like bicycle
spokes. From each arm hung a naked woman, by way of a kind of harness fixed
under her arms. Additional fixings to the ankles pulled the legs up and behind
each woman; arms were pulled around in front of their legs and tied together
behind their backs, thus leaving the women's private areas thrust forward and
totally exposed. The hub of the arms was driven by a hidden electric motor and
turned slowly so that the dangling woman rotated around the pole, completing a
full circuit about every minute.   

Each pair of gently swinging buttocks hung about a metre from floor level. At
one point the path of their circuit a type of barbeque had been set up,
containing an oblong-shaped bed of hot coals about two metres in length. As the
arms turned, each woman passed over the coals for a duration of roughly ten
seconds, her bottom and genitals only fractionally above the red-hot fire.

Six apprentices had each been allocated one woman to look after, their task to
ensure that the flesh was roasted as slowly and painfully as possible. To
assist, they were all supplied with soft brushes and oil for basting, and could
alter the distance between buttocks and coals by way of a block and tackle
arrangement incorporated in the securing harnesses. By pulling either of a pair
of strong cords hanging down behind each woman she could be raised or lowered
several inches.         
      
The contraption had only just begun to rotate as the six vaginas and six pairs
of buttocks did not yet show any real signs of exposure to the heat. At that
moment a beautiful blonde was just passing over the coals. Her pitiful shrieks
rang round the room. "AAAAAAAIIIIIYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"

Her demented screams went on and on even after she had completed her passage
over the heat. Harvey could see that even after just one circuit, the plump
buttocks and outer labia were already turning a deep pink in colour. The next
woman approached the heat. A striking, aristocratic face with long dark hair
stared wide-eyed in horror as she neared the glowing coals. Her apprentice
meanwhile crouched in front of her, carefully using his brush to coat the
vaginal area and the rounded nether cheeks with basting oil whilst the other
youths did likewise. The dark-haired beauty let out a panic-stricken howl.

"PLEASE - STOP - STOP - NO - YYYYYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!" She gave an
ear-splitting shriek as her most tender parts reached the heat and the slow
burning process began. Her bladder emptied, the liquid sizzling noisily as it
hit the coals. By the time she moved past the heat tray, she was almost out of
her mind with pain - and the roasting had only just begun!           


TO BE CONTINUED




The story of Harvey

Chapter 5

	The group of guests looked on silently as the six trussed and moaning
beauties slowly rotated on the device, the manner in which they were bound
thrusting their smooth-shaven pubic areas obscenely forward leaving them as
brutally exposed as it was possible to be.

	They circled helplessly, gently swaying in their harnesses, each woman
reduced to screaming agony as she passed inches above the hot bed of coals. The
well-basted buttocks and genitals were seared by heat way beyond the pain
thresholds of the women as the soft flesh slowly roasted during the brief period
they were suspended over the glowing fire.

	The apprentices laughed and shouted comments to each other as they
waited with their basting brushes for "their" woman to pass in front of them.
Liberal quantities of oil were applied onto and between the tightly stretched
buttocks, whilst particular care was taken to give the bald pubic mound and
vaginal area a good coating to avoid damage. The whole point of the exercise
after all was to ensure maximum pain without long-term disfigurement wherever
possible.

	A white-coated instructor kept a watchful eye on the tortured buttocks
and genitals as they passed before him. Now and then he stepped forward and
inspected the flesh for scorching, squeezing the lower curves of the buttocks or
the outer labia to confirm his suspicions. The parts in question were by this
time turning a bright red. Should the flesh actually start to singe, he would
tell the apprentice concerned to raise the woman a few inches further above the
coals using the pulley arrangement.

	A shapely beauty with long, auburn hair was just being oiled ready for
her next pass over the griddle when she completely and utterly lost all
self-control. She jerked and writhed uncontrollably in her harness - a futile
exercise in view of the almost total restriction of movement - and went into a
wild-eyed frenzy. Throwing her head from side to side, she howled and gibbered
in demonic fashion as a mix of drool and tears ran down her face and dripped
from her chin. Shrieks of pure hysteria assailed Harvey's ears as he looked on
in astonishment at the outburst. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NO MORE!!
YYYYIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!! HELP ME - HELP ME-EEEEEE!! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
PLEEEEEEEEASE!! NO MORE - PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!! STOP - STOP - UUUURRRGGGGGHHHHH -
AAAAGGGHHHHHHH!!! I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

       The apprentice looking after her laughed as he completed the basting and
gave the bald pubic mound an affectionate pat. "Lady make lots more noise soon!"
he chuckled in a thick accent. Screaming insanely, she slowly continued on her
way round to the grill; soon she was indeed making lots more noise - howls of
pure agony assailed the ears of the onlookers as once more the delicate flesh of
her nether regions sizzled over the red-hot coals.

       Spellbound, the group watched the slowly circling procession of frantic,
shrieking females for a few minutes more. Khaled, their guide glanced at his
watch and suggested that as time was getting on they should move round to the
far corner of the huge room, where a few more women were being attended to. In a
way Harvey was glad, as the piercing screams were becoming slightly painful on
the ears.

	The men trooped across to where more activities were taking place. It
was slightly less noisy here, although the high-pitched yells continued to echo
loudly around the walls of the great chamber as the apprentices continued their
ruthless ministrations.

	Before them was a line of what looked like largish, square stools made
from chromed steel and heavy duty plastic, with tubular steel arms at each side.
Upon each sat a semi-naked female, all of whom were dressed in similar apparel.
Firstly, the regulation black patent skyscraper stiletto heels. Secondly, a
shiny black rubber hood with apertures at the eyes and two small holes beneath
the nostrils, tightly zipped at the back and completely enclosing the head like
a second skin. Although a hole was provided at the mouth it was filled by a
large rubber ball gag buckled tightly behind the head. Thirdly, a thick black
leather collar with a high front piece which forced the head up and back at an
extreme and most uncomfortable angle. Finally a tight, wide leather waist belt
from the rear centre of which a half-inch wide leather strap ran down to
disappear into the deep valley between the buttocks.

	A pair of thin wires ran from under the stool to a small indicator fixed
to a stand behind and above the head of each woman, and on which a digital
number was illuminated. These were currently lit with numbers ranging from nil
to five.

	The female figures, of which Harvey counted eight, were fastened by
ankle cuffs affixed to the stool legs, and wrist cuffs likewise to the tubular
arms. It was seen that the seated women were squirming and bouncing frantically
on the stools, all appearing to be in a state of extreme distress.

	By way of explanation Khaled first beckoned the group to the far corner
where a spare stool reposed, identical to those currently occupied. He showed
his audience the big, shiny metal dildo screwed into a fitting in the centre of
the rigid polypropylene seat. He also showed them the connection via fine wires
from the digital display to the underside of the stool and from there up into
the dildo. He explained that the dildos contained tiny electronic sensors. The
sensors could detect a female orgasm, upon which an electronic message would be
sent to the display unit. Thus the number of orgasms achieved would be
constantly updated on the small screen, the use of the sensors ensuring there
could be no "faking".

	Khaled gave the guests more information. He told them that this corner
of the chamber was in fact set aside for the apprentices' recreation rather than
serious training. The objective was to force the women to achieve the maximum
number of orgasms within a specified timescale, normally one hour. It was
customary for each apprentice to contribute to a "draw", the one handling the
top-scoring woman taking the prize money.

	He went on to add that a couple of incentives were provided to help them
in their efforts. Firstly, the leather girth straps running between their legs
incorporated tiny clitoral stimulators, vibrating discs powered by minute
batteries to keep them sexually aroused. Secondly, each woman's allocated
apprentice helped her by use of a cane across the back or bottom. As he
explained this to his audience, Khaled waved a hand towards the line of grinning
young men behind the stools, wearing nothing but the black leather pouches that
comprised their "uniform". Erections straining the tight pouches, they kept a
close watch on their charges, the thin, whippy canes poised in their hands ready
to ensure there was no slackening. The bouncing, quaking posteriors were prime
targets as the apprentices spurred them to greater effort in the chase for the
prize money on offer.

	Harvey and his colleagues also learnt there was another incentive for
the women. Not only were they required to put maximum effort into their work on
the dildos, but in addition the two with the least number of orgasms at the end
of the session were destined for a journey to the palace laboratory. This was a
place of unspeakable horrors of which just a hint had been enough to ensure that
all the women tried desperately to avoid such a fate. As the display screens
were out of their line of sight, they had no way of knowing how well they were
doing and could only try their hardest to achieve the highest possible number of
orgasms.

	The onlookers moved in to look closely at the eight bucking, quivering
females. On closer inspection it was obvious some were nearly exhausted through
their constant efforts to climax. With heads forced back by the collars they
gazed at the ceiling, tear-filled eyes peering out in desperation from inside
the rubber hoods. Anguished sobbing could be heard beneath the gags as again and
again they wearily clenched and unclenched their dancing buttocks, breasts
quivering and heaving with effort, vaginas stretched and sore from the continual
movement on the slick, rigid dildos. A large timer was built into the ceiling
where the women could see how long the session had run; the luminous green
display changed at one minute intervals. Despite the suffering of the women less
than thirty minutes had gone by since the exercise began - they had not even
reached the half-way stage.

	They moved behind the line to inspect them from the rear. It was an
arousing sight. Each shapely back narrowed to a slim waist, then flared at the
hips into a pair of soft, plump buttocks. Thin red lines covered the flesh,
testimony to the enthusiasm of the apprentices; every few seconds one would
deliver a further stinging blow as a woman began to tire. The quaking globes
wobbled and bounced incessantly upon the stools, contracting and relaxing in a
bizarre rhythym. Most were glistening and shiny with moisture between the cheeks
where lubricant had spread from the tightly filled hole in front. A chorus of
strangled sobs, gasps and moans accompanied the scene, and Harvey had difficulty
in keeping his hand away from his throbbing erection at the sight of all this
helpless, pain-wracked femininity performing its frenzied, jiggling dance.

	A buzzer suddenly sounded. Harvey glanced at the clock and saw that half
an hour had elapsed since the session began - the mid-way point had been
reached. Khaled waved his guests to the front of the line. "My friends, look
carefully at what happens next" he said with a smile. All the apprentices now
laid down their canes and came around to the front of the stools. In a
well-practised movement they knelt and released two clips at the base. Grasping
the women's calves, each of them levered his stool, complete with its occupant,
backwards. The stools were hinged across the bottom of the rear legs and easily
tipped back to a 60 degree angle. Each woman's hooded head went down behind the
level of their body until it hit a small, soft cushioning pad placed in a marked
spot on the floor. Sixteen shapely ankles lifted up to and then past the
horizontal, spiked heels pointing helplessly at the onlookers. Each apprentice
then swiftly released four more clips at the corners of the stool's plastic seat
and, gripping the it tightly, pulled it slowly but firmly towards him. The eight
seats, complete with attached dildos, came away to leave the naked loins framed
erotically in the squares of tubular steel now facing the onlookers. The dildos
glistened, wet and shiny from the long spell inside the women's bodies.

	They all stared at the naked thighs and buttocks, gently quivering as
their inverted owners trembled with fear and exhaustion; Harvey felt the
familiar throbbing as his erection stiffened again. They looked even more
intently at the sore and distended sex lips of various shapes and sizes, soaked
with both lubricant jelly and natural fluids.

	The leather strap under the crotch of each woman divided in two between
anus and vagina, the two narrow strips pulled tight each side of the outer
labia. They rejoined at the clitoris, at which point the unseen vibrating disc
was fitted into a tiny pouch of fine material sewn inside the leather. The
effect of the straps encircling the labia was to push the lips together, but at
the same time the dildo would have forced them apart, the resulting constriction
causing what must have been considerable pain.

	At that moment a white-coated inspector came over. One by one he peered
closely at the wet and glistening vaginas so helplessly and humiliatingly
exposed to view. He reached out and carefully checked the tightness of the girth
straps. He tugged at the crinkly folds of the labia and thrust two fingers deep
inside each sticky channel. Finally he returned to number six who led with five
orgasms. Feeling inside her once more, he grimaced, shook his head
disapprovingly and entered a few notes on his clipboard. Instructions were given
to the apprentice who went across to a nearby cupboard, smiling knowingly.

	Khaled translated for the group. "This female is oversexed and can
achieve orgasms too easily" he told them. "She is to be fitted with a number two
girth strap to increase the level of difficulty". Before Harvey could ask an
obvious question, it was answered by the return of the apprentice carrying the
girth strap. Upon inspection, it was clear that the discomfort level would be
far exceeded once the number two strap was fitted. The twin straps surrounding
the vagina were cut in a serrated pattern; the sharp leather points would cause
considerable pain as they dug into the soft flesh of the labia - and the
insertion of the dildo would make this pain much, much worse.

	The apprentice deftly unhooked the strap at the front and rear of the
waist belt and eased it away. The new strap was hooked onto the front and pulled
tightly between the buttocks, the serrated leather carefully positioned either
side of the vaginal lips. A final firm tug at the back forced the strap up taut
between the cheeks, and the rear hook was fastened to the accompaniment of a
muffled shriek of pain. The woman bucked wildly in her bonds in a frenzied
attempt to break free - it was however totally futile. Harvey could see the
sharp points digging into the tender lips and could only guess at the agony the
woman would suffer by the re-insertion of the dildo.

	For the second half of the session the degree of difficulty was
increased for the luckless women as the dildos were unscrewed and swiftly
replaced by larger ones. The length was not impossible to accommodate, but the
diameter was much larger than an erect penis. Even under normal circumstances
these would stretch the women to the limits; the girth straps would make the
pain virtually intolerable. As for number six, the serrated strap would be sheer
hell and Harvey wondered how on earth she would even be able to move, let alone
achieve orgasms.

	The apprentices were not interested in number six' problems, nor those
of the others. They were concerned only with getting their woman into the lead
in order to win the prize money. Without further ado, they liberally coated the
dildos with lubricant jelly and repositioned the seats, carefully ensuring the
metal shafts were correctly placed between the labia. Slowly but firmly, they
were pushed back into place and locked. From under the rubber hoods came stifled
screams as the dildos slid home and the women's most tender flesh was crushed
into the leather of the straps. Their bodies bucked and writhed in their bonds
and the rubber-clad heads shook frantically as they fought to no avail to escape
the unbearable pain. Neither the inspector nor the apprentices showed the least
concern at their suffering, the latter laughing and joking as they swapped lewd
comments and mock insults with each other. Women in terrible pain were just a
normal part of the job to them.

	The chairs were quickly hauled upright and locked into place, the
apprentices once more taking up position behind the quaking globes. Sharp taps
with the cane reminded the women of the fact that they had work to do. Totally
distraught, wracked with sobs, one by one they slowly began to move on the
dildos. The red, shapely posteriors contracted and relaxed, contracted and
relaxed as the combination of metal shaft and girth strap inflicted levels of
pain way above anything they could bear. It was almost impossible to carry on -
but they had no choice if they wished to avoid the cane's blows, some of which
were now falling harder in order to encourage the most reluctant ones to speed
up. Inhuman noises came from behind the gags as they somehow began to get into a
rythymn, even though the pain between their legs was by now unbearable. The
guests were impressed by the fortitude of number six; despite stifled howls of
pure agony, she somehow regained a slow but steady movement demonstrating that
she had plenty of courage despite her intense suffering.

	Soon the plump buttocks were juddering and jiggling nicely once more in
spite of the extreme pain, which at one point was so severe it caused two women
in succession to pass out. Before long number four was approaching her third
orgasm of the session. The soft, white posteriors bounced faster and faster on
the stool as the climax neared, stifled moans coming from under the hood as the
woman jerked and twitched in her bonds. She orgasmed with a prolonged shudder as
her apprentice gave her a couple more firm strokes across the soft cheeks for
good measure; a red light appeared on the display, the digital number changing
from two to three. The woman sagged down onto the stool exhausted, her
apprentice, pleased at her efforts, kissing the rubber-clad head and whispering
words of encouragement in her ear. The show of affection did not last long.
Moments later the cane whipped across her behind yet again, adding to the many
weals. There was no time for rest! Sobbing hysterically and in a state of
extreme fatigue, she somehow began again... up... down... up... down...
bounce... bounce... wriggle... bounce... it was too much - but there was no
choice...

	The group watched in fascination at the sight of the eight exhausted
women trying to orgasm over and over again, some more successfully than others,
all with the encouragement of the enthusiastic apprentices and all by now crying
uncontrollably - although in enforced near-silence. With fifteen minutes still
to go, some of the women were on the verge of collapse, groaning pitifully
beneath the gags as they slowly and wearily slid their bodies up and down the
slippery surface of the unyielding metal. Shouts of encouragement from the
excited young men at the rear, coupled with powerful cutting strokes from the
canes helped them to concentrate on the job in hand. They wept copiously, eight
pairs of eyes forced skywards and red-rimmed with tears whilst the gags
functioned successfully, allowing only faint gurgling moans to escape from the
open, drooling mouths they filled.

	As the last few minutes ticked by, it was evident that numbers two and
seven were destined for the dreaded laboratory. Achieving only one orgasm each,
they were absolutely finished, unable to maintain any regular movement on their
dildos even though their backs and behinds were red-raw from the beatings they
had received.

	Their eyes glazed over as they reached the point where their exertions
had all but rendered them unconscious, breasts heaving and bodies trembling
violently. Suddenly a buzzer sounded. It was all over! The inspector stood in
front of the luckless pair in turn and, looking down into their upturned,
despairing eyes, pointed meaningfully at each. A hoarse wail of terror was heard
from behind the gag of number two whilst number seven merely closed her eyes in
resignation, too shattered to respond.

	Once again the stools of the unfortunate pair were tipped and the dildos
removed. Their size had distended the two red-raw vaginas quite considerably
despite the restriction of the girth straps, and some of the guests examined
them closely whilst their owners remained strapped on the stools. The seats were
then replaced once more minus the dildos, and the chairs unbolted from the floor
and lifted complete with their occupants onto a low, four-wheeled trolley. With
one apprentice pulling a handle at the front and another helping to push behind,
the weeping captives were trundled away to... what?

	On the other hand, number six had, despite her terrible handicap,
achieved the most orgasms - nine in all. Her delighted apprentice patted, kissed
and cuddled her, congratulating her on her performance and grinning smugly at
his colleagues. She was in no state to appreciate the praise lavished on her.
She could do nothing - she sat, totally spent on her stool. Her breasts lifted
and fell as she tried desperately to take sufficiently deep breaths through the
small nostril holes in the suffocating hood. Once her stool was tipped and the
seat removed, it could be seen that her vaginal lips were like two strips of raw
liver between the serrated straps. What did provoke comment among the guests was
that, when the strap was unbuckled and removed, the clitoris was seen to be very
prominent indeed, like a tiny penis. Pink and sore from its exertions, the
little organ poked out stiffly from it's protective hood, testimony to both the
effectiveness of the stimulator and the woman's own sensuality.

	The five remaining seats were tipped, the seats, dildos and girth straps
removed. Khaled indicated the line of helplessly exposed females in their
humiliating posture and handed out small multi-stranded whips to the guests.
"Help yourself to some personal pleasure, gentlemen!" he chuckled, "These are
just the things to keep our ladies screaming!"

	A number of the men needed no second invitation, and were soon thrashing
the raw, inflamed labia with great gusto. It was a fine end to what had been a
very enjoyable experience for all - except of course the bound and gagged
beauties writhing in agony in front of them.

	Eventually the whipping stopped and the apprentices prepared to release
the women, all of whom had by now either fainted from pain or were in a state of
semi-consciousness. Khaled asked if they wished to visit the laboratory. "You
will need strong stomachs, my friends!" he said with a knowing smile. They
agreed that such a visit would round off the day and trooped out of the enormous
room, leaving behind a cacophony of noise from the dozens of demented, shrieking
females still "assisting" the apprentices with their training...


To be continued.........

Cade - The Story of Harvey




			The Story of Harvey - part 6



The sun shone down relentlessly upon the shimmering sands of the desert. The
sparse vegetation wilted in the scorching temperature and the ancient rocks
scattered across the undulating landscape were like fire to the touch. A few
nomads and travellers braving the barren wilderness trudged wearily on their
way, heads bowed in the oppressive heat. It would seem that few would choose to
live in this inhospitable corner of the world.       

There was one however for whom this was an ideal place to call home. The
undisputed and, some would say despotic ruler of the tiny, little-known but
oil-rich kingdom that went quietly about it's business and kept out of the
headlines often created by bigger Arab countries.

The Sheikh was rich. Very, very rich. Rich enough to live  however he chose.
Rich enough to live in supreme comfort in a desert palace boasting every luxury,
but at the same time rejecting a "normal" lifestyle in keeping with his
position.

For the Sheikh had an obsession. This obsession involved attractive ladies, and
it involved extreme cruelty. And the combination of wealth, absolute power and
isolation gave the Sheikh the freedom to indulge his strange fantasies to the
full.

Desert heat was not a problem within the Sheikh's luxurious palace. The whole
complex was air-conditioned throughout and built to be totally self-sustainable
throughout the seasons. Some way from the main buildings was the generator room,
constantly producing the electricity needed to keep the palace functioning.
Harvey and his companions had been invited to inspect the premises, having been
assured by their guide Khaled that they would find it interesting as the Sheikh
used a very unusual power source for the generators. He used women.

They made their way to a long, white-painted single story building with no
windows. A steel door slid open at the touch of a button. The first of Harvey's
senses to react was that of sound; there was the loud hum of cooling equipment,
the whirring of electrical switchgear, and the moans of females in distress.
Lighting levels were relatively low but sufficient. What was most noticeable
though was the heat inside the building. Even though air-conditioning was
operating, the temperature and humidity were uncomfortably high.   

A walkway ran the length of the building adjacent to each wall, along one of
which Khaled now led his guests. The walkway was sunk about half a metre below
ground level. Alongside on the main floor area a number of lightweight aluminium
pillories about a metre long were set on steel posts, through each of which
protruded a woman's head. The two halves locked together preventing the head
from being retracted. Unlike a normal pillory arrangement the wrists were not
imprisoned in the same way, but merely tethered by short chains which ran
between the crossbeam and a pair of wrist cuffs.

A well padded narrow platform bolted just below the neck hole ran the length of
the pillory and afforded a degree of comfort, as both head and arms could rest
on this support.

The lowered walkway meant that the heads were at eye-level with the onlookers;
Harvey counted six in all. Each head was fully enclosed within a tight black
rubber hood, cut away only at the nostrils and around the mouth. Small radio
receivers in each ear doubled as earplugs, thus depriving the wearers of sound
as well as sight. Immediately in front of the mouth was the end of a length of
small plastic tubing running from a container of drinking water mounted on a
nearby stand.

From their position the guests could see that the women's bodies, which were
held in a bent-over position, appeared to be encased in the same suffocating
black rubber - but not quite. Their breasts were pushed through twin holes in
the front of the suits, each tightly bound at the base with a strong rubber
strap to which a cord was attached. This cord ran from one strap, down through a
small ring set somewhere below and back up to the other strap. The breasts were
thus held in tight restraint, rendering any movement of the upper body area
painful in the extreme. Harvey was quite astonished that the women were made to
wear the stifling rubber suits in such an environment; he realised that the loss
of body fluid through perspiration meant that the constant water supply was
vital.

All the women appeared to be gasping or panting with exhaustion, and Harvey
guessed that they had recently completed some arduous task. The heads shook and
quivered with fatigue and an undulating chorus of groans and whimpering,
interspersed with bouts of sobbing greeted them as they filed along the line.   
        
Khaled told the guests that these women formed part of a newish batch, a mix of
Europeans and Americans freshly lured to the palace with bogus adverts promising
rich rewards for work in modelling and fashion or other business opportunities.
Well-educated ladies carefully selected for their sophistication, good looks and
superb figures, they were now having to come to terms with the unpalatable fact
that they would have to endure their present predicament for the remainder of
their lives. Harvey could only speculate on how long this would be. 

The group learnt that the women were made to work for two hours at a time, with
thirty minutes rest between sessions (they were in fact in the middle of one of
these rest periods). This was judged to be the most efficient work/rest ratio;
anything more arduous and they would be unable to continue through sheer
exhaustion. Unfortunately, many were unable to maintain this punishing schedule
in the stifling heat of the rubber suits, and encouragement was frequently
needed. The listening men wondered what exactly the task was, but guessed that
"encouragement" in this context meant the inflicting of considerable pain on the
luckless females.

Each day at sunset, or if incapacitated the women were taken to the "recovery
room", a separate dormitory where uninterrupted sleep was allowed during the
night. One hour first thing each morning was set aside for feeding and washing
by staff specially assigned to these duties. However, the person now introduced
to the group by Khaled was in overall charge of the women and described as their
personal attendant. Her name was Helga; a tall, thin middle-aged white woman
with cruel hawk-like features. She smiled at the guests and gave a polite
greeting in a pronounced German accent, but her eyes remained cold. More than
one guest concluded from her looks that she must be both a lesbian and a sadist.
Helga wore a white cotton blouse with black trousers and black knee-length boots
- hardly suitable for this heat, thought Harvey. A belt at her waist held a
two-way radio linked to each of the captives' earpieces; through this she could
instruct the women either individually or all together. There was also a small
black box connected to a metal probe on a length of curled flex. Harvey realised
that Helga must be responsible for providing any necessary "encouragement" and
knew that such a probe was designed to give electric shocks from very mild to
near-fatal. It was all a matter of preference.

There was a second person sitting nearby, an elderly male. "A lecherous old
bastard by the look of it" thought Harvey to himself as he glanced at the Arab's
dark-skinned, wrinkled face and the grinning mouth which lacked more than a few
teeth.

Further details were forthcoming from the guide. Moving next to  the nearest
woman, he pointed out that her hand was sufficiently free to reach a small
button fixed on the beam. This alerted the attendant to the fact that a woman
needed to relieve herself, be it liquid or solid waste. This is where Abdul, the
gapped-tooth one came in; he found pleasure in carrying out such chores. He
would bring appropriate vessels to catch the waste and ensure the women were
fastidiously cleaned, washed and powdered afterwards. Harvey reflected that this
process must be especially degrading for them to endure. It was essential though
that they did not leave it late to consider their bodily needs, as they were
allowed to go only during rest periods. Woe betide any who had an accident
whilst working. 

While Khaled was speaking, the woman concerned suddenly sensed the presence of
the men. Although weak with exhaustion, she desperately attempted to make
contact.

"W-Who is it? P-please help me-I can't take any m-more! W-Who's there? Will
somebody help me? Whoever you are-please let me go-get me away from here-I'll do
anything-please-PLEEEEASE!" Her voice rose to a hysterical wail and she broke
off, unable to continue, and began weeping uncontrollably. Tears rolled down the
inside of the rubber hood, adding to the sheen of perspiration already there. 

"Please forgive this ridiculous outburst!" said Helga to Khaled and his guests.
"I will make sure she learns to hold her tongue!" She patted the rubber-clad
head with mock affection but otherwise took no action for now. Khaled suggested
they move to the rear of the women. "My friends" he said with a smile, "I have
no doubt you are most curious to learn how our ladies perform their task!"
Harvey, like all the others was indeed intrigued to know exactly what was
required of the six captive females. The group reached the end of the building
where the walkway crossed to the other side, allowing them to retrace their
steps behind the women. Each was bent over an adjustable, padded saddle-like
device, it's sides curving upwards to ensure the occupant was securely held. The
height-adjustable pad beneath each woman's stomach forced each shapely back into
a concave curve with hindquarters elevated high in the air. Harvey now saw that
the restraining devices were actually a single unit. The pillory stand curved to
a horizontal plane at just above floor level, and up again to form the holding
saddle. The breast ring was mounted on this tubular frame and the whole thing
had additional steel outriggers on which were small tyred wheels, enabling the
unit and it's restrained occupant to be conveniently wheeled in and out of the
building.

As the guests had rightly concluded, the womens' bodies were almost totally
encased in skin-tight, shiny black rubber that clung to them like a second skin.
However, not only the breasts were left unconstrained by the rubber. Once the
men reached the rear walkway, it was seen that all the suits had a cut-out oval
between the base of the spine and the top of the thighs, ensuring the womens'
intimate areas were totally exposed. A light-hearted addition of a delicate
white lace frill around the edge of the cut-out contrasted with the harsh black
rubber, and accentuated the femininity of the jutting posteriors framed in the
oval. Naturally, the feet were locked into black patent court shoes with
skyscraper high spiked heels which were compulsory attire for all captive
females inside the palace. Again, the depression in the walkway afforded a
convenient eye-level view of the line of helpless, upthrust hemispheres which
quivered enticingly inches from the faces of the fascinated onlookers.
 
The guests looked along the line taking in the scene before them and, with
Khaled providing the commentary, now understood what was required of the
captives. Their spike-heeled feet had to push down on a pair of iron treadles,
one treadle lifting as it's partner was depressed. These were attached to rods
running down beneath the floor which, by a system of belts and gearing, rotated
a steel shaft running the length of the building. This in turn produced via a
generator enough electrical power to run the facilities within the Sheikh's
palace (a petrol-driven generator was available as a back-up if the need arose).
Although the system was somewhat antiquated in design and construction, it
worked perfectly satisfactorily especially with the abundance of "pedal power"
to drive it. However, the position the women were held in, with their raised
hindquarters limiting the amount of leverage their legs could exert, made it
extremely difficult for them to operate the treadles for any length of time
before aching calf and thigh muscles became a severe problem.
        
Suddenly, a buzzer sounded. It was time to continue! The attendant rose from her
seat, flicked a switch on her radio and gave a curt command. Almost in unison,
the six women pushed a shapely leg wearily down onto it's treadle. The other
treadle moved upwards as the first was depressed, and the slow but relentless
rhythm began. Up....down....up....down....up.... down....up....down went the
treadles accompanied by the muffled creaks and clanks of hidden machinery, as
six pairs of already aching legs resumed their endless marching on the spot in
the production of electrical power for the palace.     

The group strolled along the rear walkway. Shapely upthrust buttocks jiggled
helplessly before their eyes as the women forced the treadles up and down. The
minutes passed. From the front came the occasional sound of sobbing or groaning
as the stringent effort once more took it's toll. Now and then a woman would beg
tearfully for release from her predicament, which of course was a futile
gesture. No amount of crying and pleading would make the slightest difference to
their plight.    

Harvey moved closer to the rear of the nearest woman, the one who had pleaded
with them some time earlier. A laminated information card proclaimed her to be a
Miss Valerie Carter-Finch, a successful 24 year old London fashion designer. A
small photograph of her face affixed to the card showed a smiling, confident and
very attractive young lady with long blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders.
Now she wanted to die. She had lost all hope, shoulders heaving as she sobbed
silently into her hood, rubber-clad legs in stiletto heels trembling with
fatigue as they worked the iron treadles. The quivering moons framed in their
circle of delicate lace were inches from Harvey's face, each  shiny with
perspiration and exuding the scent of expensive perfume mixed with natural
odours. As had happened so often over the last few hours, he felt his erection
hardening with the pleasures on show before him. Deep between the wobbling
posteriors the tight puckered ring of Ms Carter-Finch's anus could just be seen,
and below it the crinkled lips of the smooth-shaven vagina performed their own
little dance as the long legs rose and fell.

Harvey was by now feeling clammy with the heat inside the building, and could
only guess how unbearably hot the women must be inside the suits as they wearily
pushed their aching, perspiring limbs against the treadles.

More time passed. Up...down...up...down...up...down......the shuddering globes
wobbled and bounced erotically in their rubber and lace frames, the guests
wandering up and down the walkway to closely inspect each pair in turn. Some
moved to the other side to watch the womens' suffering, preferring to experience
their moans and tears at close quarters. Meanwhile Helga kept a watchful eye on
things, ready to make use of the dreaded probe should it be necessary.

Alison Hoffman had been up to recent weeks a dynamic junior executive in an
up-and-coming I.T. company based in Los Angeles. Promoted rapidly, admired for
her drive and ability to open up new markets, she had at the age of 27 a bright
future in her field of expertise - especially with the additional assets of
striking looks and a body to die for. That was before the opportunity arose to
visit the small, middle-eastern state that little was known about. Alison was
slightly puzzled over the telephone call from the civil servant calling on
behalf of the ministry, requesting face to face discussions with a view to his
country using the expertise of her organisation. However, sensing a potentially
lucrative deal, she had immediately arranged to fly out. The rest was a blur. A
drugged coffee, then waking up to find herself in hell - or something akin to
it.      

Alison Hoffman, successful businesswoman, now wept uncontrollably as she felt
the remaining strength in her legs evaporating fast. How long had she been in
this nightmarish situation? Two weeks? Three? It was hard to think straight; she
knew only pain and suffering now. Her strength was failing...she had to stop
soon......oh God, not the probe again, she couldn't stand that level of pain one
more time. The shapely brunette tried to keep up the punishing pace demanded of
her - tried her utmost. Up-down-up-down went her rubber-clad legs. Nearly
fainting within the confines of the rubber suit, her body wet with perspiration.
Up-down-up-down-up-down. She briefly thought of her naked rear framed in that
stupid frilly cut-out, bouncing around as she marched on the treadles.
Everything on show for that evil bitch of a dyke to play with. The
humiliation....Oh God....she sobbed beneath the hood, tears streaming from her
unseeing eyes. In despair, she knew her legs were giving up on her.....she must
have rest...must....."HOFFMAN!!" came a sharp voice in her earpiece. "You are
not trying hard enough! You need a sharp lesson!" It was the voice of Helga.

Harvey and the other men gathered round the businesswoman to watch her
punishment as the attendant undid the probe from her belt. The middle-aged woman
placed a finger and thumb either side of the plump buttocks and, with a smile of
cruel anticipation to the watching men, spread them wide.  Alison Hoffman was by
now beyond despair. "NO-OOOOOOOOOOO-PLEEEEEASE!!" she shrieked hysterically,
thrashing in her bonds. "I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE PAIN!! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!! OH
GOD-NO MORE-PLEEEEEEASE!!" The merciless woman behind her was not at all
concerned at her outburst. She swiftly pushed the probe against the brutally
exposed anus and with a smile of anticipation, pressed a button on the handle.

"AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" The businesswoman screamed in agony as a powerful
shock pulsed through the sensitive membrane. The posteriors bounced and shook
frantically with a life all of their own. Her breasts felt as though they would
be ripped off by the restraining straps as she thrashed about in pain. After a
few seconds, Helga turned off the current and after replacing the probe on her
belt, picked up the radio to address the other, who was almost on the verge of
blacking out. "You will continue within thirty seconds!" came the voice of the
lesbian through the earpiece. "There will be no further slacking, Hoffman!"

Sobbing her heart out, her body shaking with the trauma of the electric shock,
Alison Hoffman, succesful business executive, desperately tried to ignore her
aching leg muscles and, slowly but surely, resumed her rhythmic march of pain
and suffering. She must carry on...she must...anything to avoid the probe!
Up...down...up...down...She also tried to ignore the probing fingers of the
lesbian sadist as her private areas were casually explored. Hatred mingled with
the pain as she strove to put her aching limbs out of her mind. It was the
hatred that kept her going...one day she might get her revenge...one day...but
in the meantime she was nothing but this woman's toy. She shed further tears of
anguish and frustration as her spiked heels pushed at the treadles. As they
would continue to do for as long as she remained alive.       


The next chapter will describe further time spent in the generator room.  




The Story of Harvey - chapter 7

The minutes ticked by in the generator room, until an hour had passed since the
"shift" had begun for the six luckless women toiling on the treadles. Most were
by now reaching a crisis point in terms of their ability to carry on; the
stifling heat which discouraged physical effort for any length of time was
taking it's toll. Bodies drenched in perspiration in the confines of the rubber
suits, they desperately needed to rest their aching leg and thigh muscles. Added
to this physical torment was the mental anguish of knowing that Helga could use
the dreaded probe on them at any time - apart from the humiliation of having
their  intimate parts presented, not only to her but to anyone else who cared to
look. Helga had of course informed them beforehand that a number of male guests
were on a "sight-seeing" visit and that their private areas would be closely
inspected over the next couple of hours or so.

Every so often a strained and tearful voice would be heard begging for a few
moments rest. Such pleas were a waste of energy as they were either ignored, or
would result in a stern rebuke through the headphones from Helga with a warning
that any reduction in effort would result in immediate punishment.

Meanwhile, the guests wandered freely along the length of the building taking in
the erotic sights and sounds on offer, both to the front and rear of the
rubber-clad beauties. The wide sunken walkway, giving the visitors an eye level
view of the womens' thighs and buttocks was ideal for studying their vaginas,
with labia of varying shapes and sizes peeping from between the churning thighs.
As a bonus, if a woman failed to remember to keep her buttocks clenched (and
most were past caring by now), this often resulted in a tantalising glimpse of
the little puckered ring between.

There was no need for the visitors to keep one eye on the clock; they had
already been informed that they could spend as long as they liked here. There
was a contented, relaxed atmosphere amongst the group. As they strolled from one
woman to another, or stopped for a few minutes for close inspection of a
particular favourite, they were brought cool drinks on the instructions of
Khaled, their guide. There could not have been a greater contrast than that of
the male guests at their ease and thoroughly enjoying the sights on show, and of
the suffering women toiling before them. Whilst the men drained the glasses,
Khaled reached into his pocket and produced a note. "My friends" he said,
raising his voice above the noise of the machinery and clicking heels, "I have
an announcement to make!" He told them that the Sheikh in his generosity had
selected six of them who would be granted a very special favour. He read out the
names; Harvey's was one. Intrigued, he wondered just what the favour was.

The remaining guests, looking slightly disappointed, were led from the building
by a different guide to visit another attraction. Harvey heard the guide mention
the laboratory, a place previously described by Khaled as not for the
faint-hearted.  He guessed that he and his five companions would also be taken
on a tour of this place - hell on earth for the women sent there - later on.

Meanwhile, the six chosen by the Sheikh watched a couple of youthful servants
position tubular steel chairs in the walkway behind each woman. The chairs were
custom built with hydraulic telescopic legs which, when the sitter pumped a
handle on the side, could be raised to a maximum of almost a metre above the
lowered position. This enabled each occupant to sit directly at eye level with
the naked buttocks framed in their oval of delicate lace.  

Khaled offered Harvey a chair behind the fourth woman in the line. Thanking the
smiling guide, he glanced at the small card showing her photograph. A woman of
around thirty he guessed, dark-haired with high cheekbones and aquiline features
including the most attractive large, hazel eyes. Her aristocratic face left
Harvey with the impression that she came from a wealthy upper-class background.
His eyes skimmed her personal details on the card - his hunch was right. To his
surprise and pleasure he read that she was Lady Caroline Beauchamp, the
twenty-eight year old daughter of an English Earl and Countess. In her early
twenties he remembered her as a media favourite for a short time, her photograph
appearing in many newspapers and magazines when snapped at social functions
where the "beautiful people" tended to congregate. However, her parents had
divorced in acrimonious circumstances and over the years their daughter had
drifted away from high society, eventually going off alone to see the world -
including the obscure desert kingdom over which ruled the Sheikh. When a chance
meeting with one of his men gave her the opportunity to visit this mysterious
ruler, how could she have known it would end like this? Condemned to a life of
torment in this place, with death seeming a happy release.

Harvey settled himself in the comfortable chair and pumped the small lever at
the side. Slowly the four tubular legs rose smoothly from their outer casings.
The chair seat inched its way upwards until the lower curves of Lady Beauchamps'
undulating buttocks were level with his eyes. He relaxed on his chair and
studied the erotic sight before him. The teetering black high heels
click-clacking wearily on the treadles; the long legs sheathed in tight black
rubber; the lace cut-out framing the jutting hemispheres displayed inches from
his gaze, the plump cheeks covered in perspiration and jiggling helplessly in
time to the pumping legs. From the front faint gasps and groans were just
audible above the clanking of the machinery.

Harvey's concentration on his new personal plaything was suddenly broken as an
ear-splitting shriek came from the end of the row. A youngish woman had somehow
incurred the displeasure of the lesbian attendant. He looked down the row and
saw that her hawkish features were a mask of fury, and that the electric wand
was thrust deep into the shrieking woman's vagina sending powerful jolts through
her insides. "NO-OOOOOOOOOOO!!" came the frantic scream. "STOP - NO - DON'T - 
AAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! OH NO - NO - NOOOOOOOO!! " "NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! 
YYYIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

The shrieks rose to a crescendo, and then abruptly ceased; the woman had fainted
as a result of the level of pain inflicted. Her plight was too much for the
woman immediately next to her. Her voice rising to a crescendo, she yelled
wildly - "LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BASTARDS.....SHE'S EXHAUSTED....FOR GOD'S SAKE
STOP HURTING HER!"  A great heaving sob followed this outburst, and from then on
she could be heard weeping uncontrollably. Helga allowed herself a cruel smile
but for now ignored this sudden bout of hysterics. Smelling salts swiftly
appeared in the attendant's hand as she strode purposefully around to the front
of the unconscious woman. Meanwhile, five pairs of shapely legs continued their
agonising marching on the spot, thigh and calf muscles trembling with pain and
fatigue as the spiked heels rose and fell, rose and fell.....

Khaled waited until all six of the seated guests were properly settled with
their chairs adjusted to just the right height. "My friends" he announced and
waved a hand towards Helga. "Our colleague is taking a break for one hour. She
will be honoured if you would take over the task of looking after our ladies
during this time"! The ancient assistant appeared and, grinning toothlessly,
went to a nearby cabinet. Once opened Harvey saw it was stacked with sex
implements - dildos, anal plugs, clamps; and other more sinister items more
likely to be found in a workshop. Six shallow, oblong trays were filled with a
selection of these items; the old man then clipped a tray to the side of each
chair for the guests to use its contents as desired.

Khaled addressed his visitors once more. "Each of you may also wish to become
more closely acquainted with your young lady - a one to one I believe is the
commonly-used term!" So saying, he nodded to the toothless one who handed each
guest a set of miniature headphones and clip-on microphone, then shuffled across
to the front of the groaning women. Minutes later the women's' earpieces were
supplemented by similar diminutive microphones. Along with the other men, Harvey
was shown a small button on his headset. This he duly pressed. As he did the
sound of Lady Beauchamp's distress filled his ears - the exhausted gasps as she
tried to suck air into her lungs; the moans of pain as her aching leg muscles
threatened to give out on her; the whimpering noises as she contemplated the
hopelessness of her situation.

He listened for a minute or so, his throbbing erection sending waves of pleasure
through his body, then decided to communicate with her. "Good morning, your
ladyship!" he said cheerfully. "I trust you are coping well with your task!" He
sensed her shocked surprise at hearing an English voice. A few seconds passed.
Then she spoke; or tried to speak - fatigue made it difficult to get the words
out. A faltering but cultured voice came through Harvey's earphones.
"Please.......please..." she gasped. "Yes, your ladyship?" he enquired, his
excitement rising as he realised his total control over this well-bred female.
"Please....listen to me....whoever you are.....let me rest.....just for a minute
....PLEASE ....OH GOD......you must help me....I've got to get away from
here...PLEASE......HELP ME!"  She broke off, unable to speak any more. Tears
welled inside the black void of her rubber helmet; her restrained head and upper
body shook in a spasm of uncontrolled sobbing. Harvey began to enjoy his new
role as Lady Beauchamp's master. He answered her tearful request. "Never mind
who I am, your ladyship. Don't think of anything except keeping those nice legs
of yours moving up and down. Just remember - maximum effort at all times. I want
NO slacking or this pert bottom of yours - which incidentally is right here in
front of my eyes - will have to undergo considerable suffering!"  Her hopes of
any sympathy were dashed and she gave a howl of utter despair - a wave of total
misery consuming her as it became clear there was to be no way of escaping this
torture.

The twin moons continued to jiggle enticingly before Harvey's eyes as the
perspiring woman trudged wearily up and down. She had now reached the point of
sheer desperation...she tried to engage him in dialogue once more.....it was her
only hope. Surely this man would have some pity on her......she was a woman, not
an object..... she had feelings.....she couldn't carry on like this...   
"P-please...have mercy....I beg you....mercy ...I'll do anything for
you...PLEEEEEASE!" Her voice became hysterical as she pleaded with her new
master. At the same time her pace slowed on the treadles. Harvey's response was
uncompromising; glancing down into the tray of "goodies" he selected a
wooden-handled wire brush as sold in any d.i.y. store. Should he use the flat or
wire bristle side? He made his decision. Without ceremony he lifted the brush
high above his head and brought the sharp wire bristles down powerfully on the
right cheek. The shapely figure seemed to leap into the air despite her
restraints, the cuffed breasts jerking upwards until it seemed they would be
yanked out of the encircling straps or that the cords tethering them to the
floor eyelet must surely break. However, both did their job effectively and held
firm; the heavy breasts were stretched to the limits making the pain almost as
unbearable as that just caused by the bristles. 
"YYYYYYYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!"  A scream of agony assailed Harvey's
ears, followed by a tearful babbling from the tormented woman before him:     
"OH NO - OOOOOH - OH......OH GOD.... PLEASE DON'T DO THAT AGAIN.... I CAN'T TAKE
IT....UUURRRGGHHH... I'LL GO FASTER...I SWEAR I WILL....  I
PROMISE...PLEASE....NO MORE... PLEEEEEASE!!"  True to her word, Lady Beauchamp
somehow managed to summon up her remaining reserves of energy and redoubled her
efforts. The long legs pushed firmly up and down...up and down...up and down,
muscles taut and strained as she applied herself frantically to her task. Her
buttocks bounced wildly before Harvey's fascinated gaze, the plump lips beneath
performing a merry little dance of their own and the puckered anus vanishing and
re-appearing enticingly. Tiny rivulets of blood ran down the right cheek and
stained the white lace frill from at least a dozen small punctures in the soft
flesh. 

"Your Ladyship, you must learn to maintain a steady pace at all times!"
reprimanded Harvey sternly. "Even now you seem to be slowing again!"

She could not of course keep the current fast pace up for any length of time -
no one could be expected to. A wail of anguish came over the earphones. "I'll
try....please give me a chance...I can't go any faster.... UUURRRGGGHHHH....
mercy....please have mercy...don't hit me again.....MERCY....MERCY!"

Her pleas were music to Harvey's ears. He watched and waited. Inevitably her
strength began to dwindle as the adrenalin rush from her earlier punishment
subsided. Soon she had slowed sufficiently to warrant another smack with the
wire brush. This time the left cheek was to be the recipient; no time was wasted
in bringing the implement down as forcefully as before. 

"AAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"  Again the shriek of pure agony; again the
tiny spots of blood as the skin punctured like a little pincushion. She was on
the verge of collapse by now, in spite of which a gallant effort was made to
recover her lost pace; howling with pain, Lady Beauchamp pushed her legs firmly
down onto the treadles...she couldn't take any more of this punishment....she
had to carry on....there was no option.......

Harvey lounged in the comfortable chair and glanced around him. On the adjacent
chair another of the selected guests was tending to Alison Hoffman. It seemed
that his excitement had got the better of him. He had removed the clip-on
microphone from his headset. His face was buried deep between the high-flying
executive's hot, damp buttocks whilst his right hand held a darning needle which
he unhurriedly and randomly jabbed - not severely, but enough to cause pain -
into the quivering flesh. The American, although almost overcome with fatigue,
was filled with disgust and loathing towards her tormentor. She vowed to herself
she would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream in pain. The
needle jabbed into her right buttock again. She bit her lip...Hell! He's pushing
his nose right in there...jab! went the needle into the right thigh just below
her bottom. Mustn't scream...keep walking....just concentrate, forget what he's
doing....jab! Into the soft skin of the right buttock. She bit her lip until it
bled....oh Jesus....the bastard....the humiliation....making me feel so
ashamed...jab! Another little puncture made in the soft, glutinous flesh. She
gritted her teeth and struggled to keep silent, all the while maintaining her
torturous rythymn on the treadles. Oh my God, his tongue's going right up my
backside....got to keep him away from there.....keep your bottom clenched tight
Alison...come on, you're a strong woman....you can do it.... don't let him
degrade you like this... The guest decided to be a little more severe.
"YYYYIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" A scream finally erupted from her as the needle was
pushed a full half-inch into her right buttock. The posteriors clenched and
unclenched in helpless spasms of pain, to the satisfaction of the man whose face
was firmly thrust between them. "That's more like it, Miss Hoffman" he thought
to himself contentedly, his nostrils taking in the heady mix of natural odours
together with the expensive perfume carefully applied to both the anus and
vagina before the start of the current shift. His head bobbed in time to the
frenzied bouncing of the enveloping globes like a rowing boat on a choppy sea,
the sphincter muscle opening involuntarily then tightening around his tongue as
he thrust it inside. Her remaining self-control evaporated. "YOU FUCKING
PERVERT! GET AWAY FROM ME!" she yelled hysterically. "FOR GOD'S SAKE STOP - I
CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS!" she broke down and the tears flowed freely inside
the hot, suffocating hood. "UURRGGHH - UURRGGHH -UURRGGHH!!"  Her utter misery
only served to heighten the enjoyment of the man seated behind her. She had by
this time lost all concentration on her task and slowed almost to a stop;
realising this, the guest ceased his oral ministrations and began to rummage in
his tray for a painful incentive to get her back into line.       

Harvey by this time had picked up a shiny chrome dildo which he now held against
the soft folds of Lady Caroline's labia. He warned her that it was about to
enter her; her response in her exhausted state was limited to a tearful, gasping
"NO-PLEASE-DON'T DO THAT!"  He began to push, slowly but steadily.                    
"NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" wailed the one-time society girl as the chrome invader
sunk deep into the place it was designed to go. "Keep marching!" ordered Harvey
harshly as her pace slowed once more. Gradually the dildo was sucked inside the
shaven, pouting lips until only the base protruded. "Keep it in or you'll get
more of the brush" came the instruction. Back came a sobbing reply "I'll          
t-try...p-please...don't hit me...please don't hurt me....UUURRGGGHHH!" The
tears were now continuous, her body shaking in time to the anguished sobs.

Harvey almost felt sorry for this once proud lady, now reduced to a mere
plaything.
 
Meanwhile, at the end of the row the young woman who had earlier fainted after
being on the receiving end of Helga's wand was again in trouble. This young lady
had personal problems before her ensnarement in the Sheikh's clutches - although
they now seemed insignificant compared with her present predicament. Mary Ellis
was not yet twenty years old. Daughter of parents who followed a strict
religious doctrine, she had never mixed with others and had reached adulthood as
a very shy, withdrawn young woman despite being extremely pretty. There was
another reason for her introverted character. It had come to dominate all her
thought processes and had made her life a misery. It was "down there"  the
problem lay. She was so big, so over-developed....those outer lips....so thick
and prominent... and worse, the inner lips....they hung down so
grotesquely....every time she'd thought about her overlarge genitals she'd
shuddered. Boys were out of the question - which ideally suited her doctrinaire
parents with their hard-line puritanical outlook.

A chance meeting between her parents and another member of the sect had been the
start of her present nightmare. Unknown to them the sect member had a contact in
the Sheikh's network of depraved sadists, and had persuaded Mary's parents to
send her to a religious college where she would do full-time studying for a
year. However, this was of course merely a ruse and within a week she was in the
hands of the Sheikh's henchmen and quickly delivered to the lonely desert
palace.


Mary Ellis was spending her first shift on the treadles. She had been in shock
since her capture, but the realisation of her plight had sunk in once she had
been put to work. The insertion of Helga's wand had been the most traumatic
experience of her life, and she had only just recovered her senses. But apart
from the appalling physical suffering, perhaps the most difficult thing to come
to terms with was the fact that her secret terror - her huge sex lips - were now
exposed to an unknown man sitting right behind her. She had resumed her marching
action - she could not bear the thought of that wand again - and groaned not
only with the stringent effort of maintaining the pace as her unfamiliar
skyscraper stiletto heels rose and fell, but also with shame and embarrassment
as the male fingers tugged and fondled the thick fleshy lips that had been the
cause of all her hang-ups in recent years.

Meanwhile the guest seated behind Mary had been delighted by what he found. The
crinkly flesh of the giant inner labia protruding from the thick outer lips was
just begging for severe punishment. On settling into his seat he had engaged the
traumatised young lady in a one-way conversation; she was too shocked to
respond. She had almost passed out with the humiliation of it; his roars of
laughter....telling her she was simply enormous for one so young...the fingers
painfully stretching and twisting the elongated sex lips....making them even
longer than normal...oh God...the shame.....

"Keep those legs moving, Miss Ellis!" barked the man's stern voice through her
earphones. Still unable to speak, she redoubled her efforts.....she could feel
her bottom wobbling and bouncing right before this man's eyes....and that
unspeakable place between her legs...all on show in front of him...oh my God,
his fingers were gripping her THERE again.....tugging them outwards.....A tear
rolled down her rubber-covered cheek and slowly made it's way past her mouth to
fall on the floor below. Sheer misery engulfed her as the probing fingers pulled
roughly on the big pouting lips between her legs. She tried to keep going, tried
to ignore the terrible events occurring behind her.

"AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"  Mary Ellis shrieked in agony as the pain
coursed through her. "AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

She shrieked again, her voice almost hoarse. She had never known pain like it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

The work on the treadles was forgotten. She bucked frenziedly but futilely in
her bonds, unable to escape the grip of the pillory and breast cuffs. Her
buttocks jiggled uncontrollably in front of her tormentor; the thin yellow flame
still burnt at the tip of the little butane gas lighter in his hand. Once more
he brought it into contact with the protruding inner labia - the left one this
time.




"YYYYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

Again the hysterical shriek of agony; again the heaving body striving in vain to
escape it's bondage; and again the enticing sight of rounded posteriors bouncing
and jiggling, alternately thrusting out and contracting, performing their
tortured dance within the oval of delicate lacework.

It was after about ten minutes of using the butane lighter that Mary Ellis
finally lapsed into unconsciousness. The pain had been just too much for her to
take; in any case the big lips had begun to singe and there was now a serious
risk of permanent scarring. Khaled was called across and immediately signalled
to a couple of attendants to remove the young woman; she was of no further use
this shift and would now be given time to recuperate. However, if there was no
need for surgery it was likely that she would soon be back on the treadles. Once
the wheeled contraption had been eased out and pushed down the walkway with its
motionless occupant into the recovery room, Harvey saw a replacement being
trundled out in front of him; a sobbing woman whose plump buttocks were already
covered in raised purple welts, probably for some minor infringement. She
appeared older than the rest, probably in her late thirties. He wondered whether
his companion with the lighter would show more mercy to her than her younger
predecessor. Not much chance of that, he thought. He mused on the fact that the
man at the end of the row was even more of a sadist than he was. But not by
much, he thought to himself as Lady Beauchamp's dildo began to slip out due to
the natural juices produced and he picked up the wire brush once more....



To be continued............