Bondage story - The Phantom of the Roxy - 28

CHAPTER FOUR

A MADMAN’S SEX TOY

The next day was going fne until Jessica went to get a cruller from the lobby. She usually didn’t touch the box of donuts that management laid out each morning, but by eleven o’clock she was running out of energy and needed some- thing to get her through to lunch. The cruller was still soft, moist and sweet as she stood and ate it next to the refreshment counter, and the coffee was still warm enough to be palatable. She washed down the last bite, tossed the Styrofoam cup and hurriedly turned to get back to rehearsal. The Whisperer was standing right behind her, close enough that she bumped into him when she turned! A chill shot through her, fear rising in her despite the feelings that had been stirred in her the previous day. The realization that this madman was about to put her through all that again, the pain, the degradation and the emotional turmoil, terrifed her more than ever.

She tried to react, to scream, to pull away and fee, but he was quicker. One hand closed over her mouth, his other arm sweeping around her waist, picking her up from the foor. She struggled, and tried to cry out, but his grip didn’t loosen one bit, and all that got past his hand was a muffed yelp, not loud enough to carry beyond the empty lobby. He carried her quickly to the left end of the lobby and backed through the swinging door. A short, narrow hall led past a payphone to the public restrooms, but as he dragged her down the short hall, he managed to swing his dark cloak around her, obscuring her vision. Where he took her then she didn’t know. They didn’t go into either of the restrooms, for she’d have noticed the change in acoustics, so his trapdoor must have been somewhere in the hallway. All she knew was that when the cloak swung away from her face, she was in darkness, and there was a musty smell. Her arms were trapped against her body, but as she kicked out with her feet she often hit a wooden wall as her abductor carried her through dark, narrow spaces and down a fight of stairs.

At last they entered a small, rectangular room lit by a pair of candelabra. Three of the walls were ancient painted wooden paneling with battered wood-plank wainscoting, festooned with cobwebs and so dusty it was hard to tell what color it had been painted. The left wall was red brick and very old. Shelves stood against it, stacked with ancient cans of paint, with rusted drums and old wooden crates piled in front of them. There was a second doorway in the wall opposite, but the door was missing and it had been walled up from the other side. They appeared to be in a long-forgotten and abandoned storeroom, which the Whisperer had customized.

To the right, the near end of the room actually looked comfortable. It had a second set of shelves, but these had been cleaned up and painted, and now held books. There was a comfortable-looking upholstered chair and footstool, a matching couch, an end-table with a ewer of water and bowl, and a large steamer trunk. An attempt had been made to make the walls less stark by hanging draped fabric against them, and though the fabric was dusty and discolored, it ft in with the rest of the decor.

In the center of the room stood a strange-looking device built of thick, heavy beams and upholstered with red velvet. It had a fat, narrow platform at its apex, upholstered and set with two large round holes. Various straps and buckles hung from it at odd places, and though she couldn’t fathom its purpose, it was chillingly ominous squatting there. The Whisperer wasted no time stripping the clothing from her body. Though she was free to scream now, it seemed pointless, and she didn’t bother. She struggled as best she could, trying futilely to hang onto each piece of clothing as her captor took them from her, but she might as well have tried to resist gravity. He undressed her as though she were a petulant child, accepting her resistance and overlooking it.

Once she was naked he picked her up and carried her over to the waiting device. It became clear immediately what the two holes were for as he laid her face-down on the platform and her breasts fell through them to hang beneath the padded surface. A leather strap was buckled tightly across her upper back, another around her slim waist, pinning her to the platform, and her fate was sealed. The upholstered surface ended at her hips, leaving her legs kicking in the air, but the Whisperer captured them one at a time and strapped them to sturdy rings on either side, spread very wide. She shivered as she felt the straps tightening around her thighs and ankles, rendering her helpless with her bottom thrust out and her thighs spread so far apart that she felt the strain. Her wrists were strapped to rings on the sides of the platform, not extended but still unable to reach anything. Her head hung over the top of the platform, and when she rested her chin on the padded edge, she could see her own dangling breasts swaying beneath her.

She was appallingly vulnerable and utterly helpless, her naked body displayed obscenely by the position she had been forced to assume. Even her buttocks were spread apart, exposing the puckered mouth of her cringing anus. Humiliation rose and colored her cheeks, even as her fear chilled her to the marrow.