In The Wee Hours (closed for scribe_m and me)

[Guest]

Sue took a deep breath as she shut down the front desk program. She hated this part of her routine, when she had to go all the way to the basement to shut down the interfaces. Tonight the bar had closed later than usual, leaving her to make her trek in the loneliest hours of the night.

Her heels clacked and echoed eerily on the marble floor as she crossed to the restaurant, the first of four dark rooms she must traverse. She especially dreaded the sharp turn into the ballroom. She tugged the hem of her skirt down reflexively as it rode up her thighs, crossed her arms over her chest and glanced around, all of her senses on alert, shivering at the loneliness of the hotel at this hour.

To make the situation worse, she'd been having this feeling of being watched for the past couple of weeks. . .

 

[scribe_m]

He had been watching her from afar, but tonight would be different. It seemed an eternity ago when he beheld his eyes upon this woman, and now he would have her with much much more.

Perhaps it was the wind, perhaps she could trick herself into thinking the sounds she heard and the sights she saw were but tricks of a mind alone at night. Or perhaps it was mere hope and folly that prevented her from noticing she had an admirer, one who peeped at her at night, through the windows outside of this hotel.

He could just see her, working alone in the wee hours, and himself could imagine, what she looked like up close, her beautiful face, her body, her skin, her touch. And tonight, after waiting for her night after night in the squalid basement, he would find out.

Her heels clacked down the basement halls, and the wet murkey sounds of his worn shoes echoed hers.

 

[Guest]

Sue walked with caution, avoiding any puddles as she made her way through the unfinished "bat cave" portion of the basement to the more finished section where the computers were kept. She was so on edge that she let out a little squeak of fright when a drop hit her in the middle of her head and jumped. She kept thinking she heard a soft squish like her dad's old crepe soled shoes, and paused each time she heard it, only to continue after not hearing anything more.

Her posture, straight and tight, revealed her tension despite her attempt to relax as she proceeded. The fine hairs on the back of her neck and on her forearms stood up; she could not ignore her fear, but could see no reason for it.

"Almost there," she said aloud to the concrete walls, almost daring them to respond with more than an echo.

 

[scribe_m]

It was as if soft wet heavy sounds were echoing her footsteps, and, perhaps they were. For the drip-drip-dripping of filthy and dirty liquid... the groaning of strained pipes... and the sheer dankness of the poorly lit hallways... none assured her of the safety (or sanity) of this section of her abated rounds. But there, there was the safety of the all-familiar Exit sign. Its reassuring green glowing, taken for granted nearly everwhere else, would lead her out of these twisted passageways all alike. And she opened the door.

Into blackness. A right that should have been a left? Or a switch turned off to save energy? To her right, on the wall, a light switch where every single indentical standardly built nondescript room could easily be turned on was disabled.

But less comforting was the light that *was* in this room. The dancing eerie shadows were hardly eerie. But the *context* of the candlelight was most disquieting. The languid flickers did not make themselves present smack dab in the middle of the room. No, they had to suggest of what they were around the corner of the room to the next section of it.

And what are candles without something to illuminate? Photos... too many photos... began to appear as the source of the light came closer. But were they of her? Was someone watching her, picturing her, during her lost lonely nights at the hotel?

No. They were of the woman who had disappeared *before* her.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Sue stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. Panic rose in her as she realized the implications of the photo montage—a sinister tribute to her predecessor. Had the images been there before she entered the basement? Had she just not noticed them? It didn’t matter. What did matter was the presence of someone in the hotel who should not be there; someone crazy.

She backed up to the door she’d just come through and pressed her back against the wall beside it. Groping blindly in the pocket of her vest, she found the radio she always carried. She pressed the button, but nothing happened. Heart racing now, she realized that the thing hadn’t been charged. Her mind raced. Sliding sideways to the nearest table next to the wall, she picked up a fork. The only way to get to the security office from here was through the next ballroom—past that blind corner.

She crept back to the wait station and grabbed a glass coffee pot, then made her way along the wall to the next room. Sue’s ears were pricked for the slightest sound, and she inhaled the air with the purpose of detecting any anomalies in the normal smells of the place. The hair stood up on her arms, and she caught the slightest breeze, and… the smell of wet clothes. Her eyes widened and she stopped midway to her destination, unsure of what to do.

~Rose

 

[scribe_m]

The lights flickered on and off, in the receding wretched corridors. If was as if hope itself were tantalizing her, dimming, then replaced by darkness. A wet foetid odor was her only accompaniment, along with the wet echoes of footprints -- or something that *sounded* like footprints, to her well-deceived ears.

The blind corner lurked there, as if to mock her fear and trepidation. Were someone... a security guard... to suddenly appear, he or she would encounter a woman armed with an eating utensil and a coffee pot. Surely a hotel employee loaded with such dangerous weapons would be the muse of idle gossip during these long winter months.

But there were no security guards this night, or many nights before. They cost too much, and her fear was a small price to pay in this lonely resting place. The guests slept like the dead, unable to hear plaintive calls for help deep within the layers underneath below.

And the floor near the corner was quite dry. Whatever was following her -- if anything else at all -- would not be rounding this corner. There was nothing around this corner but relief from the foolishness of her thoughts.

And the silent wet icy palm that gripped her mouth, nails digging into her frail cheeks, damp flopping clothes that touched her skin, a lungeful heavy breath at the nape of her neck, told her she was not that foolish at all.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

The hand was too tight over her mouth for Sue to bite, so that was out. Not that she didn’t try. With that possibility eliminated, she brought the fork down, jamming it into her assailant’s left thigh, praying that he’d loosen his grip enough for her to wallop him with the coffee pot.

OOC: Sorry this is so short—I don’t want to dictate your character’s actions.

 

[scribe_m]

Glenda "Glady" Ellison was born in the cold midwest, and sought a greater, better life in the proverbial "Big City". She had dreams of being a famous actress, was the star of her local theatre, but harsh reality and harsh winters set into her life. Aged, older but wiser, she drifted from job to job, eventually landing a meaningless graveyard shift at some isolated hotel in the country.

She reflected upon this as her life ebbed away. She had been trapped in the dank belly of the maze for weeks, finally fleeing and encountering someone who was *not* her captor. But he was always one step ahead of her, as he cackled madly, photobulbs flashing and blinding his next poor victim. The fork stuck in her thigh, the glass of the pot now broken on her head, it was all too much as she succumbed to welcome darkness.

But the tinny voice behind the camera was quite vigorous and alive. "Now, my sweet," it said, a barrage of light overwhelming Sue, "We have photographic *proof* of the killer of the poor missing woman." Several blows landed on the disoriented Sue. When she awoke, she could smell the acrid air of candles...

OOC: No problem, lol. Hope you like the twists you've inspired me to write! Hmmm... Okay to have Sue forced to have sex with another woman? Nyahahahah...


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Her vision swimming before her, Sue tried to raise her head. Pain prevented her, and she whimpered as she rolled to her side. She was tied by the wrists to an old bedframe, lying on the mattress to match, in the abandoned section of the complex. The caretaker's quarters from the heyday of the hotel? The decor was still visible as she squinted to avoid the pain that fully open eyes sent racing to her temples. Her senses on full alert, she stretched out to see if she could touch anything else.

She found that her feel were free, but also realized that her skirt was gone and her blouse opened. She felt scratchy wool over her lower half, and under that blanket realized there was a strap fastened around her waist. Further experimentation revealed that this strap was connected on either side to a flexible cord that was, in turn, fastened to some unseen, solid point.

The scents here were not as damp, though just as disagreeable to her. She was assailed by the earthy musk of sweat and sex, and over that, blood, and even fresher, hot electronics. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard breathing.

"Why?" was the only question that she whispered as tears formed behind her eyes.

OOC: Not forced to have sex with any person dying or dead. Other than that, have fun.

 

[scribe_m]

"Nursssse..." the voice trailed. "Will you see that the patient is unharmed....?"

Gladys felt this ironic. Her own body was covered in bruises and more hideous things, a tapestry of purple and black. She was dressed in a makeshift parody of a nurse's uniform, dirty and grey. She lumbered with a limp, carrying in a tray of pins, needles, and melancholy inks. She placed them on the stained table, candles illuminating the darkness.

"Clean the patient... show her your... art...."

Gladys leaned over Susan's helpless body. She gave light licks and kisses to her forehead, tears forming on Glady's cold face. Her lips traced her cheek, her mouth her chin, and she tentatively kissed Sue on the lips. Gladys then crept onto the bed, and straddled Susan's chest. Glady then unzipped part of her top, exposing a beautiful purple orchid atop of her breasts. The petals were purple swollen flesh, the head of the flower black tatoos.

"Prepare the patient... she must be ready..."

Gladys tearfully looked into Sue's eyes. Gladys closed her eyes and pulled down the top of her black brassier, exposing a tattooed nipple, of florets and intricate designs. She lowered it to Susan's face and lifted it, as she could feel the wool blanket covering her lower half being rustled...


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Sue stared at the tray in disbelief, eyes shifting from it to the woman carrying it. She realized as the nurse limped forward that she had been the one who grabbed her. Sue felt a cold sickness in the pit of her stomach as she recognized the wounds on the woman as the ones she inflicted. The woman was as much a prisoner as she was.

For this reason, she did not try to fight as the other woman kissed and licked her, then straddled her chest. In fact, she licked her lips, memories of similar setups in her hidden life coming to the fore, scenes so similar in physicality, but so much the opposite in the reality of their psychology... Sue thought on this, beneath it all, and almost kissed the woman when she brushed her lips. Almost. The tears of the “nurse” wetted Sue’s cheeks in the seconds before she sat up and opened her blouse to reveal the “art” of which their mutual captor spoke.

Did she see a gleam in the woman’s eye as she brought her breast from her bra? Sue could smell the nurse’s excitement and see the shame on her face. Horrified, she realized that her own sex was becoming slippery.

As if able to read her mind, her fellow prisoner leaned forward, offering the intricately tattooed nipple and lifting Sue’s head.

“Yesssss, that’s right, nurssse.” Their captor did not see or hear the exchange between the two of them as he voiced his approval.

Sue took the opportunity to ask the woman, “What’s your name?”

The woman started at the sound of her voice. “Gladys,” she hissed as Sue’s tongue swirled around her nipple. She slid a hand between her thighs and under the blanket covering Sue, seeking the warmth there.

“Sue,” the newest captive introduced herself before her tongue curled around the hard flesh presented to her and guided it into her mouth.

Gladys gasped at the sensation, so sensual after so long without any kind touch, and letting out a little sigh, slid her finger along Sue’s pussy, pushing under her panties. Sue, on her part, pushed the reality of the situation down deep into the furthest corners of her psyche, washed it, and brought it back as a scene with a Master a few months ago (saving her sanity) even as she pushed her wetness against Gladys’ probing fingers.

Their captor’s breathing came heavier and from time to time, the women heard a low moan. They ignored his pleasure and concentrated on their own, determined to enjoy each other as long as allowed.

~Rose

 

[scribe_m]

Gladys let out a soft gasp as the captive's lips encircled her breasts. She had not felt the touch of a woman, much less someone not her captor, in such a very long time. She lifted Susan's head to her bosom, assisting her to suckle her bruised bosom.

Her fingers found her way underneath the coverings, to Susan's moistening sex. She would have felt relief that Susan was accepting her, had it not been the heavy breathing behind the captured couple. A chafe gurgle and chuckling emitted itself from the darkness behind them, a dreaded child enjoying his playthings. The candlelight flickered off her tattooed flowered body, sensuous lines curling on her stomach, punctuated by slashing lines across her skin.

Her hips began to grind against the filthy coverings. Her hand pulled gently, then desperately, at Susan's underwear. It eventually came off. Her own panties slipped off her body. A low chortling of glee echoed in the darkness. Her desirous thoughts helped shut off the world behind them.

The covers on Susan's lower body had been pulled down to her knees, exposing her naked pussy. Gladys licked her fingers, tasting Susan's sex. She offered them to Susan's lips, hoping for a favorable reaction. Gladys then scooted downward. She kissed Susan on the lips, passionately. Her tongue felt and explored her mouth, and Gladys heaved a heavy sigh. She could feel dreaded fingernailed claws on her backside, and she wished to protect this new captive as long as she could, even if it were only minutes. Her pussy pressed against Susan's, and she lightly gasped, as their pussy-lips touched, her wetness flowing into Susan's.

Slowly, silently, she began to grind. Her heavy breath echoed in the darkness.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

In her mind, Sue heard not the distorted sounds of their captor, but the approving moans and encouragements of the Dom those months previous. She could see Gladys’s eyes glaze over, could feel that part of that was lust as the other woman slid her finger into Sue’s cunt, then tasted her. She acknowledged that lust and fed it by accepting Gladys’s finger, sucking it gently into her mouth to taste herself.

She saw also fear, borne no doubt of Gladys’s knowledge of their captor’s intention for Sue as well as for herself, and to reassure, she returned her fellow captive’s kiss, sharing her own taste.

Gladys sighed, relieved at this further acceptance, and ground her clit against Sue, who, on her part, was becoming more and more aroused despite her situation, or because of it. She cursed her perverse mind and dove deeper into her fantasy, grinding her own clit against Gladys, moaning softly and kissing her, lightly scraping the other woman’s lower lip with her teeth, then sucking it back in softly, only to flick her tongue out over it, teasing Gladys to draw her into a passionate kiss.

Gladys lifted her head as Sue felt the mattress beside her knee sink with the weight of her captor, and Sue saw the determination in her eyes as she lowered herself to cover her, grinding more frantically, certainly, but protecting. Sue whispered into her ear as her cheek brushed Sue’s own.

“Shhh…you feel good, Gladys…do I?”

She felt the other woman nod quickly.

“Make this your own, here.” Sue turned her head and kissed Gladys’s temple to indicate the woman’s mind, then had to bring her own mind to the same task as their captor made his next move.

~Rose

 

[scribe_m]

“Shhh…you feel good, Gladys…do I?”

Gladys began to tremble, to fear. Her own lusts had brought her to this situation. Her need to please the master -- yet never receiving release -- had kept her trapped. Yet Susan was just as innocent as she, her only mistake walking the halls of the basement at night.

“Make this your own, here.”

It was despite her captor, now joining them on the stale mattress, that Gladys heard these words. And it gave her strength, despite the welling tears in her eyes. Gladys had nodded in return to Susan's words, a tear or two dropping to Susan's face the only reply she could give. The claws raking her ass had disappeared. She knew that could only mean his attentions were now on Susan. She could only imagine those horrible spindly fingers pawing Susan's creamy thighs. The deft fingertips, rubbing, playing with her outer lips before entering her pussy. Gladys admittedly could not help but be aroused by this. She rubbed her pussy harder into Susan's snatch, her lips uncomfortably close to his yellow-nailed hands. She kissed Susan again, a mixture of hungering breath and muted cries. Gladys finally released Susan's kiss. Stradding Susan, Gladys again offered a swollen nipple. "Kiss it..." she said.

The candle lights began to dim.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Sue took Gladys’s nipple between her lips, pressing it firmly between them, her tongue flickering the sensitive skin. The balm of her saliva soothed the tortured skin in her mouth, and she closed her eyes at the other woman’s moans.

She felt grateful when the candlelight flickered and seemed to dim, until the nails of their captor dragged along her inner thigh, scraping her delicate skin as the mattress depressed between her legs, and that hand rested there, so close to her pussy. Then she realized, the wheezing would-be master had grabbed a candle and brought it down to himself; down to where he could watch as his nails scored her flesh.

Determined to keep herself in her own mind, she sucked Gladys’s nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tenderized flesh, turned on by the resulting cry of pleasure/pain. How many times had she uttered that very cry, those months ago? She held on to the thrill and gently bit, causing the other woman to squirm and slide her soaking pussy against Sue’s belly. God, was she wet! Sue’s own body responded, a flood of her own juices entertaining their captor.

She heard his breathing come harder as he became more excited at the sight before him, and then a cruel chuckle that froze her blood. She knew that sound, too. She’d heard it in a bad scene that had left her injured and the “master” in court.

Gladys let out a scream and Sue felt her body jerk. She intensified her attentions to the woman, switching to the other breast, glancing up to see its owner’s tear glazed eyes, and a silent, helpless apology. Her own eyes acknowledged the unspoken words, just as the other’s mouth opened in a silent cry of pain.

Susan felt heat—unmistakable radiant flame heat—moving back and forth over her mound, and the movements of her reluctant lover told her that she was being fucked. Her eyes widened with sympathy as she watched Gladys’s face contort with the rough insertion of the candle, and then screwed shut as her own torture truly began.

Their captor’s sinister laugh filled the small chamber as Susan’s hips arched toward him when the hot, red wax covered her clit and dripped down the wet valley headed by it, to pool at her asshole.

~Rose

 

[scribe_m]

Gladys could feel it. The horrid waxen candle inserted into her, its thickness pushing aside the walls of her vagina. She could feel it slide into her, arousing her senses, belieing the cruel danger she and the new women were in. Her pussy was indeed wet, flowing, almost threatening to quench the hot flame on the other end of the candle, dripping of hot wax. The scalding wet wax flowed down the candle, scalding her pussy, coating her clitty with hot wax. She could tell from Susan's screeches and moans that the wax was touching her as well. Did it pain her pussy? Or did it coat her ass with its hot touch? It was dark, she could not make out Susan's face, she could not know.

And Susan was licking her. Sucking her firm taught breast, biting on her nipple. Gladys groaned, the tingling on her breast sending her pussy in motion, so wet from Susan's ministrations. Gladys groaned.

Then, suddenly, she could feel a clawlike finger insert into her ass. She screamed and jerked, pressing her pussy further into Susan's, grinding away, their clittys and folds rubbing against each other, a mixture of wax, sweat, and juice. Gladys wanted Susan's forgiveness, but could only communicate by pressing her pussy against hers, frantically rubbing, groaning in the darkness.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Gladys's grinding made Sue's body produce juices in such volume that the wax let go of her tender folds, leaving them reddened and swollen, and she felt hardened wax fall from Gladys and tumble down her own slick, sensitive flesh. She moaned into the breast in her mouth, and let go only to ask Gladys to come closer.

When the woman lowered her face for a kiss, Sue whispered, "Are you going to cum, Gladys?"

The other woman nodded. Sue kissed her deeply, then hissed, "Don't give it to him. Kiss me hard, scream into my mouth, but don't give it to him." She ran her tongue from Gladys's mouth along her jawline, then feathered her throat with tiny licks, making her way down to her breasts again, where she nudged the fullness up with her nose and kissed and licked the undersides.

She could feel the heat rise in the other woman as she neared orgasm, and that made Sue all the hotter, bringing her to the brink. In her mind, she was waiting, those months ago, waiting for permission... only this time, the permission would come from Gladys's kiss.

Her resolve was almost overcome as she felt something jammed into her twitching tunnel.

She reflexively opened her mouth to avoid biting Gladys as the cold, hard object penetrated her, stretching her beyond what even the largest cock she'd ever had, had done. She screamed into the woman's breast and moaned as Gladys, sensing rather than feeling what was going on, started a more circular motion, causing their clits to circle each other.

She wanted her hands... wanted to hold Gladys's ass while she desperately ground her clit into Sue, wanted to rake her nails up her back and hold her face to her for a fierce kiss... wanted to push her hands into Gladys's hair and hold her, cheek to cheek, breast to breast, cunt to cunt as they both released...

But that wasn't going to happen.

Her body stretched in almost every way possible, Sue could just lie there and take it, and wait.

 

[Guest]

based on chat between Scribe and Rose on the thread

Sue’s mouth seemed to devour Gladys’s breast as she stopped licking and began sucking gently on the soft flesh of the underside.

"Ohhh..." uttered Gladys. Her tight nipples were nice and hard within Sue’s mouth. Her clitty rubbed harder against Sue’s, beads of hardened wax around her pussy lips.

"You're close, aren't you?" Sue whispered, moving her hips in time with Gladys’s.
She gave Gladys’s nipple a little bite... a nip.

"Yes... yes..." she murmured. "Ohh.." she moaned at Sue’s nip on her breast.

"Tell me..." Sue hissed desperately "Only me..."

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." Then Sue felt horrid claws on her hips, and a dead thing entered into her pussy... no, just a candle... Gladys’s body began to spasm, riding on top of Sue’s pussy, grinding into her. With her orgasm, Sue had permission for her own, and she swallowed her scream but hold the other woman’s eyes as she came.

Gladys quaked, her body writhing on top of Sue’s, even as the sensation within her pussy grew stronger. In the dim darkness, Sue felt teardrops as Gladys sobbed. "I.. I have to put this on you..." She put the thin, gauzy blindfold on Sue’s eyes. The thing in the newest captive’s pussy gradually moved faster...

"It's--okay," Sue panted. Aware of Gladys’s need for forgiveness, she wanted to say that in her eyes her fellow captive was innocent, but Sue’s voice was failing her, and now she didn’t even have her eyes with which to speak to Gladys.

Seemingly in response, a hand touched Sue’s cheek, as light kisses trailed the curve of her face. Gladys kissed her, slowly, deeply again. A sensual contrast to the thing between Sue’s legs that now moved faster yet. She removed the weight of her body from Sue. Now she could see a tiny light through the gauze of the blindfold--the light of another candle.

When Gladys moved, it was as if the warmth of the room left, and all Sue knew was the object fucking her, unwanted yet somehow pleasurable as the speed increased yet again. The light wavered above her, and hot drops of wax dripped on your face, A tongue following them, smearing the hot wax over her forehead... cheeks... lips.

Unable to suppress it, Sue screamed at this new pain, and writhing now that she was not under the weight of anyone, again tested her bonds. The pulsating in her sex stopped, the thing still there. Several slaps stung her face smearing the wax.

Sue swallowed her screams, not wanting to give that satisfaction to her abuser, but could not help jumping and letting out a little whimper of pain every once in awhile as the torture continued with clawed nails digging into her face. The drips resumed, and she felt the searing drops on one of her breasts. Lips descended onto her waxed nipples, and teeth pinched and bit.

Sue hated that she couldn’t help but be turned on still, but she could still smell Gladys’s sex. The other woman’s body weight adjusted, and now Sue could feel her wet slit on her dirty fingers. Gladys rubbed herself on Sue’s hand, pressing her pussy into her fingers.
Now the filthy thing in Sue’s cunt moved faster, as if in time with the throbs of pain from the more savage biting on her breast.

Sue began to moan, and her fingers massaged Gladys the best she could, sliding into her when allowed. She wanted to give Gladys pleasure equal to her own pain.

"Oh... uhhhh..." Gladys began to thrust onto her fingers. Her body collapsed onto Sue’s, her breasts rubbing against hers.

The hand at Sue’s mouth shoved one of its fingers into her mouth as the thing between her legs pressed hard into her pussy. Gladys’s heavy breathing filled the room.

Sue reflexively sucked the finger in her mouth, ignoring the taste and concentrating on Gladys. The finger thing swirled within her mouth. Almost in time with it, the thing in her pussy moved faster and faster, jerking around in different directions inside her. Gladys’s hips ground faster on Sue’s fingers, almost tearing her pussy in her need to feel her hand.

Sue swirled her tongue around the digit in her mouth and cursed as she felt climax coming on. She curled her fingers the best she could to stroke Gladys’s g-spot.

"Yes... oh god..." came the feminine voice, a welcome sound in this torturous threesome, but joined by a deeper, harsher tone, fetid breath on Sue’s ear.

"Cum... cum now..." A hand almost wrapped around Sue’s mouth and jaw. The cock-thing in her pussy pumped her, stretching her pussy walls, fucking her.

Old habits die hard, and Sue was well trained by her Master those years ago... She came, cursing and screaming as her back arched.

"Ohh... ahhh... oh..." Gladys’s words echoed, her body spasming on Sue’s hand, all coated with her warm wet juices. The fingers left Sue’s mouth, almost slithering off and The cock-thing slid out of her pussy. All she hear was panting as Gladys’s body rose and fell against her own.

Sue cursed herself for cumming and lay still, shaken and trying to ignore the pain in her breasts. The room grew cold as the woman clung to you, sweat cooling. She eventually fell asleep, a welcome slumber overcoming both women.

The morning – near as Sue could tell it was morning -- greeted her with the same musty odors, confirming that it was not a nightmare. She heard the clinking of dinnerware in the room, as a hand gripped her jaw and forehead, prying her mouth open.

She turned her head away, her voice coming in rasps. "You don't have to pry my mouth open." Then she turned back and opened her mouth willingly, knowing she must have nourishment if she was to survive.

Firm hands on her blindfolded face held your head still as something mushy, bland, and warmly wet was dropped into her mouth. The food was disgusting, but her captor was right in surmising that her hunger was great enough that it must be accepted.

Kisses followed, announcing Gladys’s return. Sue didn’t mind the roughness of the woman’s hands, and her kisses were all too brief, as Sue’s body was flipped upside-down.

Now forced to kneel with her hands and ankles tied together, Sue’s face touched the bed, her back arched. She felt the hardness of something pressing against her spine. The candle had returned.

She shuddered and closed her eyes beneath the blindfold, bracing herself. She knew it was futile to protest.

 

[Guest]

Still, she could not keep herself from asking, "Why are you doing this?"

 

[scribe_m]

A blindfold, again, was her only response. Forced to kneel against the side of the bed, she felt the cold hard wax of the candle pressing against her naked back. Then, she could hear the scraping of a match. The blindfold was thicker, but then she felt the shrill heat of the candle flame close, almost touching, her skin. "Don't move..." cried the voice of Gladys. "He'll..." then her voice trailed off. Small searing drips greeted Susan's cheek, burning liquid trails into her skin. The candle moved to her back, hot wax dancing drops against her naked cold flesh.

The pain stopped. But then a new one began. Short pinpricks, one by one, began to burrow into her back. "Don't move..." came a voice, but it was not of Gladys. "You are my work... of art," it said.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

In a blinding flash of pain, Sue realized what was being done to her, and how. She could not help but flinch, and if there were any way she could get away she would have taken it. Her mind flashed back to the negotiations before she played the last time, explaining that needles are a hard line for her, and that she did not want any permanent marks on her body...the understanding and accepting nod of the Master...

She knew she would see no acceptance of this hard limit, were she to look into her captor's eyes.

The hand that stretched her skin felt rough, but not from work. It felt more like the 'artist' had a skin condition. She almost felt sorry for him, but then the sharp jab came again, chasing away any such feelings. She choked back a scream as the animal panic arose in her. If she could have seen the needle, she'd have fought to get away till she died, so great was her irrational terror of the simple metal points.

Her captor hissed as he felt her calf muscles tense and twitch under him as he knelt on them and saw her biceps tremble as she fought the panic.

"Gladys?" she whimpered.

She heard movement but could not tell where, and now her torturer stopped with a hiss.

 

[scribe_m]

"Doon't speeak..." the voice said, with a gutteral hiss. Several discliplinary lashes appeared on Susan's buttock. A leathery hand rode across the welts, further scraping into the raw flesh. "Goood goood..." it muttered. Sharp pinpricks followed, tines further burrowing into the bleeding lines in her ass.

Excrutiating moments later, the captor stopped. There was naught but a slow breathing, and the cold dripping of water from the ceiling above. Suddenly, a pinch to the shoulder blade of Susan, followed by the sharp edge of the back of a knife, making long streaks down Susan's back. A choking chortling accompanied wet rags pressing into her back. Was this part of the tatooing process?

Several blows from the pommel of the knife. They landed not haphazardly, as if they were chiseling into marble. But they landed on flesh, to bruise it utterly. The candles returned. Nasty drippings onto inflamed skin, burning in unknown patterns. Shadows accompanied the unseen captor as it did its handiwork.

The creature left, and all was still. "Susan?" the voice of Gladys had returned. She lit another candle and held two mirrors. "Do you see it? Do you see what he did to your back? It is a beautiful flower. A beautiful flower of purple petals, black leaves, and red stems. You look so lovely." She again turned around to show Susan her back. "See? We're twins..." the woman said.


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Gladys's words may have been meant to comfort her, but Sue took no solace in them.

Tears streamed down her face, from the pain, and from the terror she had undergone. The image in the mirror was indeed exquisitely beautiful, but the torture with which is was bought made it an ugly thing to her.

She shivered violently, wondering what her captor would do when the bruising that created the purple faded.

"How l-long have y-you b-been here, G-gladyss?" Her teeth chattered with her shivering, and she could taste the salt of her tears mixed with the iron of her own blood where she had bit her lip. The jangling of her nerves had been extreme, in combination with her fear. "What d-date were you t-taken?"

Gladys looked stricken by the condition of Sue, and Sue had no wish to cause any negative feelings in her, but she could not stop the tears coursing down her cheeks.

 

[scribe_m]

"Susan... Susan..." Gladys set down the mirror and caressed the poor woman's face. "I have been here forever... in the depths of the hotel... waiting for you... wanting you..." She kissed Susan's cheeks, kissing away the tears. Gladys, too, cried a little, as she licked Susan's teardrops. Silently, Gladys' lips touched Susan's breasts, where a teardrop lay. She then took Susan's nipple within her mouth, and lightly, delicately, sucked Susan's breast. She then placed the tip of her finger against Glady's slit, slowly stroking it, up and down, lightly brushing against her clitoris. "I do not remember when I was taken..." she said, her licks more insistant, "But we shall leave together as one."


Scribe.

 

[Guest]

Gladys's words swirled in Sue's mind as she stroked the woman's slick lips, her passion rising at the feeling of Gladys's kisses and at the wetness that surged as Sue gave her clit a little nudge on every slow upstroke.

Had Gladys waited all this time for an ally so that she could escape?

"Gladys..." She started, then could only moan as the woman made her own fingers busy, delving into Sue's pussy, her fingertips teasing the tight, wet opening.

In response, Sue pushed her own finger into Gladys as the woman straddled her. Soon, the two women were sitting face to face, each fingering the other's cunt, nipples wet from being sucked rubbing each other, as their mouths and tongues explored whatever they could reach.

Relentless now in her desire to give the woman pleasure and hear her moan and scream, Sue twisted her hand and used two fingers to tap and rub Gladys's G-spot and another to press on her clit and vibrate it, bending her head to take her lover's nipple between her teeth.

Sue was rewarded with the lovely feeling of Gladys's juices flowing over her hand as the woman's cunt gave her fingers (now three) strong, pulsing squeezes.

Fingers still buried, Sue manipulated herself and Gladys so that the woman was over her legs, breasts on one side, ass on the other. Her fingers swiveled in the woman, making her scream with eyes wide, lost in pleasure.

Reaching under the woman to roll her nipples and pull on them lightly, Sue used her thumb in the sopping hole of Gladys, then, with her entire hand now soaked with Gladys's own juices, she slid that thumb into Gladys's ass and fucked her with it, pinching her clit between the knuckles of two fingers.