Chapter 3

The director adjusted the focus on his camera. The room was stifling hot and it seemed like the white tiled walls were dripping as much sweat at the bodies of the three men and their nubile suspended prisoner.

He could hear the street chatter through the skylight, but knew her screams would not travel the other way. Below in his home the director's wife continued to play the TV on full volume the dull thud coming up between his feet. The neighbours might complain but it wouldn't be about the screaming.

He adjusted his black hood so he could see clearly down the viewfinder.

Lara was looking fantastic. Now stretched to attention arms above her head tied to the suspended manacles she looked much taller. Her figure was like a coke bottle in its curvaceous elegance, great hips and now that big heaving chest in all its glory. While fucking her doggie her tits had hung like two prize fruits, hard and swaying. But now they stood as erect beautiful glistening domes her pink teats like those on a baby's feeding bottle, big and rubbery. The perspiration on her body had turned her from English rose to sultry bronze, her breasts covered in rivulets of sweat down to her toned tummy.

She was trying to wriggle free doing a sexy dance on tip toe her hips swaying knees together to help raise her body a fraction more. But it was pointless, she was trussed well and even if she collapsed her body would slump but a few inches from the vertical and she would just sway there like a meat carcass.

Lara felt like a human toy hung on some giant kids bedroom. The black hooded men looked ridiculous and horrific at the same time. There was the fat hairy director with his string vest, his accomplice the Yank with the glistening aging power lifter body and finally the runt of the pack, the brother. He looked more agitated; his hood making him twitch or was it something else, fear, bravado or even insanity?

Only a few hours ago she was planning on meeting a charismatic handsome Kiwi guide for a jungle adventure. But some how she'd arrived here in this hellhole. A world she never dreamed existed. A world of debauched life and underground rape movies!

"Oh God no please I've done what you wanted," she gulped trying to reason. But the three masked men seemed impervious to her pleas. The scenes they'd already recorded made her nauseous with humiliation. But it was getting worse and worse as they continued, the abyss of filth and degradation sucking her deeper and deeper.

Her blonde hair was stuck to her face and hanging bedraggled about her neck and rampant tits. The position of her arms pulled above her head had thrust her melons out making a Barbie style figurine.

She shook her head and looked left and right at plan tiled walls for some hope of escape. In front of her the next game was about to start and she was horrified.

"Oh no no no!" She was ranting her eyes looking wild like a cornered animal. "Not the leads!"

"Oh God why? Please why me?"

Her ridiculous question remained unanswered. Innocent or not she didn't need to ask what they had planned next and all this desperate pleading was just adding to the evil mans movie.

The Yank came closer his big tattooed armed holding her waist steady allowing the younger man; the directors drug fuelled brother to do his thing.

The brother had the silver spring-tensioned nipple clamps in his hands. He was using his thumbs to make both open like snapping beaks of some mechanical bird. The yellow cables hung down from each metal device until they finally snaked into the leather-encased black box on the floor. The transformer.

"Be still bitch! " He demanded the Yanks fingers biting into her hips his hands almost able to touch around her waist. Lara was shaking her head the snapping beaks getting closer.

"No please don't you oh no, no, no!" The brother was focusing on his job

Snap!

Snap!

The metal clamps bit tight on her big teats Lara making a yelp as a double sting of sensation shot from her breast tips. The spring locked clamps gripped unyieldingly her nipple distended the pink nuts bloated the areolas turning blue with the restriction of blood.

"Oh Jesus!" She wailed gyrating her hips her tits swinging with their cables bonded nipples.

"The jelly," the experienced filmmaker said coaching the others, "make sure you spread it on thick."

Lara grunted and squealed the clamps biting; the young brother applying the conducting gel onto her big points the stuff like axel grease. Lara's neck was straining as she tried to pull away. But it was useless.

"No no noooooooo!" She begged her big expressive eyes looking down in horror as he carefully applied the gel.

"We don't want your nipples to explode," the brother goaded through his mask his demented exited eyes telling her differently. His fingers cupped her heaving tits so he could check his handy work; both were securely wired, greased and ready.

"Oh baby you're such a big succulent girl."

He slavered his mouth hole oozing saliva. It looked like his drug abuse had begun to catch up with him; surely lust couldn't produce that much drool?

"Time to cook your lovely fruits." He declared.

The Yank pointed to the dial on the black box lid. It was numbered 1 to 4 around the circumference.

"Let see those jugs take some punishment." He drawled his American accent clearer and seeming more surreal than the other Latino ranting.

"At max you'll pass out!" He added. "You'd best talk before then."

She scoffed in a condescending manner. "Talk? What? I don't ugggg!"

She felt the slap of the brother's hand.

"Talk like a whore," the little bastard said putting his hand upon the dial. "We want to record your filthy confession."

"Confession?" Lara opened her mouth about to tell him to fuck off and...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

The power surged up the wires to the metal teeth. Lara felt her nipples stiffen her whole breast harden then her body begin to flex involuntarily the sensation like nothing she'd ever imagined.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Her mouth made a cute oval her legs prancing like a puppet on a rope.

In a moment it was over and she had time to give a painful yelp. Her sweet cry lagged behind the surge of power like thunder after lightning.

Her body was an avalanche of perspiration the skin on her tits so taut she thought she was made of stretched rubber. She was swinging on the manacles like in a gale the men taking time to record her desperate attempts at release.

"Take deep breaths," the director said and she spluttered at his schoolteacher style.

"Oh heavens no," her mind screamed," it's time for a lesson on the limits of perversion and I'm the student."

"This is were you help us finish the movie." The director added.

"An intelligent girl like you can remember a few lines." Continued the Yank.

"I want her to make her own filthy cum loving words first." Finished the brother and she stared in anger back at him and in a high school mistress tone she snapped a reply.

"You filthy little man how dare you..."

Immediately dial turned again this time to 2 and Lara felt her breasts inflate her spine convulse her ass fart as she jerked on her rope. Her tits thrust out the clamps fizzing, the electricity feeling like two silicone implants of power trying to expand out of her body.

He held the power on longer and she gave a scream of despair her neck straining her body so tense it looked like it would snap like a twig.

Then the torment was gone again.

The camera caught the image as the power subsided Lara's body dropping limp her mouth coughing; her hair in her mouth as she gasped. The sweat was like a coat of varnish all over her body, her knees bent inwards feet wriggling like some after shock.

"Please!" she moaned. "I don't know what to say."

The brother put his hand on the dial again

"No! " She screamed. "Ok! Ok! I'm a fucking whore!"

The big Yank laughed, he was still naked his hand toying with his limp cock.

"Go on," the brother said.

There was a pause Lara unsure...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

"Three!" called out the Brother in obvious delight.

Her tits felt like needles had been pushed into them her breast almost glowing. They appeared to be inflating beyond belief. Or was that only in her crazed mind? Her eyes crossed, her hair now starting to spread out like a waking medusa, the blonde strands standing upright. Her knees collapsed in, her tongue stabbing out of her beautiful mouth licking the air in frenzy.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!"

The world was a kaleidoscope of colour and sensation the smell of electricity cracking in the air. The director could see something else. It was rare but it had been known to happen before. Her moans and flashes of expression told him something she dare not admit. The tit shocking was bringing her off.

The power stopped the world crashing down.

"Aggggggggggg stoppppppppppppppppp!"

She began to yelp over and over her legs running on the spot without her control, like some headless chicken. But her clit was also screaming fighting for her attention along with her desperate nipples.

"She's going to pop!" The Yank said finally noticing what his experience college had already surmised. The hooded director nodded back silently.

Was it the pain? Was it the surge of energy in to every fibre of her body? Or was the humiliation so black and alien that was doing it to her? She didn't know or care her body was obeying its own rules now.

"You dirty bitch," the Yank added in delight taking command of the dial. "Yes let's see it miss English prim. Fucking coming while you're wired up like a hi-fi."

The power erupted again on 3 and Lara thought the room had been flooded in strobe lighting her breasts appearing to resonate like two beating hearts, her ass clenched so tight it felt like it would suck itself inside out. Her clit felt the coursing of power through its engorged bud as if was between the teeth of a mad man.

"Oh Fuuckkkkkkkkk!" Her mind screamed in apocalyptic disbelief her thought dark and bizarre. "Can you come and die at the same time?"

Then she felt the world catch up; hit her hard flinging her back into the hot white torture room of the here and now. The squeak of her sweaty feet sliding on porcelain, the smell of electricity in the air like the perfume of a passing woman, now departed.

The power had gone again.

The saliva dripped from her mouth her suspended tied arms now the only thing stopping her from collapsing. Her knees were buckled pressing thighs onto her burning clit, her nipples now feeling more part of the jack lead device than the summits of her heavenly domes.

"Do you want a hard fucking bitch?" The brother asked to camera.

She groaned then yelped seeing his hand go to the dial again.

"Yes, yes hard fucking," she screamed in panic with her last morsels of energy.

"Are you a dirty bitch?"

"Yes cough splutter," she replied.

He moved over to the wall and picked up a long plastic rod. The thing had a tree of bristles at one end. Lara recognised it as a toilet brush. "Oh fuck!" She gasped.

"Do you want cleaning out?" He asked bringing the hard bristled brush toward her exhausted chest. He looked into her eyes then down at the dial, number 4 still beckoning.

"Yes, yes clean me out." Lara groaned embarrassed by the words as much as her naked suspended state. Her body was betraying her, clit on fire, she didn't crave sexual release just rescue from this torment.

He paused and she begged in a desperate tone fearing he preferred his dial games.

"Please fuck me with it. Do it, fuck me!"

The director focused in close on her pussy this brother fingers opening her mound.

"Spread your legs then you slut," he said calmly Lara shaking her head in disgust but doing what he commanded thinking. "Oh God no not hard. Please be gentle!"

Then she felt him push the brush upwards into her tight twat. The bristles disappeared so did most of the handle and she groaned at the spiny creature pressed on her cervix. The sensation made her clit convulse it was unable to slow the inevitable eruption no matter how much she didn't want them to see... and record.

She gave out a sensuous groan of disgust.

Then he pulled back until the bristle head was about to re-appear from her slit.

Then back in again.

Up!

Down.

Up!

Down.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

She bounced upwards trying to climb the rope trying to reduce the stuffing effect on her shaft.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh!"

The brother grunted in effort his cleaning motion increasing to a frantic stabbing. The other men were encouraging him satisfied with the expression on her face, the sight of her pussy quivering and the disgusting sloshing noise of a pipe been rifled clean.

She was in fast rhythmic grunts herself; she was coming.

"Yes that's it you slut, all the way up." He laughed adding as if she didn't already know. "I'm twisting it too, not wanting to miss any spots!"

The brother tongue was hanging from his mouth hole his enjoyment evident the American also keen to see gripping her inside knee making her open her thighs wider.

"Spread open girl!" He ordered, and Lara was stuck between keeping her legs close and increasing the brush rubbing on her inside or opening them easing the rods access but letting its head ram up against her womb.

She chose the later.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

It felt like he wanted to bury it in her tummy. The bristle head battering her dead end any second fearing he might cause her an awful injury up there.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh."

He was thrusting like he wanted to pop her head from her shoulders that was the final straw and her body surrendered to the inevitable.

The bathroom thundered with her screaming orgasm. The bristle head suddenly liquid coated the motion creating a shower of juice from her thigh wide slit. Lara's eyes rolled back white her spine arched as if the electricity was back on her pussy sucking; kneading the long hard bristled brush like a flexing fist.

The climatic lament was like a passing train; building rapidly to a defending pitch then whistling into the distance.

"What an ejaculation!" The director shouted in applauds. This bitch was a dream.

His brother withdrew the brush the bristles appearing at her labia like a strange flower its petals opening at daybreak until all was removed and the camera lens could record what a big stiff tree it had been inside her hot tight body.

The director spoke so to be heard on film." Why is she here?"

His brother relayed the question to her gripping her cheeks forcing a pout.

"Why bitch; why do you deserve this?"

The Yank pressed his mouth to her ear whispering her lines.

She shook her head the climax subsiding reality kicking in. She couldn't say that filth, young boys! No she wouldn't do it. She spat in refusal.

"No you fucks," she screamed. "I won't, I can't please just do what you want don't make me help."

The director bent down to his viewfinder he already knew what the response would bring. "I think you need to sleep on it." He said calmly.

Lara looked in total horror as the brother reached for the dial and she changed her mind. "Ok, ok I'm sorry I'll do..." But it was too late.

It was like been hit by a tidal wave of sparking glowing torrent. Her hair stood out like a crazy wig every part of her body trying to get as far way as it could from every other part. Her feet lifted from the basin her arms locked straight up her mouth open in a silent yawn eyes bulging; her throat coughing up a long inhuman wail. The air was humming the nipple clamps steaming as her tits oscillated to the current.

In seconds she was unconscious.

The director knew when she awoke she would be more willing to learn her lines.

It was a humid rain filled evening a week later when the Kiwi finally sat down to see the film. Beer in one hand his cock in the other his eyes couldn't turn away from the carnival of lust and humiliation he was watching. Even with only two cameras the production quality was pretty good. Sure some cuts were more obvious than others but nothing to upset the flow of the film.

His relationship with these sick fuckers had its benefits.

Like usual he had met the Yank in the non-descript coffee house. They did their business like a thousand times before; like a thousand other meeting around the world. But these days there was more personal business and a new world he had been introduced to. No one knew of this; no one could ever know.