Chapter 36: Opening Up

Instead of returning the girl home, Angique told Arnold to drive on to the Club. There she took her straight to Villa. Alicia was obviously exhausted, but Angique didn't allow her to sleep. She stood her against the wall and slapped her face to keep her awake. Alicia's head lolled back and forth on her shoulders as Angique tore the remaining tatters off her body. Then she walked her over to a horizontal brass bar and forced her to push her belly against its cold, slick surface. She made the girl bend over until she hung on it, the bar being just high enough to make her feet dangle an inch over the floor. She knelt down and chained the girl's wrists to her ankles, before squeezing the feet into crazily heeled platform whore-hooves. They allowed her to reach the floor and stand, stretching her calf muscles and pushing her ass even higher. Finally Angique kicked the legs to spread further, locking her stance with a bar between her ankles. Alicia whimpered but never protested. Her hair hung down, sweeping the floor.

Angique walked off to her bedroom, returning with an intricately carved wooden box. From it she took a fragile chain that ended in silver clamps. Resting her hand on the girl's ass, she bent down to be closer to Alicia's hanging face. As she did, she ran one clamp all the way down the girl's inner thigh, scratching the soft skin's surface.

"You are seriously under-dressed, don't you agree, honey?" she whispered, catching Alicia's inverted eyes. She reached for a tit and pinched a dangling nipple. "You do need some jewelry." She pushed her face in and took the rubbery tip in her mouth, suckling it hard before closing the cruel clamp around the nipple. It made the girl gasp. The other clamp went over the ring that pierced the left tit's nipple. It allowed the emerald lily to swing freely. Angique pulled at the chain to see if both clamps were safely attached, making Alicia moan. Then she got small lead weights from the box and hung them from the chain like a row of heavy charms on a necklace. They caused the nipples to stretch painfully. They also chimed merrily when they collided.

"Lovely," she said, rising. "I envy you, girl." Then she smacked the high ass and left the room to take a shower. After half an hour she returned with one towel wrapped around her body, another around her hair. She took out her laptop, placing it on the girl's raised ass, checking her e-mail. Next she got a chilled glass of white wine and made a few business calls. All the time she ignored Alicia and treated her like just another piece of furniture. The girl didn't say a word.

"You seem wet, honey," Angique suddenly said, roughly groping the girl's cunt. It made Alicia start, but again she kept silent.

"It would seem that you enjoy this, darling," Angique said. "It sure makes you look good." She walked away without stopping to hear a response. When she returned, she carried a large bottle that contained a fragrant oil. She poured it all over the girl, rubbing it into her skin. Then she massaged her back and thighs, her belly and tits, but soon concentrated on the star of her asshole.

"You know, honey slut," she said, slipping the first digit of a finger into the clenching sphincter. "You have tried to slow down our Journey. It's high time we continue, don't you agree? We lingered at the First Gate way too long." A second finger joined the first. "Understandably," Angique went on, chuckling, "as it was such an enjoyable experience!" She spread her fingers, stretching the oil-soaked ring.

Alicia moaned; the muscles of her thighs twitched under the shining skin. She had been ass-fucked by her husband, years ago and not too often — his cock was entirely too big. Lately fingers and even tongues had visited her there to spice up the lesbian love play — but it hadn't been often either, and far between. Angique's voice penetrated her musing:

"I have been too lenient with you, little whore, don't you agree?" She ignored a possible answer and started spanking the girl's ass cheeks while going on with the probing. Her slapping hand slid off the oiled skin, but fiery prints bloomed anyway.

"I do hope you didn't forget ... what the Second Gate ... is all about, girl," she said in between smacks. "But I'm sure ... you will remember ... after tonight."

She stopped the spanking and the probing of the girl's asshole. Then she left her alone — draped obscenely over the bar. Alicia was confused by her conflicting feelings. She knew she ought to be utterly miserable. The brutal visit at the priest's house had left her exhausted, mentally and physically. And now, being chained and bent over, her mind retired even further. Her body was an object — a disregarded object to boot. Her legs' muscles felt tight and wooden; her tits were numb and so were her toes, squeezed into the tight porn shoes. Her head buzzed from hanging down. Yes, she should be feeling miserable — so why wasn't she?

Angique's spanking had been a perverse but welcome break from the endless waiting. The prodding of her ass hole had been uncomfortable at first. Later on she'd enjoyed the warm currents that had radiated from its center. But now she was alone again, bent over, legs spread wide, knees overstretched, waiting. Waiting for what? Maybe for nothing. Maybe Angique had gone to bed? Maybe she would be left standing like this all night?

Alicia waited for the rush of panic this thought would provoke, but it never came — no anxiety, no claustrophobia. She just felt calm, numb. Things seemed right, in a way. She was in a place where she belonged. She had let Angique down and now she was punished. The world was simple that way, and right in its simplicity. She loved simplicity — it should clean up the mess she had made of her life. Crime must be followed by punishment, sin by repentance, guilt by remorse.

Wasn't that what simple justice was all about?

She must have dozed off. The searing pain flashed like lightning across her unconscious mind. Her paralyzed muscles exploded, making her tremble on the tall pins of her tied down hooves. She screamed. The weights on her swaying tits drew new and unexpected pain. Then another slash tore across her thighs ≠— another and yet another.

It must have still been night, she didn't see a thing — there were only sounds, but they seemed to spark off visible pain. The sounds of a cracking whip turned into blinding explosions; the grunts of the woman wielding it, became the blood red image of a pulsing heart.

Then everything stopped again, just as suddenly, leaving her backside on fire. Cool air touched the heat until a sweat soaked body wrapped itself around her — a soft belly, sweet tits, hugging arms. A voice breathed in her ear, but it took ages for her to understand.

"Liciaaaaah," it said. "Don't sleep. Don't ever sleep while I punish youhhhh." Hands reached for her tits, yanking hard at the chain. The clamps tore off her nipples. A sudden wave of pain almost robbed her of her consciousness when the blood rushed back into the numbed flesh. A rivulet of piss trickled down her thigh. She cried out and then felt her mouth babble words she had no control over. Words like 'please' and 'mistress' and 'forgive me.' They were words that sent warm shivers through her body — shivers of gratitude; shivers of happiness that just as suddenly drowned in a sea of tears.

The night returned.

She must have slept again. When she awoke, her body was ice cold. A ghostly dawn had replaced the darkness. She smelled urine. She also saw vomit, splattered on the floor below her dangling hair. Its sour stench made her nostrils flare. Her back ached; so did her ass and the backside of her thighs. Her nipples felt sore.

Clacking heels were upon her before she noticed them approaching. The warm hand on her marble skin made her tremble. It slowly caressed her ass cheeks, tracing the welts that the whip had left.

"Morning, honey," Angique's voice said, upbeat and energetic. "Did you sleep well?" The chuckle was sympathetic; there wasn't a trace of sarcasm in it.

"Wow," Angique went on as her fingers touched the soft insides of the girl's thighs. She sniffed. "But you stink, darling. You need a good shower, don't you?" She chuckled again, softer now. It ended when her open hand slapped Alicia's right ass cheek.

"But not yet, girl!" she said. "Let's not put off the second stage of our Journey any longer; now is as good a moment as ever to continue, don't you agree?" The hand had crept to the tightly closed ass hole; the soft pressure of a fingertip reminded the girl of the probing, earlier on. She moaned, more in anticipation than in response.

"Before this morning is over, honey, you'll be fucked in your ass by a monster cock," Angique informed Alicia as she pried the closed sphincter open. "You also will be wearing your first-ever training-plug. Aren't you excited?" Angique wondered how to interpret the elongated moan. Ah, well, she shrugged and left the girl dangling to get dressed and have some work done.

About an hour later Angique returned, dressed to the nines in one of her almost-business outfits —≠ a white, half-open blouse under a tightly laced black silk waist cincher and a short leather jacket. Her charcoal pencil-skirt ended on her calves, which were sheathed in knee-high, well-heeled boots. Their laces ran up through endless rows of eyelets.

"Sorry, honey," she said, donning a transparent latex apron to protect her outfit. "The monster ass-fuck has to wait a bit, I'm afraid. Business raised its ugly head, I have to leave for a while."

Alicia stirred when the hand touched her. She cleared her throat. Her entire body was numb. Blood circulation must have slowed down to a trickle.

"Please, Mistress," she croaked.

"Please what, honey slut?" Angique replied.

"Please, I need to pee." The voice was small, childlike. Angique chuckled, softly patting the girl's ass.

"No problem, darling," she said. "Do whatever you need to; there will be nobody you might offend." There was another groan, but Alicia didn't relieve herself.

"Whatever suits you, honey," Angique said after a pause, her fingers touching the girl's cunt lips. She then turned towards a silver tray that held several objects. She picked up a plastic bag filled with a warm, soapy liquid. A tube ran from it, ending in a nozzle. She pressed it against the girl's asshole, making Alicia shudder.

"Open up, honey. As from today you will be doing this first thing every morning until it becomes routine. Please relax more and it won't hurt."

The black tip of the nozzle slid past the tight sphincter. Angique raised the bag, squeezing it to force the liquid into the girl's bowels. She chuckled softly when Alicia started to groan.

"I need my girls clean, honey. I bet you understand," Angique whispered. "Keep it in for just a few more minutes."

Alicia's buttocks churned around the nozzle, a movement that got more urgent when the obvious pressure in her belly increased — not to mention the increased pressure on her bladder. Five minutes went by before Angique said, "good girl," and lifted a bucket under the spread thighs.

"Let go, honey," she then said, pulling out the nozzle. A brownish, malodorous liquid gushed from the hole, accompanied by a long sigh from Alicia.

"God, girl, you stink!" Angique exclaimed, laughing out loud and slapping the girl's ass cheeks. When the flush petered out into a mere trickle, she picked up another bag and repeated the process. She left Alicia dripping while she took out the buckets. When she returned, she carried a large syringe. It had a long, fat nozzle that she pressed against the tight O of the girl's sphincter.