Summer School & After School: The Ponygirl Omnibus Edition (34 page)

      
Someone
played with her nipples. Her breasts hung down, like fulsome white balloons,
nipples aimed towards the floor. It was not unpleasant, but given her
situation, Groff suspected that more than just play was to follow. Indeed, the
nipple manipulation was interrupted by sharp biting pain. The pain came almost
simultaneously to both tits at once. It was as if they had locked pinchers on
the nips and the pinchers were cutting into the soft pink flesh. She tried not
to scream, but a tug on the pinchers sent a sharp wave of pain through both
breasts and she hollered into the gag, trying to twist away from the pinching,
piercing double pain in her chest. She swayed in the suspension and the
stabbing pain increased as a weight was attached to the pinchers and left to
dangle below her, swinging back and forth, tugging relentlessly at each
captured nipple.

      
“Jesus,”
Groff thought.
“What are they doing to me? It feels like
they have pierced my nips and attached weights.”

      
She
was precisely correct. Two cutting rings, made from polished and springy carbon
steel wire, had been attached to her nipples at the same time. The rings were
held open by a set of reverse needle-nosed pliers that forced the razor
sharpened ends apart. When centered over the nipple, the pliers were released
and the beveled cutting ends of the rings closed instantly on the fragile tit
flesh, immediately driving into the tissue and quickly slicing through until
the spring was fully closed and the sharpened ends were seated side by side as
in a split ring. A few drops of blood oozed out around the incisions. The rings
were seated in such a way that the ends remained inside the flesh, so
externally, there were not visible. The rings appeared to be solid. Attaching a
short chain with an eight ounce weight was simple and watching Groff twist and
turn in her strap suspension was marvelously fascinating for Fabian and his
helpers.

      
“Perfect,”
shouted Fabian when the rings were in place and the weights attached. “Jean, I
know I said we wouldn’t hurt or harm you. I guess that was a bit of a lie,
although the truth remains that a couple of piercing rings in your tits isn’t
really permanently harmful. For now, these little spring steel jobs will do. In
the longer term, you’ll get a set of much sturdier stainless steel ones that
will allow you to really handle some weight. We’ll weld them on and that will
hurt quite a bit, I’m happy to say. In time too, you may come to like these, much
as others have found the combination of pain and pleasure for nipple rings can
be rewarding. Your pal, Lucy, has a permanent set and she seems to find them
useful in her work. Want to see how they look?”

      
Without
waiting for her silent reply, Fabian reached up and unfastened the eye closure
portion of the hood, opening up the eyeholes and letting light saturate Groff’s
eyes. For a moment, she was unable to see, but as the room came into focus,
Groff saw Fabian standing in front of her holding the padded panel from her
hood and smiling like an idiot. She looked into his eyes and saw what she had
always feared most. These were the eyes of a pathological maniac. There was no
fear, no compassion. There was only black emptiness.
“This man can kill without any feelings or remorse at all,”
Groff
thought as she looked around the room and realized that she was in what
amounted to a private library. The walls were full of books and the tables
around the room cluttered with newspapers and more volumes.

      
“Why am I here?”
she wondered.
“What use can I be to this Fabian? What has
he got in mind?”

      
As
she thought about it, Fabian took a step closer and answered her question.

      
“Jean
Groff, you are here for several reasons. First of all, because when I saw your
picture, I wanted you. I like your cool, chic looks, your long black hair, your
great body, your smart assed attitude. I like your ass and your nice firm tits
and I am sure that when I get a chance, I will like and enjoy your sweet pussy.
But you are also here because you and your little friends got too close to me.
You should be proud of that. You figured out what the cops couldn’t or wouldn’t
ever get. But that knowledge is costing you. It is costing your pals as well.”

      
Groff
blinked to clear her vision and wondered why the hell he was telling her this.
What was to follow? She wondered.

      
“I
don’t like being shadowed,” Fabian continued. “And I certainly don’t like
having snoops like you, who have no idea what they are messing with. Mess with
me. Your dear client will never see either of his lovely daughters again and
you and your puny gang will simply vanish and become additional trinkets in my
collection.”

      
That
statement rang a gong in Groff’s head.
“Either
daughter?”
she wondered.
“Does von
Holt have another daughter? Is she in danger as well?”
 

      
“Pay
attention,” Fabian shouted, slapping Groff’s face. The blow was hard enough to
sting through the hood’s thin leather and she tried to refocus on what he was
saying.

      
“As
we speak, dear Lucy and her younger sister, Brenda, have been absorbed into the
Hanging Ten, or is it Nine? What the hell, I can’t keep track of this. You
bitches keep arriving faster than I can count.” He laughed at what was a joke
only he really understood.

      
“So
the main display here is now The Hanging Twelve or whatever. Soon, you will
make it Thirteen and if the big
titted
bitch from
Berlin,
Bibi
, makes the prescribed arrival tonight,
she will also join you. With fourteen, things around here will start to get
cluttered, so don’t expect to be here after New Years. I have formulated an
interesting program, which, if it comes to fruition, will make use of this
entire little combo, namely you,
Bibi
, Lucy and
Brenda. Did I miss anyone?

      
“After
providing suitable entertainment for me and my guests, you will all enter the
plant life arena to be called upon from time to time to service anyone who can
afford it. Otherwise, you’ll just hang around until the next phase of my plans,
sucking down a bit of needed nutrition and hydration now and then, shitting a fine
liquid stream into a tube plugged into your ass and getting a daily enema or
two just to make sure you don’t grow a belly or get fat. You’ll piss into a
tube as well and that, my little investigator, is the portrait of your new
life.”

      
Groff
blinked her eyes, unable to move anything else, mentally filing away this
information and wondering if any or all of it would actually happen. There was,
she knew, good evidence that Fabian and his crew had the ability and the
resources to perhaps carry out such a threat, but the immensity of it
astonished her. If
Bibi
was to join the captured
assembly, then that meant that
Mickeal
was also in
danger. The picture Fabian painted was indeed possible, but based on the
current situation, not at all in their favor.

***

      
Fabian’s
plan picked up momentum with
Bibi’s
arrival. Stashed
in the cellar room temporarily,
Bibi
was soon added
to the hanging bunch where she joined the newly acquired Groff in one of the
few remaining steel body cages. With her usual sense of humor,
Bibi
added this time to her already overbalanced record of
time spent in captivity and bondage vs. time without same. The future, based on
what she knew, was equally unbalanced and bleak.

Makora

      
Fabian
toyed with the
Microtech
Makora
.
In terms of its operation, it was simple, but in its design and construction,
it was an astonishingly complex knife, built to very close tolerances and
functioning efficiently and with high reliability. He had never seen one before
and when he took it from
Mickeal’s
boot, he first
thought it was a retracted baton like Groff’s ASP. Only when he pushed the
small rectangular switch on the side and the double-edged, two-tone, dagger
blade leapt out of the top of the slim handle did Fabian realize that this was
an entirely different weapon. To call such a weapon a switchblade is a gross
misstatement, for in comparison, the traditional switchblade is a crude knife
with a hinged, thin blade, favored by hoods and generally scorned by law
enforcement and military as cheap and unreliable. Fabian played with
Mickeal’s
Makora
the way he would
have played with a new pistol, firing and retracting the blade over and over
again, entranced by its efficiency and simple operation, which camouflaged the
brilliantly perfect design. The knife had no visible safety, which surprised
Fabian, but that was not important and he eventually stuck the black knife into
his right hand pocket, using the spring pocket clip to keep it there.

      
Two
floors below in the sub basements of the stone house on the side of the hill in
Mala
Strana
,
Bibi
once
again found herself in chains and contemplating the continuing misfortunes of
working this assignment. Her present predicament was more uncomfortable than
usual because they had taken time to make absolutely certain that every chain
was as tight as it could be. She wore the usual waist chain and collar, plus
leather discipline hood with a massively intrusive penis gag stuffed into her
mouth and halfway down her throat. Her ankles were closely bound together by
two cuffs welded side by side and her legs were similarly fastened with larger
cuffs just below and above her knees. Her arms were behind her, elbows touching
and bound with metal clamps that pressed the wrists and upper arms side by
side.

      
The
new twist was a pair of leg shackles locked around the bases of her breasts.
This little addition had been fitted with considerable difficulty, for
Bibi’s
naturally large breasts hung on her chest in such a
way that the bases, the roots, of the double D sized mounds, were thick and
broad across her chest. There was very little droop to these tits and, as a
result, fitting the steel ratchet cuffs around the bases was difficult. Each
time the woman who was doing the work closed one of the shackles, it would slip
off the breast. She tried several tactics and finally used rope. She first
wound the rope around the girl’s chest twice, once above and once below the
breasts and tied it off. Then she tied a long piece of thin line to the chest
ropes and then began to encircle each breast around the base, slowly increasing
the tension as the tissue blossomed outward, away from the constricting rope.
When the circle of rope was smaller than the resulting pear-shaped and shiny,
stretched tit, the woman locked the shackle around the same area and cut the
rope. This process was painful in the extreme. When completed,
Bibi’s
tits stuck almost straight outward, forced away from
her chest by the pressure of the double steel circlets. The woman doing the
work decided to enhance the job by connecting a thin chain to the side of one
shackle and running it around behind
Bibi’s
back,
pulling it tight and locking it to the other shackle. This created additional
tension and pain because now the shackles were held tightly against
Bibi’s
chest wall and the breasts were pulled further
apart.
Bibi
knelt in the cell, a short heavy chain
from her collar locked to a ring on the wall. Since she could neither speak,
hear nor see, she had to content herself with useful thoughts. She considered
that in the total time spent thus far working for Groff, more than half of it
she had spent in some sort to kinky bondage.
“It must go with the territory,”
she thought.
“Not everyone could possibly be this into the bondage scene.”

      
The
question now was who was going to rescue her? She knew that Groff was already a
prisoner and that
Mickeal
was either dead or badly
hurt from their encounter with the truck full of men that ran them off the
road, crashed the Mini and left him and
Bibi
easy
targets for yet another forcible abduction.

      
They
had been speeding along the autobahn-like highway back toward Amsterdam when
the truck that was following them pulled up alongside in a deserted area and
punted the Mini Cooper off the road, across the shoulder and into the woods.
Bibi
was driving and all she could do was brake carefully
and aim the little car at anything that wasn’t a tree. They hit something that
flung the car onto its side and it slid to a screeching stop and all of the
car’s air bags fired at once, pinning them to their seats.
Mickeal
was bleeding from his forehead and didn’t move.
Bibi
,
in shock from the impact and the air bags, could not unfasten her seat belt for
several minutes. When she recovered enough to start to climb out of the Mini,
there were four men with H&K, 9mm sub machine guns surrounding her. They
quickly bound, gagged and blindfolded her, wrapped her in a blanket, shoved her
into the back of the truck and drove for hours and hours with only stops for
fuel and probably a change of drivers. They crossed one border, which
Bibi
assumed was into either Czech Republic or Switzerland
and then drove for some time more before they arrived at their present
location, in a major city, judging from the traffic noise.

      
Bibi
was concerned about
Mickeal
and wasn’t exactly sure if the kidnappers had taken him from the car or not.
Since they kept her wrapped in a blanket and blindfolded for the trip, which
took nearly an entire night and day, she had no clue as to his fate. Now she
was again in chains, locked in what seemed to be an old prison cell with the
requisite iron rings mounted around the walls and in the floor. She was naked
and on her knees, with hands and arms bound behind her back, a chain running
from a steel collar down her back to the elbow clamps, then to the manacles,
then on to a pair of heavy shackle bands on her feet. A separate chain was
around her waist and connected to a ring on the floor, keeping her within its
short radius. The gag she wore was pretty much the same old thing she was by now
accustomed to, a fat rubber penis with a strap through it, buckled behind her
head.
Bibi
remained lying on her side when she awoke.
Her bondage prevented her from getting into any other position. No matter how
she struggled to try to rearrange her bondage, she was stuck lying down. She
wondered about
Mickeal
, knowing that if he was found
alive in the wrecked Mini, there was a chance that someone would try to find
out what happened to her. If
Mickeal
was gone, then
the safety connection was also severed and it would take much longer for anyone
to piece together the series of events. It would take even longer to link all
of this with Lucy’s disappearance and with the search that her father had
initiated.

      
What
Bibi
did not know was that
Mickeal
was alive and slowly recuperating from the auto crash. Fabian’s men removed him
from the twisted Mini and took him in a separate car to the Greenhouse. As soon
as they searched him, they found the
Makora
in his
boot and relieved him of it. When Fabian looked over the contents of
Mickeal’s
pockets, his eyes locked on the
Makora
. One of his men picked it up and showed him the
firing button on the side, commenting that it was perhaps some sort of gravity
knife. Not realizing that he was holding the knife backwards, he pressed the
button and the blade erupted from the knife, puncturing his shirt, but stopping
short of penetrating the skin of his stomach as he held it closely. The man
jumped back, astonished that he had not mortally stabbed himself.

      
“Look
at that,” he said unevenly, putting his finger through the hole in his shirt
and then gingerly sliding the blade back and forth. “It’s loose. Not locked.”

      
Fabian
took the knife cautiously, examining it and pushing the razor sharp blade
forward until it suddenly locked in the extended position. He then pushed the
firing button and the blade retracted.

      
“This
thing has a safety built in,” Fabian said, amazed, “so if it goes off in your
pocket it won’t penetrate your leg. What a clever design. I’ll hang onto this,”
he added.

***

      
Mickeal
sustained some minor scratches and a large bump on
his head, but the Mini’s multiple airbags saved his life and
Bibi’s
as well. His problem now, however, was that he was
locked up on a small windowless cell several levels below the Mala
Strana
house. Because Fabian decided that he must be kept
safe and unharmed, his bondage consisted only of handcuffs behind his back and
a chain locked around his neck and fastened to the stone wall.
Mickeal
assumed that
Bibi
was
also a prisoner in this place, but he did not know that Groff and the von Holt
sisters were also Fabian’s involuntary guests. Once he stopped seeing stars and
blurred vision,
Mickeal
began to plot his escape. He
had to admit to himself, however, that he had no idea whatsoever as to how he
might accomplish this.