Summer School & After School: The Ponygirl Omnibus Edition (35 page)

Cycle

      
The
four naked women were not enjoying the simulated, virtual motor cycle ride. For
what seemed like hours, they stayed strapped to the cycle simulators and taken,
virtually, over miles and miles of roads. Some of the virtual roads were smooth
and allowed very high speeds with accompanying vibration and wind force. But
most roads were rough and twisty with jumps and humps that delivered exactly
what Fabian intended: a thrilling and painful simulated ride that never ended.

      
Bibi
and Lucy shared the Nomad, a high tech ninja design,
road bike that had heavy-duty suspension and a deep seat that just barely
accommodated the two girls’ butts. It was a tight fit even though both girls
were slim and had little extra meat on their asses. Fabian seated
Bibi
first, making sure that the fat, massive, anchored
leather
dildoe
was deeply dodged up her cunt and
strapping her waist and legs to the narrow machine. She was bent over the
simulated fuel tank that had been adapted to more unpleasant functions with
indentations in the empty fuel tank. Each deep cavity housed twin suction cups
that seized her breasts and pulled them into the empty void of the tank. Before
putting her on the bike, Fabian’s assistants snapped nipple caps onto
Bibi’s
nipples. These contained half-inch long hollow
needles, like hypodermics. Inserting the needles and then snapping the clips
closed brought
Bibi
to a new height of pain, well
beyond anything she had previously experienced. To add to this, ordinary
handcuffs were locked around the base of each breast, squeezing the root tissue
into a small diameter and causing the clipped, hose-bearing nipples to jut out
even further. The skin on her clamped breasts quickly took on a shiny, reddened
look as the cuffs reduced blood flow to the captive flesh. The hoses attached
to the clips disappeared into the fuel tank and when they pushed
Bibi
forward, her large globular tits fitted perfectly into
the tank’s indentations.
   
Bibi’s
wrists were strapped to the handlebars and her
elbows strapped and pulled down to the sides of the bike. Her booted feet and
calves were pulled back and strapped tightly as well. Her head was snugly
encapsulated in a faux helmet, which was intended to do two things: the visor
provided a startlingly vivid visual presentation of the terrain they were
“riding” through and the rest of the hard hat kept a mouth filling,
jaw-stretching gag in place. Side straps anchored the helmet in a fixed
position allowing no head movement.

      
“Consider
this a multi-functional situation,” Fabian said to them, as he walked around
the two bikes. Several assistants continued to work on preparing the girls for
their ride and Fabian inspected each strap, each cuff, making sure everything
was tight and functional.

      
Behind
Bibi
, the nude, (except for knee-high boots), form of
Lucy seemed to be clinging to
Bibi
and was equally
immobile in the tiny cramped seat. Lucy’s breasts were crushed into
Bibi’s
bent back, her nipples enclosed in tiny clamping
capsules. Around her waist she wore a narrow leather belt with a crotch strap
that provided support for the strap-on
dildoe
that
was driven up
Bibi’s
intimately close ass. A second
belt held her on the bike and more straps forced her against
Bibi
and into the seat. She wore the same helmet style as
Bibi
and saw the same visual presentations. Before the bike
got under way, the suction hoses on
Bibi’s
nipples
were activated and the painful process of milking her tits began.

      
“We’re
going to start this process,” Fabian said, “with a very nominal requirement of,
let’s say, about fifteen cc’s. If you give us that now, we’ll shut off the
suction. The longer it takes, well…the longer you stay here and suffer.”

      
“Shit,”
Bibi
thought.
“Why the hell does he keep
fucking with my tits? Isn’t there anything else this guy wants to screw with?
Besides, I’m not a lactating mother. How in hell will they get anything out of
me, let alone fifteen cc’s?”

      
“Oh yes. I nearly forgot,” Fabian
interrupted her thoughts, as though he read them. “You have been getting a
couple of hormones in your water since you were first taken. This began back at
the old windmill site, so by now, your system is likely to be producing a bit
of growth in your tits and likewise, increased milk production. Enjoy.”

      
Jean
Groff and Brenda sat perched in the bigger leather seat of the simulated
Harley. The big road bike with its massive twin cylinders was a vibration
center that shook enough to unseat the internal organs of riders over time.
Harley designers, it seemed, worked hard to give the bike a noisy and
uncomfortable ride. It was, after all, the trademark that had for decades
driven otherwise intelligent men and women to acquire and ride the ungainly
beasts with their primitive suspension, unique and arcane belt drive and
entirely unnecessary noise. Even at idle, the engine shook the entire bike
enough to jolt loose the kidneys of any rider or passenger, so a kidney belt,
(or in this case, a nice, tight corset), had become the safer option for
virtual Harley Riders just as the real thing had been required in the early
days. This simulation emulated one of especially unstable early bikes that had
to be constantly throttled to keep it from stalling and Groff and Brenda both
received the full impact of the hammering vibration as the bike went up and
down through the gears at various speeds, over smooth and rough roads, driving
the attached double
dildoes
with insane redundancy
into their lower apertures.

      
Groff
wore an elaborate rubber corset, laced to maximum tightness, which included an
additional Fabian-designed item: a leather bra with holes for her nipples and
lined with tiny sharp points which rubbed and scarred her breasts as the bike
shook and rattled. She was strapped into the seat with her body upright in the
normal riding position, so her entire weight drove her down and onto the
slippery probes. The recently attached nipple rings with their cutting ends had
already driven completely through the firm nipple flesh and now served as
painful anchors for the twin chains that led to the handlebars of the bike.
Turning the bike resulted in tugging on either the left or right tit with the
accompanying discomfort for Groff.

      
Throughout
her extensive training and career as special investigator, Groff had been educated
in the details and nuances of sadistic torture. She was taught some of the
techniques to reduce or bypass the physical and mental discomfort required to
sustain and survive interrogation torture. She had even, on occasion, used the
same techniques in extracting information needed from a prisoner, but she
assiduously avoided any actual torture, both out of personal principles and
legal restrictions. When captured by Fabian and his gang, Groff’s initial
thoughts quickly turned to the accounts of Lucy’s disappearance and the
previously expressed suspicions of many of her fellow agents that Lucy had been
abducted and sold to slavers. Her peers were further convinced that if this
happened, the buyers and sellers of humans, having no convictions, constraints or
moral compunction about doing whatever they pleased with her, Lucy would soon
be reduced to a slobbering hunk of
fuckable
female
flesh.

      
The
addition of Brenda into the equation complicated matters somewhat, but Groff
couldn’t see what difference it really made except that it might intensify von
Holt’s efforts to find the missing women. Lucy had been gone for more than a
year and now with Brenda also gone, von Holt would probably be spending more
money to bring even greater and more intense pressure to bear.

      
“
Anything is possible with money
,” Groff
thought. “
But the real driver in this
case seems to be sex.”

      
As
Brenda shuddered behind her, (probably, Groff thought, from another orgasm
brought on by an especially rough piece of road they were traversing on the
bike), Groff continued to mull over the history of the entire case, trying to
align the events in a way that made some sense to her, considering the overall
role of sex and sexual abuse that thus far seemed to fit into the entire big
picture:

Lucy and Fabian travel around Europe for
several months as a couple, but had no sex in the relationship.

Lucy gets abducted by Fabian, supposedly
because he is pissed at being kicked out of her bed for months. Sex is part of
the problem.

Lucy is sent to the Vermont Riding
School for slave and pony training, but, unlike most others at the farm, is not
physically modified and is eventually shipped back as a draft pony. Erotic,
kinky sex is an integral part of the training.

Lucy goes to VNR for more specific pony
training and is used as a sex slave by a silent order of nuns and clergy.

Next, she is sent to a silver mine run
by sadistic Asians. Again, sex is at the top of their training techniques.

Then she is brought to Fabian’s Prague
Greenhouse facility and added to his growing collection of slave women, hanging
in a suspended cage and constantly being fucked and molested. The entire
operation is based on sexual abuse.

Brenda and Glenda are added to the mix
without any apparent reason and Brenda seems more or less ambivalent about her
captivity. Apparently, sex is what Fabian has in mind for her.

Groff and
Bibi
fall into the trap but are treated the same as the sisters. Most of their abuse
is topically physical without doing any long-term damage and no efforts seem to
be made to change anything else. Sex devices are part of the process.

They are fucked, impaled, pierced,
chained, strap and rope bound and caged, but so far, no moves have been made to
take them down any clear corridor towards slavery, sale or physical change.
Unlike the girls at the Summer School, these four have had no body mods at all.
Again, sex is at the top of the list in terms of treatment.

      
“
All very strange
,” Groff thought, as the
cycle once again picked up speed, the thin chains on her nipples seemed to pull
a bit tighter and
Bibi
groaned behind her, trying to
shift her weight a bit on the impaling dongs and inadvertently driving Groff’s
ass plug a bit deeper.

      
Groff’s
personal inventory of S&M techniques did not include the motorcycle
simulation and although she was trying not to allow the sexual stimulation to
get to her, she had to admit that she now, perhaps better than ever before,
understood the issues surrounding such practices. The twin
dildoes
pumping away in her lower regions were something she had never experienced. Her
lovers, past and present, were pretty much straight men and even her chance
encounters with the occasional female lover were almost always little more than
straight and endearing sex. Because of her job, Groff avoided short and
long-term relationships. She also avoided, although at times had considered,
some of the more esoteric encounters she heard described by her friends. The
idea of immersing herself in an erotic scene and participating in the broad range
of kinky situations and events was always hanging there in her mental closet.
The “what if?” elements she contemplated did not include the very situation she
now found herself in.

      
On
the job, more than once, she’d been on the scene of an S&M session gone
wrong, intentionally or by accident, and it always gave her pause to consider
why and how the event happened and why and how it had gone awry.

      
Now,
here, astride the shaking Harley simulator with Brenda pressed against her
back, she was conflicted between the intense physical input from multiple parts
of her anatomy and her emotional restraints, which told her to resist the
feelings and try to escape. Of course, escape seemed far away because she was
unable to see or hear anything other than the
sim’s
input. She wore the same style helmet as the other three girls and saw the same
scenes in the LCD interior visor. Groff chewed on the mouth-stuffing gag and
continued to struggle against the bonds that held her firm in the bike’s
saddle-like seat.

      
As
an added treat for his captive guests, Fabian integrated a few real time visual
clips of the two bikes and their involuntary occupants in the simulator room.
Watching the four nearly naked figures hump and bump across the virtual
landscape of Baja California and the Spanish plateau was enough to get anyone
off, even if they didn’t have two greasy prongs jumping up and down in their
cunt and ass. The four girls endured the long ride, sweating and experiencing
one orgasm after another as the bikes slowed and took tight corners, then sped
up and sent faster vibrations up from the seats and into their lower bodies.
Bibi
and Lucy shared the experience with a mixture of
shrieks, groans and yelps as the real bike reacted to the dramatic input from
the program. On the bigger bike, Groff and Brenda seemed more resistant, more
stoic.