Tombstone (6 page)

Tombstone studied the picture of the sculpture lying on the table beside him.
 
He turned and gripped the woman’s jaw.
 
“Open.”
 
A sob escaped when Claudine parted her lips and she dug her nails into her palms.
 
Her arms throbbed from where they were crushed between her back and the stiff wood of the chair, and once more she tried to plead with her eyes.
 
She had no idea that with her eyebrows removed her face now showed a perpetual look of surprise.

“Wider,” he demanded.
 
Another quiet sob escaped, and she opened her mouth a little more.
 
The fingers gripping her jaw tightened and Claudine felt the strength in his hand.
 
His thumb stroked down her cheek in a strange, tender caress.
 
“Open fucking wider, slut,” he ordered in his calm, low voice.
 
She stared into his eyes and Tombstone felt the muscles in her neck straining.
 
He studied her gaping lips, and then he reached into the drawer and pulled out a rubber ring, placing it against her cheek to check the size.
 
It had to be big to ensure she would not be able to move her mouth or jaws once it was in place.

Claudine panicked when the man began squeezing the thick rubber ring behind her teeth.
 
She tried to close her lips, intending to clench her teeth, when his words froze her.
 
“Do you need some quiet, dark alone time to consider things?”

Claudine’s mind snapped to the paralyzing darkness of the coffin.
 
She quivered and forced her jaws open again.
 
Please.
 
This has to be some kind of nightmare.
 
I’m sorry.
 
Please.
 
Let me talk to Mr. Strickland.
 
This is a mistake.
 
Even as she prayed the thoughts, the panicking revelation that it was Donald that had arranged all this, dissolved any hope.
 
Her jaws were already aching after only a minute of stretching.

Tombstone grabbed a damp cloth and scoured the thinned remaining makeup off her face.
 
Using a gooey clear gel, he coated her head from her collarbone all the way up to her remaining hairline, including her eyelids.
 
Next, two small tubes filled her nostrils, sticking out about an inch.
 
He molded wax into her ear canals and anchored tubes into the plugs.
 
There was no way that Claudine could control her shuddering, and she wailed when he lifted the small bucket of plaster.

Tombstone loved watching their fear, and as he coated her face he soaked in her terror, glancing at her tongue roaming wildly around her mouth.
 
The white paste covered everything but the shock of hair and her wide amber eyes, coating to the inside edge of her lips.
 
He used a thin stick to dig a trench in the thickening plaster from shoulder to shoulder.
 
Scooping more plaster, Claudine screamed when he slathered it over one lid.
 
He sat back staring at the one wild brown eye searching around the room.
 
With the other eye sealed behind the white coat, Tombstone imagined she was winking at him.
 
He winked back… and plastered her other eye closed.

Claudine was entombed into a different terrifying darkness.
 
She could not hear or see, and her pried aching jaws barely registered through her fear.
 
The cool plaster was heating as it dried to hardness.
 
She felt the man’s hands on her pussy again, and she wailed in her dark torture and strained to close her thighs.
 
Once more, smooth fingers spread her.
 
Up and down, in and out, gently caressing her clit.
 
Angry wailing and distorted curses streamed from her pried jaws.
 
Claudine could only hear them echoing in her mind.

Something slick slid into her pussy.
 
At first she thought he was fucking her, but then she realized it was some sort of silicone phallus.
 
In and out it was pumped, while fingers stroked her up and down, over her clit, spreading her creamy response to his touch, filling her with a desire she should not be feeling, tweaking her nerves to a place that did not belong here, pushing her into a shattering orgasm that could only be experienced when no other senses were left to her.
 
Echoing through her black thoughts, she heard him call her a slut.

She felt a rapping at the side of her stone mask, persistently tapping and moving along the line of the trench he had carved.
 
A relieved sob escaped through the ring when Claudine realized he was separating the plaster.
 
He worked slowly, and she remained frozen through the agonizing minutes, afraid to move… afraid that he would change his mind… and leave her locked in the plaster prison if she disobeyed.

At last the casing separated and the two halves lay on the table beside him.
 
His thumbs ran over the inside of the mold, and Claudine did not want to think of the reason he had made it.
 
A small part of her wanted the safety of her coffin… and maybe to join her husband.

For the rest of the day, he left her chained to the pipe while he worked in the other room.
 
Though her hands were still locked behind her, Claudine was free to walk back and forth and stare at the coffin and study the room.
 
It was after another bowl of bland oatmeal for lunch that she noticed a small copper plate fixed into the lid of the casket.
 
‘Room One’.
 
She shuddered causing her pried jaws to ache again, after the small measure of comfort from numbness.
 
How many other ‘Rooms’ did the man have?

Tombstone worked silently, coating the plaster head first with a releasing agent, and then a build up of rubber.
 
The mask would be made of a thinner compound and slightly more pliable than the rest of the costume he would make her.
 
He selected the dye from his many colors and stirred it into the bucket.
 
After applying each coat, he smoothed around the edges of the mouth opening, eyes, nostrils, and ears, patiently drying each of the five thin coats until the mask had a thickness just shy of a quarter inch.

It was a remarkable compound that had the appearance of being a solid glossy finish.
 
In reality, there were indiscernible pores through the surface to let the skin breathe underneath.
 
It had taken two days for him to finish the mask, and he sat back to look at his creation.
 
The woman,
Claudine?
 
Tombstone shrugged.
 
Her name made no difference.
 
She had been pacing and dragging the chain, and he only saw her when he fed her, ordered her to shower, and lifted her in and out of the casket to sleep.

Tombstone stretched the rubber off the form, already imagining it surrounding her head.
 
His cock jerked and his balls filled with warm excitement.
 
He rubbed his stiff rod.
 
Soon.
 
He had tried having sex with them when he captured them, but he quickly softened in disgust and went limp.
 
Only when the shining latex covered their heads and eventually their bodies, could he thrust to triumphant climax as a reward for his artistic accomplishment.

For two days he had left her alone, and Claudine was nervously grateful.
 
She knew it would not last forever, and despair set in when she discovered no possible way to escape.
 
She was sitting on the floor, her stretched lips slightly raw from where she had rubbed against the wall, trying to dislodge the ring.
 
When she looked up, she was startled to see him approaching her with a sadistic shine illuminating his blue eyes.
 
Claudine whimpered and pressed into the wall.

“Up.”
 
He grabbed her arm and lifted her.

He’s so strong.
 
Claudine trembled when he unhooked the chain to lead her to the other room.
 
No, oh please.
 
She sobbed, her tongue sweeping wildly around her mouth while her toes tried to grip into the rough plank floor and her legs straightened, pushing back in protest.
 
A large hand smashed down on her bottom, stinging and heating her cheeks.
 
Claudine was horrified to feel a leak of arousal drip from her pussy.

Again she was bound to the chair with the cool leather belts.
 
The man removed her collar and she shrieked when she saw the rubber mask.
 
It was so form fitting and tight, it took fifteen minutes to squeeze it over her head.
 
Another fifteen minutes were spent pulling her hair through a two-inch opening at the top and lining up the edges of the face holes.
 
Claudine already felt smothered.

The mouth of the mask curled around her lips, secured so that her tongue could not push the edges out of her mouth.
 
He tested the patch he had made for the opening.
 
It was made from the same latex substance and adhered to the other surface.
 
Claudine had an insane thought of when she was a little girl, sticking shiny plastic outfits on a glossy cardboard doll.
 
Tombstone removed the mouth patch and stuck it to the latex on her forehead.

There was a nose covering and ear coverings, as well.
 
The ear patches had a thin ridge of foam and tiny speakers protruded and filled her canals.
 
The last patches went over her eyes, and she blinked, feeling the edge of the mask brush the rim of her lids before he sealed out the light.
 
A moment later, the speakers began a slow, deep litany… and Claudine screamed when she heard Donald Strickland’s voice.

“You are a white trash slut, Claudine.
 
With the help of my associates, your death certificate has been recorded along with an updated will.
 
You amassed a handy sum from those men you grifted… enough to finance most of your incarceration, thank you.
 
You stupid little whore.
 
You had no idea what pros you were dealing with.

“Didn’t you think I’d seen your kind before?
 
Flaunting your tits and cunt at my son, making promises you never intended to keep.
 
Donnie was weak, Claudine, especially when it came to the need for a woman’s love.
 
Me?
 
I’ve never been swayed by that crap.
 
Sluts have two purposes: producing heirs and fucking.
 
You screwed me out of my heir, Claudine.
 
You won’t escape the fucking.”

“No doubt Tombstone will prepare you as I have ordered.
 
He has successfully aided several of my friends with irritating problems, such as you.
 
After he’s finished creating and training you, he will deliver you back to the estate for six months.
 
I’m afraid your days of spa baths and luxury are over.
 
I have other plans for you before I return you to Tombstone for good.”

The speakers hummed static for a while, and then Strickland’s voice repeated his speech.
 
Over and over in darkness, the smell of fresh latex in her nose, the sticky feel of rubber over her eyelids… and fingers stroking her pussy, up and down, in and out; stopping just short of letting her climax.
 
Her panting breaths gasping in frustration through the mouth opening, her pussy leaking onto the chair in a constant drool… up and down, in and out.

The hands stopped, leaving her pussy sensitive and her walls gripping for release.
 
She felt the collar locked around her neck, and then the tight leather belts securing her to the chair began to loosen.
 
A hand gripped her arm, pulling her to stand just as Donald began his accusation again.
 
She sobbed and wailed, hearing none of her cries, imagining she could.

Blindly guided to a table, she was bent over backwards with her feet on the floor.
 
A boot batted her ankles apart and she rubbed the back of her head on the metal surface, trying to work off the mask.
 
Without warning, a cock thrust into her, and her body shuddered and strained.
 
A finger spread her pussy and began stroking her clit.
 
She was already so sensitive and close to erupting that her hips began a humiliating thrust, embedding his huge rod deeper… in and out, in and out…
Oh, god.
 
Even the sound of Strickland’s voice could not squelch her burning, and Claudine’s muscles gripped tightly around the cock of the frighteningly handsome man who had done this to her.

Perhaps, that was the worst torture of all.
 
In the dark quiet of the coffin, Claudine’s mind wandered to the man.
 
He was tall and lean, with sweeping wavy locks of blue-black hair.
 
His eyes were such a light blue that they appeared to be made of tinted glass, piercing with passionate intensity.
 
His features were strong and determined, and his voice was a deep, low, menacing sound.
 
She found herself dampening, flexing her core in the darkness, imagining him fucking her like he was doing now.

In and out, in and out… with a well practiced hand strumming her clit.
 
She moaned and gasped to the drone of Strickland’s insults, finally wrapping her thighs around blue jeans and forcing the jerking, spewing cock fully inside her while she climaxed.
 
Her muscles spasmed against his cock, milking and encouraging his eruption.