Venom's Fourth Assignment
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"Tomorrow will be mounting day, so try to get some sleep," the sinister man had told her before closing the door of the windowless room. Now June lay in total darkness, awaiting her second night in captivity. During the first she had screamed and kicked against the bars of her strange birdcage for hours. It was no real birdcage, only a womancage with round basis and tapered top, and it had withstood her pathetic attacks with ease.
~°~
"Mounting day..." echoed in her head.
That he had not kidnapped her just for ransom had already become clear for her. It had been about twenty hours since her nocturnal journey through the clubs had ended in this very cage. This first night her screams for help had remained unanswered. She had already been out of her mind with fear when the man had opened the door in the morning.
~°~
June tried to find a halfway comfortable position to sleep, knowing from her last night that this was impossible. The cage was too small and her restrains too efficient. Efficiency - that was the right term. Thumbcuffs trapped her hands behind her. A thin leather tie led from a nose hook across her forehead to the nape of her neck. There it was knotted to the strap that ran through her mouth. That was it; bound, gagged and controlled by equipment with an overall weight of a chocolate bar.
In an odd way, this concept matched her captor. After her first night in cage and bondage, he had shown up. Dressed in a tailor-made suit, the man had stepped into the room and had addressed her shortly and precisely.
"Good Morning, June. My name is Mr O'Connell. Today we will do your measurement," his exact and only words had been.
Measurement day had kept what its name had promised: she had been measured. All day long her silent captor had inspect her body while she had been standing on some kind of stony pedestal in the middle of his huge Victorian winter garden. To be examined like a piece of meat had already been degrading, but June had felt humiliated beyond believe when he had slid cylindrical probes of increasing diameters into her mouth and anus. And when she had been coerced to receive an enema at the end of the day, she had wished that the ground would swallow her up.
~°~
June curled up in a foetal position. Maybe Mr O'Connell was just a strange pervert, some sort of "body index" fetishist, who would let her go after typing her measures into an Excel spreadsheet - or he was about to make a coat of her skin!
This idea already made her shiver, but then her empty stomach cramped:
"He told me his name!"
Within seconds her naked, bound body started to tremble as nauseatic fear exploded in her innards.
"I'll never get out of here alive...!"
So her second night encaged was full of crying, too.
~°~
The sound of the door wakened June from grinding nightmares. It had to be almost noon; sunrays were flooding the winter garden outside her prison, and her captor was only a silhouette in the back light.
"Today is your big day, June. I hope that you appreciate what I am going to do for you..."
Mr O'Connell opened the cage, hooked a finger behind the strap of the nose bondage and marched her out. June followed him weakly. As much as she feared the upcoming events, as much she craved the warm sunlight.
Of course June had fought him the first morning, when he had led her into his winter garden like this. But the metal inside her nostrils had quickly changed her mind. Efficiency.
The strap in her mouth, although painfully cutting into the corners, didn't prevented her from speaking. But soon after cursing and pleading at him yesterday she had realised her tongue getting chafed raw by the tightened leather.
Silent and compliant June followed the man into the sophisticated glass construction. Though she soon had received the impression that he used the winter garden as some kind of studio, she hadn't seen any works around - at least till now. On the prominent pedestal two marble sculptures were waiting. In view of their motive, material and making they seemed to belong together: fantastic creatures of the Greek mythology, maybe fauns or satyrs. Although the sculptures themselves were perfect up to their polished surfaces, the whole arrangement looked strangely unfinished. The two half-humans just stood too far away from each other, as if something was missing between them.
Following the relentless pull on her nose, June quickly realised who the missing link was. Mr O'Connell made her step onto the pedestal, where she noticed the creatures' erect penises for the first time. The marble phalli were pointing at her nude body, and she was disgust by the obscene presentation.
"Please bend over, June."
He encouraged her by slowly lowering his guiding hand, and June obeyed. She feared pain, not only the physical feeling, but also the mental aspect. She feared the fear of pain, the knowledge of it. All her life she had managed to avoid unpleasantness’ of any kind. Her only wish and ambition had been to enjoy her existence; no regrets, no thinking of tomorrow. And till one and a half day ago, she had been eager to follow her hedonic ideal with long nights of cocaine, XTC and unprotected intercourse.
"Now step back, please."
The man's voice showed elevated concentration, and he laid his free hand into the small of her back to control her moves. June shivered from his touch and waddled backwards on unsure feet. A yelp escaped her restrained mouth as she felt the cool stone of the first sculpture making contact to her buttocks. And a longer screech followed as soon as she realised what part of the marble creature was nudging at her.
"Relax."
"No! Don't!"
She tried to wriggle away, but her captor grabbed her hips with both hands and put his weight against her shoulder. To June's unbridled horror, her body moved backwards and allowed the artificial phallus to slide between her buttocks. For a dreadful moment it pressed against her clenched anus, then broke the blocking ring of muscles. There was an almost snapping sensation in her sphincter, and June howled, both with pain and terror. The hurt was fierce, but short, and cool wetness invaded her rectum. The smooth, lubricated surface rendered any resistance useless while unceasing force coerced her to take more and more of the slippery pole. The insertion was far more gentle now, but the deepness of the penetration made her gasp. When her sickening impalement finally stopped, she could sense the marble bottoming out in her rectum, nearly reaching the entrance to her colon. June felt violated down to her innermost core.
"There is no need to cry, June. You are about to become part of something unique."
For obvious reasons, his comment didn't keep her from weeping. She heard her tormentor stepping back and tried to rise in an upright position, but the phallic form in her fundament was unyielding. Since she feared new pain in her anal tract, June didn't dare back off from it.
With tear-fogged eyes she searched for Mr O'Connell and found him behind the other satyr. He was slowly approaching her, and so did the sculpture. June didn't even wonder about the mechanism allowing the man to move his artwork with such an ease. Her mind was completely bothered with the second stone penis, coming for her face. She tried to turn her head away, but the silent man was close enough to take hold on her nose hook again. She fought the harsh metal, but eventually surrendered to the increasing pain. As a last defence the young woman clenched her teeth. She uttered a guttural noise of despair when the lifeless glans touched her trembling lips. Mr O'Connell just sighed.
"I have hoped that we would be past these puerilities..."
He let go of the hook, only to press his thumbs into June's cheeks, near the joints of her jaw. She still resisted; he pressed harder, tormenting her flesh and muscles until she finally accepted the cold marble in her mouth, cursing herself for her weakness.
With the phallus lodged between her teeth, June was freed of the not longer necessary nose hook and leather straps. But she couldn't feel relieved about this; the phallus started to fill her entire oral cavity. Eventually it touched the back of her mouth, and the gag reflex set in. It took her great efforts to suppress her retching, and she felt panic rising in her mind. The woman forced herself to calm down and explored her ability of movement. Too soon she was finished with this task; she could move neither back nor forth. June was truly mounted.
"As time goes by, you gag reflex will disappear almost completely."
June's reddened eyes became huge: 'As time goes by'? How long does he plan to keep her trapped between these abominations?!
"L'meh ough!" she managed to utter around the mouth-violating artefact.
"Out? What do you mean with 'Out'?"
Mr O'Connell shackled her feet to the sodomising satyr's legs.
"Just like you are now, you are fulfilling the function that has been intended for you. Be proud! Your existence is given a higher value, a new sense."
Damn, it was her life, and it was her very own decision how to spend it! She had to stop this sicko from turning her into a decoration.
June was waving about with her arms as soon as he opened her thumbcuffs. Of course she failed poorly at changing anything of her situation. He fettered her right hand to the sculpture she was performing fellatio to. Her palm was pressed against the satyr's chest and cuffed, not at the wrist, but around each single finger. With the same method her other hand was soon caressing the thigh of the raping artwork behind her.
Her captor stepped some metres back and obviously relished the sight of his newest creation.
"Only some minor things to do; I hope that you have patience left."
~°~
Mr O'Connell has gone. Maybe he fetched equipment for his next work step. Work step - the sole term made her cry anew. Wasn't she yet finished? Did she need even more than two marble monstrosities in her holes to achieve a certain value?!
June caught herself giggling hysterically around her oral intruder. This couldn't be real.
"But that stone cock is too far up my arse to be just a nightmare."
Again an obstructed giggle, this time more cynical, could be heard by the two satyrs.
"He has to let me out. There's no way around it; sooner or later he just has to let me out - at the latest when I have to use the bathroom!"
The trapped woman hissed in ostensible relief.
~°~
When Mr O'Connell came back, June's mood had changed once more. She was struggling and cursing, both in a most limited way. She wanted out now! No waiting, no more of his sick games! Who did he thing he was?!
"Already in the phase of revolt, I see..."
He rubbed a cooling lotion into the skin below her navel while June was calling him names. Unimpressed by her distorted statements, he cleaned his hands with a towel and switched on an electrical device of some kind. This implement was T-shaped, with a handle on its shaft and a strange relief along the top of its bar. From time to time he seemed to check it, holding the far end into the sculptures' shadows. The first two times June could not make out anything, but then she saw a weak glowing. It was a branding iron!
With refound vigour she trashed around, but only managed to ram herself further onto the insertions. As the mouthpiece hit the back of her oral cavity, her gag reflex set in to full extent. In panic, she struggled only more while retching out clear liquid around the horrible shaft. A sharp burning in her rectum was all she got.
Mr O'Connell wound his arm around her waist, stabilising her effectively. Something cold, very cold, touched June's belly. The strange sensation was followed by a keen pain and the feeling of pressure. There was no nerve signal her brain would link to heat.
June was surprised to feel her captor releasing her waist after just some seconds, and only then she could sense a vague smell of burnt tissue.
"Maybe you are interested in this..."
He held the cooled down instrument near her face, so June could read the mirrored characters on the T-bar:
Cassotis at the Hands of Satyric Warriors
June was too puzzled to cry or rage. The taciturn man didn't give any explanation, just stowed his branding tool away and applied the mildening lotion again.
~°~
How many hours had passed? June's back hurt terribly, and cramps burnt in the nape of her neck. She feared to open her eyes, feared to see the marble only centimetres in front of her face again. The first signs of claustrophobia had already taken hold on her. What ever she had done to deserve this, she regretted it. If she only had the chance to convince Mr O'Connell. He was rinsing her with warm water after he had soaped and scrubbed her thoroughly, and wasn't paying attention to her gagged noises.
"Please! Please, let me out, please! I'll do anything you want, just let me out!"
Her jaws ached, and her palate had become sore from all the begging. Why didn't he allow her to prove her words? She could do wonderful things with her mouth...
Mr O'Connell rubbed her down with a large towel and blow-dried her hair.
"We are almost finished, my dear."
His skilled hands started to braid her blond mane.
~°~
The hairdressing had been followed by a full body painting. Now her skin was completely covered by a mottled, breathable paint, even her auricles and the soles of her feet. With every new layer the realisation had sunk deeper into June that there would be no release, no Out for her. All her approved tactics wouldn't work anymore; no tit-shaking, no arse-wiggling, no daddy-calling.
The paint hardened and tightened, turning her slowly into stone, into art.
Mr O'Connell was still holding the fine brush he had used for the final details.
"Once the coat has finished drying, you will be ready for transport. Your new owner is already dying to see his little nymph..."
Cassotis closed her eyes in surrender, and a single tear roll off the imperishable paint on her cheek.
End
Venom, v1.1
